#gpa i’ve been trying to build

[djungleskogs]

has anyone else failed a uni class because i swear no one i know has (outside of deliberately not completing assessments) and i am soo scared that i am going to fail one of my units this semester and i am kinda spiraling

[foreingersgod]

You’re Everything . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: caitlin clark is the best basketball player in the media right now and you can’t help but feel like you’re no good for her.

y’all i don’t even write (so sorry if this is actual ass), but the cc content on here is almost non existent lol. so i hope you all enjoy :)

my masterlist: here

college is extremely hard, and unfortunately for you, it has pushed you to your breaking point.

unlike your girlfriend, caitlin, you’ve never been the athletic type. typically confined to your textbooks and essays rather than on the court or out in the field. Your studies were incredibly important to you and you were GOOD at school, but by no means were you as talented as the caitlin clark.

you’re so proud of caitlin, truly. she’s come some far in her athletic career. she deserves all the praise and all of the awards and all of the support. but regardless all the praise and admiration you showered her with, you couldn’t help but feel like you weren’t enough.

books littered the covers of your bed, chemistry worksheets and math textbooks seemed to stack up to the ceiling. your fingers dug into your scalp, lightly pulling at your hair. you had midterms coming up and you were starting to panic. last semester, midterms and finals flew by like a breeze and you were able to hold a very high gpa, but unfortunately this semester you’re crashing and burning. you were falling behind on assignments, forgetting due dates, and failing exams no matter how hard you studied. caitlin constantly reassured you that you were doing amazing regardless of how different your grades were last semester, but it’s really easy to say that when you’re passing every class and making history in basketball at the same time.

tears threatened to spill from your eyes and it felt like you were going to faint from all this stress. as you were sloppily scribbling down equations and flipping through flash cards, you failed to hear constant knocking and the lock of your front door turning. heavy footsteps echoed up to your room and you knew all too well who they belonged to. trying to get everything in order before your girlfriend reached your room, you quickly wiped your tears away and fixed your hair.

“YN i’ve been texting you like crazy, did you not-” she began. “hey hey hey what’s the matter, baby”

caitlin immediately seemed panicked at your distressed state, rushing over to you and sitting next to you on the bed. her arms instinctively wrapped around you as you nuzzled your head into her neck to hide your tears.

“it’s nothing, i swear, im just stressed for my chem exam” you lied. “you caught me at a bad time i guess” you attempted laugh it off, pulling a fake smile into the side of neck.

she pulled away from you, hands moving from you shoulders to your face, forcing you to look at her. she seemed to be looking at you for hours, studying the pain on your face and the dullness of your eyes.

“baby this is obviously not ‘nothing’…i’ve never seen you like this. over anything”

it didn’t take long for you to start tearing up again. “caitlin, i…i really don’t know…”

you can’t even get the words out. it felt like your sentences were building up in your throat and suffocating you. a small whimper managed to work its way out of you before you broke down in tears. again, caitlin was all over you, confused and hurt because she doesn’t know how to help you.

“YN please, please talk to me i need to know what’s going on, you’re scaring me” she said, pushing loose stands of hair out of your face and wiping your tears with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

“i just-” you began, hiccuping from your sobs “i just feel like a failure!”

and that started it all. before caitlin could even protest such as absurd statement, all of your feelings and insecurities came spewing out.

“caitlin i’m extremely proud of you, please know that. i’ve never been so astonished by someone’s talent than yours” you sounded hysteric, you were sure. “but i cant help but feel like i’m a failure compared to all the amazing things you’ve done. you’ve broken records and changed people’s lives…you’ve won the awards and the adoring fans…and again, i can’t even begin with how proud of you i am…but looking back at all the things i’ve done…i’m nothing. for fucks sake i can’t even pass a god damn chemistry exam or a math quiz without losing my fucking mind. i don’t leave the house cause i’m too busy studying and i don’t have time to hang out with our friends or hang out with your team. i can barely pass my classes this semester and i just feel like such a burnout.”

it felt like it all came out in seconds. “you deserve so much better than someone like me. i’m nothing”

the silence that filled the room was heavy and haunting. you worked up enough courage to finally look at caitlin, scared that she’d realized you were right and confirm your worst fears. but to your surprise, she was crying too.

“you’re everything” her voice cracked, barely managing to get the words out. “baby you’re everything.”

“what?”

“is this how you’ve really felt? like you’re nothing?” you avoided her gaze “YN i couldn’t even begin to tell you how amazed i am by you. forget me, look at you!”

“cait.”

“no, i’m serious. you work your ass off every single day. you study you do your homework you go to work, and you still find the time to shower me with so much love and attention. you pour your soul into everything that you do and of course it’s hard, but please do not sit here and tell me i deserve more than you because i need you more than i need air, YN”

it felt like you had no more tears to shed, overwhelmed with feelings. so instead you took your girlfriends face into your hands, forcing your lips upon hers. you could feel her hands meander to the back of your head, toying with the hairs at the nape of your neck as she pulled you into a much deeper kiss.

eventually pulling away for air, you rest your forehead against hers while she whispers gentle “i love you”s . you finally feel relieved for the first time in a while.

[feyhunter78]

I just found your page and I totally didn’t read all of your Miguel O’Hara fics. One I love how you write kissing you caught that spark off a kiss with someone you love in a way most books don’t get right.

I can’t sit here and sing your praise all day but I do have a question. Fully up to you and if it’s just a Drabble that ok but will you ever being writing something else for Side walk kisses? It’s so cute and I can see more moments with Miguel and Y/N just being silly cute mindless college students so helplessly in love. Fluff smut angst whatever you decide to Drabble in I will be fully ok with

(This is the first time I’ve done an ask so sorry I I seem a little over excited)

AHHH I love when I'm people's first asks, it always makes me feel so special!!! I thought I'd try my hand at a bit of angst for you anon!

Insecurities

You know you shouldn’t be jealous. Shouldn’t feel bad about yourself, shouldn’t be debating making up some excuse and dashing off to the humanities building to rid yourself of this pit in your stomach like a snake sheds its skin.

But that would require leaving Miguel alone with Xina, and you think you’d rather die than do that. So, you’re stuck in the courtyard right outside the library, holding onto Miguel’s bicep possessively as you struggle to keep up with the flow of conversation.

Now you wouldn’t say you’re an insecure person, sure you have your insecurities like everyone else, but they don’t plague your mind, or weigh heavily on you as you go about your day-to-day business. Right now, though? As you take in Xina, her long thick dark hair, her stunning almond eyes that sparkle with intelligence, the flawlessness of her skin, the way she so easily keeps up with Miguel as they discuss the intersection between genetics and robotics, you’re feeling pretty insecure.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking, when making your calculations you have to factor in the deficiencies in the code, just as you have to factor in potential genetic flaws.” Xina says, a smile tugging at the edge of her lips, excitement clear on her face.

“Of course, with genetics it’s harder to eradicate flaws than in code, but I could see it following a similar pattern.” Miguel responds, nodding at her words.

You’re so lost. If they wanted to discuss the intricacies of the English language or the way philosophers can so heavily affect the development of a nation’s culture you would be there, front row and ready, but science? Science is not your forte.

Xina laughs and smacks Miguel’s arm, pulling you out of your thoughts, Miguel is laughing too so you do the same which draws her attention to you.

“Oh, y/n, I’m so sorry, we’ve been so rude, what do you think?” She asks, and you can’t tell if she’s genuinely curious, or just hates you.

You stumble for a moment, then say, “I agree with Miguel.”

She laughs again. “You think Charles Darwin would be a good computer programmer?”

Miguel joins in, and for the first time ever his laughter sounds sour to your ears.

“Oh, um, no, I just—”

Xina smiles sympathetically at you, but it feels a bit patronizing. “It’s okay, not everyone can keep up with us.”

Okay, maybe running and hiding was a good idea.

“Y/N is actually top of her sorority for GPA, she’s read more books than anyone else I know, and she helps me write all my lab reports.” Miguel jumps in.

“That’s so cute.” Xina coos, looking at you as if you were a kindergartener presenting her with a crayon scribbled drawing.

You give her a tight smile, then squeeze Miguel’s bicep. “Hey, I’m gonna head to class, but I’ll see you later?”

He nods, and lets you go, reabsorbed in his conversation with Xina.

You toy with the bracelet Miguel got you as you sit at your desk, waiting for class to start. It’s a pretty thing, a birthday present, simple and elegant, highlighting your birthstone, the words, mi dulce, engraved on the inside in a small, flowy script. It jingles pleasantly as you mess with it, and glints under the florescent lights.

“The professor isn’t here yet, right?” Kelsey slides into her desk next to you and starts unpacking her bag.

“No, he’s running a little late.” You say, absentmindedly shading one corner of the blank page in your notebook with your pencil.

“Okay, good because I have something kinda fucked up to show you.” She says, pulling out her phone and scrolling until she finds what she’s looking for.

You lean towards her, the thought of gossip perking you up a bit.

“So, you know that Ava girl, the bitch who used to date your man?”

“I wish I didn’t, but yes.” You grumble, feeling that familiar gloom settle back over you.

“Okay well she’s been trying to get with this Kappa Sig, and you know how the brothers are like obsessed with me because my brother is their president and an absolute legend as they always remind me.”

“Yeah, it’s the reason we got into their parties freshman year.”

Kelsey’s brother was a decent guy, all things considered. Older than you two by a year or so, with the charisma of a cult leader but lacking the desire to start a cult. Throughly satisfied with his fraternity and the Fortune 500 company he’ll go on to work at once he graduates. He was nice enough, extending his protection to you and anyone else close to his sister while in the Kappa Sig house.

“So, one of them texted me about her trying to sleep her way through the frat, but then, my brother sent me this video. I gotta warn you, it’s not school appropriate.” She says as she slowly turns the screen towards you.

At first, you recoil. It’s Ava, half naked, and some guy, on a bed that looks vaguely familiar. The guy’s face is out of the frame, but he’s shirtless, his pants pushed down exposing his dick to the camera, Ava’s hand wrapped around it pumping furiously. “Um, what the fuck is this?”

“Just wait.” Kelsey says quietly, glancing around the room to make sure no one else is watching. They’re not, they’re too busy with their own phones or side conversations.

You half watch the video, feeling weird about watching, your idea of a good time isn’t watching your boyfriend’s psycho ex jack some guy off.

The guy finishes, his hips bucking and Ava saying something you can’t hear since Kelsey’s sound is off.

The camera shakes as Ava picks it up and shows off the face of the man. Dark hair, glazed brown eyes with hints of crimson, perfectly formed lips parted. You know that face, but you don’t want to accept it.

“Is that Miguel?” You’re horrified, sick to your stomach, head spinning, every unpleasant feeling and sensation you could feel erupting all at once.

You can see Ava go to grab his face, guide him lower, moving to take off her underwear, and you turn your head, unable to watch any longer.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know when it was filmed, but Darren said he had one of the brothers send it to him yesterday then made all of them delete the video from their phones. He knows Miguel’s your boyfriend, said he was just looking out for you.” Kelsey puts away her phone and looks at you, eyes searching your face, before giving you a one-armed hug. “I’m so sorry y/n, I can ask him to see if he can find out when it was filmed?”

You want to cry, you really, really want to cry. “It looks recent, that’s Miguel’s bed, I’ve been there, I’ve slept on that bed, I—I can’t think about this right now. Thank you for telling me, and tell your brother I said thanks too.”

Kelsey nods and squeezes you tighter before letting go and giving you a sad smile.

The professor finally shows up, and you throw yourself into your notetaking, graphite digging into the pristine white paper as you try to drown out the images in your head with the sound of your professor droning on.

Part 2 here!!!

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows, @36namey, @scoobysnakz, @ihateuguys, @idkbros-world @smartyren, @deputy-videogamer, @blackrose8425, @amberpanda99, @marshhbs, @queerponcho

[sabertoothwalrus]

Hi!! I hope it's okay to ask, which university are you/were you attending? I want to study animation in university but i have no idea which one to choose, so can you please tell me about yours?👉👈

I go to CSUF! It’s definitely one of the cheapest places to get a degree in animation in California, if not the US.

Only a handful of the California State schools offer animation, and most of the ones that do are 3D only, and I wanted to learn 2D.

SJSU has a good 2D anim program, and they’re the only state school in the bay area that does, BUT last I checked you need something like a 3.9 GPA to get in?????? like HELLO these are animation students. who are you fooling

the other schools I considered were CSULB and CSUN.

CSULB has a strong animation program! They have the guy that literally created the worldwide 24 Hour Animation Challenge. However, they required ONE extra art history class that none of the other CSUs needed, and I didn’t have it, and I wasn’t about to prolong transferring a whole other semester just to take it. (It was prehistoric art history, I think, which I admit sounds cool as fuck)

The reason I chose CSUF, beyond liking their curriculum better than CSUN, was because I heard about the Pencil Mileage Club. It’s the largest student-run animation club in Southern California. I’d argue that networking is almost more important than your actual skill. I’ll admit, the faculty is probably not doing as much for the students as other schools, but PMC more than makes up for it. I’ve made all my friends (and girlfriend teehee) through this club. I was president of my Art Club at my community college, so it was important to me to be part of PMC’s council. I’m now an event coordinator and so I help organize and run events and studio tours and guest speakers! :)) Clubs and extracurriculars look fantastic on resumes, so wherever you go, look into what’s available.

Things I should note: when you start at CSUF, whether as a freshman or through transferring, you will not be an animation major yet. You have to do the portfolio review first, and you can’t have any of the prerequisite classes in-progress when you apply. The portfolio requirement is only a few years old, too, and therefore it’s not nearly as competitive as, say… calarts or sheridan. I often say, students make the program better, not the other way around. the higher the level of students that apply, the higher the overall education quality will need to be to match that. Though this does mean that the higher quality a program is, the more people will be excluded, unfortunately.

CSUF’s aniamtion program itself is…. a little silly. You take storyboarding and character design after doing your short film ? for some reason? The new department head started at the school the same semester I did, and she’s definitely trying to make it better. She held a screening of the production classes’ finished films, and she told me she plans to have the curriculum restructured by 2025 (after I graduate, lol).

I’ll also mention that the art buildings are in the process of getting demolished and rebuilt. The first wave of new buildings won’t be done until the end of this year, and once that’s finished, they’ll tear down the remaining two buildings and start remodeling those. For now, we do a lot of our classes in the modular buildings jdhshfjs 🫡

We also have a mated pair of gay ducks that come every spring. Their names are Pebble and Rock. They are beloved by the art students.

And really, you don’t NEED a degree in animation to get into the industry. There are SO many online resources out there, a lot that are free, that can give you just as good of an education (in fact, several of my professors’ lectures have just been playing youtube videos and pulling up articles). BUT your classmates WILL be your future coworkers. If you’re not establishing relationships with people in some way on your own, you definitely need to make that bigger priority. After all, you won’t be working by yourself when you’re in the industry.

edit: oh I forgot to say that all the california state schools are striking the first week of the semester. so uh. there’s that

[fleetstreetpies]

Hi friends.

This past year has been terrifying, heartbreaking, uplifting, soul crushing, and every experience in between. I’ve lost a lot of my family, both stateside and abroad. I’ve raised my GPA in college. I’ve been at the same shitty retail job. Dear god. It’s been a long year.

It’s the anniversary of 9/11 again, and I think this year is probably going to be the worst for anti-Arab and Islamophobic hate crimes since 2001. They’ve been progressively on the rise since Trump’s presidency began back in 2016, and have accelerated since the start of the genocide against Palestinians (yknow, the one where I lost a lot of my family). Anti-Arab racist propaganda most news outlets and social networks feed the American public has been on the rise and spreading like wildfire. And this year, the twenty-third anniversary of one of the largest scale terrorist attacks in the United States, I feel is going to be the worst.

The United States of America did experience a great loss of life during the attacks on the Twin Towers and the Pentagon, and during the passenger reclamation of the plane that crashed in Pennsylvania. Those 2996 people had families, friends, pets, and colleagues who loved them and valued them so deeply. And the people who have died from smoke inhalation and the diseases related to smoke inhalation over the past 23 years have just as many loved ones. These are people and families and communities and friends, not numbers.

One of my mom’s best friends was working in the Pentagon at the time of the attack. She was on the other side of the building in a meeting when the plane crashed. She survived. 184 of her colleagues and friends did not make it home that night. 184 never made it back from work. 184 people would never see their spouses and kids, would never go to a bar to watch a big sports game with friends, would never see their friends getting married or having kids, would never call their moms or dads again.

184 people died. They died. And that was only one of the attacks.

Their lives do not go unremembered.

Neither do the thousands and even millions of lives lost in the Middle East.

In the aftermath of the attacks on September 11, 2001, approximately 1,445,590 innocent Muslims in countries across the seas were killed in invasions by the United States. The goal was to eradicate terrorism, but the end result was another terrorist regime replacing the last. America itself often became the terrorist regime, even if only temporarily. Innocent people have died, and their blood is on America’s hands.

This doesn’t even begin to cover the murders and violence against Arabs and Muslims in the States.

People in other religious and philosophical communities, including but not limited to Sikhs, have been and still are being attacked.

My fear is that this year is going to be worse. Hate crimes are already rampant. People who are just trying to go to work or to school are being harassed, threatened, assaulted, or even killed. It’s not right to just sit back and not acknowledge that. People can twiddle their thumbs and turn the other way all they want, but in the end these are people with families who are in danger.

And I get it; this is small potatoes compared to what’s happening overseas. I know that intimately well. But PLEASE. I beg of you. Your Arab, Muslim, Sikh, etc. neighbors, friends, coworkers, family, and in-laws are all people too. They have families. They are alive. This September, keep them safe. Don’t speak over them. Amplify their voices.

Keep talking about Palestine, Afghanistan, Lebanon, Syria, Iraq, Iran, and Yemen. Keep talking about what’s happening elsewhere. Keep talking about persecution of Muslims and Arab people. Keep talking about how misconceptions about other religions and cultures are spread in the US/global north. Keep talking about it. Keep calling genocide and apartheid states out for what they are. Keep speaking up and showing up. Use your vote. Use your platform to reduce harm that comes to others. Make it so that people CANNOT look away. All eyes on these places, and on genocide the world over.

No more lives lost. Never again, for anyone.

— an exhausted Arab Jew

[cr0ftisprocrastinating]

Crofty! My favorite and beloved academia Dramione writer! Will you be a student again this year? What is the back to school season like for you?

I also want to ask, how do you set intentions for the beginning of the semester/school year and make sure that you stay committed to them? How do you balance separate writing projects with your coursework?

In addition, would you be willing to share advice for a reader halfway through her undergraduate degree? For context, I’ve had some rough setbacks in my first two years, but I’m really eager to prove myself. I want to build back my GPA and earn my way into a humanities PhD program.

Thanks so much! I hope your academic years are wonderful (in the true old meaning of the word!) and give you great joy, wisdom and inspiration.

#ADHDinacademia #PhD #dramione #darkacademia #hogwarts #oxford #oxbridge #ivyleague #columbia #manuscript #marauder #hermionegranger #undergradwoes #lumos

Sweet Piedra! Happy September, aka the best month of the whole year! (it may or may not include my birthday).

I will be a student this year again! I'm just about to start my second year as a phd student (programs in the UK are usually 3-4 years, so I'm nearly halfway through already?!).

The biggest advice I can give about studying is firstly: wanting to do well is the first step to doing well in anything, so you are already a good chunk of the way there!

2. pick things that you are naturally interested in (for option papers). Life is a hell of a lot easier when you're not making it harder for yourself, even if you think you *should* be studying something bc it sounds impressive (personally, I am not into Russian Literature at all, so I just don't force myself to slog through Crime and Punishment, etc. This simple realisation improved my life by at least 100%)

3. Do as much reading as you can. When I did my undergrad I was so surprised at how little reading people did lol, and doing the reading makes a big difference. The Professors have made the reading lists for a reason and they want to help you.

4. Utilise office hours! It took me ages to realise that I can just...go to the office hours and talk to the people who were teaching me. Go in person if you can. Talk them through your essay plans and they will course correct before they're marked. Let them know that you're interested in pursuing it further, and find out what they think you need to do to fill in any gaps you may have. Don't be discouraged if they're short with you, bc academics are a weird bunch.

5. Try not to be so focused on an end result that you forget to enjoy what you're doing right now. Romanticise the hell out of your life whenever you can. It's short!

In terms of my 'process' (sorry this is SO long):

This term is going to be pretty hectic! In addition to my PhD I work Tuesdays and Wednesdays at a corporate job to help pay the bills. I have funding, but funding in the arts is just...not enough.

I will also be teaching this semester for the first time ever (yay!) so I have reading lists and essay questions to put together before Oct. That's every other week though, so it's not too much work.

My supervisors and I try to get a 'chunk' of my thesis written a term (8-10k roughly). I have about 8k due at the end of this month as I have written 2 chunks over the summer, and will have another due at the end of term in Dec.

Also, I've been asked to give a talk about my research at the end of the semester which I am SO excited about, but it means I'll be adapting one of my thesis chapters for that, too! :)

Broadly speaking I do fanfic writing Tuesday and Wednesday evenings, as after grown-up-job-things my brain is too toasted for academic work. When I'm getting to the end of a story however I get real itchy fingers and have to get all the words out as quickly as possible, so I let a lot of other things slide, like cleaning or cooking or washing my hair or also doing my work. Gross, I know, but I've never been particularly functional when I have an idea in my head.

However, I do believe that if you are busy then you are more productive. I have 2 modes: INSANE or blob. I do not recommend this approach, but that is just the way that I'm wired. Today, for instance, I spent the entire day in bed. Tomorrow I really must go back to the library.

Oxford terms are only 8 weeks long, and honestly no matter how prepared I am at the beginning, by halfway through I'm clinging on by a thread. I try not to be too hard on myself when that happens, and focus on getting my work done and not keeping my house clean or whatever else I've decided to beat myself up about.

My username is about procrastinating for a reason. I just kind of productively procrastinate and then at some point everything just gets done?

Some personal mantras:

'everything in moderation, including moderation'

'say yes and figure it out later'

'the work comes first' (normally I say this to try and galvanize myself into staying in the library when I want to go to the pub)

'fuck it' (said when the pub wins out)

'it'll get done, because it has to' (said when I have a week to write 4,000 words because i've procrastinated too close to the sun, again)

[beingparker]

2024- The Emancipation of Parker

2024 was the best year of my life. I truly love the man I am and the one I continue to grow into. It feels surreal to sit here and reflect on the past five years. So much has shifted in my life, inside and out, that sometimes I can hardly recognize the person I was when I started this journey. I guess that’s a good thing, though. Change is inevitable, and growth isn’t always pretty, but it’s always necessary... And if I’ve learned anything over the past few years, it’s that life has a way of challenging you until you become something more than you thought you could be.

At the end of 2018, I was blindsided. After well over two years, my relationship with P—someone I had genuinely believed was "the one"—came to an abrupt and painful end. "Abrupt" is an understatement. P comes from a wealthy family in India, and it turns out he had been hiding a massive part of his life from me: a plan for an arranged marriage that had been secretly in the works by his parents for years. He didn't want to do it, but it turns out his family ties and expectations ran much deeper than our relationship. Blood is thicker than water, as they say.

We spent over two years of our lives together. To say those two years were perfect would be an utter lie. Our time together was tumultuous, a rollercoaster. He was habitually unfaithful and I was also battling some of my own demons personally. Yet, together we remained, trust issues and all (many of which I'm still learning to untangle). Through it all we built a foundation of a life together. We practically lived together. He had his apartment in South End, I had mine in Uptown, but regardless of whose place we stayed at, we were always together. We saw parts of the world together. We looked at homes together. We had hard conversations about the future (he was 33 and well into his banking career, while I was just turning 26 and just beginning to find my path). And in the blink of an eye, that future we were building together vanished. After the night it ended, suddenly we never saw each other again.

To say I was devastated is an understatement. The truth was, I was furious, heartbroken, and completely disoriented. I was left in the rubble of it, and I had no idea how to rebuild. To even put one foot in front of the other in the face of that pain was a monumental task. It was an overnight change that had me packing my bags and essentially being abandoned by the one I loved the most so he could willingly go be with someone else and live a lie.

But in that heartbreak, I made a choice. I wasn’t going to wallow in despair; I wasn’t going to let this define me. I was going to use it as fuel to propel me forward, even though I had no idea where "forward" was or what that even meant. So, I threw myself into my studies, focused on my goals with a single-minded intensity, and shut out the noise of my emotions. Truly, I became reclusive.

Madrid became my escape, my dream. I knew of a 6 month work/study program that I could pursue and potentially extend and make into a more permanent move. That's what I wanted. I'd lived in Seville for 6 months in 2016 and felt like Spain was my second home, so at this point I hyper-focused on my eligibility for the Madrid program. I worked hard for that dream, juggling academics to maintain a perfect GPA, while also juggling personal demons and sacrificing any and every semblance of a social life... trying to ignore the lingering ache of betrayal and rejection.

I thought if I worked hard enough, if I proved my worth, I could outrun the pain. And, for a while, I did. The pandemic, however, had other plans. I landed in Madrid, ready to embrace this new life, this new chapter that I had sacrificed so much for. Hell, I left my job in Charlotte, ended my lease at my apartment Uptown, and packed up everything into a small storage unit to buy a one-way ticket to Madrid. But just five days in, everything came crashing down due to COVID. The world shut down. My internship evaporated. The future I had built in my mind—gone. And I was forced to return home. To my hometown. At the age of 28.

I can’t describe the humiliation and hopelessness I felt when I walked back through that door, having failed at the one thing that I had put all my eggs into. But I carried on. After all, this was only supposed to be a temporary, brief setback. Two weeks of quarantine and then surely I'd hop back onto a flight to Madrid. But it turned into years of disillusionment, confusion, and depression. I bounced around doing any job remotely related to my industry of choice, trying to keep my head above water while also ignoring the years of trauma I had yet to deal with. I didn’t know how to pick myself up.

At this point I was obviously single. It had been years that I'd shut the world out trying to heal my own wounds while also focusing on doing what I needed to do to move to Spain. I was alone. And worse, I was angry at myself for letting my life fall apart. I became someone I didn’t recognize—stagnant, self-loathing, and stuck in a cycle of self-pity.

However, somewhere, in the depths of my despair, I began to heal. It wasn’t a dramatic moment of clarity, but more like a slow, steady burn. It wasn’t the result of one single decision; it was the culmination of many small choices, each one a tiny step toward reclaiming my life. The first step? I finally prioritized my health and well-being again.

In 2023, something clicked. I started working on my physical health, getting back into the gym, and paying attention to what I put into my body. I started focusing on the small things that brought me joy, no matter how insignificant they seemed at the time. I began to feel like me again—alive, present, and slowly rediscovering the person I once was before heartbreak had knocked the wind out of me. But it wasn’t just about fitness. It was about opening myself back up to life. Saying "yes" more. Taking risks.

In comes 2024. I felt whole again. I even traveled, seeing new places, meeting new people. It felt like a rebirth. My heart, which had been closed off for so long, was slowly opening again. I began to let myself feel things. I started to let myself want things—not just the career I thought I should want or the relationship I thought I was supposed to have, but what I truly wanted. I've even recently began to dip my toe into dating again. It's not always easy or fun, and sometimes it can be chaotic and confusing, but hell, I'm down for it.

For the first time in years, I dared to believe that maybe love was possible again. Not just love from others, but the love I was learning to give myself. For years, I had been stuck in the mindset that I wasn’t enough—that my worth was tied to external validation or achievements. But now, I’m realizing that my value is intrinsic. I am enough, just as I am.

I know this road isn’t over. The journey of healing is ongoing, and I know I’ll face more challenges in the future. But for the first time in a long time, I have a sense of peace with who I am and where I am in life.

Looking back, I’m proud of myself. I weathered storms I never thought I could. I survived heartbreak that nearly broke me. I endured a pandemic and the disappointment of shattered plans. And in the end, I came out stronger, wiser, and more open to whatever life has in store.

I’ve learned that resilience isn’t about avoiding the hard times—it’s about learning how to rise from them. It’s about trusting that, like a cat, I’ll always land on my feet. No matter how many times life knocks me down, I know I have the strength to rise again.

So, as I look forward to the future, I do so with a sense of optimism. I’m ready for whatever comes next. Maybe love will find me again. Maybe it won’t. But either way, I’ll be okay. Because I’ve learned that the most important relationship I’ll ever have is the one with myself. And that’s a relationship that, no matter what, will always be worth investing in.

Here’s to 2025!

xx PL

[fartburger29]

Howdy Howdy!

Your monthly update! More below….

So…

Well I’ve been gone for almost two months! I promised myself I’d stop doing that…I draw so much, and then I hardly archive it here! Sort no need to though, your girl has been mostly doing gesture drawings and anatomy practice. In between hellish finals that is, thank god it’s over! Going to a big Uni fresh out of highschool wasn’t such a fresh idea! My plan now is to work on raising my gpa and building a better portfolio! All at…..*drum roll* community college!

Which…I really should have done in the first place but that’s OKAY!

little drawing of me from a while ago…good page breaker or whatever i dunno!

And so….well I obviously haven’t worked on my website or toyhouse yet, whoops! Haven’t had the damn time…but I think working on a Straw.page might be best for now instead of a full blown website! The link will be on my blog once that’s done…another thing I just remembered! I need to link my blogs together…I really wanna keep my *main* blog and my side art blogs separate, so I may delete or rearrange some things…I really hate having such a spread out presence on the internet, it’s a bit daunting! I think my art blogs may merge into one, and my other socials may be deleted or just kept private! Yeahhh…

A note to myself and others in the future-

my blog(s?), twitter, website (or straw.page), toyhouse, ko-fi, and youtube will all be under the name kisunyah! anywhere else im on is either private or just not associated with my art! I say this (again..I know I already posted about it) so that my art is more easily findable and easier archived! (Maybe one day I’ll have another try at a public art Instagram account…but it’s rough though…everytime I flop :’)…)

I’ll work hard to link everything when I have a chance :D I really want to share my art and make it an easy and enjoyable experience to share! - ps! I’ll be working on that test comic still! Hooray!

- Itzel, signing out againnnn! > :•3

[m1dn1ghtposts]

// tw: suicide, death, self harm, sexual assault, mental illness, vent //

00:22 am

i saw a post about wondering if your 12 year old self would be proud of you today, and i really thought about everything that’s happened. i’ve done some great things but some equally bad ones too, so in this post i’ll go through some of those.

- i graduated high school early with a high gpa

i also reached record suicide attempts when i switched schools, almost succeeded a couple of times, and relapsed into self harm… something she hated. i still pick at my skin, and think about joining my love pretty often. i was physically and verbally abused because a guy that tried to rape me while i was under the influence got mad when i rejected him. yeah i skipped a grade, but i lost everyone, and nobody believed in me until my name was read off at graduation. if i didnt have my partner at the time i would have broken down completely, theres no way i could come back from that much of a dark place and been okay.

- i got accepted into the college i wanted to go to

my car, the only thing that has consistently kept me hanging on to this life, was keyed while i was there. my roommates were toxic and lied to my partner to disrupt my relationship. i couldn’t focus on my classes because they would have people over until anywhere from midnight to 3am. i couldnt get a job because whenever i would show up in my usual dark outfits and makeup to any place in the little country town i would get great reviews as far as capabilities and qualifications go, but never a call back. id also get weird looks all the time, maybe im crazy and seeing things but when a bunch of boys say im scary looking and they feel threatened i dont always take it as a compliment. not to mention the sudden and horrific passing of my partner during finals, the event that drove me to dropping out. to this day im fighting for a refund, despite it all happening within the fall of 2022 semester.

- i drive a cool car and found a really neat interest

i hardly ever get compliments, and my car is damaged, though i’ll never say exactly where. theres chips in the paint where rust pokes through, a piece missing from my windows tint, sun damage on parts of my paint, scratches everywhere either from the keying or from her previous owners… i could point out every little flaw forever. i love my car so much, its crazy to me that i never realized earlier how much i love cars, but that doesn’t mean anybody else appreciates the work and money i put into my car to keep her clean and shiny. not to mention how misogynistic the car community is. its depressing to see some of the posts ive seen, saying how women terrible drivers and dont know anything about cars. not only is it depressing to see from some of my favorite content creators, but its making me want to stop trying. stop pouring so much effort into something nobody will appreciate except me. maybe this is dramatic, but its true to me. once every month or two it takes a few of my friends to convince me to keep trying and keep building her up, but when most of what i see is negativity its very hard to ignore. i dont need everyone to like my car, i dont need everyone to be accepting of women either, i just want to feel like im a part of a community i allign a lot with. isnt the whole point to bond over wanting to modify your car and watch the progress?

- i did great in band and survived all 3 years of marching band (remember, i skipped a year)

i havent touched my trumpet in forever and started smoking sophomore year from stress, right around the school change. i know its bad and will kill me someday, but do i really care? so what, im only alive today because of pure luck. its really sad to say, but i couldnt care less about when this all ends, all i want is to feel okay. i just want to have this small vice and if it kills me someday so be it. also, for every great achievement in band i screwed up a run equally as bad or just didnt even play the music. its hard to stay motivated in a place that hates you.

basically, for every achievement i can boast, there’s an equal or greater bad side to it. at least thats what it seems like. maybe im just negative, or maybe im realistic. why should i lie to myself anyways? my 12 year old self was great at every subject and at least tried to be happy and spread joy despite the bullying. she didnt know about her own abuse, from a family member no less. she didnt know why her step brother liked touching her privates or why he kept doing weird things with her dolls. now it just keeps happening, with everybody i hold close. not even just sexual assault, but manipulation ive learned to notice, straight up abuse that i never recognized. honestly, my current self sees no real value in doing really anything, i’ll lay in bed all day if i cant get up. i could have failed out of college and i couldnt even get a job until it was fully remote. i abuse my body and i cant stop, i dont know how. i smoked weed in college because i couldnt sleep or calm down and now most nights there are a blur, its all i had to cope while 1.5 hours away from my partner… when i had him. maybe its my fault, maybe i just screw up everything i touch like the inverse of midas. i cant tell, i just know im losing it.

[winglesscrow]

January 2, 2023:

Day 2.

I didn’t end up getting my chai latte yesterday OR going to the gym; sooooo, that was a bust. However - I did get a coal-fired pizza and that was equally a delicious option.

I diddddd get a chai latte this morning, and a sweet ass açaí bowl (with extra bananas, of course). I also got a banana macnut muffin, but I wasn’t really feeling that today as much as I thought I would.

Feeling extra sleepy and a little spacey today. Likely from how sick I’ve been the past week. This one really took a lot out of me. Literally walking around the store or taking a short drive completely winded me most days this week. But as patterns prove; I’m always sick on the holidays. Could that be a mental thing? Maybe both. Good topic to pin for me to do some research in. Big fan of case studies. Anyway - I made it to the gym today.

Up until January of 2022, I actually was working towards Nursing (I know, very Filipino of me). I had all of my prerequisites courses completed and everything. But the one thing that stopped me was my science GPA - I literally was .1 away from the application requirement and would’ve had to retake one of my courses to get that point. I took that as a sign that the universe was telling me that this is not where I would be happiest. And honestly? I’m not mad about it. I changed my major to Cyber Security & Networking with a focus on Digital Forensics - and I’ve never been happier! My first 2 semesters of college right after it finished high school was actually towards Computer Science; so honestly it all came full circle.

I grew up around computers my entire life and learned to build my first computer at 12 years old. My dad introduced me to programming (specifically Python & Windows Powershell) and networking foundations, and I really fell in love with technology then. It just makes sense to me. Something about being able to take something apart piece by piece and put it back together; like a puzzle. I’m a very big puzzle fan. Between 16 to 25, I was a huge car enthusiast - which I realize now was just me trying to fill a void away from computers. I’m still a car fan, but I’m taking a break until I finish college and can start my own builds. I like to get my hands dirty.

Lots of big plans for myself in the future. I just need to keep pulling myself through the muddy pit between now and then. I’m closer than I’ve ever been, and I can taste it on the tip of my tongue! Somehow it simultaneously feels so damn far away that I may never reach it. But if I allowed myself to believe that I could never reach my goals, what would be the point of any of this? Anything I’ve done and am preparing myself to do would be meaningless. And I just couldn’t survive if I thought that way.

To another day closer to the future,

- C.

Currently listening to:

God Went North - Nothing More

[ateezmakemeweep]

playing with fire (part 1)

word count: 23k

fluff, smut (warning: age gap, infidelity, roommate’s father)

(series masterlist)

“is there any other way you could pay?” the woman behind the desk asked, stout and soft spoken with sympathy in her eyes.

she probably has to have this conversation with students a lot, tell them that their tuition payment didn’t go through or that they’re not eligible for government support.

or that the athletics department needed more scholarship money, successfully rendering you, one of the many photography majors on campus, unable to pay for your last semester of college.

“a loan of some sort or another scholarship, maybe?” she tried to help, “i could send over an e-mail of ones you might be eligible for.”

you swallow the lump forming in your throat, attempting to calm all the anxiety and stress violently making its way through your body.

“y-yes, that would be great, thank you,” you barely manage to get out, hoping and praying to some unknown force above that you don’t burst into tears.

you were nearing the end of the fall semester, the last fall semester you ever anticipated of having, when you found out just last week that you were no longer eligible for your scholarship.

in a short, curt e-mail explaining that, while you kept up your gpa and never strayed from the requirements, they’ve maxed out their amount of funding and are looking to use that money elsewhere.

“can they do that!?” your best friend and roommate of four years yelps, gucci sunglasses atop her head as she stomps around your shared, off-campus apartment.

“they can’t seriously do that! you’ve been a straight a student since you started and now they wanna take it away?! before your last semester of senior year?!”

“eunbi, it’s not ideal but i’ve already come to terms with it,” you explain gently, leaving out the part where you did, in fact, have a break down right outside the bursar office only an hour ago. “i’ll just save up money and come back in the fall to finish.”

“that’s so not right or fair though!” she whines, something about the concept of not getting what she wants unfamiliar to your roommate.

you first met park eunbi during freshmen move in day, your two raggedy luggages and beat up backpacks an embarrassing contrast to the multiple louis vuitton travel bags she lunged in.

you were intimidated for all of three seconds, before she looked at you with a smile and threw her arms around you like a long lost best friend.

it was obvious she came from money, the way she spoke and carried herself so confidently before her parents came in and introduced themselves.

they were both gorgeous and tall and looked far too young to have an 18-year-old daughter, covered in fancy jewelry and expensive looking clothing.

her dad, who introduced himself as mr. park seonghwa, didn’t seem to bat an eye at your more humble appearance. he reminded you a lot of eunbi, honest and genuine in the way he was kind and nonjudgemental.

mrs. park seemed nice enough, too, though you could see the judgement behind her pretty eyes.

the way she sneered at your bags and looked down at your hands, so different from her and her daughter’s not covered in diamond bracelets or acrylic nails.

“did we just miss your parents?” she asked, her voice just as pretty and rich sounding as she appeared; you bet if she laughed, she’d had have that melodic, care-free laugh all rich women seem to have.

“oh, uh, yeah, i’m sorry,” you apologized, lying through your teeth with a shy smile and averting gaze - you had to move in by yourself, the same way you traveled here all alone with no one to send you off.

“it’s okay, we just thought it’d be nice to meet them,” eunbi’s father interjects, the smile on his handsome face causing your stomach to swoop - how is he a dad?

“we were gonna take eunbi to an early dinner before we left. do you wanna join us?”

“oh no, it’s okay, i’d hate to intru-”

“no, you’re coming, c’mon!” your new roommate whined, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the door. “we’ll be able to get a lot of dessert out of them. probably the whole menu if we wanted.”

and you saw that over the years, eunbi knew she could, in fact, get whatever she wanted from her parents. they had the money and the means and the fondness in their hearts for their only daughter.

but it never seemed to get to your friend.

she was always kind and thoughtful of others and never said or did anything to suggest she was just a brainless, spoiled rich kid.

even in your guy’s second year when she found out you were going to school on an academic scholarship, she didn’t care. she didn’t turn her nose up or think you were lesser than her for not having the funds; if anything, it only made her praise you more.

that you were smart and ambitious enough to work under the strict guidelines of a prestigious scholarship.

“i know it’s not fair,” you mumble, not wanting to cry or have another anxiety attack over this matter. “but it is what it is. i’ll figure it out.”

she lets out a dejected, defeated sigh so uncharacteristic of the girl, plopping down on her pink, fluffy bed and bringing you down with her.

“we’ll sell feet pics over winter break,” she concludes after a few minutes of silence, wrapping her arm around yours and curling her body into yours. “you know how much money we can get from that? and we have pretty feet,” she says, sticking her leg up and wiggling her red, painted toes.

there’s a little less tightness in your chest and a little heaviness lifted in your stomach as you let out a giggle, looking over at your best friend who truly got you through the last four years of school.

you really don’t know how you’d still be functioning if it weren’t for her.

“you’re sick.”

“i’m serious,” she giggles out, flipping on her side and causing the bed to bounce under you. “you’re still good with coming tomorrow, right? i told my parents you were.”

she had invited you to her house for the winter break this year, the girl not wanting you to spend a month alone in the apartment.

you’ve shared with her how strained your relationship with your parents has been, really, since birth. never seeing eye to eye to them and feeling as if they never had your best interests at heart.

when most kids get full ride scholarships, their parents are immensely proud. bragging about how smart they are and telling them how proud they were.

but your parents were the opposite.

they didn’t want you to up and leave them to pursue an education. they thought you were gonna stay with them forever, not go to college like them and help run the family business back home in your tiny little hometown.

it was your dream to go to college and get a degree, though, so that’s exactly what you did for yourself; but they saw it as a giant fuck you.

saw it as you thinking you were better than them and basically told you to never come back if you thought you were so much smarter and better off without them.

so you’d spent every winter or summer vacation in the dorms, this year finally being the time you accepted eunbi’s invitation to stay over - reluctantly.

“i packed all my stuff, yeah,” you mumble, hands twisted into one another nervously. “but... are you sure they’re okay with it? i don’t wanna intrude or be there if i’m not wanted.”

“y/n, please,” she whines, “my mom may be a raging bitch but you know i make the rules in that house.”

“that’s not what i meant,” you mutter immediately, looking to the girl with a small frown on your lips.

although it was no secret eunbi’s mom didn’t ever seem too fond of you, always sneering at your off-brand items or questioning the logistics of why exactly you needed a scholarship to afford college, you always tried to remain polite.

smile at her and greet her happily even though there was always a thick, palpable tension between you two.

“oh but it is,” she chuckles out, the girl far too aware of what a materialistic snob her mother is. “it’s fine, i know she’s a bitch. my dad’s just coming tomorrow anyway. i told him to bring one of the bigger cars so we can lay out in the back.”

you have to bite back a snarky comment about the fact there are multiple cars in question, though the look in your eye certainly gives it away. she can only giggle and shrug her shoulders, flopping onto her back as she tells you about how excited she is to be reunited with her boyfriend.

eunbi and jiwoon have been dating since their second year of high school, going to colleges only an hour away from each other; he was just as handsome as he was kind and good to her, leaving you with no other option but to love and support the both of them.

and you try to listen to her rambling that ensues, you really do, but your mind is swirling with some slight anxiety about staying with her family for a month.

you don’t wanna make her mom even more irritated, deal with the side eyes and passive aggressive comments and overall feeling of just not being wanted.

you don’t want eunbi to feel obligated to be with you 24/7, act as a cock block to her and her boyfriend who haven’t seen each other in almost six weeks.

and maybe, you don’t want your tiny, small, miniscule crush on mr. park to make you feel any more awkward than it does, wondering how a married man who has a daughter in college is still so handsome and alluring.

it also doesn’t help that he’s just so incredibly kind, always making everyone feel so comfortable and welcomed, it’d be hard not to just develop a little, secret crush on him.

“eunbi, who is that sexy ass man who just dropped you off?” one of your suite mates asks your roommate, everyone gathering back in front of the dorm building after winter break.

it was sophomore year and you spent a month in the quiet, almost eerie college dorms alone (apart from the ra down the hall). you were grateful for everyone to return, no matter how loud or catty things were about to become.

“yeah, for real. is that your new boyfriend? he’s hotter than the last one and i didn’t even think that was possible.”

“uhhh.. no,” eunbi says, shooting the crowd of girls with lustful eyes and curious glances a look of distaste. “that’s my dad.”

and that’s when a chorus of disbelief and inappropriate comments erupted from the group of college girls.

asking how a dad could look like that while hoping and praying he’s single.

inquiring about just how much her dad’s on campus and when’s the next time he’s gonna pick her up.

about how he’s definitely hotter than her boyfriend, with a more mature and sophisticated look than these college boys.

“are they fucking serious! like how disgusting? he’s my literal father!” eunbi rages once in the dorm room, sharing a few curse words and vulgar phrases at the girl’s before stomping away from them.

“and for them to say that shit in front of me? did they think i want to hear that?”

“i know, that was so sick,” you agree, because even though you, too, think he’s attractive, it’s not something you would ever verbalize to your friend.

“like... i know he’s younger than most dads, my parents had me when they were teenagers, but shit! how sick,” she rants, throwing down her heavy designer bags and flopping on her bed.

you can tell by the look on her face how much it truly bothers her, everyone always noticing her dad and making comments like that. she handles it well, she’s always able to handle herself well, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that it’s something that worries her.

people getting close to her to get to her dad, even if it was teachers or other moms in elementary school or her friends when she got to college.

it’s one of the many reasons you would never give away your little crush on him - because it’s not only inappropriate and uncomfortable for her to know but there’s also no need to tell her.

because it’s not like it would go anywhere.

he’s a married man and your roommate’s father, a twisted, dark, forbidden fantasy that will stay in the walls of your head and never see the light of day - no matter how thrilling and fulfilling being with him would be.

“eunbi, your dad’s gonna be here soon,” you yell into your roommate’s doorway, met with the sound of her groaned “five more minutes!” that you’ve been hearing for the past twenty.

she was on facetime with jiwoon when you went to bed around one, briefly waking to the sound of her girlish screams or high-pitched giggles three hours later; you wouldn’t be surprised if she only went to bed a few hours ago.

“you said five more minutes thirty minutes ago,” you say, stomping your way over before smacking her over the head with a pillow. she lets out a loud sigh before swatting you away, your surprisingly fast reflexes grabbing her wrist.

she peeks one eye open as a smirk covers her morning face, looking from you all dressed up and ready in your pink pleated skirt and white thigh high stockings, down to her wrist in your hold.

“that was kinda hot. and you look good. i don’t know how to act right now.”

“shut up and get your ass out of bed,” you demand, biting back a smile as you storm out of her room.

you’d been pacing around the apartment ever since you woke up at seven a.m., more and more unsettled about staying over her house as the time drew closer.

you checked to make sure you had enough clothes and chargers and skincare products for nearly an hour, finally settling the same purple suitcase you moved in with freshmen year near the door.

you hope mrs. park doesn’t notice, remembering the way she sneered at the wonky zipper and slightly stained bottom.

you also hope you can keep yourself in check, not get too nervous or flustered by eunbi’s exorbitant wealth or a new setting you don’t feel welcomed in or her hot ass father whose bones you wanna jump.

the knock at the door completely sobers you, jumping in your spot just in time to see eunbi fly across the living room to get to the door. there’s a big, happy smile on her face, ripping open the door and greeting her father in typical eunbi fashion.

“are those for me?” she asks, snatching the red box from his hands.

excitement bubbles inside the girl as she unveils twelve chocolate covered strawberries, a speciality at one of the local dessert shops just a few miles from her home.

“you shouldn’t have, dad, really. i’m much too tired to appreciate this.”

the man can only look at his daughter with a look of disdain and affection, waking up to an extremely passive aggressive text that she’d really appreciate an early morning treat from her favorite place ever and that it’d really inspire her to be ready.

but as he can currently see, given the state of her hair and pajamas pants, it didn’t at all act as a motivator.

“then maybe i should just-” but upon her father’s hand reaching out to grab the box of strawberries, the girl brings it to her body and runs away, yelling that her bags are packed and she’s just gonna wash her face.

he looks to you with a mock annoyed expression, your heart jumping in your chest as you send him a small, polite smile.

“how do you deal with her, y/n?” he asks, a smirk on his face rising as you let out a soft, slightly forced giggle - this man looks too good for his own good at ten o’clock in the morning.

“don’t talk shit about me!” she yelps before you can even think to say something, a smile lighting up his face again before he nods his head down the hall.

“i’ll bring down your girl’s bags,” he says, his tall, large frame coming toward you making your knees feel slightly wobbly.

you swear you see his eyes roam over you for the shortest of seconds, down to your shirt and exposed legs before back to your face, until he’s looking into your eyes questioningly.

totally not like someone who just checked out their daughter’s roommate - this is what you feared, your own delusionals and attraction making your crazy little brain see something that’s not there.

“her bedroom’s down that hall?”

you resist the urge to swallow nervously, begging yourself to snap out of it and remind yourself you have to deal with the man for a month. a month of his dark, piercing eyes and bright, white smile and skin so smooth and clear, it’s far too easy to forget he’s almost forty years old.

“yeah,” you barely manage to get out. “i-i can help and bring down mine.”

“no, it’s okay,” he insists, “help in getting eunbi ready. you know she’ll delay us thirty more minutes.”

you let out another strained chuckle as you nod your head, finally letting out the breath you’ve been holding when you hear his footsteps disappear down the hall and into her room.

as long as you distance yourself from him, not look him in the eye or let any sort of idea get in your head that an older, married man could want you back, this will be fine.

it’ll be a nice, calm, relaxed break actually full of interaction and socialization opposed to your usual lonely bubble of solitude.

eunbi’s not making that very easy though, when twenty minutes later, she’s opening the back door of her father’s black g-wagen and sprawling out on the black leather seats.

“where’s y/n supposed to go, eunbi?” seonghwa asked, the fatherly tone is his voice causing eunbi to let out a huff; the only time you see eunbi’s spoiled tendencies come out is around her father, the girl knowing he’ll do anything and everything for her.

and apparently, so will you.

sitting in the front seat of her car, next to her extremely hot father you’re trying to stay calm around, while she sleeps soundly in the backseat - if she didn’t invite to stay at her home, meals and bed and transportation free, you’d say she has to owe you.

“was she up all night talking to jiwoon?” mr. park asked, the past few moments of silence just as comforting as they were terrifying. it felt awkward to you, extremely tense and full of suspense, but you knew it was completely normal.

you bite down on your lip, looking back at eunbi sleeping soundly on the seat, even prepared with a fuzzy white blanket. you let out a soft giggle when you see her mouth open, the slightest bit of drool hanging from her mouth and threatening to spill on the dark leather.

“she might’ve been,” you mutter, a breathy laugh leaving her father that causes you to sneak a glance at him.

there’s not a hint of a wrinkle or imperfection on his glowing skin, black hair hanging in his face and red lips quirked into a content smile. that’s something you always noticed about him, despite his dark appearance and looming figure, he always appears to be happy.

smiles and laughs and never gives anyone without his same wealth a dirty glance - he treats everyone the same and that’s another reason you’ve taking a liking to him, not just because he’s the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life.

“y/n?” he asks, your intrusive thoughts being ripped away at the sound of his voice calling your name.

your eyes move to his and he’s watching you in slight amusement, a rampant blush creeping up on your cheeks at the way you’ve been caught. you’re quick to look away, shake your head and let out an awkward chuckle and apology.

you miss the way his eyes roam your side profile, a delightful smirk and feeling in his chest blooming before he speaks again.

“how was your semester?”

“it was good,” you say, hands placed nervously in your lap. “a lot of work on top of an internship but it was good.”

“and you girls are almost done,” he hums lowly, one hand atop the steering wheel while his eyes focus on the highway in front of him. “eunbi’s been talking about a combined graduation party since the moment you guys met.”

you let out a small laugh as you remember eunbi’s plan since your second semester of freshmen year, ignoring the twinge of sadness in your stomach.

you could’ve never anticipated delaying your college career when you first received your scholarship, happy and proud and eternally grateful for the opportunity.

but you suppose you’re lucky enough to have gotten this far, and delaying one last semester is nothing compared to people who never get to go to college - but it still makes you feel upset.

you think you have the right to feel disappointed and sad, the lingering sick feeling in your stomach making you feel nauseous.

“is it okay if i open the window for a second?” you mumble to mr. park, the man looking over your face.

he presses down on the passenger window button immediately, your face met with cold air as relief floods through your body.

“are you okay? do you get car sick?” he asks, remembering how much eunbi used to get car sick (on the rare occasion she wasn’t passed out during a road trip).

“not usually,” you mumble, resting your head on the side of the door.

then again, i’m not usually freaking out about making tuition money or repressing my violent attraction to my roommate’s father.

seonghwa watches as you close your eyes for a few moment, allowing the cold, windy air to hit your face. he couldn’t help but notice the pinkish tint to your cheeks, suppressing the urge for his eyes and thoughts to wander.

you’re a college girl in the prime of her life and his daughter’s best friend, he’d be a fool to think you were blushing and nervous because of him - but he also doesn’t remember you looking like.... this.

so pretty and dressed up and pink in the face as you check him out with a soft and curious look in your eye.

“maybe try to take a nap,” he suggests, his gaze lingering back onto the road so he doesn’t look at your exposed legs. “i’ll pull off at a rest stop to get you ginger ale.”

“that’s not necessary, mr. park,” your sweet voice says, something about it causing his insides to jump - he definitely doesn’t remember you sounding like that. “i’ll be okay. just need the window open for a little longer.”

you spend the next few minutes with the cold, december wind blowing through the car, your back pressed against the comfortable seat behind you. a chill runs through your body, goosebumps rising on your exposed thighs, but it feels better than the alternative.

potentially panicking or vomiting due to current stress of your life.

your gaze shifts to the man beside you, whether it be to check him out or ask if he’s cold unknown to you.

“are you okay with the-”

the words are stuck in your throat when you see his eyes aren’t on the road but your exposed, goose-bumpy thighs, the white lace of your thigh high stockings and pink skirt leaving little to the imagination.

you wish you could see the look in his eye, if it’s judgemental and shameful or full of lust and curiosity. if he’s wondering what you have on just a few inches under your skirt and if that’s something he even thinks about.

or maybe he’s just looking because it’s there - your skirt blowing in the wind and him caught off guard by the sight right there in his passenger seat.

“um, i think i’m good now,” you mumble, watching from your peripheral as he shifts in his seat and tightens his hold on the steering wheel.

“alright, let me know if you wanna stop.”

you bite down on your lip as you nod your head, keeping your eyes on the view in front of you.

the faint sounds of eunbi snoring behind you act as a way to ground you, remind you that these thoughts and feelings you’re having can’t stay.

maybe you have to get it our of your system now, take all the looks you can and feel all the hopefulness your delusional brain needs until you act as if eunbi’s father is a mean, disgusting, grotesque man.

not someone who gets your heart and body pounding.

you’re not sure how many songs play on the radio until you both are talking again, seonghwa looking in the rearview mirror to see his daughter still passed out on the seats.

“do you think she’ll sleep the whole time?”

he hope for his sake, she doesn’t.

you look back at eunbi sleeping soundly, the drool previously trickling down her mouth successfully making a pool on the black leather.

“probably,” you chuckle out lightly. “i have a feeling she went to bed around six.”

“shit,” he laughs out, remembering the days he used to be able to pull all nighters in college or dreaded the idea of waking up in the morning. “i can’t remember the last time i was able to stay up past one.”

“you’re not even that old, mr. park,” you tease, not sure where you got the balls to say that and feeling, at least for a few seconds, that you overstepped; but then he lets out a deep, amused chuckle and it causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

“not that old, huh?” he quips, your tooth sinking into your lip at the tone of his voice. “you know i’m turning 40 in a few months, right?”

you crane your neck to look at the man in the driver’s seat, swallowing thickly when you see his eyes are already on you. there’s a certain type of lightness and teasing in them that you’ve never seen before, the man always happy and jovial but never like this.

never looking so... teasing and playful.

“yeah,” you say with a growing smirk, not being able to help your own nervous excitement. “that doesn’t seem too bad.”

the deep, low chuckle that leaves him causes your stomach to swoop, eyes wide and the small smile on your face causing him to look over you once more.

it’s shameless and bold but neither of you seem to care in that moment.

“i’ll keep that in mind,” he says, deep brown eyes piercing through yours before his face turns teasing and.. appropriate.. “the next time eunbi tries to call me an old man or something.”

“right,” you chuckle out, cheeks burning and heart pounding as you allow yourself to break eye contact.

the ride to eunbi’s house is just over two hours, hoping and praying that it goes by quickly - because you’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to be alone, or mostly alone, with him.

you’re thinking too much into his words and his gaze and the way he makes you feel, making you silly enough to believe that, maybe, a part of him wants you too.

the second you arrived at eunbi’s, you had already felt unwelcomed.

not only because of mrs. park, who just about sneered at your presence in her exquisite home, but because of the dozens of other socialites in the immaculately white living room.

it looked and felt almost like a hospital. a white color scheme with black accents, extremely cold and spotless - the only bit of color was in eunbi’s room where it felt like you could actually breathe.

“i’m sorry, i told her not to throw her fucking gathering today,” eunbi complained, grumpy from her nap but still happy to finally be home.

“a bunch of stuck up snobs, i swear to god. they either have to get the stick lodged so far up their asshole removed or get dicked down by their lousy excuses of-”

“eunbi,” you hear her father’s deep voice reprimand, the girl not even feeling the slightest bit of shame or embarrassment for talking that way in front of her father.

“oh, c’mon, dad, you know it’s true!” she whines in a whispered tone. “they’re the worst! and she knew me and y/n were coming today, do you really think that wasn’t a coincidence?”

because, as far as eunbi thinks, she has sinking suspicions that her mom did this solely to make you uncomfortable.

she had already been hesitant to let you stay in the first place, had eunbi not gone full on bitch mode and stubbornly proclaimed she’d spend the break with you at the apartment.

but you didn’t have to know that.

“i don’t care, it’ll just be my first christmas without my family, mom, who cares about that,” she had said, all types of manipulative and toxic behavior that she learned from the best.

she’s sure her mother was sweet and good at one point in her life, she wouldn’t have ended up with her father in the first place if she wasn’t, but money changes people.

wealth and greed and having the power to get anything you want because you flash a stack of money around or write out a check.

“i told her to have them out by dinner,” he said, his eyes moving from eunbi to you, standing there with tense shoulders and a shy, uncomfortable look on your face.

“you’re more than welcomed here, y/n,” he said, his voice low and full of kindness as he stands in eunbi’s doorway. “don’t worry about it, okay?”

you resist the urge to pout at the touched feeling in your chest, looking from the man to eunbi who’s nodding at her dad’s words.

“thank you, mr. park,” you say, a phrase he swears has never effected him this deeply.

and because of that, he’s quick to haul ass out of there. tells you guys that dinner will be ready around seven and to come down whenever.

you and eunbi spend that time in her room to unpack both of your things and watch movies, her king sized bed nearly lulling you to sleep until her loud squeal and bounce of the bed causes you to jump in shock.

“y/n, don’t be mad at me please,” she whines directly in your face, all wide-eyed and cutesy as she looks at you with mock innocence.

“what did you do?” you mumble tiredly, pushing her away with the smallest of sneers.

“i’ll be back for dinner, i promise, but... is it okay if i go to jiwoon’s for a little?” she asks, cocking her head to the side before shimming closer to you. “i have to get railed so bad.”

“jesus christ, eunbi,” you snort, pushing her away again and burying your face in the pillow - you’ve never met someone who overshares as much as she does.

she plops down on her back with an unabashed giggle, popping right back up like an annoying little dog and looking at you with a smile.

“of course you can go, i’m not gonna hold you hostage here,” you say when she pulls your face away, looking at you so expectantly and sweetly, you couldn’t say no if you wanted.

“okay, but i don’t want you thinking that i’m gonna ditch you this whole time. i’m really not, y/n,” she pouts, knowing that was one of the reasons you were apprehensive about coming - that and her bitch of a mother. “i just miss him.”

a pout falls on your face as you look at eunbi and the genuine look on her face.

“bi, i’m serious, go. i want you to,” you insist, moving a piece of her tangled hair away from her face. “we were just gonna be up here anyway. i’ll probably take a nap, i was about to fall asleep before your loud ass-”

“thank you, thank you, thank you,” she says, pulling you into a tight hug before jumping off her bed and rushing toward her door. “i’ll be back a lot more calm and happy. oh, why, you ask? because i’m about to get my back blown the fuck ou-”

you thank god for your impeccable aim, promptly whacking eunbi in the face with one of her pillows.

“get out of here,” you groan, eunbi throwing the pillow back with a smile on her face.

“sweet dreams, y/n!”

you let out a sigh when she closes her door, falling back onto her bed with a soft plop.

you were definitely tired from your anxious pacing this morning but aren’t sure how much sleep you’re gonna get right now, tonight or for the rest of the month.

knowing that you’re unwelcomed by one person, extremely attracted to another and silently betraying the person you should be most loyal too - but as long as it just stays in your head, and you remind yourself that there’s no way mr. park could feel anything back to you, it’ll be fine.

you’ll just get by quietly and smoothly at dinners or in passing through the hallways, enjoy eunbi’s comfortable king-sized bed and the fact that you don’t have to spend yet another holiday alone.

reruns of drake and josh play in the background, keeping your giggles quiet as drake soaks his feet in lizard pee. you feel your eyes grow heavy the more episodes you watch, the shitty laugh track and loud, bickering brothers eventually lulling you to sleep.

it takes about five knocks on the door to eventually stir you, your eyes fluttering open to see mr park’s figure in the doorway. you can only stare at the man as you adjust to him, taking in his tall, slim figure just a few feet away from you.

taking in the way his white shirt clings to his body, broad shoulders and slim torso on display in a way that makes you wish you could see, just for a second, what he looks like underneath that a-

“sorry if i woke you,” his deep voice hums, the slightest bit of amusement in his voice that causes your cheeks to warm. “i didn’t think you’d be sleeping at seven p.m.”

“no, it’s okay,” you stammer out, sitting up in eunbi’s bed. “i... i don’t even know when i fell asleep, to be honest.”

he looks at the screen to see drake and josh playing, a smirk pulling at his lips as his gaze shifts back to you.

“it’s funny,” you defend with a mumble, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth that causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach - he’s far too handsome, everything about him is just far too attractive, even in his laugh.

“that’s what eunbi claims,” he says, remembering all the years of his daughter forcing him to watch ridiculous shows.

despite his daughter’s outgoing nature, she never had a lot of friends growing up.

there was once a small group of girls she hung out but they quickly drifted apart throughout high school, leaving eunbi really only with him and her boyfriend.

the boyfriend who seonghwa really didn’t wanna like out of principal but seeing that the kid really does love his daughter quickly coming around.

“speaking of, where is she? jiwoon’s?”

“yeah,” you tell him, settling back into the pillows and stretching your arms out in front of you. “she said she’d be back for dinner.”

“well she’s wrong, as usual, because dinner’s ready,” he quips playfully, the smirk pulling at his lips causing you to smile back at him. you swallow nervously when his eyes roam over your face, your own gaze trained on him before you see his mouth start to move again.

“do you want me to bring some up for you? or you’ll come down?”

he can see the apprehension on your face immediately, fear crossing your eyes and your arms folding into each other uncomfortably. he tries to ignores the way your soft white sweater dips by your chest, a hint of perky cleavage just barely showing that causes his dick to twitch in his pants.

he doesn’t know when this happened.

he didn’t know when he became a pervy old man who checked out college girls with his wife just downstairs and the knowledge that you’re his daughter’s friend.

“i’ll come down,” you say, surprising him just as he was about to insist he brings some up for you. “she’ll probably be back soon anyway.”

but five minutes pass by, then ten, then twenty and eunbi’s still not home - it’s just you, seonghwa and mrs. park at the long, glass dining room table.

white chairs with high backs and comfortable cushions to match the immaculate, hospital-like color scheme and environment; truthfully, you’ve never been more terrified to eat a plate of chicken parmesan in your life.

the sound of utensils scraping on the china and the crackling of the fireplace a room over are the only noises heard throughout the home, mrs. park taking a swig of wine and gently placing it on the table with a light clack.

“so, y/n,” she finally says, breaking the tension with her rich-sounding, nasally voice. “how has school been, dear? you’re an... art major, am i remembering that correctly?”

“uh, photography, yeah,” you smile tensely, trying to ignore the judgment in her voice.

“ah, so you never switched over to business then,” she hums, her wine glass back in hand as her dark, gorgeous eyes look you over.

you bite the inside of your cheek as you feel a pink flush cover your face, faintly remembering your roommate saving you a few semesters ago when her mom was grilling you about picking a more practical and useful major.

“she can do whatever she wants, mom,” eunbi eventually snapped, “whether she does business or photography or even liberal arts is none of your business.”

“no,” you mutter out, dropping your gaze to look over the intricate pattern on the table. “i thought about it but it wasn’t something i wanted.”

“so you didn’t want something practical? or useful?” she asks, using those two words yet again while cocking her head to the side with a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

“a business degree would’ve been great, y/n. everyone always has connections to somewhere, you could’ve found a job right out of college.”

you bite back the urge to tell her no. that not everyone has connections to multi billion dollar companies or numbers of ceos in their phones or the ceo of a tech company as their next door neighbors.

but instead, the same way eunbi defended you against her mother, seonghwa does against his wife. gives you a soft, sympathetic side eye before placing his larger hand on his wife’s.

“there are tons of jobs in photography too, honey,” seonghwa says, his voice so warm and soft and welcoming compared to hers even despite the slight edge in it.

“and she can travel to build her portfolio. it’s a fantastic opportunity to explore the world and make money. is there a particular type of photography you’d wanna do?”

you feel yourself relax slightly, a small smile on your face as you nod your head toward the striking couple.

“i would love to be a wedding photographer actually,” you mumble, a romantic at heart who’s read and watched far too many novels and romcoms.

“taking pictures of all those moments would be really fun, i think. like when the groom sees the bride for the first time or just everyone dancing and having fun. weddings are usually happy and i like to photography happy things.”

“that sounds perfect for you then,” seonghwa smiles, his brown eyes lighting up and making you feel even more at ease.

“i think you’ll do great, y/n. and you only have a semester left, right? maybe you and eunbi you could travel for the summer before you start your jobs.”

you ignore the swish of dread and anxiety in your stomach at the mention of next semester, instead choosing to smile softly and nod your head at the man.

“i think she’d love that,” you giggle out, knowing damn well your roommate already has an extensive list of cities she wants to visit before ‘real life begins.’

“and how do your parents feel about everything?” mrs. park asks, making your stomach twist with even more dread and discomfort. “are they proud?”

you wish you could fold in on yourself right now, swallowing the growing, nervous lump in your throat.

because not only is she making you incredibly uncomfortable right now, with her harsh looks and topic of conversation and snide little tone, she just mentioned the people you haven’t spoken to since you left home at eighteen.

you don’t know what to say, you have the slightest bit of concern you might throw up on her, when the loud, chipper voice of your roommate floats through the cold, silent house.

“i’m back!” her chipper voice yelps, sock-clad feet running through the house and sliding on the marble floor. “what’d you guys make?”

“you’re late, eunbi,” seonghwa mumbles warningly, an innocent smile on her face as she picks up her plate of food and plops down next to you.

“am i? or are you girls just early?”

“i’m not a girl.”

“it’s a figure of speech, father,” eunbi says, smiling playfully at her father before turning to you.

she’s able to tell the second she sees your face that you’re uncomfortable, the pink flush still lingering on your face and the tenseness of your shoulders making her frown.

“i’m sorry you were alone with them,” she whispers, genuine sorrow in her wide, mock-innocent eyes. “i got held up. or... down, rather, but i tried to leave on time. i promise.”

“uh huh, i bet,” you mumble back, fighting back a smile despite your discomfort.

because eunbi has always had something about her that made it impossible to stay mad at her, her carefree, unfiltered way of communicating that made being her friend so easy.

even if, sometimes, you wanted to kill her.

“so mom,” eunbi quips, turning her soft gaze to you before looking over her mother.

“what was with your little group of bitchy housewives today? you couldn’t have had them over any other day? what kind of christmas disgrace is that?”

“eunbi...” seonghwa chastises lowly, the girl with her brow already quirked and eyes narrowed.

“i can do whatever i want in my home, eunbi. are you forgetting how things work around here?”

“how could i, when i’m met with thirty middle-aged women with botox out the ass in my home the second i get back from school?” she asks, “you didn’t think me and y/n would wanna spend the break, like, resting?”

“you ran off to your boyfriend’s the second you got here,” mrs. park bites back, her glass of wine empty as she pinches the bridge of her nose. “left your friend all alone in your room. what did i tell you about leaving... guests unattended in the house?”

the accusation and direction of conversation is quickly making you feel uncomfortable, your head turned down in your lap and leaving your cheeks aflame.

she’s making it sound like you would steal something in her home for christ’s sake, like you’re not a guest who’s dreaded coming here due to this very reason.

you block out the back and forth between eunbi and her mom, a few more seconds of yappy feminine voices before a deeply spoken “enough,” echoes through the dining room.

you even look up at the sound, watching as mr. park’s eyes rest on you. his eyes narrow as he takes in the sight of your red cheeks, his gaze shifting from you to his daughter to his wife beside him.

“y/n’s here for a month and we’re gonna make her feel welcomed the entire time. if you two are gonna fight, don’t do it at the dinner table.”

“but dad, she totally-”

“maybe you should’ve taught your daughter-”

“no more,” seonghwa growls, a sense of finality in his tone that causes the room to go silent.

you can tell your friend is unbothered by the reprimanding, shoveling food into her mouth and sipping from her wine glass completely unbothered.

sometimes you wish you could be more like her, so unfazed by conflict or loud voices or the strained relationship with a parent.

eunbi was always open with you about the rocky relationship with her mother, saying more than once to you that if it weren’t for her father, she would’ve long cut off any contact with her.

she had never really been there for eunbi growing up, having nannies and chefs take care of her for most of her life - it was her nanny of fifteen years who taught her how to walk and talk, was there with her for all the milestones she met through infancy, childhood and even adolescence.

but even then, eunbi was nonchalant and carefree about it.

saying that she’s not gonna waste her time being upset over it when she knows her mom doesn’t think about her at all. it makes your heart hurt for eunbi, grateful that the girl at least has a good relationship with her father and boyfriend.

and you, of course. you consider her your best friend and you know she does the same - even if sometimes, you wanna pull her hair out.

“i’m gonna go the food store tomorrow, eunbi, so if you and y/n want anything, just text it to me.”

“oooh can we come!” she squeals, knocking her arm into yours like an excited kid in a candy store. “we wanna try making our cookies again.”

“you’re gonna bake?” the girl’s father asks, a look of doubt on his face that causes you to bite back a smile.

“no, we’re gonna bake,” she corrects with snark, “y/n measures the ingredients and stirs, i put it in the oven and watch.”

“right, silly me,” the man hums, a smirk pulling at his lips the more he sees his daughter get irritated. “but of course you girls can come,” he says, his eyes flicking to you for just a few seconds too long.

you can only look back with a small smile, a quiet “thank you,” leaving your mouth that you’re positive he doesn’t catch.

(he did).

you help clean your plate off before you and eunbi go up to her room later that night, once her door’s closed and she’s sitting down shooting her a look of disdain.

“i know you’re mad, okay, i’m sorry, i really am!” she whines, holding her arms out for you to come over. “i tried to leave but he wouldn’t let me. he just kept wanting to-”

“i don’t need the details you sick freak!” you yelp, going over and plopping down on her bed. “ugh, it was just... so awkward. your mom hates me. she was utterly perturbed that i didn’t switch my major to business.”

“ugh, she’s a crotchety bitch i swear,” eunbi says, falling onto her back and looking at you with sorrow in her eyes. “i’m sorry, i really am. i won’t leave you alone with her again, i promise.”

you quirk an unconvinced eyebrow her way, eyes full of doubt and distrust before she throws herself on you and squeals that, at least, now you can have a scary movie marathon without any interruptions.

it seems you also probably should’ve made her promise last night that you’d never be alone with her father either; it didn’t even occur to you at the time, not thinking that she’d really ditch you two days in a row.

but alas, jiwoon’s car pulled up when all three of you were walking out of the house to the g-wagon for the trip to the food store, her shooting you an apologetic look and whispered condolences in your ear.

“i’m technically not breaking my promise because my dad’s nice,” she mumbled, the feeling in your body more nervous and aroused than it is angry and upset.

but she could’t know that.

“and when i break your head? then what, eunbi?”

“i love you,” she giggles in your ear, the playful tone of your voice letting her know she got off the hook again. “it’ll be fine. my dad’s a good man. he wouldn’t ever talk shit to you the way my mom does.”

little does she know how much you want her dad to talk shit to you.

talk to you in a way that’s casual and playful and teasing, like the hints of it you’ve seen in the car or in eunbi’s room when you were alone last night. you just want him to look at you with the slightest bit of something, even though it’s wrong.

not only because of his wife, no matter how big a bitch she is, but because of-

“do you still wanna come with me?”

seonghwa’s voice pulls you away from your thoughts, looking to the man dressed in a long, black jacket and expensive loafers. he looks far too fancy and delectable for a trip to the grocery store.

eunbi is long gone by now, her giggles and carefree run down the driveway and into her boyfriend’s car leaving you and mr. park alone, with only the blue sky and crisp air as your witness.

him looking you over hopefully, with a twinge of teasing and longing in his gaze.

you looking at him full of nerves and excitement, biting down on your lip as you nod your head timidly.

“s-sure, if that’s okay,” you say, looking from him to his car just a few feet away. “it’d be better than sitting in eunbi’s room again.”

a handsome smile crosses his face as he nods his head, heart pounding and throat constricting as you watch him walk toward the car.

he walks around the front of a smaller, sleek suv, your own eyes watching in confusion until he opens the passenger side door.

you can only stare blankly, head cocked to the side as you really start to wonder if this man is about to make you drive his car costing more than your life.

“are you getting in, y/n?” he asks, an amused smile pulling at his lips - almost like he’s making fun of your nervous, intimidated disposition.

you shake your head of the confusion, cheeks flushing in the cold december air as you do an awkward jog toward the car. you dip in beside him as your body hits the cool leather, craning your neck to shoot him a small, grateful smile.

your faces are closer than you anticipated, breath catching in your throat as his gaze watches you closely.

he doesn’t say a word or move a muscle, taking a few moments for his eyes to roam your face and body before mumbling to buckle up.

you wish you knew how long the drive to the store would be, as it would slightly settle you and the thick, awkward tension in the air. it appears to be enough time for the heat to go on, warm air blowing from the vents before he asks if you want your seat heater on.

“oh, sure, thank you,” you mumble, a smile quirking on his lips as he presses down on the small circular button.

more silence lingers in the air as the trees outside you pass by, the bright winter sun and blue sky not making it feel like christmas is only a few days away.

you can’t remember the last time the holidays have actually felt like it, though,  all the lonely days blending into one and feeling as if they were the same.

maybe this year, because you’re surrounded by eunbi and her family, it’ll feel less lonely. maybe you’ll actually enjoy yourself and find that you’ve missed out when you denied her invitation each and every-

“i’m sorry about my wife last night.”

those are words you don’t expect so they shock you even more, looking at the older man beside you with a wide-eyed, confused gaze. his dark eyes are expressionless and casual on the road, one hand on the wheel while the other rests beside him.

“i... what do you mean?” you ask, knowing damn well you understand his apology - and given the unamused look he throws you, he knows you’re full of shit too.

“i don’t think she means to judge you so harshly,” he begins, his deep, smooth voice full of sympathy and softness. “it’s not her place to question your education or major, so i just want to apologize for her.”

“that’s not necessary, mr. park,” you insist, shaking your head as a small, breathy chuckle leaves you. “and it’s not like i haven’t heard it before.”

because no one is ever too confident in any of the arts being your main source of income or profession; even your own parents, although it really wouldn’t matter what you would have chosen, haven’t been supportive.

and you especially haven’t missed the looks of pity or distaste when you tell people on campus or at parties in the frat house, future business leaders or stem majors looking at you like just said the sky is hot pink.  

“well that’s just ridiculous,” seonghwa says, ripping you from your thoughts so you can roam over his strong, handsome face. “it’s a great field to work in and something you’re passionate about. that’s what matters most.”

he can tell by the way your cheeks flush that you’re slightly embarrassed and he can’t help but find it endearing, licking over his lips as his mind begins to wander.

wonder about what other parts of you could flush so easily or what else he could say to really make the pinkness deepen.

“i guess,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders as you look at the passing oak trees and mansions.

“and... what you said last night about traveling to build my portfolio,” you begin, shocked by the words continuing to leave your mouth. “that’s something i’ve thought about doing. i think it’d be really fun, regardless if i did wedding photographer or not.”

“yeah?” he asks, the smile on his face causing your head to jump. “i think that’d be good, too. where would you wanna go first?”

your lips purse to the side as you think it over, a love for traveling anywhere you could but having an especially strong pull toward the tropics.

“cancun or the maldives,” you answer, the financial aspect of the trip leaving it most likely impossible for you. “it’ll probably never happen, because i’d have to sell my first born, but i’ve always wanted to go somewhere like that. somewhere tropical and fun.”

seonghwa bites his tongue about his multiple trips there, instead letting out a chuckle that causes butterflies to erupt. his eyes are too drawn to your body in the front seat, legs crossed and arms over your lap politely.

“you never know,” he hums, ripping his gaze away before you catch his gawking. “you might get there one day, after being the best wedding photographer the city has to offer.”

“oh, please,” you glggle out, cheeks flushing despite the absurdity of the comment.

you catch the smile that creeps on his face, the same handsome, carefree smile you saw in the car last time.

you try not to let it get to you, let your brain convince you that maybe he likes hanging out with you alone as much as you like it too.

“i’m serious,” he says, the earnest tone of his voice slipping into dad mode in a way he doesn’t even realize. “your parents must be proud.”

you bite down on your lip as you let out a soft, almost scornful, chuckle, a quietly mumbled “yeah,” leaving your mouth that causes his eyebrows to pull together.

he always thought it was a little suspicious that in the four years eunbi has known you, she’s never told him about your parents; as far as he knows, she’s never even seen them.

“she has her scholarship and stuff so she doesn’t really need them,” his daughter said one day, the two of them discussing why you were spending yet another break alone in the apartment.

“but they don’t want her home for the holidays? you told her she was welcomed, right?”

“ugh, about a thousand times,” his daughter groans in the seat, throwing herself against the window dramatically. “i basically begged her, dad, but she said she didn’t wanna intrude. i’m telling you it’s because mom is the biggest fucking-”

“eunbi...”

“you know it’s true!” she squeals, seonghwa biting his tongue in an effort to be the bigger and better parent. “i don’t even know why you guys got married.”

but that’s what happens with teen pregnancies and rich families. how they were destined to marry anyway, due to their parents companies and stupid business politics.

it was one drunken night at his dad’s company party and a broken condom that sealed his fate with finality - made him go from a single, carefree high school student to a married businessman with a child just two short years later.

his wife was good at one point he likes to think, remembering she was gorgeous and sassy and not like the other girls who would drop to their knees for him.

but marriage and a child and just life quickly caught up with them, already trapped in a loveless, pointless marriage by the time he hit 25.

he’d be lying if he said he didn’t stay for eunbi, that they both didn’t stay for eunbi throughout her childhood and now just grew too used to being an unhappy married couple who live separate lives.  

there was never any reason for them to divorce though, no one serious in his or his wife’s lives and the hassle of money and disputing houses and cars and assets far too draining.

“i don’t believe i’ve ever met them,” seonghwa says, pulling into the store parking lot to see it’s less crowded than he suspected it’d be. “what do they do?”

you couldn’t imagine anything more unbearable than disclosing to your friend’s hot dad who you may or may not have feelings for about the messed up relationship with your parents.

it just screams daddy issues, which might say a lot about your very attraction to him in the first place.

“they run a little restaurant back in my home town. it’s about three hours from campus, which is why i don’t really go home for breaks.”

seonghwa hums lowly, nodding his head as he looks at you at a stop sign.

you’re unnerved by the way his eyes roam you, like he can see signs of you being uncomfortable about your parents and wants to know why - but why would he care? you’re only his daughter’s roommate.

“do you miss seeing them?”

you lick over your lips nervously, watching as his eyes darken every so slightly.

he watches each and every of your movements carefully, so in tune with your reactions and breaths you can just feel yourself getting more and more worked up.

not in the slightest, you wanna say. i’ll probably never see them again and have no qualms about it, mr. park.

“i suppose,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders as you apprehensively meet his gaze.

“you suppose?” he asks, concern etched on his face. “when was the time you’ve seen them? since your freshmen year?”

you avert your gaze as your teeth sink into your bottom lip, in no way wanting to have this discussion at ten a.m. when, much to your pleasure, an impatient car behind beeps at seonghwa’s mercedes.

his dark eyes move to the rearview mirror, narrowed and irritated in a way you can’t help but think is sexy, before he puts his foot off the break and turns into the parking lot.

“i think this person’s leaving,” you mutter when you notice another car go in reverse, seonghwa snatching the spot before the impatient, crotchety lady behind him could steal it.

you can’t help but smirk as seonghwa eyes her when you get out of the car, giving him a look that’s half judgmental and half amused.

“what? she beeped at me.”

“aren’t you supposed to be, like, an adult?”

he rolls his eyes as he takes a cart from the pile, nodding his head for you to go in front and “stop talking back to an elder.”

you can’t help but smirk at his playfulness, taking your spot in the front and pretending as if you always move your hips this much when you walk casually; you would’ve felt embarrassed, had you not turned around a few moments later to see his eyes already on you.

“where to first, mr. park?”

he has to bite back the groan threatening to leave his mouth, reminding himself to keep himself in check this month - starting tomorrow.

“depends, y/n,” he hums, voice far too deep and sultry to be surrounded by innocent bystanders in the grocery store. “what do you want?”

words are caught in your throat and you can only stare dumbly, your plan quickly back firing as he appears to do the same - but it’s gotta be in your head, right?

regardless, it quickly humbles you in the form of a small, unsure shrug.

it’s how you two start walking up and down the aisles, seonghwa putting in what he remembers and items on his mental list while also insisting you put in anything you want.

your arms bump ever so often, softly apologizing and acknowledging it the first few times before you both realize it may be happening on purpose.

you stick close to him when the aisles get tight and crowded, his deep voice telling you to “go ahead,” causing you to swallow shakily. you feel the presence of his hand just a few inches from your hips, lingering and hovering but never fully touching.

it’s finally when you’re in the bread aisle, seonghwa a few feet away talking to the man at the bakery counter, that you decide to put something in the cart.

you would usually never accept someone’s offer to buy you something, already feeling bad about staying with them rent free and eating their meals without compensating.

but the brioche loaf brand is one of your favorites, only sold on occasion at the corner store near campus.

you press up on your tippy toes to grab the bag of bread, stretching your arm up with all your might. the plastic slips through your fingers just as you’re about to snatch it down, letting out an annoyed huff as you pulled down your sweater dress.

you mumble your annoyances before trying again, back on the tips of your toes with your arm raising when you feel a hand on the small of your back.

it’s large and warm and seeping through the thin material of your burgundy dress, a snappy protest about to leave your mouth when you catch mr. park’s face in your peripheral.

there’s a content look on his face as he takes the bag with ease, holding it above your head as his hand moves from your back to your waist with a gentle touch.

you look at him with wide eyes and a pounding heart, his hand on your waist so foreign and strange but... good. something you didn’t even realize you’d been craving until it happened.

the strength and warmth of his hand, though if you think about it just enough, you can feel the weight of his wedding band through the fabric.

“is this what you wanted?”

his voice is deep and low as he speaks to you and you alone, your eyes raising to see him staring down at you. you can’t make out the expression in them, just the darkness in his eyes and the frantic beating of your heart.

you can’t even being to understand the context of his words right now because, yes, this is exactly what you’ve wanted - but he doesn’t know that, right?

“w-what?”

he can’t help the smirk that crosses his face, all sorts of pride and satisfaction and arousal coursing through his veins at your current disposition.

“the bread,” he says, stepping back and holding it out to you. “is this the one you wanted?”

your eyes narrow as you look at him, the smirk on his face, the amusement in his gaze, the playfulness that’s radiating off him - is he fucking with you?

“oh... i... yes,” you finally say, coming to your senses and not allowing yourself to think this way anymore. “that’s the one. i hope it’s okay.”

“of course,” he hums, placing the bread in the cart before going back to the front handles. “you can get anything you want, i already told you that.”

you nod dumbly as you follow beside him, seonghwa picking more things off the shelves and muttering the list to himself as you try to get your shit together.

because yes, you’re attracted to him and yes, you’ve found yourself alone with him for more than two days in a row and yes, there’s been some lingering looks and touches but that doesn’t mean anything.

you can’t let your own deluded thoughts and desires get in the way of reality.

the reality that he’s your friend and roommate’s married father and you’re a college student. he doesn’t want you just as much as you shouldn’t want him so what’s the problem here?

maybe it’s that you’re a 22-year-old woman who’s only been on a handful of dates.

that the last time you made out with someone was when you were drunk and dared to kiss the first guy that walked through the bar (luckily, somewhat attractive and surprisingly polite).

that, maybe, you’re so horribly touch-starved and aching for affection, you’re trying to find it in a hot father figure who’s just as kind as he sexy - and that, you think, is the second most tragic thing here.

because the first would absolutely be thinking that any of this, any of these stares or touches or coincidences of eunbi leaving you two alone, means something.

means that maybe this break is for you two is create an attraction and build some sort of bond and-

“y/n.”

you’re barely able to register seonghwa’s voice before his arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling your body into his taller one and having you pressed up right against him.

you were so lost in thought of him that you didn’t see the older women skirting her cart around the aisle quickly, phone pressed to her ear as she yells to her husband about the christmas ham.

you’re not even sure if she shoots you a look of sorrow or utters any apology, too consumed and distracted by the feeling and proximity of mr. park.

his arm wrapped around you, your body pressed flush up against him, his neck craned down to look at you with a building... something in his eyes. playfulness and teasing but also something darker, something that makes your stomach swoop and renders you unable to move.

“are you always so clumsy and distracted?” he mumbles lowly, his deep voice quiet for only you two to hear - like he knows even in a sea of strangers, he has to keep these interactions quiet.

“what would you do if i wasn’t here to help you, y/n?”

i wouldn’t have been distracted in the first place, you’re tempted to say - but you certainly don’t wanna open that can of worms, especially not in the middle of this grocery store with the way your heart is pounding.

“i... i’m sorry, i was distracted,” you mutter, playing up the damsel in distress just a little bit. “my mistake, mr. park.”

he licks over his lips, swearing his name just being spoken has never effected him like this. he doesn’t even know where this attraction came from, seeing you leave the dorm building yesterday morning and something in his body jumping at the sight of you.

maybe it’s just showing how unhappy he really is with his life, living day to day to just work. hang out with his friends and go to sleep alone - he doesn’t remember the last time his wife touched him, looked at him like she wanted him or made any move to be with him.

he just knows that you showed up, looking so pretty and wide-eyed and coy, and is now about to lose his mind.

“it’s alright,” he says, hoping you don’t hear the thick tension he hears in his own voice, like he’s some idiotic, hormonal young boy. “i think we only have a few more aisles left, anyway.”

he plucks the remaining items off the shelves before you both make your way to the self check-out, him scanning and you bagging because “eunbi says if my career as a photographer fails, i could be the best grocery bagger ever.”

“that’s just because she puts the bread on the bottom,” seonghwa mutters, a smile on your face as you nod your head - she squished one too many of your brioche loafs before you realized bagging just wasn’t for her.

your fingers graze ever so often, the coldness of his tips a stark contrast to your warmer ones.

a particularly big, bulk bag of vegetables proves to be a challenge for you, working through the packed bag with some difficulty. you let out an annoyed groan as you play a dangerous game of tetris, trying not to rip open the brown paper bag.

you finally get the box inside, a little bit prouder than you care to admit, when your precious brioche loaf is dropped right atop. you look up at seonghwa to see him already apologizing, your brow raised as you look at the older man in confusion.

did he think your hand was out? why would he just throw the food at you?

but it’s only when you feel a little more air than normal on your chest that you see what could’ve possibly caused the distraction, the white lace from your bra sticking out.

your cleavage in this dress was hidden for the most part, only becoming a little more obvious when you moved around or packed a shitload of groceries. it makes you bite back a smirk as you put two and two together, looking up to see his eyes still lingering over you.

two can play at this game mr. park.

“mr. park,” you begin, feigning a certain kind of innocence as you place your bread atop the other groceries and finally look up at him. “are you always so clumsy?”

it takes a few seconds for a smile to pull at his lips, the tick in his jaw not going unnoticed to you - so maybe this wasn’t all in your head. maybe he wants you too... possibly.

“you’re funny, y/n,” he mumbles, a smile pulling at your lips as he takes out his black card. “i guess i was distracted, too.”

you swallow the lump in your throat as you feel the slightest hint of arousal run through you, shaking it off and letting out a forced, girlish chuckle.

you pack the car a few minutes later without any lingering eyes or touches, seonghwa telling you about the meals they plan on cooking for christmas.

they usually don’t make their own food for holidays but decided to have a more traditional set up for you and eunbi’s arrival - he also hasn’t cooked a meal for his family in god knows how long.

“that’ll be great, thank you,” you tell him, clicking your seatbelt in as he backs out the spot. “i’m kind of a picky eater but i’ll eat anything you guys provide me.”

“and you have the whole brioche loaf,” seonghwa says, a giggle leaving your mouth as you nod your head.

“true. it’s really good.”

“i’ve never tried, perhaps you’d be willing to-”

his wife’s name popping up on his car dashboard acts as a way to bring you back to reality, brings a certain kind of silence over the both of you for a few seconds.

like he wasn’t just rubbing his body against yours and you weren’t just flirting with him in the form of smirking lips and snarky comments.

you watch a twinge of annoyance behind seonghwa’s eyes, gaze roaming over the screen as if he’s in contemplation before muttering “one second.”

“hello?”

“where are you?” her voice snaps in annoyance, “i told you we had that board meeting at one.”

“and it’s only noon,” his deep voice mumbles, not matching her level of irritation but sounding a whole lot different than a few seconds ago. “me and y/n are coming back now.”

“y/n?” she spats, like it’s a disgusting piece of food she wouldn’t dare put in her mouth. “what about eunbi?”

“she went off with jiwoon before i could get her in the car.”

“so it was only you two?” she asks, the snide judgment and underlying tone in her voice causing your stomach to churn. “did she ask you to buy a bunch of-”

“i’ll be home in twenty and then be on my way over,” he says, cutting her off and hanging up before she can even get another word you.

your stomach churns and a sick feeling comes over you, her utter dislike and disdain for you causing you to bite your lip.

because not only does she not like you to be with her daughter, she doesn’t want you with her husband (although, you suppose, you can’t really blame her for that one).

“i’m sorry about that,” seonghwa winces, the silence lingering between you two heavy. “you could’ve gotten anything you wanted, y/n. this is your christmas too. don’t feel bad about anything, okay?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, your gaze moving to his as he stops at the red light.

your eyes lingering over his and his doing the very same, hand twitching to reach out and move the piece of hair from your slightly flushed face.

and there was something about the way you were both looking at each other, eyes so focused and unwavering and honest, that had you thinking maybe all of this wasn’t in your heads.

but it didn’t mean either of you could act on it - they were just... feelings of lust and wonder and all things forbidden, not seriously believing that a relationship like this could unfold right under the nose of his wife, his daughter and your roommate.

unless the pull was so desperate.

so overwhelming and all-consuming and present between the both of you, little moments couldn’t help but happen.

strike one:

with none other than eunbi as a distraction, the girl promising she wasn’t gonna leave you alone anymore, you were able to take your mind off everything.

the tension-filled, heart pounding moments with mr. park that felt just as wrong as they did right.

you spent a few nights going out with her, jiwoon and all of their high school friends, a surprisingly nice group of young adults who you got along well with.

they were loud and crazy and did far too many shots but they also seemed to be genuinely kind. even the boy who was flirting with you all night, handsome and tall with pretty dark eyes, acted as a good distraction.

grinding up against him as the music pounded throughout the bar, alcohol coursing through your veins allowing you to forget about the older man who’s been living in your head for almost a week now.

“how have i never met you before, y/n?” the boy mumbled lowly in your ear, your head against his shoulder carelessly.

but it was right there in that moment, him saying your name, that the moment was over.

because it just didn’t sound like seonghwa, as delusional as that was.

it didn’t get your heart racing or lips quirking the same way it did when you heard the older man say it. the smile attached to his handsome, mature face and the deep, lowly spoken tone that always held a hint of teasing and sincerity.

“but danny really is so freakin’ nice!” eunbi squeals to you on christmas eve, the two of you in her immaculately white and modern kitchen prepping the chocolate chip cookie cough for tomorrow.

“and you two seemed to be getting along, i saw your ass all up on him.”

“eunbi, that wasn’t me. that was the vodka. i don’t know who that girl was.”

she throws her head back as a loud chuckle leaves her, telling you again that she warned you her snobby, rich little friends have been able to handle their liquor since middle school.

it’s how they cope, she had said, unloved kids with more money than god learning to deal with the world of limitless funds and minimal parental supervision.

“well he hasn’t stopped asking me about you, you know,” she hums, her eyebrows quirked suggestively as she mixes the bowl of ingredients lazily.

“and not just because of your newfound grinding skills, which by the way, are usually learned by the tenth grade.”

your eyes narrow at her comment, throwing a small ball of dough at her that she, impressively, catches in her mouth.

“he really is just, like, so taken by you, y/n. seriously. i told him that you’re graduating this year with a degree in photography and he nearly came in his pants. he loves the artsy girls.”

“you are so vile,” you snort out, shaking your head at the girl sitting criss-crossed on the counter. “and stop saying that. we both know i’m not graduating this year,” you mumble, her face falling pathetically.

“i told you we’re gonna find a way,” she whines lowly, looking at you with all kinds of sympathy and sadness in her eyes - she would offer to pay for you, if she didn’t think you would smack her upside the head.

“oh and what? is my new boyfriend danny gonna do that for me?”

“in exchange for more grinding and a photoshoot, i think. do you want me to try?”

she lets out another giggle despite the way you pinch her leg, peeking inside the bowl with a surprising amount of pride.

"this looks good,” you mumble, swiping your finger to collect some of the chocolate dough.

“hey!” she whines brattily, thrusting a spoon toward your hand just a second too late.  

“why are you whining in here like a child, eunbi?” seonghwa asks, walking through the entryway and the large, white island in the center. “what are you making? please don’t burn the house down.”

“haha dad, you’re so funny,” she mocks sarcastically, jumping down from the counter with her hands on her hips. “where are the baking sheets?”

a simple shrug from her father causes her to roll her eyes, grumbling about how she was really trying to avoid her bitch of a mother today. he holds back his smirk, about to reprimand her before she’s out the kitchen and shouting for her mother upstairs.

it’s only you and seonghwa in the kitchen now, a heavy silence in the air as you stand there dumbly - bowl beside you, cookie dough adorning the top of your finger.

“what are you girls making?” he finally asks, his body moving closer and closer causing you to swallow.

“i... uh, cookie dough. for tomorrow,” you say, lifting your finger and wiggling the tip full of batter. “chocolate chip.”

his eyes move to your finger before grazing over your mouth, his tongue peeking out ever so slightly as he reminds himself to act right.

he hasn’t been alone with you since that day at the food store, just seeing you in passing in the hallways or outside the house as you and eunbi went to and fro.

he hears your giggles at night and tired groans in the morning, quietly yelling at his daughter to wake up and get her ass out of bed.

and he knows it’s probably for the better, that you two don’t find yourselves alone with each other, but he can’t help but feel a rush of excitement right now.

you watch as he moves closer, with the same wide-eyed look you’ve been giving him since he first saw you in your apartment weeks ago.

“ahh, you’re making it from scratch? that’s ambitious.”

“yeah, we googled a recipe,” you tell him, finger still beside you in the air.

you don’t know what causes you to be so bold, maybe him attempting to carry out a normal conversation even though he’s looking at you with so much lust and desire, but you can’t stop once you start.

“how’s it taste?” he asks, his voice deep and slightly strained as he nods his head toward your finger.

you don’t even bat an eye as you slip the tip of your finger in your mouth slowly, swirling your tongue around as you take up all the dough on your skin.

it’s sweeter than you originally thought it’d be but it tastes good nonetheless, keeping your eyes on him as you reamin as innocent and unassuming as possible.

“it’s good,” you say, dropping your finger like you didn’t just make a show of licking and sucking it. “i like it better raw.”

you don’t even realize your words until you see the fleeting look on his face, tongue swiping across his lip and eyes hardening. they roam you so slowly and darkly, you can’t control the growing butterflies and swooping in your lower stomach.

“mm, me too,” he hums lowly, the hardening of his cock in his pants something he hasn’t felt in forever. it’s taking everything in him to control himself, from his eyes popping out of his head to letting out the deepest of growls in the back of his throat.

“do you want some?” you ask, cocking your head to the side questioningly.

he has to desperately hold on to his composure, not think about how easy it’d be to pin you against the cabinet right behind you. take just a few steps closer, have your back against the cold granite and let you feel just how much he wants some.

but he has to play it cool, push down these building desires and ignore your teasing because he’s almost fucking positive that’s what’s happening here.

“want some what?” he asks, his voice lowering just a tad.

he hasn’t played a game like this since college, watching as your eyes widen and brow quirks up.

but he sees that’s exactly what it is when you turn around and face the bowl of cookie dough to him, a smile just as sweet as the cookies on your face.

“cookie dough. before we put them in the oven and possibly burn them.”

the breathy chuckle he lets out leaves your stomach in shambles, his tongue peeking out and poking the inside of his cheek causing a swooping sensation to flood through you.

but before he can even think to say anything, before your eyes can look over his body and make you feel even more warm and bothered, eunbi floats back in and fiddles in the cabinets for the baking sheets.

“that woman is too much, i swear,” she grunts, whipping out the materials quickly before her head snaps to her father. “why are you still here?”

“i wanted some cookies. and to ensure y/n won’t allow you do burn down the kitchen.”

“it was one time, dad, and an accident. how many times do i have to defend myself in this house?”

you let out a giggle as you look from eunbi to seonghwa, your roommate turning her back to set up the practice baking session.

“let’s go bitch! i hope we didn’t fuck this up.”

seonghwa’s eyes roam over you for a few more moments, his tongue swiping across his lips before, finally, leaving the kitchen with his dick hard as a rock.

strike two:

christmas consisted of successful cookies per your and eunbi’s homemade batch, passive aggressive comments from mrs. park about your degree and a whole fuck ton of sexual energy between you and seonghwa.

you could almost always feel when his gaze was boring into you, when you got up to take more mashed potatoes or kept your attention on eunbi as she told her parents about what job she wants to start at next semester.  

it’s also when eunbi almost let it slip about your scholarships, had you not viciously pinched her arm and caused a pained cry to leave her mouth - if you ever thought jiwoon was gonna verbally assault you, it was certainly in that moment.

“why did you pinch me so hard?” she whined later that night, jiwoon passed out on the couch after five too many homemade cookies. “look at my bruise.”

a genuine frown crosses your lips as you look at her arm, rubbing her skin gently as you mumble your soft spoken apologies.

“i’m sorry but i just... i didn’t want your mom to know that,” you say back just as whiney and pathetic. “she already thinks i’m an incompetent idiot. knowing i have to wait a whole year because i’m broke is just too embarrassing.”

it’s an admission that, while eunbi already suspected that, still makes her feel bad - it nearly makes her wanna cry, that you don’t feel welcomed and loved in her home because her mom has to be a judgmental bitch.

“y/n...”

“bi, it’s fine, oh, my god do not cry right now,” you grumble, flicking her in the head lightly.

“i just feel bad,” she cries lowly, moving hrself closer to you and away from her boyfried. “it’s not fair, y/n. you worked so hard and now you have to wait. how could they do this to you?”

a small, touched smile crosses your face at eunbi as you shake your head, dabbing at her watery eyes.

if jiwoon wakes up, he’s literally gonna beat my ass,” you say, smiling when a wet giggle leaves eunbi; you don’t want this time to be sad or upsetting. “i thought he was gonna hit me at dinner.”

“okay if he’s hitting anything, it’s gonna be my-”

“no. no, no, no.”

the snort that leaves her mouth doesn’t help the sinking feeling in her stomach, looking at you with a frown still adorning her face.

“i’m sorry if my mom’s making you feel uncomfortable. she does it to every single person ever and i don’t-”

“it’s fine, please stop apologizing for her,” you say, the sinking reminder in the back of your mind that seonghwa had been doing the very same thing - apologizing for that woman.

“i know she’s stressing you out, too. we’re in it together.”

“that’s true,” she sighs, letting out a long, dramatic groan before resting her head on your shoulder. “i’m so bloated, i don’t think i’m ever gonna be able to eat again.”

and it was funny that, days after the holiday, eunbi was still convinced that she was bloated from christmas dinner.

“babe, i don’t even think that’s possible,” jiwoon consoled her, you and him sitting in her room as she gets ready to go down to the pool.

because, naturally, like everyone in this godforsaken rich town, they get ready to go to the pool that’s inside of their homes; when eunbi told you to pack a bathing suit back at your apartment, you looked at her like she was insane.

until she clarified that her pool is heated and, conveniently, indoors.

“just through the backyard,” she had said - and she truly meant it.

just a few yards away from the main deck area, with floor to ceiling glass windows that showcase the extravagant landscaping and, of course, the outdoor pool and jacuzzi just a few feet away.

“eunbi, this is insane,” you say, marveling at the sight before you.

“don’t you wish you came sooner?” she asks with a wink, your eyes rolling as you place down your towel.

you had the option to bring two bathing suits - a skimpy black one you don’t remember being so scandalous or a red one you remember eunbi insisting you buy last summer.

and you just knew it was because danny was coming, currently showcasing his impressive eight pack that, truly, just doesn’t do it for you - maybe if he was twenty years older, apparently, and somebody’s father and husband.

you shake the thoughts out of your head, walking a few steps toward the pool before eunbi tackles you from behind. you both land with a loud splash, followed by the excited shouts and loud splashes of her other friends.

you’d be lying if you said you could remember the last time you had this much fun, splashing and giggling and acting so carefree despite the many challenges you’ll have to face soon.

but that’s not any of your concern right now, currently sitting atop danny’s shoulders and trying to knock down eunbi in a game of chicken.

“you little bitch! get your nails out of me!”

“coming from the girl who literally just tried to choke me two seconds ago!”

“like it’s your first time being choked!”

and you don’t know whether jiwoon was shocked by you saying that statement or the fact that his girlfriend exposes all of her sexual kinks to you but alas, it did the trick in sealing you a victory.

a smug smile on your face as danny jumps up and down in excitement, your body bouncing and nearly falling over him had you not gripped onto his shoulders.

it’s at that time eunbi pops up from the water, hair a soaking mess and mascara running down her face. she’s about to open her mouth, probably to yell at you, before a volleyball is thrown through the air and just misses her face.

instead, it hits danny square in the head. the boy letting out a yelp before you promptly fall backwards in the water, hearing eunbi’s shrill squeal and giggle on your way down.

you pop up and throw her a dirty look, danny rubbing at the back of his side before apologizing profusely.

“it’s okay,” you giggle out, about to say you shouldn’t have been up there for so long before eunbi’s squealing in the air.

“dad, what the hell kind of aim was that!”

you feel your body stiffen before you quickly shoot around, none another than mr. park standing there looking as handsome as ever.

he puts the young men around you to shame, good-looking, muscular college boys who anyone in their right mind would find attractive - but they just don’t beat him.

his striking eyes or tall, lean stature or the fact that he’s just so fucking-

“got worse with age, bi, what can i say?” he chuckles, extra white fluffy towels in his hold that he places on the chair. “sorry, danny.”

seonghwa’s known danny for a few years now, one of jiwoon’s friends who seems... alright. not a bad guy but also not a good guy - just kind of there; but it didn’t occur to the man just how much he was bothered by him until he saw you on his shoulders.

because he could’ve put you in danger, of course. put you in danger at his house where if things got bad, he’d be responsible; as for the ball, it merely slipped from his finger tips.

“no problem mr. park,” the kid smiles, the other friends gathering around and looking at him expectantly. “we’re gonna play a round of volleyball. you in?”

“no. no dads allowed,” eunbi whines, seonghwa rolling his eyes at his bratty adult daughter.

“why not? because i’m better than all of you, eunbi?”

“oh please,” she grumbles lowly, rolling her eyes and grabbing you to lead you toward the stairs. “you know what, we’re going in the hot tub anyway. since she decided to rock my shit in chicken. enjoy my father traitors,” eunbi grumbles to jiwoon and his friends.

“i did not,” you protest weakly, feeling two pairs of eyes on you as you make your way out of the pool with your friend.

the first thing that strikes seonghwa, apart from the major twitch in his pants, is how skimpy your bikini is.

red bottoms with thin straps holding it up, a matching red top showcasing cleavage and beauty marks on your chest and all the things that are proving to drive him fucking crazy upon seeing you every day.

it’s taking everything in him to control the growing ache in his shorts, your eyes looking at him so coyly and attentively that you’re ignoring the college boy gawking at you right in front of him.

there’s a certain sort of twisted pride in his chest, you giving him attention and seemingly reciprocating his interest, when there’s someone younger right there for you.

younger and unmarried and more suitable for you. someone you can actually be with where it wouldn’t be considered dirty or wrong or secretive; but maybe that’s why you’re both drawn to it in the first place.

that, and because you’re both really hot.

“he’s literally hot, y/n! why don’t you like him?” eunbi whines to you, the two of you sitting across from one another in the hot tub outside.

the december air is crisp but feels nice comapred to the steaming water you’re gratefully submerged in. anything to take you away from mr. park shirtless and wet in the pool right now.

“i do like him, bi,” you mutter, trying your best to convince her and now seem suspicious.

“okay, yeah, as a person but who cares about that!” she whines, flopping her hands dramatically in the water. “you don’t want him to rail you.”

“eunbi!” you squeak, splashing in her direction as a warm, embarrassed blush rises to your cheeks.

“i’m serious y/n. you’ve never been railed before and danny’s such a good option. he’s hot and he’s sweet and he’s so pathetically into you, it’s a little sick.”

you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, shooting her a look that screams can we please not talk about this because you don’t know how much i actually wanna be railed by your father so let’s stop this discussion.

but she only rolls her eyes, moving herself closer to you so she can tug at your arm annoyingly.

“is he just not your type?” she questions, her eyebrows pulling together in confusion for a few moments before utter shock crosses her face.

“wait, what is your type? it’s... men, right? have i been hooking you up with the wrong gender this whole time?” she asks in disbelief, “could we have been hooking up this whole time?”

you press your lips together so you don’t burst out laughing, dryly replying “yes, eunbi, i’m into men.”

but the more you think about it, the more you think maybe you don’t have a type.

“and i’ve... never really thought about it before, to be honest. i just know i’m not into like... frat guys or whatever.”

because any party you’d been to, any douchey college guy wearing a backwards hat or cut off shirt, you had never been more disinterested. you couldn’t ever picture yourself falling for someone like that, romantically or sexually.

the one time you remember thinking someone was hot was when you took film and lit with your 31-year-old professor.

“so older guys?” eunbi concludes after hearing that, a smirk on her face as she raises her eyebrows playfully. “we gotta scope out some golf courses or retirement homes?”

“please,” you scoff, a giggle leaving her mouth as she throws her head back gleefully.

“okay, really though, i’ll tell danny you’re not interested and to stop trying so hard if you’re really not interested.”

but maybe danny as a distraction will be good.

will make you see that, perhaps, someone single and your own age and not your best friend’s father will be good thing for you to explore.

so you shrug lightheartedly, the smirk on your face causing eunbi to let out a low “oooh shit.”

you look over at her and your smile only widens when she knocks your shoulder, saying that you’re looking to be a play girl and drain a rich, lovesick man of some christmas presents.

“yeah, right! why drain a rich man when i can drain my best friend,” you tease, looking around her yard and still in astonishment that this is really her life. “i mean, two pools? is that really necessary?”

“three actually. there’s one behind the guest house on the other side. a small one. very humble.”

“oh, a small one, okay. great.”

she lets out another giggle, the two of you talking over plans for new years eve.

you might go up to jiwoon’s parents house in the mountains for the weekend, spend the time drinking with the small group of friends you’ve come to genuinely like over these past few weeks.

“it’s only two hours away so it won’t be that bad either,” she says, getting up to shake the hot water off her arms. “i’ll be right back, i have to pee.”

you nod your head, grateful she didn’t piss in the pool and allowing yourself to sit there, eyes closed, body relaxed, in the silence.

you can hear the faint screams of the boys from the indoor pool area and the swish of the hot tub filter, peeking open your eyes when, suddenly, you think you hear a boom of thunder in the distance.

you watch the sky darkening and clouds coming in, signaling a storm is coming in soon and quick. a sigh leaves your mouth, enjoying your last few moments of peace before finally standing in the hot tub.

the crisp winter air blows and sends goosebumps up your arms, a shiver running through your body as you attempt to splash some hot water on your upper body.

you don’t know how you know someone’s watching you but you do, some sort of strange intuition within you looking up to see none other than mr. park standing a few feet away from the hot tub.

his dark hair is wet and hanging in his face, swimming trunks soaked and his exposed chest still dripping chlorine water.

you press your lips together as your eyes roam his chest, a hint of abs on his lean stomach that causes a small, strangled groan to leave your mouth - you will never understand how this man is pushing 40.

but the same way you’re looking at him, he’s looking at you.

water covering your body, currently hunched over trying to warm the rest of your body; but it’s when you stand he really starts to gawk, your figure standing full and tall and giving him a perfect view of your hardening nipples from the cold crisp air.

you can see the lust in his eyes the same way you know he can and you’re about to do something to just make him crack. mistakingly untie your bottoms, catching them at the last second so he thinks he’s about to get a peak.

or undo the back of your top and pout at him, ask him to please tie it back for you because it’s way too hard to reach behind and do it yourself.

or maybe you’ll just drop to your knees right there, try to see if there’s any hint of a bulge in his swimming trunk bottoms and-

his body is gone just as fast as he arrived, confusion covering your face before you shake your head of your perverted thoughts - dropping to your knees when his daughter and wife are right here, what the fuck is wrong with you today?

you blame eunbi, all her talk about getting railed when you’ve been wanting to jump her father’s bones.

you carefully make your way out of the hot tub, not wanting to eat shit and scarp your leg on the concrete.

it feels like you’re about to freeze in the cold, another shiver wracking your body before you turn to stick your cold, goosebump-ridden arms back in the hot tub. it warms you for just a few seconds, a low, satisfied hum leaving your mouth before you hear footsteps coming up from behind you.

something in you tells you it’s him again.

whether it be the way your body heats up and feels prickly, the obvious feeling of eyes burning into your exposed back causing you to remain still and oblivious.

but you can longer remain oblivious a few seconds later, when a tall body is just a few inches away from completely pressing against you.

“you forgot a towel,” is all he says, placing it on the wet rim of the hot tub.

when he leans forward to place the white towel down, he’s careful and meticulous with his movements. brushing up against you every so slightly and carefully that you can feel his hard bulge on your ass for a few seconds too long.

at first you think you’re crazy, feeling what you were trying to envision in your head, but then you absolutely know it there’s.

you can feel the wetness from his bathing suit on your legs, his cock right there resting on the thin, red fabric of your bikini bottoms and if you were as weak as you felt inside, if he stayed there just a little bit longer, a moan would’ve absolutely left your mouth.

if you pushed back just a little to feel more of his cock on you, grind your ass his hardness just enough to hear him let out a low groan or maybe curse a little.

but he moves away, almost like he knew the perfect amount of time before that happened and almost like he did it by accident - but when you turn around and see the look in his eyes, you know it wasn’t.

the same way he can see a palpable desire and surprise and tension in your gaze, causing him to suppress a growing smirk. it makes you wanna tease him back in whatever way you can but you know that eunbi’s due back from the bathroom at any moment.

so you only cock your head to the side, lick over your lower lip carefully as you grasp the towel in your hands gently.

“thank you, mr. park,” you say, your voice as airy and sweet as you can possibly make it without sounding like an idiot.

“you’re welcome, y/n,” he says, taking a few steps back as his eyes lock on you. he stays there for a few moments until he hears the door to the pool house open.

you watch his lustful, dark expression change right then and there, a towel wrapping around his lower body and his face stretching into a happy, father-approved look.

“so you’re good with anything for dinner, y/n?” he asks, his voice loud and clear enough for his approaching daughter to hear. “i know you mentioned you were picky.”

“let’s get pizza!” eunbi screeches through the air, telling seonghwa that everyone’s staying over and they’ll need at least four boxes.

but you can’t even think about pizza right now, not when this moment right here is solidifying the crazy thought in your head that your best friend’s dad wants you just as much as you want him.

you called him out later that night around one a.m., after eunbi and jiwoon were the last to pass out to your scary movie marathon.

the others were sprawled out on the basement floor, an intricate array of blankets and pillows on the floor that you attempted to weave through, both, skillfully and quietly.

there was a dryness in your throat that could only be settled by a cold glass of water, making your way through the house quietly and praying you don’t run into mrs. park.

she’s been just as passive aggressive as she usually is in front of people so you could never imagine being alone with her. wondering what the hell she’d say to you without seonghwa and eunbi as buffers.

you were relieved when the lights were off in the kitchen, padding your way to the fridge to take out a bottle of water. you twist and turn the cap off to gulp down the cold liquid in the refrigerator light, a quiet gasp leaving you as your thirst is quenched.

you briefly consider going up to eunbi’s room to sleep tonight, not sure how you feel about being squished in with eunbi and jiwoon cuddling on the couch, when the light suddenly flicks off.

it causes you to freeze and halt all thoughts, fear running through you for all three seconds before you see seonghwa’s tall, familiar figure pass you. you watch him carefully in the dim light of the fridge, his shirtless chest yet again right in front of your face.

leaned back against the counter across from you, giving you a perfect view of his toned chest and gray sweatpants.

“midnight snack?” he asks, the smirk on his face almost causing you to roll your eyes.

instead, your lips quirk into a small smile. raising your water bottle by your head and shaking it, the water swishing in your pounding ears.

“just water,” you respond quietly, matching his low tone. “i hope that’s okay.”

“that you took water? of course, y/n,” he says, amusement in his gaze as he looks you over.

you’re freshly showered and in a pair of pajamas, matching pink sets that eunbi got you for christmas one year - he remembers because he was with her when she bought it.

a soft smile crosses your face, your back getting cold from the open fridge but not daring to move a muscle. not with him looking at you the way he is and with his body just a few feet away from you.

a silence lingers in the kitchen, you not sure why he’s looking at you and him waiting to see if you say something, before he bites the inside of his cheek.

“i wanted to say sorry about before.”

your eyebrow quirks up, interest so clearly peaked as you cock your head to the side.

“what do you mean?”

a smirk crosses his face as he watches you play dumb, head cocked and eyes wide and everything about you with such mock innocence, he thinks that’s what’s driving him the most crazy.

that you do this shit and say certain things with almost complete unawareness and innocence, if it weren’t for the hidden look of desire and teasing in your eyes.

“you know,” is all he says, his voice dipping and eyes twinging darker, it makes your lower stomach swoop.

a part of is positive, even if you ask, he’s not gonna say it aloud.

he’s not gonna say or acknowledge any of this aloud and make you guys play this game until you leave in a few weeks.

and then when you leave, unsure about your next prospects of college or education or even living arrangements, who knows if you’re ever gonna see him again.

so you only hum lowly, closing the fridge behind you and leaving you both in darkness. the only source of light is from the moon outside, lighting up half the kitchen from the large bay window.

it leaves you both incredibly exposed, anyone from the outside able to see the two seemingly innocent bodies standing toe to toe with each other; but they don’t see the lustful looks and eyes full of desire, both of you so entrapped by the other, it’s obvious with the tension in the air.

“oh, well, then... it’s okay, mr. park,” you say with a smile, taking a step back as your eyes roam his chest one last time. “i didn’t mind.”

you’re about to say goodnight when you see his arm reach out, shocked but oh, so ready ready to give into your desire and feel your body crash against his or your lips connect finally.

moan into his mouth and feel more of his hardness against you - but he only takes the water from your hand, presses his mouth against the plastic rim and swigs down a big gulp.

you watch with wide eyes as his adam’s apple bobs in the moonlight, head tipped back and body perched calmly on the counter as he takes a swig of your water bottle, spit exchanged and his mouth right where yours was.

he pulls back with an unreadable expression, licking the excess water from his lips before simply closing the cap, holding out the bottle and smiling at you with the most wise-ass smirk you’ve ever seen, you’re not sure how you’re ever gonna one up this man.

"sweet dreams, y/n.”

strike 3:

your new years weekend get away turned into an extended stay that consisted of sleeping on a lumpy air mattress, five extra guests and so much alcohol, you’re positive you’re still hungover three days later.

“it wasn’t that... we only did a... i mean it wasn’t like we were....” eunbi says, the two of you laying on her bed nursing headaches and body aches to the severest degree.

“okay, it was pretty bad. we were kind of rowdy and out of control.”

“you don’t say?” you grumble, never one to black out and get that shit faced and then doing it nearly every night - maybe to deal with danny’s pathetic soft looks or whispered sweet nothings to you.

“nothing is working either. not advil or water or greasy food. we might’ve fucked ourselves for life, bi.”

but if there’s one thing that always helped for eunbi, it was a nice, long bath. steaming hot water that burned her skin and the prettiest bath bombs to make the entire bathroom smell of strawberries and cream.

so even though you didn’t want to, nothing more comfortable than eunbi’s king size bed and warm, fluffy comforter, you allowed the girl to drag you to the bathroom down the hall to set up ‘your last resort, hangover paradise.’

it consisted of every type of bath bomb and lotion and bubble bath the luxurious could dream of, sending her out immediately when you saw her sneaking in with a glass of champagne.

“are you crazy?” you ask, dipping your toe in the water to test the temperature. “that’s what started this disaster.”

“fine, more for me!” she squeals happily, turning down the lights and pressing the bluetooth button for your phone’s music. “enjoy. i’ll see you in an hour, completely hangover free.”

“we’ll see about that,” you grumble, your words falling on deaf ears as she locks and closes the door to makes her way back to her ensuite.

and as much as you wanna give eunbi shit for her pompous tactics and techniques for everything in life, you have to say that this is certainly helping.

soaking in the steaming hot water, with cucumbers on your eyes and quiet music playing through the ceiling speakers. the jets in the tub also added another layer of relaxation to it, healing your sore muscles from days of waking up on a hard, wooden floor.

the mirrors were steamed and the room was boiling by the time you got out, stepping on the fuzzy bath mat and drying yourself off with a towel. you had tried not to get your hair wet but it proved useless, your relaxed body sinking further and further down until nearly your whole head was wet.

you stretch your arms above your head as you let out a content groan, feeling the best you’ve felt in three days and ready to take a nap.

but it’s at that moment, looking around the large steaming bathroom, that you realized you didn’t bring a change of clothes in. meaning you’ll know have to walk done the hall and into eunbi’s room in just a towel.

it’s fairly late, almost 11:30, so you’re hoping that her parents are in their rooms and fast asleep by now.

you peak your head out, feeling like a spy in a cheesy action movie as you look up and down the hall. you turn off the light once the coast is clear, walking quietly but quickly down to eunbi’s room - or wing, as it could be considered

you’re almost out of the gate, just a few more steps until you round the corner down eunbi’s hallway, when seonghwa’s tall figure is coming right up the stairs.

his head is down as he looks at his phone, still in his dress shirt and tie from his long day at work. you noticed that after the holidays, he’s been around the house less - working from home when he can but also needing to go into the office more often than not.

he’s at the top of the stairs when he finally notices your figure watching him, wrapped in a towel with a flush on your cheeks and your wet hair dripping on the floor.

it seems to be the thing to break him right now, not able to tear his eyes away or think of any fun, flirty comments to keep you from suppressing the need to roll your eyes.

because his days have been long and stressful and the only thing he needs right now is to just get off - and then there you are like something his prayers have answered, standing there quiet and awestruck at the sight of his loose tie and messy black hair he’s been running his hands through all day.

“h-hi, mr. park,” your quiet voice says, sweet and soft-spoken and utterly apologetic, like you’re embarrassed to be caught in just your towel - and he supposes that would make sense, to feel embarrassed about getting caught like this your friend’s father.

but he can’t find it in himself to care right now, two seconds away from dragging you down to his office so he can finally fuck you over his desk - but he knows that would be the worst decision in the world, for countless reasons.

“hi, y/n,” he grumbles back just as low, leant against the railing with a voice that sounds defeated and gruff.

“are you okay?” you ask, something about his voice and demeanor off.

he has to hold back a strangled laugh, his lips quirking up before he bites down on his lip.

“i’m... i’m fine, thanks. work’s just busy,” he says, a certain part of his chest warming at the fact you even asked - he knows his wife won’t when he walks in their bedroom in a few minutes.

“oh, okay,” you respond, twirling with the end of your towel nervously. “well... i’m sorry to hear that.”

he allows himself to let out a chuckle this time, shaking his head as he looks over your bare, wet face; you’re too pretty for your own good, he’s not even sure you realize just how pretty you are.

just how much he really wants you and just how much he’s coming to like seeing you in his house everyday.

“it’s alright, that’s why you gotta do something you love, right?” he quips, his long fingers up to recreate a camera, pressing down as if to snap a photo.

it cause you to let out a soft, genuine giggle, nodding your head and easing the slight embarrassment of him catching you in a towel.

“right,” you say with a smile, shy smiles and gazes shared until you finally look away in fear of your cheeks warming again.

but it doesn’t stop him from admiring the view of you, your bare face and exposed chest before the towel covers up all the parts he wants to so desperately explore.

he pictures dropping your towel and hearing it fall to the floor with a plop, take in the sight of your perky boobs and hard nipples in the air.

drop his mouth just a little bit to your neck, pressing small kisses against your skin as his fingers knead your nipples, all the quiet moans and breaths to make sure you two don’t get caught shooting right to his cock.

he probably wouldn’t be able to control himself, sliding a finger into you right then and there in the middle of the hallway, pressing your back against the wall to have you trapped against his larger body.

he’d pump his finger in and out of you slowly and tauntingly, hearing how wet you are and feeling how tight you are. it’d be similiar to how this past month has just been both of you taunting and teasing and beating around the bush, occasionally letting his fingers curl to his your g-spot or graze your sensitive clit.

and then he’d drop to his knees to taste you. make sure he sucks and licks and takes your clit in his warm mouth that you’re-

“i should get back to eunbi,” you finally say, breaking the silence and ripping him from his dirty, hidden fantasies. you can’t take the lust and desire in his eyes that you see when he looks at you, an painful ache building between your legs more and more.

“goodnight, mr. park.”

you nearly run into eunbi’s room and slam the door had you not seen her sleeping form, passed out right there in the middle of her bed wearing a baby pink robe.

you look beside her to see an extra one laid out, a silky lilac one that causes a small smile to cross your face.

you’ve never felt material like this on your skin, basking in the feeling of the smooth, silky material as you clean up her room quietly - both to tidy up and distract you from the ache in your legs and last encounter with her father.

for eunbi growing up with housekeepers and nannies her whole life, it always surprised you how clean and tidy your roommate was; the sink was never full of dishes and you alternated vacuuming the living room carpet.

but it’s obvious all of that is a facade because since the moment she got home, her messy ways have shown through - you find it endearing, though, and it’s all very eunbi: a homey, lived in mess of luxurious items and articles of clothing worth more than your childhood home.

the girl in question had moved to the right side in her sleep as you cleaned, a quiet chuckle leaving your mouth. you look to see both your water bottles are empty, deciding on the brave decision to go downstairs to grab two new ones.

the last time you’d done that, you thought for sure mr. park was gonna jump your bones - and you know you were gonna let him.

your mind is littered with memories of that night as you make your way through the dark house of twists and turns, carefully going down the stairs as you walk toward the kitchen.

there’s a room with beautiful double doors on your left, a room you’ve walked past hundreds of times throughout your stay here. eunbi told you it was her dad’s first floor office, where he usually worked and had his meetings from home.

the first thing you notice from down the hall is that the door is slightly cracked open, a peak in from the dimly lit kitchen showcasing some fancy decor of a globe.

as you make your way closer and closer, your ears are met with a quiet, strangled groan that causes you to stop in your tracks; your mind begins to race with a million different scenarios of what you could be walking past right now.

your first thought is that you’re about to see mr. and mrs. park in a very compromising position over his desk - and, as sick as it sounds, as delusional and crazy and absurd as it sounds, that prospect makes your stomach sink and twist painfully.

but that would be normal, you suppose; they’re a fucking married couple after all and seonghwa had seemed stressed from work. obviously he was gonna ask his wife to help calm him down and relax him.

get all of his stress out in the form of-

you shake your head before you can even think about it, forcing your feet to move past the office doors.

and it’s like you can’t even stop yourself from peeking in, confirming to see if your thoughts are correct and you’re about to be gutted, when you take in the sight before you.

seonghwa still in his loose tie and white dress shirt, pants around his ankles and his head thrown back in his office chair as his own hand jerks his cock off.

everything about it is dirty and wrong and you know you shouldn’t be looking in but you can’t stop.

you can’t stop watching the way his hand works around his cock expertly, long and thick and so fucking nice it nearly makes you drool. the thought of you on your knees before him, taking him in your mouth and licking and sucking around the tip, making you bite back a moan.

you can’t stop your eyes from looking at his face, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut with his neck on display - perfect for you to bite and give hickies, if you were on top straddling him.

you can’t stop the painful ache and wetness seeping in your thong as you watch him get off, his groans and grunts and heavy breaths making you wanna whine out in arousal.

and it’s that suppression right there, getting so worked up and horny over the sight of your peeping tina activities, that cause you to pull yourself away.

because as much as you don’t want to and as much as you wanna help him, you can’t.

you can only scramble into the kitchen and get water as fast and quiet as humanly possible, scurrying past the office and up the stairs with the stealthiness of a lion.

you can only lay in bed with the thoughts of your roommate’s father and the noises he makes, the sight of his cock and the hand movements replaying over and over in your mind.

and you realize that night, with only a few more days until you both have to leave for the spring semester, you can only hope to never see mr. park again.

let this flirtation and fascination and utterly screwed up infatuation with your roommate’s dad be nothing but a dirty memory you’ll keep to yourself for the rest of your life.

because if it’s not, if you have to see him again and have him in your daily life again, you won’t be able to hold yourself back.

your lust will turn deeper and you’ll find yourself in a much bigger issue than damp underwear and secret, forbidden moments with mr. park seonghwa.

you should’ve known with only two days left of your stay that eunbi was gonna let the news slip.

you were at least grateful for the fact that mrs. park had a charity ball with her clan of “botox getting, bitchy sounding gold diggers who need to desperately get laid,” successfully riding her of your last friday night dinner.

“so you girls don’t want a new apartment then?” seonghwa asked, glass of wine in his hand as he looks at the two of you questioningly. “that building’s looking for a new owner, eunbi, i think it’d be perfect for you both.”

“dad don’t be ridiculous, we can’t own the building!” eunbi says, swatting her dad playfully as she shovels a piece of food in her mouth. she’s casual and comfortable without her mom’s prying eyes and biting tone, her foot resting on the white fabric beneath her.

“and besides, i might be alone in there soon. we still don’t know if y/n is gonna be starting her-”

you kick the girl under the table roughly, her face pulling into a wince as a cry leaves her mouth.

“ow, y/n! what the he-”

but it’s upon seeing your white face and annoyed expression that she realizes what she said, her mouth falling open and silent as she looks at you apologetically.

“oh shit...”

you can only shoot her a pained, sarcastic smile, daringly looking at seonghwa who’s watching the two of you with a curious expression.

“what do you mean?”

silence hangs in the air, you and eunbi sharing side eyes and dejected looks with her dad before he cocks an eyebrow at the both of you.

“girls... what do you mean?” he asks, his voice deeper and more serious, taking on a dad-like tone eunbi isn’t used to hearing from her relaxed, playful father.

and that’s when, before eunbi can open her big mouth any further, you calmly and regretfully explain the situation with your scholarship.

how you got an e-mail a few months ago about alternate funding for the art department and that you were one of the many students who, while keeping up your end of requirements, could not be awarded money.

“it’s awful that they can do that,” seonghwa says, his eyes full of the same sympathy and outrage eunbi’s held - except he knows that this happens all the time. that it’s unfair and sick and a big ploy in the education system that needs incredible reform.

especially when it hurts students like you.

“yeah but it is what it is,” you say, trying your hardest to steer the conversation to literally anything but this (in fear that you’ll scream or start crying or have yet another anxiety attack).

“i can just finish up in the fall, it’s no big deal,” you lie through our teeth, a sad smile on your face as you look at eunbi. “i’m just sorry it messes up our combined graduation party.”

a frown crosses eunbi’s face as she smacks you in the arm, pulling you closer to her just so she could cuddle herself into your arm.

“i will wait for you,” she proclaims dramatically, a pout on her lips and starry-eyed look in her gaze. “i will wait as long as i have to. if they delay it any further, father, you will simply have to sue the school.”

“father, huh?” seonghwa hums lowly, his lips quirking into a smirk.

father is the term eunbi uses when she wants to use him and his money, whether it be blackmailing unfair teachers or shitty students or calling for him when her and her mom are fighting.

“yes, father,” she says, looking to you with a sweet, apologetic smile on her face.

“i’m serious, y/n. we got your back,” she quips with a wink, a pained smile on your face that she knows means you can’t wait to let her have it when you two are alone.

“you had one job, eunbi, and you were doing so good,” you say in her room later that night, pacing back and forth as she sits on her bed like a scolded child. “literally two nights left and you let it slip out!”

“i’m sorry, okay!” she whines for the ninth time, a pout on her face as she plays with fingers; you wanna roll your eyes seeing it, knowing for a fact that’s something she does when she’s in trouble with jiwoon.

“i didn’t mean to, it just slipped out!” she begins to defend, “and it was only my dad! he wouldn’t dare say a bad word about you, y/n, he loves you.”

you ignore the twinge in your chest when you hear her say those words, feeling a tad guilty at the bodily reaction you have about her own father. how much you’re hiding from her and that you have these suppressed feelings and secret moments in the first place.

“loves me or not, bad word or not, it’s still embarrassing, eunbi,” you say, a frown on your lips as you start to hear the situation aloud. 

“i still can’t pay for my tuition and have to wait almost a whole year to take a degree in fucking photography. like how embarrassing is that, all of this just for me never find a job and live in a box.”

you’ve only seen a flash of anger on eunbi’s face a few times in your life, the incident with the dorm girls and her dad and when a sorority girl tried to kiss jiwoon at the bar.

and you see it right now, her small but mighty frame jumping off the bed and lunging toward you quickly.

“are you kidding me!” she squeals, smacking you in the arm and pushing you down on the bed.

“what the hell do you mean a degree in fucking photography? or living in a box? you’re gonna be the best photographer in the world and shoot every event in my life and charge me quadruple the amount!”

a smile pulls at your lips as you hear her go on and on, hype you up and build up your confidence and tell you to never talk that way about yourself again. how there’s nothing embarrassing about not being able to afford thousands of dollars when you were alerted about the expense on such short notice.

“okay, okay, i know that,” you eventually give in, letting out a sigh as you flop down on her bed. “it’s just.... stressful. i can’t move back home but i also need to get like, a real job. a job that’s gonna pay well so i can save up as much as possible.”

“and we’ll find you that when we get back,” she says, assuring with a confident look in her eye and her hands in yours. “i can promise you, with or without my father’s connections, we’re getting you a job.”

her words prove to reassure you for the remainder of the night, when, after she kisses your ass a little more, asks if she can go to jiwoon’s for a little.

you spent that time in her room looking at nearby job offerings and building up your resume and cover letters, working well into the night hours with a text from jiwoon that she fell asleep and will be back in the morning.

you stretch your arms above your head with a quiet groan, noting it’s almost one o’clock and you’re fucking parched yet again.

it’s no surprise to you when the lights in the kitchen are on, dimly light and no noise around as you pad your way to the fridge.

you almost expect the footsteps that come in a few moments later, when you take a sip from your water and close the fridge without hesitation.

“have you told your parents about tuition?”

you’re confused by the statement that leaves seonghwa’s mouth, brows pulled together and a sinking feeling in your stomach at this conversation again - because as if tuition wasn’t enough, he just had to bring up your parents.

but you don’t wanna beat around the bush any longer; you two seem to do that enough.

“me and my parents don’t talk,” you say, straight forward and quiet as you look right at him.

it’s the first time he sees you look a little broken and defeated, a certain kind of sadness shining behind your eyes that makes him wanna pull him into you. it feels like a protective instinct he’s used to, caring for the people in his life and not wanting to see them struggle.

“they wouldn’t help me anyway.”

this protective instinct feels a little different in this moment, something else tugging in his chest that he hasn’t felt in a very long time - not until he started seeing you more.

“but it’d be a shame if you didn’t finish, y/n. you got so far and you’ve done so well for yourself.”

you smile a little at the praise, tongue rolling over your lips in a way he certainly doesn’t miss - but this moment isn’t about that. it’s not something he cares even a little bit about right now.

“thank you, mr. park, but i am gonna finish,” you say with finality, the confident and sure tone making a strange sort of pride swell inside of him.

“i just have to save up money and i’ll start in the fall. it’s really not that big of a deal,” you tell him with a smile, taking a few steps back so you don’t feel too crowded by him.

“eunbi’s gonna help me look for jobs when i get back,” you say, a teasing smile pulling at your lips as you look at him. “a big girl job. something real and hard, that’s gonna make me super stressed and agitated.”

so much so that i have to get off at the thought of you.

a deep chuckle bubbles out of him that you match with ease, the two of you sharing small smiles and quiet giggles in the middle of this spotless, white kitchen.

“can’t do what you love quite yet, i guess,” seonghwa says, his eyes roaming your face so slowly and carefully, it makes you a tad bit nervous.

you hadn’t realized how natural and easy this conversation was between you two, like you were talking to someone you’d known your whole life opposed to someone you’ve barely known for four years.

his hand itches to reach up and touch your hair, tuck the soft, silky looking strand behind your ear and watch your cheeks heat up when your skin touches; but instead, he smiles down at you, inching closer until he’s just looming over you and staring down at you with a soft, undetectable look in his eye.

“but it’ll be worth it in the end, i think. it’s just gonna... take some time.”

you lick over our lips, throat and mouth suddenly so incredibly dry, as you nod your head.

“yeah, i think so, too,” you say, your lips smushing together nervously before you open your mouth to speak again - this could be one of the last times you’re alone with him.

“thank you for letting me stay with you guys, mr. park. it’s been... really nice spending time with people for the holidays.”

he feels his heart twinge in his chest again, his eyes falling down to your lips and swearing he’s never wanted to kiss someone so bad in his life.  

“of course, y/n, it’s been a pleasure,” he says, a smile quirking at his lips with a hint of something you just can’t quite make out. “maybe we’ll see each other again soon.”

it was five days before classes started that you got the confirmation e-mail - a message confirming your tuition for the spring semester was paid in full and your current balance was $0.

you had to look over the message for three whole hours making sure you had read the e-mail correctly, even going as far to call the bursar office to make sure they had the correct address.

but they had confirmed with surety that your balance was paid off, urging you to quickly sign up for the classes you need before the day was over.

“okay, you will never believe what interview i was able to score for you,” eunbi says the moment she walks in the apartment, shopping bags up her arm and gucci sunglasses perched atop her head.

“i’ll admit, the vibe was a little off with the coworkers but i think it’d be a great opportunity to-” her eyes catch your laptop screen on the school website, a list of classes and times on your screen that causes her eyes to widen.

“oh?” she squeals, running over and throwing herself down on the couch beside you. “what the heck are you doing? are you... did you...?”

the lie came way too quick and easy to you, excitedly blabbering out that there was a change in the system and your scholarship was approved - “i think they felt bad that i was a graduating senior,” you said, eunbi’s face pulled into the happiest smile you’ve ever seen.

she clapped and danced and bounced around in excitement, proclaiming you guys just had to go out and get drinks to celebrate the fact that your surprise party was back on.

but you could only sit there with your thoughts and suspicions and this overwhelming feeling deep within your stomach that, while eunbi definitely doesn’t know, her father might’ve just paid your college tuition in full.

(part 2)

tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich @baekhvuns @marksflvr @bunbaebae @markleeyeosang @inkigayeo @nlost21 @hyunjeansuniverse @cherryeonii @songsoomin @reeateez @biaswreckingfics @yunhoiseyecandy @sophrosyneeeee @uglychildd @happycandynoelle @seolarjk @liqhtiny @maedesculpaeusoubi @revehosh @svt-mangos @hcwurld @ateezappreciation @sanisms​ @khjssss​ @yixing-jaehyun​ @yeosangs-left-ass-cheek​

couldn’t tag: @ateez-after-dark @arkive78 

[jeonbunnie]

like you a latte

pairing: reader x yoongi

summary: your friend brings you to a cafe to help you relax during midterm season, but you can’t help but focus on a certain blonde barista

genre: fluff, angst if you squint; college!au; coffeeshop!au; pg13

soundtrack: blind— role model

content/warnings: mutual pining; idiots to lovers; swearing; POV shift

a/n: this is for @ficscafe’s fic exchange event written for @bonvoyagenoona​. I am so sorry this took me so long to get to you. I never forgot you! life just got overwhelming for a bit and I wasn’t in the best mindset to write so I waited till I could write something with my heart in it. thank you for waiting so patiently, I really hope you like it! ♡ I also want to thank lovely valerie @eerieedits​ for this beautiful banner. (this is not beta’d.)

word count: 4.4k 

♪ I’ve never seen something quite like you…♪

“Jieun, when you said you’d take me out to get my mind off things, this wasn’t exactly what I imagined. . . ”

Your best friend rolled her eyes and grabbed your arm, tugging you inside the building. “Well you didn’t really give much to work with, you know. It’s a Monday morning and all you want to do is study! Where else could we go but a cafe?”

“But did it have to be here?”

“What’s wrong with here? This is one of the nicest cafes on campus.”

“This is not a cafe, this is a madhouse,” you said looking around. Silver Spoon was your university's version of an indie coffee shop. The decor lived up to its pretentious name with its glossy wood floors,​​ marble tabletops, and colorful velvet chairs.  Coupled with the natural lighting and an endless array of potted greenery it looked like an influencer’s dream, so of course, it attracted a lot of attention. It was also the only coffee shop on campus open 24 hours which meant everyone with a caffeine addiction and their grandma came here.

“I can't believe you’re making me stand in this line.” Behind you, people were already out the door and winding around the corner. “By the time we get our drinks, I could have driven home and made myself a cup of coffee.”

“I don’t mind the wait, it gives me time to check out all the snacks and I’m not talking about the food,” said Jieun, making eyes at the pick-up counter.

Silver spoon was also known for having the hottest baristas. You followed her line of vision, eyes falling on a blonde lining up to-go cups. A crowd of girls surrounded him, all of them admiring him as he worked the espresso machine. When he reached out to hand off a drink to a girl in the back she actually squealed. You didn’t miss the slight smirk on his lips from that reaction.

“He’s so hot,” whined Jieun.

“Helloooo?” You snapped your finger to get her attention on the growing gap between you and the others waiting. “Focus, I’m trying to get a latte before I die.”

Jieun made a face at you before stepping up in line. “You’re so grumpy. This test is really stressing you out, huh?”

“Yeah,” You sighed. “It shouldn’t be this hard to find one textbook! And I almost had it today but someone checked it out like 5 minutes before I got there.”

You’ve been trying to get this book all semester. Every time you try to get your hands on it—it’s gone. Except for today. Today you checked online and the book was finally in stock, so you threw on clothes, rushed out of your dorm, and not thirty minutes later you were at the library requesting the key to your survival for finals. But all your hope vanished the minute the Liberian looked up at you with pity in her eyes and said: “I’m sorry, all copies of this book have been checked out.”

“Did you bite the librarian’s head off too?”

“I’m sorry,” You said, leaning your head on Jieun's shoulder. “I'm just stressed out. I’m gonna fail the test tomorrow cuz I don’t know what to study, and then I’m gonna fail the class cuz it’s midterms and it’ll tank my grade, and then my GPA will drop and—”

“Sweetie, you need to relax.” Jieun patted your head. “Enjoy the view,” she said waving her hand towards the barista like she was a gameshow girl highlighting a prize.

You laughed her off. “Ugh, I can’t even think about boys right now, my future is in jeopardy.”

“You don't think he’s hot?”

You lifted your head and looked over at the barista again. You were closer to the register now so you could get a better look. You would have been anxious having to crank out orders so fast, but he moved with a confidence and smooth pace that was kinda sexy. And much as you hated to admit it, you weren't unaffected by that smirk.

“Everyone in this place is hot,” you said.

A girl in front turned around and popped into your conversation “I know right? Have you seen the manager? Those dimples! He is so dreamy. ”

“I guess no one’s here to actually get coffee, huh?” you joked.

You turned away from her and briefly caught eyes with the barista. There was the barest hint of amusement on his face like he heard you and thought this place was just as ridiculous as you did. You smiled on instinct, then quickly looked away, feeling shy holding his gaze.

Jieun nudged your shoulder and raised her eyebrows. “What just happened?”

Immediately you shut her down. “Uh, uh. Don’t start.” You’d been hesitant to get back into dating ever since your last relationship, if you could even call it that. You made this first move, which backfired when it turned out the guy you fell hard for wasn’t all that into you. He broke things off after a month, saying he felt nothing when he kissed you and shattered your heart into a million pieces.

“But—”

“Oh look, someone’s getting up, you should go grab our seats,” you said, pointing at a group leaving in a desperate attempt to divert her attention. You weren’t really up for your friends' pep talk.

She was onto your trick immediately, folding her arms over her chest. “I’m only going over there because I want that spot, but don't think I don't know you’re changing the subject.”

Jieun reached into her purse and pulled out her card. “Tell you what, my treat. Get me a cappuccino and get yourself a pastry, or maybe barista hottie’s number, you could use both!”

You went to swat at her but Jieun just laughed and dodged your hand on her way out of line. Now that you were closer to the register, you couldn’t deny that he was attractive. The monochrome black look was working for you, but you could already tell that man was trouble in a flannel shirt.

All eyes were on him. Everyone cooed as he worked the espresso machine. Ok, the lattes weren't that nice. But even you had to admit his presence was alluring. Especially since he hardly seemed to care that he was a star attraction. And with a face that pretty, that kind of nonchalance could be deadly.

Jieun would be disappointed when you returned without his number, but better safe than sorry.

Yoongi hated Mondays. And Wednesdays. Fridays, too. Even a Saturday morning might piss him off if he had to come into work; he didn’t discriminate between workdays.

There’s a special place in hell for the early morning crowd at any college coffee shop. Too many cranky people, not enough coffee. Same boring shift. It was all monotonous by now.

Being a barista at Silver Spoon wasn’t his dream job or anything, but it gave him a little extra cash while he worked towards it; time in the studio wasn’t gonna pay for itself. It was a side hustle, not a lifetime gig, but sometimes those early shifts made him feel bored out of his mind. Even when it did get crazy, Yoongi rarely took note of anyone. Mostly, he just tried to survive, happy to let the morning rush swirl together into a blend of names, orders, and cups, before the inevitable shuffling of feet out the door.

So when you walked in, a fresh new face, Yoongi couldn't help but pay attention. Especially since you stuck out among the crowd. Unlike most of the people who visited the shop, it seemed you didn’t want to be there in the first place. He overheard you complaining in line and chuckled to himself since he could relate—he didn’t wanna be there either, bound by the endless lines.

If he was being honest, he hadn’t felt anything for anyone in a long time. No butterflies, no starry eyes—nothing. His past relationships were with people who were easy to impress, easy to win over, and even easier to walk away from since they’d been more into him than he was into them. Sometimes he wondered if he’d grown numb to it all dating people who never lasted longer than a one-night stand.

But when your eyes locked and you smiled, for the first time in a long time Yoongi felt something. Your smile was blinding and after your humorous comment he knew he’d want more than just a night with you.

Not that it would ever happen. Yoongi only needed one look to know you were completely out of his league and he probably wasn’t even your type.  He squashed the feeling down almost as quickly as it came,

When you approached the register, you began your request for a cappuccino then passed, eyes floating up above as you considered all your options.

You gave him a sheepish smile and Yoongi felt it again. A little nudge in his heart. Something.

Fuck. Maybe he wasn't your type but you sure as hell were his.

“Sorry I don’t mean to hold up the line, I just don’t know what to get.”

“That’s okay, take your time.” Was he playing favorites? Absolutely. Anyone else he might’ve hurried along,  but you could hold up the line forever if that meant he’d get to keep seeing your smile.

After some time you said, “What do you recommend?”

That magic question already earned you some points in his head. Yoongi would never admit it out loud, but when business was slow, he loved to take the time to guess which customer would order what and match someone with a drink.

He didn’t want to overwhelm you especially since he didn’t know what you liked. Something simple, but sweet like you. “The vanilla bean latte is really good with some oat milk.”

“Ooh, that sounds good. Does the oat milk cost extra?”

Yoongi nodded. You bit your lip, thinking about your options and his mind wandered off to thoughts of what it might be like to kiss you.

“Mhm, then that’s okay. I’ll just get the latte with regular milk.”

Yoongi rang you up, then quickly shifted to the other side to make your drink. He could tell you wanted to try his recommendation but changed your mind at the added fee. Still, Yoongi wanted to impress you, so he added the extra ingredient anyway.  

When your order was ready he called out your name and waved you closer, leaning over to whisper in your ear. “Don’t tell anyone but I gave you oat milk, let me know if you like it.”

His boss Jin would get on his ass for doing something like that if he caught him but it was worth it to see the smile spread across your face. When he handed you your drinks, your hands touched for just the briefest of moments.

Your eyes flickered away, and you sputtered out a thank you before leaving the pick-up line but Yoongi couldn’t move after you touched. There it was again.

A spark. A flame. Something.

This time he couldn’t ignore it. He didn’t believe in love at first sight or any of that bullshit still, there was something about you that drew him in.  You were out of his league, too good for him, sure. But after feeling that—Yoongi wasn’t gonna stop himself from at least trying.  

“Soooo how’d it go with barista hottie?”

You recapped the whole exchange to Jieun the moment you sat down. Despite your best efforts to ignore your growing attraction, hearing the deep timbre of his voice call out your name nearly made your knees buckle. And when his cat-like eyes met yours, and your hands touched, something electric passed through your fingertips. Flustered, you snatched up your latte, made a beeline to your friend, and plopped down on a velvet pink couch.

“I was so embarrassed I immediately dropped eye contact.”

“What did he whisper to you?”

“Oh, you saw that?” You feigned innocence even as you could feel yourself get heated. You were still trying to overcome the sensation of his smokey voice in your ear. “Um, he did me a favor and added oat milk to my latte even though it cost extra. ”

You thought it was really sweet that he didn’t charge you for your drink. Maybe you were wrong judging his appearance; he seemed like a sweetheart in disguise?

“Did you a favor,” said Jieun, making air quotes with her fingers. “He was flirting with you!”

“You think so?” You really couldn’t tell. Your ex used to flirt with you all the time but you learned how little those pretty words meant.

“I don’t know, I think he was just being nice,” you said, dismissing everything. Sweetheart or not, no way a guy like that could ever really be into you. You probably weren’t his type. Right?

“But guess what?” You said, changing the subject.

“What?”

When you looked away, searching for something, anything to distract you from him—and that was when you saw it. A black spine with gold letters written down the side, almost unrecognizable underneath a sack of coffee beans, but you knew it instantly. The Essence of Psychology.

“He has my book, the one I’ve been looking for? I noticed it on the counter.”

“Oh, my god. The latte. The book, ”said Jieun pointedly.

“Uh, is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“It’s a sign! It’s all a sign. You should ask him out.”

“What? No. I don’t even know him.” Yes, you were into him, but you didn’t have that same confidence as before. It nearly wrecked you being rejected by your last love interest. No way you were asking some stranger out on a whim. “Been there, done that, had my heart broken.”

“Yes! Come on,” said Jieun. “You like him, he obviously likes you; this is your moment! Get over there and ask him on a date.”

“A study date? Really.”

“A study date is lowkey and totally casual. Just what you need to get back out there.”

“I don’t know….”

“Don’t let that jerk ruin your confidence!” said Jieun. “So what if the last guy wasn’t the one? Don’t be afraid to try again.”

You thought about it. Half of you still felt insecure about being vulnerable and putting your feelings out there. But there was also this nagging feeling inside of you. Like you’d regret it if you didn’t at least try.

“You know what—you’re right.”

The study date was pretty casual. And you did really need that book. All you had to do was try.

You could do that, couldn’t you?

“Okay, okay. I’m gonna do it. Before I chicken out.”

You set your drink down, and marched back over to the register, determined to ask him out. You wanted to, you did. But your heart was racing, and he seemed busy with orders, and you just couldn’t move your feet over to where he was. Somehow you found yourself back at the couch, your nerves getting the best of you.

“I couldn’t do it.”

“You’ve been gone for like ten minutes,” said Jieun. “What were you doing?”

“I bought pastries?” You smiled, shoving a brown bag in her lap. “Want a chocolate croissant?”

“Did you even talk to him?”

“No….”

“(Y/n)! Okay well, if you can’t ask him out, at least ask him for the book. The worst thing that can happen is he says no.”

You took a long sip of your creamy latte hoping Jieun wouldn’t press you to do more. When you put the cup back down Jieun quickly snatched it away.

“Hey!”

Jieun held your latte cup just out of your reach. “You can have his latte back after you talk to him.”

“Are you serious?”

“Y/n. I am not letting you spend another night on my couch whining about your nonexistent love life or your GPA. If you want something, sometimes you have to go get it.”

Knowing Jieun, and the look on her face, you truly weren’t getting your drink back until you properly tried. You narrowed your eyes at her but stood up anyway, “I hate you.”

“You can thank me later!” sang Jieun as you walked away, “Preferably at the wedding!”

As much as she got on your nerves, you knew your friend had a point. But that didn’t stop your heart from nearly jumping out of your chest as you walked over. You had to put yourself out there again, you just hoped you didn’t end up embarrassing yourself in the process.

Yoongi slumped back against the worktable, grateful that the morning rush had finally died down. He’d been trying to focus, but he couldn’t stop shooting glances at you and the sweet smile that spread across your face as you sipped on your latte.

He rarely wanted to step out from behind the counter and interact with the customers who visited the shop, but he found himself wanting to talk to you again. So when the crowd began to fade, and he noticed you walked over once more he immediately perked up and slid over to the register.

“Did you like my last suggestion?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound too eager to hear your approval. Was his interest too obvious? But any apprehension he might have had faded when you graced him with another smile.

“Yeah, I did! It was really good, thank you. . .” you drifted off, eyes glancing down to his nametag.  “Yoongi.”

Warmth spread through his body at the sound of you saying his name. There was pride there too, pride in the fact that he had pleased you, knowing the brilliant smile on your face was his doing.

“So I’m guessing you’re back for another recommendation?”

“Actually, I didn’t come up here to order anything this time. . . I noticed that book you have over there?” You said, pointing to the corner where Yoongi stashed his things.

“I-i've been looking for that textbook everywhere. If you're not using it, do you mind if I borrow it?”

Yoongi’s eyes trailed down to the book on his book on the side. “Sorry, I can’t,” he said. Something about the softness of your voice when you asked made it harder to say no to your face.

“I need it. I’ve got this big exam tomorrow and I haven’t started studying yet. I just got it from the library this morning.”

He figured that’d be the end of your conversation and braced himself for the expression on your face to shift from hope to disappointment, but when he looked back up, an odd passing over your face instead.

“It was you. You’re the one who swiped the last book before I could get it this morning!” You laughed, shaking your head a bit. “I’ve been trying to get this book all year. But every time I do, someone beats me to it.”

What were the odds of you being in the same class and meeting him like this? In some kind of strange serendipity? All this time he’d studied alone when he could’ve been studying with you. The interrelation would've felt a lot like fate if his existence wasn't the one thing keeping you from passing midterms.

“My bad,” Yoongi said, tugging on his ear. Suddenly guilt sank into him. If you asked for anything else, he’d give it to you. “I feel like I owe you one.”

“Oh no, don’t feel bad!” You said waving your hands. “Sorry, forget I asked.” You turned on your heels and in that split second, Yoongi could see you walking away forever.

“Wait!” he said, sliding out from behind the counter and before he knew it, he was already by your side and doing the unthinkable.

“Let me make it up to you, maybe we could study together?”

The words sounded strange coming out of his mouth--he’d never asked someone out like this before--but it was too late, he'd already said them. The moment was so out of character but he couldn’t help himself. Somehow he had the feeling that if he let you walk away, he'd never get another chance to ask you out.

For a minute you froze, processing his words and Yoongi was sure that asking you out was the wrong move. Maybe it wasn’t fate and he was the only one feeling the attraction.

“Like. . . a date?”  

Yoongi cringed at the hesitance in your voice. That’s exactly what he wanted. But if you weren’t interested he’d take it all back. “Sorry, was that too forward? You don’t have to if you don’t want to—”

“Yes,” you said, cutting him off.

All the tension he was holding left him in a sigh of relief. “Wait. Really?”

You nodded. “I’ve got classes from one to three? But then I’m free all day.”

“My shift ends at three. Should we meet back here? We could walk over to the library?”

“It’s a date,” you said, soft and shy with that smile that made him feel light all over.

And then he was smiling, too.

When you returned to your seat, you gave Jieun the full play-by-play. How you were too chickenshit to ask him for anything more than a book and the plot twist you never saw coming.

“He asked you out?”

“I know!” At the moment, you couldn’t believe it either. You don’t know how you found the courage to clarify that it was, in fact, a date.

“See,” said Jieun, clasping your hands in yours excitedly. “I told you the book was a sign!”

You were happy of course, but you couldn’t help that nagging voice in the back of your head that said otherwise. “What if I fuck it all up?”

Jieun squeezed your hand. “You’re not gonna fuck it up. The date’s gonna go great, you’ll see.”

Turns out Jieun was partly right, things started pretty great. That afternoon, you swung by the cafe after class, a bundle of nerves, joy, and excitement. Yoongi threw on a leather jacket that made you swoon and clocked out before the two of you headed out to the library. But the more time you spent with him the more you felt yourself become closed off. An hour into the study date and you were starting to think it was a bad idea to meet in a place where you couldn’t talk at a normal distance.

You had to get close, sitting next to him so you could hear him whisper questions in that voice that made your stomach dip. Close, so he could lean in to read from the textbook, cheek so near to yours you could feel the heat radiating off him. The final nail in the coffin was when you saw him cradle his face in his palm taking notes, looking handsome as ever.

You couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t think straight. The proximity and the intimacy of it all were getting you. Even worse, you kept wondering if he was as hyper-aware of you as you were of him. You couldn’t hold a conversation. All you could do was pull away, refocus, and try to act normal. It was a relief when the two of you decided to take a break and walk outside.

Yoongi broke the silence first. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you said, even though you were nervous to hear what he might ask.

“Is everything okay?”

“Y-yeah? Why do you ask?”

“It’s just. . . you’ve been so quiet, and it seems like every time I try to get close to you, you pull away.”

“I’m sorry,” You said. You sat down on a bench outside the library as the sun started to paint the sky orangey-pink. “I’m not good at this.”

“This?” said Yoongi.

“Dating. I'm sure you noticed, but I’m not the best at socializing. I always psych myself out.” Mostly I just spend a lot of time wondering if I’m saying or doing the right things and I end up not being myself. And by then I can never tell if the person I’m with really likes me, you know?”

Yoongi was quiet. He just looked at you, taking everything you said all in. You felt yourself flush at the intensity of his gaze. “I said too much just now, didn’t I? I do that when I’m nervous.”

“I get it.”

“You do?”

“I’m not that good at dating either. You're the first person I’ve asked out in a long time.”

You laughed. “I don’t believe that. You had a swarm of girls crowding around you this morning and they just weren’t there to pick up their orders. You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better, you can be honest—”

“It’s the truth. I’m not someone who usually initiates. But seeing you today, I wanted to.”

Your head turned towards him.“Really?”

Yoongi nodded. “Mhm.”

Hearing that for once, your feelings were reciprocated, your pulse sped up. The urge to smile was so strong that you covered your mouth with your hand, trying to hide your excitement.

Slowly, Yoongi reached over and pulled your hand away. “Don’t hide it. . .”

Yoongi got close, giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted to, but you didn’t. You leaned into his touch when he cupped your cheek in his hand, thumb brushing against the side of your face when he said: “Your smile was the highlight of my day.”

Just like that—you wanted to kiss him. Your eyes flicked down to his pink lips. You could kiss him, all you had to do was close the gap. Fear told you that this promise of romance would end up like the last. That he’d kiss you and feel nothing and your heart would break again.

But you didn’t let that fear win.

Heart pounding, you leaned in till his lips touched yours. It wasn’t like the last time. It was so much more. Kissing Yoongi felt like kissing someone for the first time. Only better. It had never felt more right. And when he pulled you closer, tilting his head to deepen the kiss and you feel that same chemistry from your first touch lighting you up on the inside.

After the kiss Yoongi stayed close and pressed his forehead to yours. When you opened your eyes to see him smiling from ear to ear—there wasn’t any doubt in your mind—and you knew he felt it, too.

“I like you,” said Yoongi, slightly out of breath. “I know we just met but, I do. And I’d like to keep talking and getting to know you—if that’s okay with you.”

You gave him your best smile. “I’d like that a lot.”

[ka-tamingoftheshrew-ba]

A quick little cheat sheet for people writing Daredevil fanfic: by a law student

Okay, so I’ve been in my daredevil renaissance era and thus have been reading a lot of daredevil fanfic as of late. However, the the fault of nobody at all, I’ve noticed some common inaccuracies about law school and the practice of law and thought I would throw together a little guide so you don’t have to do any research on some of the basics! Also, you don’t have to use this if you don’t want to, I just wanted to make a little guide for those who wish to incorporate these elements into their works !!

1. Law school in the states is enrolled in after completing a bachelor’s degree!

Okay so this one might seem obvious to people who live in America, but I know the study of law isn’t universal so I thought I would break it down. To enroll in law school, you must complete at least a bachelor’s level degree. These are four year(traditionally tracked) programs. To go to law school, you do not need to get a certain type of bachelor’s degree, you just have to have one. For example, my bachelor’s degree is in philosophy. Others that are common are Political Science, History, English, and Criminal Justice. However, there is no requirement to get a certain type of bachelors. I know people who studied biology or physics that are not enrolled in law school. Note that pre-law is not a bachelor’s degree but rather is either a minor or a concentration. I, for example, have an undergraduate minor in pre-law.

2. Law school is a three year program but can be completed in two years on an AJD (accelerated Jurisprudence Doctorate track).

Again, this might seem like common sense to people who live in America, but it isn’t the same everywhere in the world. To enroll in a JD program you need to achieve a certain GPA in undergrad and achieve a certain grade on the LSAT. The years are referred to as 1L, 2L, and 3L. The LSAT is a test comprised of Logical Reasoning (Arguments), Analytical Reasoning (Logic Games- don’t be fooled these games are NOT fun), Reading Comprehension, and a Writing Sample (which is not scored). The range of scores you can get is between 120-180.The average score achieved is around 150. The median at Columbia law is 172 (which is RIDICULOUSLY high) as it is ranked #4 in the nation. This means it is a T14 law school right up there with Yale and Harvard.

3. The breakdown of law school courses.

During 1L, you’re taking required courses and are placed into them. You do not get to pick these classes. Here are the 1L classes at Columbia (based off of 2021-22)(note that I do not go to Columbia law and found this on their website):

Fall

- Legal Methods 1- (where you learn how to read cases and write briefs/memos.)

- Legal Practice Workshop 1 (I have no clue what this is lmao we did NOT have this at my school)

- Civil Procedure (you basically learn about how and where to file civil cases, standing, venue, as well as the rules to brining a case in civil court)

- a pairing of one of these (whatever you don’t take in the fall you take in the sprint)

Contracts & Property,

Contracts & Torts,

Constitutional Law & Torts,

Constitutional Law & Propery

Spring:

- Legal Methods II

- Legal Practice Workshop II

- Foundation Year Moot Court (basically oral argument class I would assume)

- Criminal Law

- Combo if the Courses from Fall that you did not take in Fall

- A L1 elective

4. Internships.

Most students during the summer will apply for internships to try on different types of law. This both builds their resumes and allows them to shop around and see what type of law they might want to practice. While you can concentrate in certain areas of law, many people find what they want to do through their internships and end up practicing where they can find a job within that interest.

5. Grading.

Law school grades on a curve. While this might seem like a good thing or a bad thing (depending on personal feelings regarding curves) it is required by the schools and sometimes the bar association.

6. Having your JD ≠ practicing law

Okay so this one’s a little less intuitive. To practice law, you need to graduate from law school with a JD AND pass the bar exam. The bar exam is usually taken summer after 3L and is what allows you to practice law. That is all I’m going to say about the bar because it’s currently my #2 stressor (behind figuring out how tf I’m going to pay my rent rn lmao).

7. Misc terms:

Judgment NOT judgement

Counsel not Council

Civil suit- for liability/$$. Plaintiff/Defense. Liable/not liable verdicts.

Criminal suit- for alleged criminal acts . Prosecution(the state)/ Defense. Guilty/not guilty verdicts.

Hearsay- is admissible if it falls under a exception (there are MANY exception to hearsay)

Circumstantial evidence- A big portion of the evidence provided in court. Circumstantial evidence is not bad!!

Preponderance of the evidence- over 50% (burden of proof in most civil cases)

Beyond a reasonable doubt- this chart shows it more than I can explain (used in criminal cases). Prosecutions burden of proof!

8. How lawyers do legal research.

Those books you see in the background of lawyers on tv: for show. Yeah, most lawyers use one of two databases to do legal research. Either WestLaw or LexisNexis (Lexis for short). Most law schools provide students with subscriptions to either one or both of these databases where you can keyword search relevant terms or cases and find what you are looking for. I prefer Lexis but have used both and they pretty much give the same results. Working at a firm means that you are often given access to one or another so you better be comfortable with both!

9. The state courts in New York.

Okay so state court is different from federal court. You learn about where to file in civil procedure your first year of law school. You only file in federal under specific circumstances so it is likely that the case at hand you want to write about will take place in state court. The New York system is especially weird seeing as one of their courts of original jurisdiction (where you would file) is called their Supreme Court. In most states (like Pennsylvania for example, their Supreme Court is the highest court in the state and does not hold original jurisdiction.) This system is so OUTSIDE my personal wheelhouse that I’m going to link a chart that sort of helps but if it doesn’t I’m so sorry.

10. Justice Marshall.

I’ve seen it referenced many times in fic (to the point I’m unsure whether or not it is canon) that Matt’s favorite Supreme Court (of the US) justice is Justice Marshall. I hate to be the bearer of bad news but there are two different Justice Marshalls. From context clues I believe people are referring to Justice Thurgood Marshall and not Chief Justice John Marshall. Thurgood Marshall was a civil rights activist who was on the court between 1967 and 1991. He was also the first African American to be appointed to the SCOTUS. His work prior to the court was fighting Jim Crow laws and was best known prior to being on the court as the litigant who argued to desegregate in Brown v. Board of Education. Chief Justice John Marshall was the fourth Chief Justice on the SCOTUS and held that position from 1801-1835. He is best known for being one of the most influential justices regarding the power the Supreme Court holds by infusing the idea of judicial review into the practice of judges on the court. He, however, was not a great person. While being “opposed” to slavery he did in fact “own” enslaved people for most of his life. He also wrote three very problematic opinions regarding Native Americans while on the bench dubbed the “Marshall Trilogy.” Take with that what you will. Basically Thurgood >>>>>> John by a longshot.

11. The M’Naughten rule.

If this one seems familiar, it’s because it was mentioned in season 2 of daredevil on Netflix regarding the Frank Castle case. It is better known as the insanity defense. Here’s the kicker, though. New York does not use the M’Naughten rule. It’s such a small thing but since 1965 New York uses New York Penal Law 40.15. I am unable to give legal advice in any capacity since I’m in law school but a quick google will dispel what the differences are if you want to get into more depth.

12. Most cases settle.

When we think of the practice of law, we often think about big movie court scenes, the formality of a judge sitting on the bench, a array of different people sitting as jurors assessing the verdict of a case in front of them. And this does happen, but it’s not the norm. No, more often than not a civil case is settled outside of the court room. Most times, someone charged with a crime will take a plea bargain outside of the courtroom, confessing their guilt for a better sentence. A lot of what lawyers do is building the best case for their client and abiding by their wishes regarding whether or not they want to settle/take a plea. Court fees are a reality, and the stress of court is a whole other whirlwind of emotions and stress that a lot of people would rather not go through. A lawyer is there to assist and explain whether a settlement/plea offer is a good or bad thing given the totality of the circumstances. But ultimately, it is the decision of the client to either go forward or to call it before going to court. About only 5% of criminal cases, for example, will go to trial.

13. Lawyers are not infallible.

Take it from someone who is surrounded by people in the legal profession everything day, lawyers are literally just people. They aren’t all knowing, they aren’t perfect, they aren’t all vindictive (although some can be). They joke around, curse, learn new things, and mess up. I’m serious about the cursing thing, people in the legal profession are some of the most foul mouthed people I’ve ever met (myself included). But that’s besides the point, the point I’m really trying to make is that media glamorizes the job and makes lawyers seem either like gods or the devil reincarnate (lol devil haha get it), but in truth they’re really just people. They aren’t perfect but most really are trying.

I think this is all I can think of off of the top of my head atm! I hope this little guide helps anyone who wants to use it :) Like I said, this is a guide meant to help fanfic writers if they want to add in little elements of the legal field! But also this is by no means me saying “you don’t understand the law and it shows and therefore isn’t good writing.” I just thought this would be a fun little thing to put together and something I would appreciate if I didn’t already know this stuff! The legal field is really inaccessible and that’s a tragedy if we’re being honest. Also final note: I am unable yo give legal advice as I am currently enrolled in law school. Nothing here is me giving advice about the law or any real life situations and is only meant to be a guide for fiction writers! Please feel free to ask me about things that might confuse you but please please do not ask for unsolicited advice. I am very liberal with the block button and will block. I’ve put too much money into where I am not to jeapordize my career so please please respect this boundary. That being said, feel free to inquire about jargon or ask for resources on where to find more information. Also NY Lawyers/Law Students you are more versed in practicing in NY than I am so feel free to make amendments/corrections if I’ve messed something up. I hope this helps <3

[forasecondtherewedwon]

An All-American January Christmas

Fandom: Hawkeye Pairing: Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova Rating: T Word Count: 4591

Summary: Kate takes Yelena on the ultimate Christmas adventure: grocery shopping.

“I know your full name. Your GPA. I know your favourite grocery store,” Yelena lists off, grumbling. “I did not expect that last one to become relevant.”

Kate turns and beams back at her, unaffected by her companion’s apparent misery or the strobing line of fluorescents lighting this aisle.

“Aw, come on,” Kate says. “Grocery shopping’s the best! In some ways, it’s the most fun part of the holidays.”

Yelena looks frankly angry that she would make such an assertion, so Kate hastily elaborates: “You get to pick all the food you’re going to feast on. It’s whatever you want. It’s amazing. You should be totally into this.”

“It’s hardly the Empire State Building,” Yelena mumbles. Her forearms are already resting on the shopping cart’s handle, but she lowers her chin onto the back of her hand, moping.

“Yeah, but you’ve been here three weeks now. You’ve done that stuff.”

Kate finds the boxed mac ’n’ cheese they both prefer and shakes it enticingly before dropping it into their cart. Yelena’s expression doesn’t change.

“If you think this is an incredible addition to my sightseeing tour, I must disappoint you.”

“Ah. You won’t be saying that once we get a-cookin’!”

“I don’t cook.”

“Then how do you eat?”

“I order take-out, duh. Or sometimes I kill someone who has just finished preparing their dinner, and I eat that.”

Kate frowns.

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little bit funny,” Yelena says. “Not as funny as you, but hey, I try, you know?”

“You made mac ’n’ cheese,” Kate counters, slightly flustered by the compliment as she leads Yelena to the end of the aisle and around to the next one.

“The instructions are on the box.”

“You added hot sauce though!” She snaps her fingers and points at Yelena, excited by her own airtight argument. “That’s cooking!”

“I am beginning to think you had an upbringing as detached from reality as mine was.”

“Yeah, well.”

Kate pauses, perusing a row of cans. In the brief time she’s know the Black Widow, she’s seen Yelena scrape a pot/plate/bowl clean, grating metal on metal to get the last noodle with a fork, the last puddle of soup with a spoon. She’s seen Yelena get in there with her tongue to lick off whatever was left when cutlery failed her. (Kate had swallowed thickly and felt her brain disappear in a puff of smoke, staring at her dumbly until Yelena had brought her out of it with a defensively snapped, “What? It’s good!”)

She grabs one can—two, in case this dish goes over well.

“I grew up privileged—as my mother loves to remind me—and that always messes you up. Although I think having my family torn apart by an alien invasion left its mark too.”

“Hey,” Yelena says, softer and less snarky than she’s been since they walked through the grocery store’s automatic doors. “Cheers to a fucked-up childhood.”

She takes one of the cans and taps it against the other, still in Kate’s hand. A sideways smile creeps up Kate’s face.

“Cheers to having overdeveloped combat skills while lacking the fundamentals,” she offers in return.

“Ваше здоровье.” Yelena rotates the can in her hand. “What is this, by the way?”

“Cranberries.”

“Cranberries are fruit.”

“Yeah, but we don’t need them to be fruit,” Kate explains, “we need them to be sauce.”

“Can you not make the sauce out of the fruit?”

“Me? Like, personally? I dunno, maybe. I’ve never tried. But the great thing is that canned cranberry sauce not only exists but it exists as a festive norm, present on most Christmas dinner tables.”

Yelena’s face says she’s having her doubts.

“Also,” Kate says, “they’re totally jellified in there; they make a gross sluuuurp noise when they plop out of the can.”

“Ok, that sounds pretty great.”

“Oh, it’s fantastic. You’re gonna love it.”

Kate strides to the end of the aisle, heading for the bakery section. Their cart has an unfortunate wheel that squeals and spins around, and when she doesn’t hear it immediately, she turns back. Yelena’s been dragging her feet since they came in here!

“What’s the deal? I thought you were enjoying this now.”

“You’re making me push the cart,” Yelena pouts.

“Pushing the cart is the most important job,” Kate says soothingly.

“Do not patronize. I am still a deadly assassin.”

There’s a gasp and the two of them turn to watch a young boy slowly back away from the boxed Danishes he was approaching.

Yelena jerks her chin at the kid in acknowledgement and offers an intimidatingly unsmiling, “Hey. Happy holidays.”

The boy flees.

“Yeah,” Yelena explains, “I’m not that good with children. I stopped in at my friend’s house, Ana, and she says her family is so great, you know? Her daughter is so friendly and curious and she is so proud. But when I am there, her daughter is just staring at me, so rude.”

“And what were you doing while she was staring?” Kate asked, trying not to sound too amused.

“Eating a muffin.”

“Just eating a muffin?”

“With a knife.”

A laugh bursts from Kate.

“You ate a muffin with a knife and fork? Cut it up? That’s hilarious!”

“No,” Yelena corrects, “no fork. Just the knife.”

She mimes impaling the muffin. She chews the air around her imaginary knife. To Kate, Yelena looks like a lion chomping on a corncob. She can understand a small child being ever-so-slightly taken aback by that kind of display.

“Oh, so like a total psycho then,” Kate says lightly.

“What?” Yelena whines. “You stab it and pick it up. It’s the easiest way to eat the bottom first and save the crunchy top part for last.”

Kate laughs.

“I guess you’re right.”

“I am right,” she hears Yelena say under her breath.

The cart is still slow to follow, so Kate stops a second time.

“Why are you so bummed about pushing the cart?” she demands.

Yelena’s relaxed mouth tightens and her jaw juts out.

“Just tell me,” Kate pushes.

“I want to sit in it.”

“In the cart?”

“I remember going to get the groceries with my mama sometimes, in the afternoon, before Natasha came home from school. Mama would push and I would… I would ride in the cart,” Yelena finishes defiantly, bracing for criticism, Kate assumes by her posture. “Happy memory.”

“Well, get in then,” Kate invites.

Yelena leans away from her as she takes the cart’s handle.

“What?”

“Get in.”

Kate sees the smile Yelena swiftly suppresses. What a dork. As if Kate cares whether she’s pushing the cart or hopping over the side to sit inside it, crossing her legs to fit. Yelena gathers her braid in her hand so it won’t get caught in the folding child seat. She twists and glances up at Kate, giving her a tough look.

“Still deadly assassin.”

“Of course,” Kate agrees, nodding solemnly. She has to give the cart an extra push to get it rolling now that Yelena’s sitting in it.

“Don’t act like I’m too heavy to push,” Yelena directs.

“All you had to push were cranberries and mac ’n’ cheese.”

“Pushing me is good for you. Leg workout. Good for thighs.”

Kate snorts and wheels them up to the rack of reduced-price baked goods. She starts picking through, shifting boxes of donuts and pies, searching for a suitable loaf.

“Aren’t you rich?” Yelena bluntly inquires, watching Kate choose. “Why are you buying old bread?”

Kate smiles.

“It needs to be stale for the dressing.”

“Dressing?”

“The part you shove inside the turkey. With, like, onions, and celery, and mushrooms, and cranberries sometimes—”

“OH!” Yelena shouts. “The stuffing! Yes, I remember this.”

“It’s also called dressing,” Kate says.

“I would know what you’re talking about if you used right word.”

“Uhhh, both words are used pretty commonly.”

“I am remembering more things all the time. I’m going to be a better American than you so soon.”

“Yeah, alright.” Kate rolls her eyes.

“So soon. Like that.” Yelena snaps her fingers for emphasis.

She can’t see Yelena’s face as they continue to wind their way through the store, but Kate’s very aware of her shopping buddy’s smugness. It’s in her straight back, the square set of her shoulders beneath the furry, brown coat. Yelena’s even gripping both sides of the cart as if she’s the one steering. Kate keeps to herself the fact that Yelena looks more like a toddler hemmed in by a childproof fence. She’s adorable. It’s probably a dangerous thing to think—it’d be a dangerous thing to admit out loud (Yelena might actually kill her)—but she does think it. Yelena is adorable. She’s adorable and she’s coming home with Kate for a January Christmas feast.

It’s hard to tell whether Yelena is aware of how incredibly kind this is; she’s sharp and insightful and she pretends to be rusty and awkward at the friendship thing, but she’s known tremendous loss, which is impossible without knowing tremendous love, and… Kate is thankful, that’s all.

Leaving the Barton Christmas? It was hard. And it wasn’t. As many times as Laura hugged her, or Lila led her outside for target practice, or Cooper challenged her to video games, or Nate tried to teach her to draw (humiliatingly, they’re at basically the same skill level), part of Kate wanted to get out of there. That was for Clint. He deserved a safe, happy family Christmas. Who knew how many of those he’d missed in his risk-riddled lifetime?

She still let herself get talked into staying for New Year’s, but that was it. Before heading home to New York, Kate made peace with the loneliness she’d face. Dad long dead. Mom freshly incarcerated. She’s still working out a wobbly new bond with Jack. (Not to mention struggling to find him the right present—what do you buy the guy who was engaged to your mother, whose arrest was kinda-sorta-maybe your fault, who you almost stabbed in the face on purpose, whose endearingly step-fatherly Christmas-morning text was 80% emojis but still made you tear up?)

She wasn’t expecting to come back to find somebody as hopeful and alone, as wounded and free as she was. She wasn’t expecting Yelena.

And she is really grateful for whatever partial patch-up Clint and Yelena managed (he was stoically tight-lipped about it over Christmas, leading Kate to believe Natasha had a lot to do with their budding truce). It makes her feel so much less guilty about the whole situation of having a major crush on the Black Widow assassin who tried to take out her partner. Seriously. What a load off her mind.

They swing out of the produce section and towards the checkout.

“Maybe they’ll give you free groceries,” Yelena suggests.

“Why would they do that?”

“For being famous.”

Kate laughs uncomfortably.

“I don’t think I’m that recognizable.”

With a little struggling that tests their cart’s unreliable wheel, Yelena repositions herself until she’s sitting facing Kate. The loaf of bread is in her lap. The hand she gestures towards Kate holds a potato.

“You’re wearing purple,” Yelena says. Kate darts a look down at her coordinated sweatsuit, visible under her open coat. “Like, the exact shade of your superhero outfit. With even the same ponytail.”

Kate touches her ponytail self-consciously, but Yelena is merciless.

“You need to be more versatile with your hair. You want people to know who you are? Ok,” she allows with a shrug. “One look for that. Ponytail while doing the arrows and falling out of the buildings. The rest of the time, no ponytail. Otherwise, everyone bothers you, trying to have a chat, trying to get your autograph. Or trying to kill you.” Yelena shrugs again. “Depending on the person.”

“Or both,” Kate says thoughtfully. “There was one Tracksuit Mafia guy…”

She waves off the ending of her own anecdote. Not important. Not as important, anyway, as the way Yelena’s looking at her. Fine, she’s only looking at her like that because Kate is agreeing with what she said, possibly letting herself be mentored in the art of incognito bad-assery and grocery acquisition, but it still makes Kate trip over her own feet and slam the end of the cart into the magazine rack next to the conveyor belt. A tabloid flops onto Yelena’s lap, atop the bread. She studies it for a minute while Kate gives the cashier an apologetic smile for the collision and begins transferring their items onto the belt.

As she’s peeling Yelena’s distracted fingers off the potato, Yelena meets her eye and holds up the magazine to show Kate the cover: a smiling Meghan and Harry.

“How many years do you think before he loses all his hair?” she asks.

Kate’s at a loss for words, but Yelena, as sure of herself as ever, turns and slaps the magazine down beside their groceries.

“I’m getting this too,” she says. “I want to see if they asked him about his hair. My father will be curious. I can text him.”

Maintaining a painful smile for the cashier—whose offended expression says she might be a Prince Harry fan—Kate gets them out of there as fast as she can.

—

Getting Yelena through the front door of the Bishop residence is like getting Lucky to walk in the opposite direction of the scent of pizza (which, in Manhattan, is a recurring problem): it’s hard. There’s a lotta verbal coaxing. In lieu of an encouraging scratch behind the ears or beneath the chin, Kate would like to—god, gettin’ crazy now—weave her fingers between her guest’s, or tug at her jacket’s fluffy lapel.

She’s gonna swoon at the thought, but she can’t swoon, because the grocery bag she’s carrying has the potatoes at the bottom and if she swoons, she’ll probably fall on them and mash them, and they’re not supposed to get mashed until they’re in a pot on the stove.

Kate takes a breath and decides to handle this gently, just to get the damn assassin into her house.

“Uh, Yelena? Kinda hard to have our Christmas feast out here in the hall. I need to turn the oven on for the turkey. And the stove! We need the stove, otherwise we’ll be eating raw potatoes.”

“I’ve eaten much worse,” Yelena says gruffly.

Sighing in exasperation, Kate grimaces. Her arms are getting tired of holding most of the bags.

“Do I need to go back for a shopping cart so I can push you in?!”

Yelena gives her a sideways look that starts out unreadable before softening into something Kate might almost call vulnerable.

“These are not the usual circumstances for me to be entering somebody’s home,” she says.

“Yeah, no murders today, please. It’s just me and Lucky—who’s probably in here sleeping on some expensive piece of my mom’s furniture that he’s definitely not allowed to be on—and I’m pretty attached to both of us.” Kate stands there for a few seconds, subtly rolling her shoulders to ease the strain. “You could break in through an upstairs window, if you want? No no no, don’t do that, I take it back.”

“Still an invitation, Kate Bishop.” Yelena finally smiles at her. Between that and the way she says her name, Kate gets a little shiver. Yelena’s going to think her arms are weak as shit. “You take all the fun out of breaking and entering.”

“My bad. It’s totally safe though,” Kate promises, eyes lifting towards the high ceiling of the entry hall. “I guess it might be hard for you to turn off, but you don’t have to be so on your guard here.”

“Totally safe,” Yelena repeats.

“Yeah. My mom runs a security company, remember? Ran. She ran a security company.”

Yelena stares at her.

“…Which was obviously not very secure,” Kate concedes, smiling sheepishly. “Point taken. But I’m here now!” She beams.

“Oh? Are you going to protect me, Kate Bishop?”

Yelena’s smile is dangerous and Kate is far from unflappable in the face of it.

“Uh, yes? Yes,” she says with more conviction.

“Alright.” Yelena sniffs. “Let’s cook the absolute shit out of this big bird you bought.”

Her dour resolve says she’s ready to slowly roast the turkey over an open pit while the reflected flames dance hellishly in her eyes, so Kate holds her breath as she neatly (mostly) hefts the turkey into the roasting pan and slides it into one of their kitchen’s two spacious ovens, hoping her guest won’t be disappointed. There’s no butchery—no grim, life-stealing stab of the knife Kate got out to chop the potatoes. Yelena doesn’t even fight to get to be the one to sew up the turkey, though she does watch Kate’s fingers while she sews. Miraculously, Kate’s dexterous enough not to stab the thick needle into her hand and focused enough not to sew her hand to a dead bird’s ass, even with Yelena’s intense attention.

“Ok,” she announces brightly, slamming the oven door on their raw and well-buttered friend. “Now we make the rest of it while our pal gets golden and crispy.”

“First wash your hands,” Yelena instructs.

“I was going to.”

“With soap.”

“I know,” Kate insists, pumping her palm full of foam and turning on the faucet with her elbow. “You’re awfully bossy in the kitchen for someone who doesn’t cook.”

Yelena ignores this assessment.

“We need aprons.”

And while Kate’s digging through a low cupboard to look for some, the knees of her purple sweatpants sliding on the tile, Yelena adds, “Cooking is like killing. You don’t want to get all the gunk on your clothes.”

“You…” Kate huffs, standing up and thrusting one of the two aprons she found at Yelena. “…are full of strange wisdom.”

“I know.”

Kate’s already looping the strap of her apron over her head as Yelena unfolds her own, both of them staring at it. Then Kate bursts out laughing.

“That must be Jack’s.”

It’s longer and wider than Kate’s—evidently designed with a larger frame in mind—but the best part, the part that has her eyes tearing, is that the front reads Kiss the Cook in a sassy, swirly script.

“Now that is just mean,” Yelena protests, donning the apron. “Laughing because you think nobody would kiss me.”

Instantly, Kate’s clearing her throat where her laughter gave way to this thick and rubbery feeling. She zips to the mostly-empty grocery bag, stumbling in her sock-feet, and retrieves the potatoes. They roll unevenly across the countertop and she stills them with clammy palms before lurching away.

“I-I don’t think that.”

“Good,” Yelena says firmly. She plucks the knife from the counter. It’s a blur, spinning on her palm, before Yelena’s hand closes confidently around the handle and decisively chops a potato into perfect halves with the blade. “I don’t need to cook fancy things. My mac ’n’ cheese abilities are excellent.”

“They are.”

“It’s very seductive. I could seduce somebody with my mac and cheese from the box. It’s irresistible. They would be so seduced.”

Kate nods, and not just because Yelena has half-turned towards her, gesturing with her very sharp knife. Yelena could seduce somebody with mac and cheese. She did.

The best thing to do, Kate figures, is break the one-sided tension by opening the cranberry sauce and slopping it into a priceless cutglass bowl. It sluuuurps horrifically from the can and Yelena claps and cheers.

“That was disgusting,” she pronounces. “I can’t wait to eat that.”

She bends forward, sniffing carefully at the scarlet jelly. When she tilts her head to check it out from all angles, her braid swings forward. Without thinking, Kate reaches to catch it before Yelena gets food in her hair.

Before she can blink, Yelena’s tight grip is around her wrist. Her expression is a warning—if she still had that coat on, its fur would probably be bristling—but that fades rapidly.

“Reflex,” she says, releasing Kate.

Kate swallows and reaches again for Yelena’s braid, though she’s jerked to stand straight and the food-hair hazard is gone.

“I was just going to…”

Kate finishes explaining by not explaining. In a motion that looks easier than it feels, she brushes Yelena’s braid back over her shoulder.

“There,” she says, exhaling.

For a long minute, Yelena stares back at her. Kate’s eyes start to burn with how much she needs to blink. She can stay strong though—she wasn’t the fifth-grade staring-contest champion for nothing. Then her guest is chopping potatoes again, head bent forward carefully to keep her braid in place.

“Big pieces?” Yelena asks. “Chunks?”

“Yeah. Yeah, uh, not too big, but not… minced or… or anything…” Half of Kate’s brain is dwelling gleefully on the important new information she’s just acquired (what Yelena’s hair feels like) when the other half shifts to the cooking. The potatoes look wrong. Her full brain engages. “Oh shit! We forgot to peel them!”

“Who is ‘we’? ‘We forgot,’” Yelena scoffs, stepping back as Kate edges in to peel the remaining whole potatoes plus the cubes Yelena’s created. “Do I know this instinctually? No. Same way I don’t know you have a specific needle for… for…” She motions to her throat. “…for sew turkey’s neck shut. So rich! So precious about needles! If I had to find a specific neck-sewing needle before I could sew my neck shut, you know what happens? I bleed out. Нет. One needle. Same for hip, same for arm, same for neck.”

Kate pauses and gives Yelena a freaked-out look, eyes wide.

“You’ve really been through it, huh?”

“At least I never had to sew my ass shut, Kate Bishop. Things can always be worse.”

Kate lets out a laugh and Yelena snorts, cracking up with her. Gently, she prods Kate in the ribs, elbowing her aside to take over peeling.

“I know how to peel a potato.”

Kate sighs loudly, throwing up her hands.

“So why didn’t you then?!”

“I thought maybe you like to eat the skin! What am I going to do, ruin your Christmas by taking away your favourite part of the meal? Potato skin?” Another laugh vibrates up Kate’s throat and soon her eyes are blurry with hysterical tears as Yelena goes on, skinning perfect strips off the potatoes all the while. “If I take away all of your potato skins, where will you get your vitamins, Kate Bishop? Hmm? So many irreplaceable health benefits. Maybe you will get very sick and then what for me? I can’t leave when you’re getting scurvy. I can’t have this on my conscience. I am very sensitive.”

Still chuckling, Kate forces out, “How long… so how long are you staying in New York?”

She sees Yelena’s calculating sideways glance and tries to look less curious than she feels. Not too blatantly flippin’ obvious that she wants Yelena to stay. Wants her to want to stay. Kate leans back against the kitchen’s island, drumming her short nails on its side.

Done with the potatoes, Yelena turns, raising her chin as she observes Kate.

“I am still thinking,” she says.

“So you’re not, like, taking off tomorrow or anything.”

“No. Tomorrow is Saturday. It’s much easier to get a flight during the week.”

“Oh, so maybe Monday then.”

Kate’s disappointed and, dammit, she can hear it in her voice. Which means that Yelena can probably spot the fleeting downturn of her mouth. Jeeze, with her honed assassin senses, she can probably smell her disappointment, somewhere under the funk of raw turkey.

Yelena takes a half-step towards her.

“Actually,” she says, “I think the weather is bad here. Not a good time to fly.”

Kate nods.

“Lotta brutal snowstorms in January,” she agrees.

“Maybe I should stay for the rest of the month.” Another tiny step. The space between the counter and the island really isn’t very far. “Leave in February.”

“Y-you could do that,” Kate says, nonchalant. But her hands are sliding up the side of the island to grip the edge.

“I haven’t seen a baseball game yet. I should go to one before I leave America, don’t you think?”

A huffed, surprised laugh leaves Kate.

“Baseball doesn’t start ’til the spring.”

“Then I guess I have to stay until the spring.”

“Where would you stay?”

Yelena glances around the kitchen and back to Kate, smiling meaningfully.

“Well, yeah,” Kate says, “obviously, I would invite you to just stay here, but I don’t wanna ‘take the fun out of breaking and entering.’”

“Thank you.” Yelena glances down at her apron, then up. “And if I stay, I get to wear the apron.”

“Definitely. Every time you cook mac ’n’ cheese.”

“And every time I want you to kiss me and you are having trouble taking the hint.”

Kate’s mouth falls open, but no sound comes out.

“Come over here, Kate Bishop,” Yelena says, voice rough but soft.

Although there’s not a lot of here to come over, Kate pitches forward, cups Yelena’s face in both hands, and bows her head to kiss her. One of Yelena’s hands presses the middle of Kate’s back and the one that settles on her cheek smells like potatoes. The starchiness of the residue feels gross against her skin, but that doesn’t really matter. It’s a grossness to be excited about, like the cranberry sauce, except better.

Kate’s rocking further into Yelena, not wanting this to end now that it’s started, wanting to feel every angle as their heads tilt and their lips nudge and slip, but Yelena pulls back and the kiss ends with the loud, abrupt smack of their mouths separating. Kate blinks.

“Wait wait wait,” Yelena says, twisting and reaching for her back pocket. “Ha!”

She gets her braid off her neck and her bangs out of her eyes with one flick of her head. With a self-congratulatory grin, she presents Kate with a packet of dried meat. Kate squints at it.

“I got you reindeer jerky!” Yelena declares with impatient enthusiasm. “See what a great guest I am? I bring you dessert.”

Kate glances up, expression tight.

“This looks awful,” she says. “And I feel comfortable saying that because you’ve already confirmed it. You said it’s chewy, it’s, uh, tough—”

“Oh, it is the worst.”

Kate’s mouth pulls into an uncontrollable smile.

“I can’t wait. This is an amazing gift.”

“We’ll have it with a strong drink, maybe,” Yelena suggests as Kate tosses the packet onto the island behind her. “Because it is also unbelievably dry.”

“Absolutely. We can swirl our glasses like all my mom’s snotty business associates and gnaw on our jerky.”

“I’ll swirl as long as you don’t have an expensive carpet. I’m not good around expensive carpets. I swear, the liquid just jumps out of the glass.”

“Swirl gently. Little baby swirl.”

Kate motions in the air. Yelena grabs her swirling hand and holds it. With the other, she points to the phrase embroidered across the front of her apron.

“That is handy,” Kate acknowledges, smirking before initiating a second kiss. Just as Yelena’s hand is skimming up the back of her neck, she leans back. “Oh god,” she says, grimacing. “Did my mom and Jack do this?”

“Do not worry about it,” Yelena recommends. She gives Kate’s swaying ponytail a short, playful tug. “Only worry about making me perfect mashed potatoes.”

Kate laughs and rubs her scalp with exaggeration.

“Alright.”

“I’m serious. If they’re no good, I’m leaving.”

Cockily tipping her chin up, Kate smiles.

“Liar.”

[cigarettesandslushies]

destress // jd x stressed!reader

jd helps you destress from studying for midterms 

word count: 1,700 

tw: language, smut, ambiguous gender but was written for a female!reader in mind

requests & questions

Note: Hello! I’m a new writing blog! I am an aspiring writer and thought it would be fun to get in some practice by writing for some of my favorite fandoms. I’ve been wanting to write JD x Reader fics for a while so I’m happy to finally be doing that. Please feel free to send in requests! This is my first-time writing smut so be gentle with me (even if JD isn’t being gentle with you). -Ellie

“Shit, did a fucking tornado hit your room?”

You didn’t acknowledge the intruder that entered through your bedroom window. You didn’t have the time to. With multiple midterms coming up that you weren’t the least bit prepared for, every second from now until then was precious.

“Not even a hello, darling?”

You could tell that a brow of his was quirked, teasing. He very well knew that midterms were next week. Though, compared to you, he couldn’t give less of a shit. How you wish you could do the same.

“JD, not now.” You warned.

He stood, appraising your midterm wrecked room quietly. Notes, textbooks, and wrappers galore decorated various surfaces, from the floor to the bed to your vanity.

He walked, watching each step as he made his way towards you. You were hunched over your desk, nose deep in one of your textbooks. Your highlighter was tapping against the wood of your desk, keeping time with the anxious bounce of your leg.

He was behind you in the next moment, resting his head against yours. He placed his hands on your thighs firmly, slowing your movements. You took a deep breath, setting your book down. Your head titled up, moving his head from yours in order to meet his gaze.

A slight smile tugged at the corner of your lips upon seeing him. God, he was such a better sight than statistics.

“Hello.” You murmured.

He matched your smile, dropping his volume to yours. “See? Now was that so hard?” He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Hello, darling. How are you? Did you miss me?”

You rested your head back against him. Your eyes fluttered closed, enjoying the warmth of his body. “No. Not even a little bit. Statistics has been the best company.”

“Oh, really? I’m going to wager that stats is fucking you pretty hard.” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Maybe even harder than you.”

“Are you challenging me? You know I always win.”

You took a deep breath. The slight smile gone from your face and replaced with a deep frown. Your eyebrows pulled together, your face scrunching to meet the stress headache growing.

“JD, you know on any other day I would want you to win. I can’t.”

“Come on, give me just an hour.”

“Bullshit.” You were quick to reply. Your eyes flew open to stare up at him. “Like we’ve ever gone just an hour. You keep me for multiple hours which I don’t have. I’m already losing sleep as it is. I promise you can keep me up some other night but tonight-“

He stepped back, grabbing the back of your chair, and spinning you to face him. “Darling,” he drawled slowly. “You’re losing it.”

You blinked once, your gaze falling into your lap as you processed his words. Your hands met your head, elbows resting on your knees as you curled up into yourself. “I know.” You spoke into your hands. “God, JD, I’m so fucking stressed. I have so many midterms to study for without enough hours in the day. I can’t fail these. They’re worth so much of my grade. It will ruin my GPA if I get anything less than-”

“Sh, sh…” he crouched, leveling himself with you. “How about we round up your teachers in an abandoned building and blow it up, hm? Would that make this all better?”

You would have laughed if you didn’t know that he was completely serious. This boy would do anything for you. He’s proved that time and time again. “Getting rid of the teachers wouldn’t get rid of the classes themselves. I’d still have to take the midterms eventually.”

“You’d at least get more time.”

“True.” You agreed. Another deep breath and you lifted your head from your hands. “I think it would just be easier for me to study. It would take time and planning to pull it off and anyway, do you want to go through a whole grieve fest at school?”

“It would make for an interesting week.”

“You aren’t funny.”

“No, I’m hilarious.” He took your hands in his, pulling you up from your seat. “Fine, no offing the teachers, but you know the more that you try to cram all that shit in your head, the more it will spill out. Breaks are healthy, recommended even.”

A finger under your chin, a thumb resting below your lip, he brought his face closer to yours. He was close, too close. You smelled his last cigarette and a cherry slushie lingering in his breath.

“Let me help you destress.” He ghosted the words over your lips. How could you ever think that you could deny him? How could you ever think that he wouldn’t get his way?

All it took was a quiet please and his hands were everywhere.

With one swift movement, JD knocked the contents of your desk onto the floor. With another, you were sitting on top of it, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He caught your lips with his, too slow, too gentle.

You didn’t have the patience for his teasing.

You intertwined your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer. You pressed your lips harder against his, showing him your eagerness to have him, just as he wanted.

You could feel him smirk against your lips, his hands moving to undress you from the waist down.

“Well, would you look at that? For someone who didn’t want to even acknowledge me, you sure are eager to have me inside of you.”

You bit back a moan, his words touching you before he even laid a hand between your legs.

Fucking asshole and his way with dirty talk.

“Jason Dean, you’re a pain in my ass.” You replied breathlessly.

A low chuckle followed as you dragged your lips across his jawline in a sporadic series of kisses. You bucked your hips up towards him, a sign for him to hurry the hell up and take you already.

You would have been surprised if he actually took the sign instead of ignoring it and taking another direction.

“Nu uh, darling. I can’t shove my cock in you and fuck you into the desk until the wood chips just yet. With how stressed you are over midterms, I’m not sure if you can handle it. So let me loosen you up first, hm?”

He didn’t wait to slip a finger inside of you, then two, and then three. You leaned back along the desk, your elbows barely keeping you up and steady. He set a rhythm, relishing the sounds that you made for him and him alone. Whimpers, gasps, and moans alike were all tangled with his name.

He felt you were getting close. He could always tell, sometimes before you even knew. You never quite knew how close you were to falling off the edge until he was pulling away from you, leaving you empty and longing for him to fill you again.

Just like he liked it.

“JD,” you breathed shakily. You didn’t realize that your elbows had failed you early on and you were lying completely flat against the desk. You shifted your weight, lifting yourself back up and onto your elbows once more. Your eyes narrowed when you caught his gaze.

“What? Did you not want to cum on my cock after all?” He asked innocently, a contrast to the words that came from his mouth.

“God, I could kill you.”

“There can be only one killer in this relationship, darling.” He drawled, undoing his jeans. He was hard and so ready to fuck you until you couldn’t remember the population versus the sample. He hesitated, almost expecting another retort, another “you’re not funny”, but no. You weren’t going to drag this out any longer. You wanted him now.

You needed him now.

“JD, please. For the love of god, fuck me.”

He didn’t even have to ask for a please. He knew that meant there was nothing else in your head but wanting him to fuck you.

Would there ever come a time that he wouldn’t get exactly what he wanted?

“Only because you asked so nicely.” It only took a single beat, a single thrust before he was inside of you completely, barely giving you a chance to adjust to him. You let yourself fall back onto the desk, crying out his name.

The rhythm he set was faster, rougher. His fingers curled over your shoulders. His hands pushed you down as his hips pushed you up. Every thrust was met with force. He never let you move. He did the moving for you. He was in full control, using your body for his pleasure which just so happened to cause you pleasure.

A perfect match, that’s what he said, and you believed it. He knew exactly where to hit the tip of his cock to make you-

“JD, I’m getting-”

“Mmm, I can feel that. I didn’t think you could get any tighter.”

“JD-”

His lips caught the rest of your whine. His movements were sloppier now, his hands messily tangling themselves in your hair. He was close too.

As he pulled back ever so slightly, he uttered three words. “Cum for me.”

With that, you came undone and he followed closely behind. Screams and moans of ecstasy were muffled against one another’s lips. It took a few moments for the both of you to catch your breath. He waited until your breathing steadied to pull out.

He pressed his lips against your forehead. “There. That should get you through stats.”

You laughed. “It should, but is it going to get me through French?”

“Finish studying for stats and we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Let’s get you cleaned up and while you finish studying, I’ll go get you some real food. No more of this granola shit.”

He began walking towards the bathroom but stopped halfway across your room. He didn’t turn to look at you when he said:

“You’re one of the smartest people I know. I know it’s not much coming from a town full of slaves and blanks but if there’s anyone who can pass these midterms it’s you.”

He continued walking.

[imtheasssniffer]

Rank Romance?

As the first member of your family to go to college. There was a lot of pressure on you. You had known work your entire life, and now was no exception. Your parents hustled, and sent you spare change every month, but that didn’t stop you from having two jobs.

After your first semester of disappointing grades. You realized that the only way to save your gpa was to get a roommate, and relieve yourself of some of the financial burden you were struggling with. That’s where Riley came in. After he moved into the apartment you now shared. You were able to quit one of your jobs and focus more of your time on studies. Riley was, well beautiful. He played on the schools football team, which gave a nice strong build, and an admirable ass.

The first time you met Riley. Was a little awkward, as a timid gay man you usually didn’t talk to the jocks around campus, because it felt a little dangerous. Conversing with Riley was strenuous. You were so unsure of what to say, or feel. But Riley was sweet, for the most part at least. The first day you two hung around the apartment together he said,

“Up high!” Before stretching his arm as vertically as he could, and shoving your face in his pit. At the time you didn’t know how to react, other than to hide the way your dick sprung from the ripe smell of his armpit. He laughed it off, but you thought about it for the next couple of nights. Little did you know this was the sort of behavior you’d grow used to. After weeks of living together you were able to successfully evade any unwanted erections from coming to Riley’s attention. He kept up with his shenanigans. Not flushing the toilet, tea-bagging you, rubbing his musty body on you and even sitting on you once when you were laying on the couch. Not to mention the countless amounts of times he had burped, or farted in your direction, or directly onto your body. It wasn’t all cruel tricks though. To your surprise you two got along well. You and Riley had study sessions together whenever there were tests coming up, and you were both off of work.

Today you two scheduled to study together. You decided to read ahead while waiting for him to get back home from work. You heard the door click open, and Riley walked in. He looked tired, and sweaty. The glistening on his forehead made you bite your lip. You tried not to lust over him, but to live with someone so attractive, and not crave their body was more difficult than not. The way he walked, the way his body stunk up the entire apartment after football practice, the way he was so arrogant yet charming. He was a good friend too, and very understanding. Other than the overall stinky nature of his body, and habits he was a perfect roommate.

As Riley walked it you waved at him, and he smiled back at you.

“These damn exams are killing me man,” he complained as he walked over to his closet You each had a closet. Barely big enough to stand in, but you made do, and put curtains in front of the doors. To provide some privacy in order for you to get dressed.

“Good thing you have such a great study partner,” you joked back sarcastically. Riley laughed a little, and then dissappeared behind the curtain, and after a few moments returned completely naked. You were distracted by your book, but you looked up to the sound of him clearing his throat aggressively. Everything was perfect. A pair of somewhat saggy and full balls hung behind a flaccid yet impressive uncut cock, and a stomach that wasn’t a perfect six pack, but didn’t need to be, because the fat that clung to his bones sat in all the right places. His chest was perky, and muscular further extenuating his big arms and shoulders. Seeing him naked wanted to make you melt into him. You nearly drooled at first sight, but quickly tried to stop before things got weird between the two of you,

“Ew man put some clothes on. I don’t like the way your dick is eyeing me.” You both chuckled, and then Riley responded with,

“What, you don’t like what you see?” He had turned around now. He was playing with his ass. Massaging his cheeks, and allowing his fat to jiggle. You were transfixed, until an all too familiar sound startled you,

PPpPppPFfFfTtTtTt

“Ahh, man I’ve been holding that in all day,” he moaned. Clearly relieved to decompress. In the comfort of his home.

“Great. Can we get to work?” You replied a little annoyed. As much as you wished that fart were ballooning your cheeks, and sliding down your throat. You were genuinely concerned about this test that was coming up. Riley just looked at you and sighed. He moved towards his closet, and just before going in he stopped and pulled his cheeks apart. You stared at his hole. Watching as if almost in slow motion. His hole pulsed, and then slowly,

BBbBBrRRFfTt

The scent was faint, from the distance, but you could tell it was rank. He then stepped into the closet, and got dressed in a pair of briefs, and a pair of tight, short, shorts. When he walked out you eyed him without hesitation. He was looking for his books, and not paying attention to you. After finally finding his study materials, he sat across from you on the other side of your coffee table. You two sat on the floor. It was comfy enough, and provided enough room to spread out all of your materials. Once he settled on the ground you watched as he leaned to one side and,

bbBRrRuUMmpPtt

The fart echoed off the floor. Lasting 5 seconds it was loud, and rancid. It smelt very meaty, and had you been anyone else it probably could’ve cleared you out of the room.

“Sheesh. You’re going to disturb the downstairs neighbors,” you complained jokingly. Riley just laughed and said,

“Bonus points of they’re eating.”

“Ew,” you groaned in response, and tried to get back to the task at hand when again,

ppRrRFfFtTTaAaaRrTtT

You looked at Riley fake annoyed.

“What I’m sorry man. I’m really gassy today, and I couldn’t fart at work,” he apologized.

“Whatever,” you quickly grumbled, before continuing with your lesson.

“So when writ-“

PPpHHhlLaArRTttSss

“Is cutting off our limited study time getting you off,” you said getting genuinely annoyed now.

“No, but I could find myself getting off on cutting off your air,” Riley joked menacingly.

“What?” You asked genuinely confused. Riley then stated,

“I mean my ass your face. My farts your air.”

“Don’t even-“ you tried to get up, but before you could even get on your feet. Riley pounced on you. Wrestling you roughly into submission, until he finally got you in position. He was on his knees. Straddling your face with his thighs, and his crotch reaching just over your bottom lip.

“Ok. Riley get off. We get it. You are more physically athle-“

BbbRrRaaPpPTt

He ripped a gnarly 4 second fart that rumbled on your chest and burned your nostrils.

“Riley p-“

ppPFfFRrRtT

“Stop,” you screamed as you slapped his thighs. You could feel his dick growing over your face in his shorts. The smell had gotten so rancid that you started to cough. Choking on the putrid stench of Riley’s rotten bowels that stunk of spoiled meat, and curdled cheese. No doubt the scent of a college jocks ass.

Your dick was painfully erect. Maybe it was from the lightheadedness, or maybe it was from the complete arousal you felt being pinned between his legs stuck to endure his awful farts. All you knew was that there was no way of hiding the boner that resided behind his fat ass.

PhHHRRrfftTt

“Ahh, sniff it. I love to hear you gag.” Riley began to rub his ass and crotch back and forth. Engraining his stink on your face.

“Fuckk,” he moaned as he placed his hole over your nose.

ppPFfRrtT

His airy little toot warmed up your face quite a bit. You began to gag at the intense stench that lingered over your nose. After retching a few times Riley finally stood up. He stood over you with his feet on either side of your shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. That was too far,” Riley apologized. You could clearly see he meant it, but it was sudden, and kind of unexpected. Riley always did stuff like this. Maybe not this intense, but it wasn’t the first time you had choked on one of his farts. You weren’t even mad. You were just trying to find a way to hide your boner.

“Listen. I’ve gotta be honest. I have a huge crush on you, and the only way I knew how to keep it casual between us was to gross you out, but I can’t do it anymore.” You looked up at him shocked. He had a crush on you? You laughed thinking it was a joke, but when he flashed a look of confusion, you realized that he was being serious. Riley smiled anxiously, and started to nervously laugh. Clearly trying to lighten the mood, as he was unsure of what you were feeling, but you felt the same. Beyond physical attraction Riley was respectful, helpful, smarter than you’d imagine, and yes he was sloppy at times, but it was endearing. Unsure of what to do you didn’t speak, but instead you sat up and rubbed his dick, cradling it in your right hand. It was clearly trying to grow erect, but thwarted by the fabric of his briefs and shorts. He looked down at you with a twinkle in his eyes, and that’s when you knew for a fact that it wasn’t some practical joke. He wanted you, and you so desperately craved him. With a swift movement of your left hand you grabbed at his waistband, and began to slowly pull it down. He stuck his thumbs in the back of his shorts, and helped you to pull them over his voluptuous ass. You let go of his dick, and placed your right hand on the waistband. Reaching further back. You gently rubbed his thigh all the way down to his ankle as you pulled his clothes off of him. Feeling the hair on his legs glide against your hands, and watching as his erect penis shot out of his clothes. Once all the way down, he moved to get his shorts and underwear from around his feet, and placed them on the couch behind you. You simply gawked as his manhood swung, almost hypnotically in front of your eyes. He looked down at you. Riley looked so focused. His gaze could cut a diamond. As he stood straight back up. You stared back into his eyes, and all of their intensity. While staring into his eyes. You maneuvered yourself onto your knees, and knelt over to his feet. Lightly sniffing, and then kissing them. You then traced his body with your hands as you made your way up to his dick. Fully erect, you wanted nothing more than to please him, so you did. You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, and began to lick. You heard loud moans come from above you, and you could feel his knees getting weak.

“You know I don’t mind the stink,” you said taking his dick out of your mouth.

“It was kind of hot. I always hid my boner, cause I thought you were straight,” you continued.

“Are you saying my dick stinks?” Riley joked, as he slowly made his way down to his knees.

“Yeah you need to showe-“ Riley didn’t let you finish. He pulled you into a deep kiss. It was slobbery, and wet. You didn’t mind. There was something so attractive about his ability to be as carefree and disgusting, yet make it cute.

Riley pulled away, and looked down at your body. He started to take off your shirt. He was gentle, and sensual. He took his time, and kissed your chest as he pulled the shirt over your face. making his way down your body. He pushed you onto the floor, where you were now laying on your back. With him on top of you. He smiled at you as he made his way down your torso stroking his dick as he inched backwards towards your cunt. With the same carefulness, but more rapid. Riley took off your sweatpants, and underwear.

“You know I never could stand those sweatpants,” he said lightly, smirking at you. He began to stroke his cock again, and he used his now free hand to rub your hole. Spitting on it, and sticking his fingers inside of you. You yelped as he shoved his second, third and then fourth finger in your hole stretching you out.

“Does it hurt,” he mumbled softly. You nodded your head yes, which prompted him to then ask,

“Do you want me to stop?” You shook your head no in response. Of course you didn’t want him to stop. The feeling of his fingers filling your hole, and rubbing your ass was heavenly.

“Can I put my dick inside of you?”

You nodded your head yes, and watched as he slowly moved his member down to your hole. He rubbed it against the outside of your anus. Grinding it up and down. Until he finally slid it in. You both let out a moan, as his dick passed the barrier of your asshole and entered the threshold of your insides. He began to thrust into you. Slowly at first, but he gradually got faster and rougher. You moaned in ecstasy as his pelvis clapped against the bottom of your thighs. Riley laughed as he looked into your eyes. His face was full of happiness. He smiled as he inhaled. Breathing heavy, he held squeezed legs and squinted. Contorting his face in a manner that made you think he was ready to cum, but instead,

bbBlLlSsSPPsStTtssrRrPptT

You came as the fart rang out. The pure stink that Riley had trapped you in as he fucked you was beautiful. It was a loud 10 second fart, and it pushed its way out of his clenched ass. Riley laughed hysterically, which was replaced momentarily by ooh’s and moans.

“Fuckk.” You felt his body tense as he came inside of you.

“Fuuuckkk.” You felt him pull out, his cum followed, and oozed out of your anus. Riley took large breaths, nearly gasping for air.

“They don’t teach you breath control?” You teased. He just replied with a smile, and laid down on top of you.

You could feel his warm sweat melt into your skin, as the two of you embraced on the floor with him on top of you. He was kind of heavy, but you didn’t mind. You found his weight comforting. Not to mention the fact that you were trapped in his musk. His body smelled so manly, and ripe. It wasn’t the last time you two came that night, and it wasn’t the last study date to go rogue