#like... why are her dad and boyfriend questioning her judgement too?

[cerealbishh]

"I'm just still worried about my dad. He was out all night again."

"Well, you know... Maybe the man is enjoying his personal life. Privately."

"Mm. I wish that were it but... I don't know. The- the late hours, the lack of transparency..."

[hiraethwrote]

there's a lightness in him

summary: finally, the day has come where you get the chance to meet gojo. but megumi doesn't handle it as well as you had hoped

[ loner!megumi x popular!reader ]

cw: college au, modern au, f!reader, fluff, gojo cameo, some angst, aged up characters, no use of y/n

word count: 2.9k

You really wanted to meet Gojo.

For reasons unknown to you, Megumi became even more quiet than usual whenever he was brought up — nearly blatantly refusing to talk about him at all.

Your curiosity was obviously peaked — who was this mysterious individual, who through unfortunate circumstances had ended up basically raising what had turned out to be your perfect boyfriend? Was this where Megumi had gotten his closed off demeanour from? Were shared dinners around the dining table spent in utter silence?

The few things you had gathered about Gojo: he was NOT Megumi’s dad. That was the most important thing you’d learned. Because how dumb were you when you simply assumed the adult man he lived with was his father?

You had also learned that there was a new level to Megumi’s frown that always grew deeper whenever he talked to Gojo on the phone. Granted, he was never happy whenever he was on the phone, but it was something entirely different when he talked to his… guardian?

“What do you mean you haven’t met his family?!” Kasumi exclaimed in pure disbelief once you told her, head tilting up from her doomscrolling.

“As far as I understand, there isn’t much family to meet. It’s mostly just this Gojo figure.”

“And that’s his dad?”

“God no, he’ll bite your head off if you assume so, but whoever he is, he’s the closest thing he has to a parental figure.”

She tried to blink away the worst of her surprise. “But you’ve been together since high school.” It seemed like she wanted the statement to be a question, but it definitely came out more as a judgemental remark.

“Look, his family situation isn’t ideal,” you trailed off, thinking about the few things he had actually opened up to you about — both his sister and his absent father, and you had quickly understood family was a fragile topic for him. So whenever you dared approach the situation about Gojo, you just wanted to be cautious in case there was anything serious he just did not want to talk about.

However, lately, the idea of anything seriously worrisome being the issue had slowly ceased to exist. Megumi genuinely only seemed to be annoyed with whatever it was Gojo said or did — nothing graver than that.

“Does that mean you’ve never been to his house?” Yet another shocked question fired at you.

“No, I’ve been to his house plenty of times,” you chuckled. “It just so happens that Gojo is never home. He’s apparently sent out of town a lot for work.”

She quirked an eyebrow, shaking her head and turning her attention back to her phone. “Your boyfriend is kind of a weirdo, not gonna lie.”

A small, smitten smile automatically grew on your lips. “Yeah, I guess he is,” you said, probably mostly to yourself.

“I have to go now.”

“What, already?” You whined, bottom lip sticking out in a dramatic pout as Megumi got up from his seat beside you. He met your pleading gaze, leaning forward to capture your lips in a tender kiss to ease his departure.

“It’s probably gonna take a while today,” he sighed, walking over to the door. Before his hand had even managed to clasp around the handle, you were already at his side, staring at him with doe eyes while your arms were tucked behind your back — like you always did when you wanted something.

“Then why don’t I come along?” batting your eyelashes at him.

Whatever your ulterior motive was, he was weak for the look you gave him — sucking in his cheeks to smother the smirk you were slowly pulling from him.

“You wanna come along?”

“I wanna be with you as much as possible!”

“You gonna help with errands, too?”

Your innocent smile was pushed into pursed lips instead. “I can watch?”

He instantly let out a taunting scoff. “Cute,” he sighed, placing a quick kiss on your cheek and opening the door to leave. Before he got too far, you already grabbed ahold of his wrist.

“So, you’re going home for these errands, right?”

And once you said ‘home’, Megumi immediately understood why you had suddenly decided to be so persistent in tagging along for his duties, when you always preferred he just get it over with so he could return to you once he was done.

And his body slowly started to tense up, because unlike you, Megumi really did not want you to meet Gojo.

Why? Well, Megumi could list hundreds of reasons why he wanted to shield you from the menace he had lived with most his life. But he knew those reasons were all superficial, and he never really dared put into words what really plagued him about the situation.

“Megumi,” you spoke his name softly, slowly letting go of his wrist. “I want to meet your family.”

There it was again, your genuine interest in him — somehow always catching him off guard despite you proving it to him from the very first moment. He just didn’t feel deserving of it.

It was written all over your features just how important this was to you — guilt striking him as he couldn’t understand why he had been so selfish as to deprive you of meeting his family, when he had no real reason to.

But what wasn’t he willing to do for you? With a clear of his throat, he tried to set aside his ever present anxiety about the situation, grumbling a low “fine” as he pulled out his phone to send a quick heads up to Gojo.

“Wait, really?” The fragile sentiment in your voice was replaced by an airy relief, not quite expecting him to surrender so easily — especially considering how long you’d bothered him about it all.

“Has to happen eventually, right? Might as well get it over with.”

The nonchalant shrug of his shoulders and the look in his eyes was all it took for you to feel your stomach tickle with butterflies — you saw he was trying to power through his stubbornness for you. He wasn't going to let his own struggles triumph how important this was for you.

“You’re just so-“ endless giddiness spilling over in your expression, unable to finish your sentence. You cupped his face and placed the sweetest kiss on his cheek, before you rather abruptly interrupted your own actions by yanking him after you towards his car.

For the entirety of the ride, you held a mostly one sided conversation, hoping your casual talk would calm him down — but it didn’t stop his knuckles from slowly turning paler when his fingers gnawed at the steering wheel, hoping you didn’t catch how his teeth were grinding against each other.

But he wanted to try — for you.

Pulling into the driveway, surrounded by the familiar scenery of the neighbourhood he grew up in, none of his nerves seemed to disintegrate. Even when he opened the door for you (like he always did) and you laced your fingers with his, the nerves remained knotted inside him.

“If you really don’t want to do this-“

“No, ‘s fine,” he interrupted you softly, reactively squeezing your hand to ground himself. “Let’s just get-“

A blaring voice shouting your name cut through the sad tension, both you and Megumi jumping at the sudden outburst.

Capturing your wide eyed glare, you were met with a freakishly tall man staring directly at you with the most intense blue-eyed stare one could imagine and untamed hair of the purest white — and lastly, a somewhat off putting grin that was overflowing with outgoing charm.

This was Gojo? The Gojo? The very same who had raised your stoic and quiet boyfriend? The one who seemed to have too much pent up energy in his body, despite the size of it? This was not at all what you had expected.

You were about to take a polite bow to introduce yourself, but Gojo simply waved his hand. “No need for formalities. Feel like I know you already.” His smile never wavered, even when he took a step back to let you in.

Megumi was already grumbling to himself, unable to stop how his fingers clenched harder on your hand as a reaction to Gojo’s first appearance — and heat was rising up his neck, slowly colouring the tips of his ears red with embarrassment.

“So glad you finally managed to convince him,” Gojo nearly sung, leading all three of you into the kitchen. “I’ve tried desperately since that day he first visited you. But Megumi never listens to me.”

He was so far from the character you had created in your mind, taking some time let the new impression replace the old one. He leaned so casually against the kitchen counter, while Megumi acted on instinct and pulled out the stool for you, taking a seat next to you.

“I couldn’t quite believe my eyes when he came back home that evening, and he smiled. You know how hard I try to make him smile?”

“Oh, it’s not so hard,” you laughed along, turning to look at your boyfriend only to see he was looking at Gojo with chronically furrowed eyebrows. The lump in your stomach formed immediately, hating just how displeased Megumi appeared to be — reaching out to grab his hand under the table, head turning to look at you, smoothing the crinkles on his forehead. You started to believe he wasn’t even aware of the way he was looking at Gojo, because all evidence of annoyance was gone when he shifted his eyes towards you. “He smiles plenty.”

“Hmpf,” Gojo pouted, arms crossing loosely over his chest. “Well, maybe you just share the same bad sense of humor.” The comment caught you a little by surprise before the genuine laugh slipped past your lips, while Megumi went back to shooting him an ugly scowl.

“I’ve been wanting to meet you too for a while.”

“Is that so?” His tone sounded accusatory as he met Megumi’s eyes. It didn’t take a genius to understand the subtext that Megumi had served him excuse after excuse on why he’d never introduced you.

“Yes, but my schedule is crazy busy,” the lie rolling of your tongue so easily, Megumi almost believing it himself. “Something always came up whenever we tried to make it happen.” It was a small gesture, yet Megumi’s heart fluttered lightly at how you tried to make this as comfortable as possible for him.

“I’m very pleased you finally got the time,” he beamed, seemingly buying into the lie.

And then the conversation flowed as smoothly as butter. He asked questions about your studies and your family, showing a real interest in your life. And he was funny — the clutching-your-stomach type of funny. You didn’t even notice when Kuro and Shiro walked into the kitchen, Shiro lightly nudging your hand for pets before both of the dogs laid down by Megumi’s feet.

But the conversation consisted mostly of your and Gojo’s voice, Megumi only contributing with a weak “hm” or “sure” whenever fitting, which definitely put a thorn in the atmosphere of the company.

“How about we get around to those errands?” You suggested, bringing an end to the constant rambling you knew Megumi had probably prayed would stop.

“Yeah, we probably should,” he mumbled lowly, quickly jumping out of the seat he had been glued to since you arrived. “I just have to get something upstairs-“

“Just go,” you giggled, knowing he was about to ask if you were alright with being left alone for a second.

Megumi hurried away, leaving you and Gojo alone. It didn’t take long before he broke the silence again.

“He’s not usually this cold towards me.” His tone had completely changed, now full of sentiment, one you could only assume came from genuine love for Megumi. “It doesn’t look like it, but I’m sure he secretly likes me. The death glares are at least kept to a minimum when it’s just the two of us.”

“He has a tendency to be a little cranky.” He smiled then, a small and almost shy smile.

“I’m going to make this quick, because he’ll be back down any second,” he took a deep breath as he straightened his posture. “After you came along… I’ve never seen him like this.” Your breath hitched in your throat at the slightly ominous statement. “There’s a lightness in him I’ve never seen before. You clearly mean a lot to him, which is why he exaggerates his frown. He’s just being protective.”

With further clarification, your shoulders found rest, starting to shuffle towards the front door, Gojo close behind. “Believe it or not, he brings me lightness too.”

“No, I believe it,” he smiled as Megumi came down the stairs, both of his dogs following him. “I see it in you too.”

“Ready to go?” Megumi asked in a monotone voice, already having put on his shoes and opened the door.

“It was nice meeting you, Gojo,” you bowed.

“Looking forward to the next time.” Megumi didn’t manage to fully conceal the quiet groan that escaped him, both you and Gojo deciding to not pay it any attention.

“I’ll be back in a few days,” Megumi sighed, already halfway down the pathway, simply waving goodbye over his shoulder.

“I’ll miss you!” Gojo yelled dramatically after him, your boyfriend never sparing him a second glance. While he opened the car door for you, you decided to pay Gojo the decency of a smile and a tiny wave.

Megumi did not hesitate to start the engine, his childhood home quickly disappearing behind you.

Then silence hit — thick silence, nearly suffocating on all the thoughts you could so clearly tell was swarming Megumi’s mind.

“I like him,” you breathed, leaning back on the headrest.

“Yeah? I’m glad.”

“You don’t sound glad.”

“Sorry.”

His eyes were glued ahead, as if there was nothing more interesting than the boring scenery and the asphalt going straight ahead.

“Megumi?”

“Hmm?”

“Why didn’t you want me to meet Gojo?”

He didn’t answer — he only let out a deep breath through his nose which you suspected had been trapped in his lungs since the moment you first pulled up in his driveway. Then he pulled over, the car slowly rolling to a halt.

Your pulse quickened, eyeing how his hands had left the steering wheel only for him to pick at the skin around his nails — a nervous tick you only saw him do when he was extremely anxious.

“I don’t want to mess this up.”

His confession was quiet, and had it not been for the fact that there was not a sound in the car or any distractions outside, you would not have been able to hear it.

“Meeting family… it brings expectations. And if I am to mess this up-“

“Don’t say that, you’re not going to mess this up!” You cut him off, hands cutting through the air to intertwine your fingers with his, stopping his bad habit.

“You don’t know that.” His voice still came out low, eyes directed at your hands. “After last time-“

“Stop it,” you interrupted again, bringing one hand to his face to force him to look at you, breaking your heart when his eyes had turned glossy. “We’re past that now, okay?”

“I know we are, it’s just-“ he took another deep breath, “for some reason, I just felt like that if I kept you from meeting him, I could contain the damage and disappointment if I were to screw it up.”

“I didn’t know you felt this way,” you sniffled quietly, fighting not to let the tears take over. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know,” he averted his gaze again, back to fixating on his lap. “Scared, I suppose.”

“You’re not in this alone. You can always talk to me about these things, okay?”

“Mhmm,” the weak sound was barely heard.

Once again you cupped his face, wanting his eyes on you when you said “I’m on your team, Megumi.” His nostrils flared, not wanting the tears to spill. “Please just let me be on your team!”

Yet again he took another deep breath to steady himself, slowly beginning to nod along before leaning into your touch. “Okay,” he whispered.

He didn’t say it, but you could sense how he had actively reached within himself to fint sparks of confidence to give himself over to your request.

Megumi was just used to doing things on his own, never depending on anyone but himself. And up until he met you, that had worked perfectly fine. But faced with a relationship, he had found himself between a rock and a hard place, where exposing himself emotionally to another human being was necessary for it to work — and you were worth every ounce of dedication. Every other aspect of his life had turned miniscule in comparison to you.

He hadn’t exactly made it easy for you to cooperate when it came to his feelings. But that stopped now, fully surrendering to the fragility one could not avoid in a relationship. He knew you’d be there.

“You want me to drive?”

“No, it’s fine,” he sighed, the evidence of tears gone as he sat back up in his seat. He removed your hand from his face to place a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“You’re not still going to run errands, are you?” Your pulse finally started to calm down when you spotted a small smirk lurking at the corner of his lips.

“Not a chance.”

“My place and order in?”

“Sounds perfect.”

tags (taglist is open)

@sad-darksoul @nyahctrl @ssetsuka @aceakariii @chxlexauriana

@ps-forgetmenot @thejujvtsupost @acowboykisser @rixo-19

@aestheticallyvini @iheartlinds @rory-cakes @tiffanyandrson

a/n okay idk what's happening but i'm not quite vibing with my writing lately... words aren't wording iykwim... however, did yall catch me teasing some angst in here tihi?? look forward to that

[imtryingbuck]

Weightless

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x plus-size fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky and yn date and his dad’s nasty to her because of her weight (as always, I’m amazing at summaries.)

Word count: 4,707

Warnings: angst. Bucky’s parents being the worst. Bucky being the best. swearing. insecure reader. modern au. being mocked for having a poor background. mentions of cheating (not bucky or reader) ends in fluff

A/N: remember every body is perfect!

Masterlist

Waking up in the warm embrace of Bucky’s arms, he’s warm breath fanning lightly over her neck tickling her ever so slightly. Trying to shift out of his hold causing him to tighten his muscly arms around her.

“Buck I need to go toilet” she whispered.

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“You’re warm” is all he says as he pulls her body even closer to his.

“But Buck I really need to wee, I’ll be right back” promising in hopes that he’d let go of her.

“Okay, promise you’d be right back?”

“Promise”

“Gimme a kiss first”

Turning in the arms of her boyfriends she give him a kiss he released her, getting out of the bed she couldn’t stop the small smile from forming watching as he pouted and made grabby hands at her.

Finishing off in the bathroom Y/n raised an eyebrow at the man-child in the bed who was still pouting at her.

“Hurry, I’ve already forgotten what you feel like”

“Dramatic much?”

“Nope” he smirked.

Climbing back into the bed Bucky wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her bringing her closer to his chest than before.

“You definitely coming tonight, right?”

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea Buck”

“Why isn’t it? Me and you all dressed up, free food and booze, dancing, we even have to sneak off to find a bathroom-“

“Have to?”

“Oh it’s a must baby, I’d probably die if we don’t” he says grinning.

“Idiot”

“Plus I know you already have a dress, Nat told me so…”

It’s true Y/n did have a dress already, Nat and Wanda had dragged her shopping with them both in search of a new dress for Bucky’s parents anniversary party. Wanda had actually picked it out for her and at first she was a bit apprehensive until Wanda squeezed her hand with hers and telling her that the dress was in her size.

The girls all but forced her into the changing room with encouraging words and smiles. Y/n had to admit Wanda did pick out a stunning dress for her to try on and when she stood there finally finding the courage to look at herself in the mirror a small smile made its way on to her lips. The dress was beautiful and fit perfectly; not too baggy, not too tight, even her arms looked alright in the dress.

When she stepped outside to where the girls were waiting their jaws practically fell off. Both telling her that the dress was made for her, making her roll her eyes at the pair. A woman had walked by and complimented Y/n which made her blush and smile shyly at her.

However there was a problem with attending the anniversary party with Bucky. Problem being that she hadn’t been given an invite.

Everyone received a formal invitation with no mention of a plus one, Bucky and his sister had even received a card. Nat and her boyfriend Bruce received individual cards, Wanda and her boyfriend had individual cards, same with Steve and his wife Peggy.

But not her.

And at first she thought it was okay as her and Bucky had only been dating for two years but when Wanda told her that Vis had been invited after them only dating for a few months, it hurt. Y/n wasn’t stupid to the knowledge that her boyfriend’s parents didn’t like her, they made that very clear from the moment she had met them, with the questions and judgemental stares, the remarks about the difference between herself and Bucky’s ex Dot was enough to tell her that they did not like or approve of her or her relationship with their only son.

Winifred tolerated Y/n purely for her sons sake, she made the mistake once of calling her Winnie just as everyone else did and she looked at her in absolute disgust and told her not to call her that, that only family and friends can call her by that name. 

George made comments about her weight from the beginning. His favourite pass time was to repeatedly remind her of how Dot was perfect for Bucky, he once told her that all she was to Bucky was something to pass the time with until Dot came back, and sadly she agreed with his statement.

Bucky bless his heart didn’t know any of this and genuinely believed that his parents liked his girlfriend.

Since she hadn’t been invited the plan was to make out to Bucky that she was ill right at the last minute, so all she had to do was play along for a few more hours.

“The dress is beautiful I have to admit”

“Just like you. Do you want to get dressed here so we can leave together?”

“Oh um my dress is at my apartment, so you can pick me up for there”

“Or I can come to yours and get dressed?”

Shit.

“My apartments a complete mess” she lied.

“And? Baby we’ll go to yours in a few hours have a shower, get dressed ooh can I braid your hair? I love doing it! And we can leave together, that way I don’t have to be away from you for long and I’ll save money for petrol”

Double shit.

There was no way of being able to back out of this now, she knew that she’d have to go to a party that she wasn’t invited too and hope to a higher power that neither one of his parents say anything.

“Okay”

Bucky happily braided her hair after carefully brushing the knots out. He started to learn how to do it after a couple of months into their relationship and now he was a pro.

“All done baby” he says pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

“Thank you Buck”

“Okay, okay go put on your dress, I’m dying to see it”

The smile was no longer present as she looked in the mirror, the dress was no longer perfect, it was tight around her stomach and her arms looked like tree trunks. She looked ridiculous and felt like it.

Tonight was going to be humiliating, she was going to embarrass Bucky in front of his family, his friends and strangers.

“Baby? You nearly done?”

“I-“

“Babe? Is everything alright?”

“I need you to close your eyes for me Bucky”

“Ooh I like this, okay my eyes are closed my love”

Slowly opening the door her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Bucky standing there in his black suit, hair done perfectly and his eyes closed with a soft smile on his lips.

“Baby, can I open my eyes now?”

“N-no. No please don’t”

“Y/n? Sweet girl what’s wrong?“

“N-nothing Bucky. I-um-I just remembered-“

“Fuck. Baby you… you’re stunning!”

“What?”

He moved closer to his girlfriend, eyes full of adoration and a hint of lust. “You’re so beautiful, and this dress is so gorgeous on you. I’m so lucky to have you by my side”

Bucky always knew how to make her feel beautiful and confident even in her darkest of moments when the voices in the back of her head get to loud for her to ignore, in the two years of their relationship there’s only ever been two occasions where she didn’t believe him. The first being when the two had sex for the first time and he kept the light on, she had told him he could turn the light off so he was more comfortable, his face contorted in confusion and he reassured her that he wanted to see her as he made love to her, the whole time he spoke words of love and affection. She honestly believed he was lying so he could get what he wanted from her. 

And the second time was right now. Standing here in front of him as his eyes moved up and down slowly over her body, eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration, speaking the words that he spoke daily to her, she just couldn’t help but think that he was lying again.

“Buck, I-I look ridiculous. I think you should just leave an-and tell Nat and Wanda that I fell ill, okay?”

“What are you talking about baby? You look perf-“

“It’s too tight, and look at my arms James. It fit perfectly in the store… I-I don’t know what happened. I don’t want to embarrass you okay? So you go and have fun and I’ll see you tomorrow I promise”

“It’s not tight. Your arms are perfect. Nothings happened baby okay. You could never ever embarrass me, hell even if you wore a bin bag I’d still be so proud to call you mine. Sweet girl if you don’t want to go, that’s fine we can stay here and watch films but I’m not going anywhere without you”

“Its your parents anniversary party Buck you have to go, I’ll be fine I promise”

“So? I’m not going without you doll”

That went on for nearly 30 minutes.

“Okay. I’ll go with you but I’m chang-“

“Nope, you’re staying in that dress beautiful girl. Now get your shoes on so we can leave”

At the venue where the party was being held she couldn’t stop fiddling with her fingers and when her eyes saw a man at the door taking names her stomach dropped.

“Names”

“James Barnes and Y/n L/n”

The man looked up at Bucky and smiled letting him through, Bucky held her hand to lead her in when the man’s rough voice stopped the both.

“Excuse me Miss but you’re not on the list.”

“What do you mean she’s not on the list?”

“There’s no Y/n L/n on here sir”

“There’s got to be a mistake.” Bucky frowned, eyes shifting from her to the man.

“No mistake, I’m afraid sir”

“But she’s my girlfr-“

“Buck, it’s okay I’ll just head home. Enjoy your night” Giving him a quick kiss on the cheek she pulled her hand away, trying desperately to ignore the stares and mumbles from people around.

“Baby, Y/n hold on a second”

“Bucky it’s fine honestly”

“I’ll ring my dad and see-“

“No babe it’s okay really-“

“Y/n-“

“James, about time you showed up” George’s loud voice interrupted Bucky.

“Dad Y/n’s not on the list for some reason?”

“Oh? That’s strange, anyway come on son your mother wants to see you”

“But dad my girlfriend…”

“Oh fine, she can come in too. Now come”

Bucky’s eyes found hers and she tried so hard to get him to see that she didn’t want to do this but all he did was grab a hold of her hand and followed his father.

Despite how large the room was the air was stuffy, it felt like there was hardly any room for people to move around. Overcrowded and her very own personal hell is the best way to describe the hall.

The lingering looks from those around made Y/n self-consciously pull on the dress, she even tried to breathe in as long as she could.

“Son your mother wants to see you, on your own if you don’t mind” George says the last part to Y/n, nodding and sliding her hand out of Bucky’s she smiled at him - well at least she thought it was a smile it was more like a grimace.

“I’ll be right back okay, Nat and Wanda are over there” pointing over to where the two redheads were her eyes followed.

“I’ll see you soon”

Bucky takes his leave and so does she before George’s hand stops her.

“I want to talk to you” not giving Y/n a chance to reply he all but drags her off and away from the sea of bodies.

“What are you doing here? You wasn’t invited”

“B-Bucky made me come” George raises a thick eyebrow and she quickly notice she mistake “Sir”.

“You look horrendous. There was a reason for why my wife and I didn’t invite a disgusting, fat nobody like yourself, want to know why?”

“W-why sir?”

“Our soon to be daughter in law is here and to be truthful my wife and I can’t be doing with your dramatics, again.”

Again. Y/n knew he was talking about the time Bucky had made her jump causing the glass to fall from her hand and shatter on the floor of the kitchen floor. The apologies that slipped out of her mouth none stop as Bucky assured her that it was okay and he’d clean it up, Winifred hissed “your useless”, she tried to pry the dust pan and brush away from Bucky’s hands so she could clean up the glass but all he did was move her away with a smile on his face.

The glares that were given to her by his parents, aunt and uncle made the tears well up and annoyingly slip out. Y/n felt so bad for breaking a glass that didn’t belong to her and even worse as Bucky was the one cleaning it up.

She didn’t dare tell him that she had a shard of glass stuck in her foot.

“I-I-“

“What does he see in you huh? Must be a decent fuck, that’s the only reason we can see him being with you” he taunted, never in the nearly two years she have been unfortunate enough to know him has he ever spoken to her like this.

“It’s embarrassing that you came to a party that you was not invited too. Did you come to see how the rich live? Your parents too poor to keep a roof over the heads for the gaggle of children your mother shot out of her cunt.” Her nose flared at the way he spoke about her mum, normally she would have defended her but George had managed to render her speechless.

“Listen child this so called relationship between yourself and my son doesn’t make sense, he needs a real woman by his side not someone who is clearly trying to be something it clearly isn’t.” His hand reached out to grab her stomach and pulled, flinching as it happened she tried to pull away. “Dolores and James will get back together, they will get married. Matter of fact he’ll be proposing tonight and my beautiful Winnie and I will be happy to have her as our daughter in law. How about you run along back to the hole you crawled out of”

The small patch of her stomach was still in his hand, she knew that a bruise was already forming, he shoved her backwards.

“Go or I’ll call security.”

Stumbling backwards she turned the corner just to see Bucky standing with Nat, Wanda, Steve and Sam. And Dot. Her arm wrapped around Bucky’s as she clings on to him.

Was the pain there because of the realisation that she never stood a chance of being good enough for someone who proclaimed their love for her at every opportunity they had?

Or was it because of how happy he looked?

Or maybe it was because Dot looked up and locked eyes with hers and smirked.

Either way her heart ached painfully in her chest.

Sticking close to the walls Y/n kept her head down so she wasn’t seen by her now ex-boyfriend and his friends and so that the other party guests wouldn’t see the stream of tears flow down her reddened cheeks.

The exit was just in reach when her name was called.

“Y/n-sweetheart what is wrong?” Peggy asked worriedly.

“I-I-…I don’t feel so good. Bye Peggy”

“Y/n where’s Bucky? He shou-“

“Don’t, don’t tell him I’ve gone okay. It won’t matter anyway, thank you Peggy for being my friend for the pa-past two years”

Y/n sees how her eyebrows flick in confusion but before the British brunette can respond she rushes out through the doors she had come through not that long ago.

The slow drum of her heart feeling heavier with each step she took, the laughter and cheers mocking her pain fading in the background as the tears rolled down and off her cheeks.

“Hey ma” greeting her with a kiss to her cheek Winnie’s face lit up seeing her son.

“Oh Bucky you’ve arrived. Guess who’s here too!”

“A lot of people” Bucky chuckled.

“Dottie’s here” she beamed up at him.

“What? Why is she here?”

“She’s family Buck, stop being rude”

“Did you know that Y/n wasn’t on the guest list?”

“Who?”

The frown Bucky wore deepened, she’s met his girlfriend on numerous occasions. “My girlfriend ma-“

“Oh her, I thought she was your friend”

“Are you joking me right now? She my girlf-“

He’s cut off by a high pitched voice that he hadn’t heard in four years, the voice he had no idea how he put up with for a year. The same whinny voice belonging to the woman he was in love with until she broke up with him out of the blue and then a few days later she was dating the guy who spent year’s tormenting him. Brock.

“Bucky! It’s been so long”

“Hi” he mumbles making sure Winnie notices his death stare.

“How have you been?” Dot goes in to give Bucky a hug, frowning as he takes a step back.

“Fine thanks, ma I’m going to find Y/n I’ll see you in a bit”

“Who’s that?” Dot asks.

“His friend Dottie”

“She’s my girlfriend. Has been for the past two years-“

“Oh…that’s around the time I broke up with Brock, he wasn’t worth my time”

That’s not exactly what happened. Yes she broke up with him but it wasn’t because he wasn’t worth her time but because she walked in on him having sex with her best friend.

He remembers the day he received multiple missed calls, he sat in his car staring at the text message from Dot telling him what had happened and how she had messed up and that she wanted him back. Bucky sat and read the message over and over again he didn’t know whether to cry or laugh.

Laugh at the fact she had gotten karma, he had a nagging feeling that she had cheated on him with Brock so he thought it was fitting that she had to go through that.

Cry because she had messaged him about her life problems on the day he had his first date with Y/n. It had been two years since Dot had ruined him, two years on and he was still affected by what she had done. Then he met Y/n, he finally gained the courage to ask her out when she said yes he played cool but internally he was screaming.

The day his ex was having the worst day of her life as she put it, he was having the best day of his.

“I need to find Y/n”

“I’ll come with you, I want to meet the girl who’s been holding my place”

Before Bucky had time to respond Dot had wrapped her arm around his and dragged him off.

“Oh guys it’s been so long since I last saw you” Dot squealed as she got closer to Bucky’s friends who were huddled around together.

“What is she doing here Buck?” Nat asked with her arms crossed, Bucky felt like she was staring into his soul with how intense Nat was looking at him.

“I’m his date silly!” The friendship group all snapped their heads towards Bucky whilst his went to Dot.

“Let go of me. I’m not playing Dolores”

“Nope, it’s meant to be me and you James just like we always talked about”

“You’re insane aren’t you? He has a girlfriend who’s a thousand times better than you” Wanda spoke before Bucky could. Wanda never did shy away from making her hatred known for Dot.

“I heard she’s fat.” Dot sneered.

Now it was Natasha’s turn to jump in before Bucky or Wanda could defend Y/n “she isn’t and even if she was it doesn’t matter. Like Wanda said she’s a thousand times better than you-“

Bucky didn’t stop the smile from forming as his friends defended the girl he was in love with, the one who he knew was his everything. The one he brought a ring for with Peggy by his side, the ring sat in his sock draw waiting for their third year anniversary so he could get down on one knee. At first he thought it was a bit too soon but like Peggy reminded him, Steve proposed after only six months and they’d been happily married for nearly five years now.

Bucky is lost in his own little world drowning out his friends who each take it in turns to berate Dot, he’s oblivious to his surroundings and is completely unaware that Y/n sees him with Dot still on his arm, nor does he notice the smirk on Dot’s lips as she makes eye contact with Y/n.

The bubble pops as his father takes the microphone, the hall goes quiet as his father moves closer to his mother. His blue eyes bounced all around the grand hall in search for Y/n, as he does so he tries to shake off Dot.

“-my wife and Is 25th anniversary, truly has and always will be the love of my life-“

George’s voice filters in and out as Bucky starts to worry even more about where Y/n was, he sees Peggy pushing by people in a haste.

“Bucky, it’s Y/n… she’s left and she was crying. I tried to stop her, she thanked me for being her friend for the past two years. What’s going on?” Her eyebrows furrow when she sees Dot and how close she is to Bucky.

“W-when?”

“A few minutes ago.”

Bucky pushes Dot away and makes his way through the crowd, not apologising when he bumps into those in his way.

He gets to the double doors that lead to the hallway, he’s so close he could feel the cold air, when George’s voice that’s amplified by the microphone stops him.

“I want to welcome my son James and his darling fiancée Dolores up on the stage”

Stopping dead in his tracks he slowly turned to face his father with a puzzled look, George’s lips turn into a smirk.

The crowd cheers and claps unaware or unfazed by Bucky’s reaction. He sees Dot moving towards George with a beaming smile, he also sees the glares and confused looks from his friends.

“Come on son, don’t keep you beautiful fiancée waiting” George says through gritted teeth.

Bucky’s feet lead him before his brain can catch up.

He’s halfway through the crowd, ignoring his friends shouting at him in the background Bucky holds his head up even if heart is beating violently. He has to do this, he can’t fail himself or Y/n.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about father. I’m not going to marry Dot, Y/n is my-“

“Say girlfriend I dare you” George growls.

“She is my girlfriend Father”

“She’s a fat nobody who’s only using you for your money, stop playing around and get up here”

Bucky flinches at George’s words, he knows it isn’t true Y/n never lets him spend his money on her. The only time he gets to spoil her is on her birthday or on Christmas. Not once has he ever thought of Y/n being fat, if he’s being honest he’s never noticed her weight to him she’s the definition of perfect.

He knows one day in the future he will regret the heartache he’s about to put his mother through but right now he doesn’t care. Turning his head in his mothers’ direction he sees the smirk she wearing, maybe he won’t regret this. He takes a deep breath in and slowly exhales.

“Did you know his secretary he sacked two years ago is his mistress? She’s pregnant, and oh she’s standing just over there”

Though he feels slightly guilty at his mothers’ fallen face and at the tears already gathering in her eyes, he doesn’t stop himself from smiling when his father stands there on the stage in front of everyone he knows spluttering out incoherent words, George’s eyes bounce from Winnie to his mistress who’s trying to blend into the wall, trying hard to get away from the judgemental stares from those there.

“Oh and no I won’t be marrying Dot, congratulations on your 25th anniversary father.” And with that he leaves to find Y/n, laughing at his friends who all cheer at the scene he just caused.

“Baby I know you’re in there, please open up” He knocks for the umpteenth time.

Hearing the familiar clicking of the locks he’s greeted by a red eyes, tear stained cheeks of his love.

And a box.

“T-these are you’re things”

“No baby please let me in, I need to talk to you”

“There’s nothing to talk about Bucky, congratulations on your engagement I-I hope you have a wonderful life”

“I haven’t proposed yet-“

“Oh, okay break up with me then”

“I haven’t proposed yet... to you” he breathes out.

“W-what?”

“Can I come in and explain? Please”

Nodding Y/n opens the door wider for him to enter, Bucky removes the box from her hands replacing his in them instead he leads her to the couch. Wiping the freshly falling tears he tells her what had happened from Peggy telling him that she had left, to his father, right to him outing his father’s affair.

“Bucky!” she scolded; she was there with Bucky when he caught his father having sex with his 22 year old sectary. She tried to convince him that he should tell his mum, held him as he cried after he got himself worked up with all the emotions.

“What? They both had it coming, I also told her that the mistress is pregnant and pointed over to where she stood” he smiles “baby I had no idea what they was doing I swear-wait how did you know about the engagement?”

“Oh… your father told me-“ It was then Y/n’s turn to tell him everything that has happened over the nearly two years of her knowing his parents.

“Ba-baby I-I didn’t know, I’m so sorry” he chokes out, his throat swells up due to him trying not to cry. The guilt hitting him like a ton of bricks when he remembers all the times he dragged her with him to his parents house, or how it took her to tell him everything for things to make sense like how she always shut down for a few days after they spent time with his parents or how she would never eat in front of them, so many things made sense and the guilt was swallowing him whole.

“It’s oka-“

“No its not Y/n, I should of realised and baby I’m so fucking sorry”

“Ma-maybe if you go back and apologise to them they won’t be to mad, maybe they’ll understand and-and you and Dot can still get engaged” she hesitantly says even though it broke her heart.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your fathers right Buck, I’m not good enough for yo-“

“Shut up. Y/n I swear to god don’t say that ever again! Please don’t ever think that you’re not good or enough for me because I can promise you right here, right now that you are and always will be baby”

Before Y/n can respond a knock sounding from the door makes both jump, Bucky goes to open it instantly smiling as their friends all stand there, Sam and Wanda hold up pizza boxes with wide grins on their faces, letting everyone in Steve waits behind.

“Buck, here” the blonde whispers, holding the small box out that he instantly recognises.

“H-how?”

“I’ve got a spare key remember, I really don’t think you should wait Buck.”

“Thanks punk”

“You’re welcome jerk”

Watching from the doorway as his friends make themselves at home and seeing a genuine smile grace Y/n’s beautiful face as she stared back at him.

“I love you” he mouths.

Every time he says them words, he means them with his whole heart his entire begin.

He closes the door behind as his walks towards his future.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[slasherhoe87]

Good Morning Honey🥰

I hope you have a good rest of the week🖤🥺

I was wondering Dark! Stepdad Michael x f| reader where Michael has been dating your mother for months and a year he's moved in with you two he starts a relationship with you while mother goes out for work or a trip away for work and something happens, I love your blog <3

Thanks Megan, you as well 😊😉

Man, did this idea make me smirk. I'll give it my best shot - hope you'll like it!

Dark!Stepdad OG Michael Myers (set in modern day) x Fem Reader

Warnings: Cheating / Age Gap: Michael is 38 and Reader is 19

NSFW / MDNI

You looked down into the back yard through your bedroom window with utter dread. Your mom had invited a bunch of her friends and some select few family members for a Saturday afternoon bbq and you were not looking forward to mingling with them.

You knew the same questions would be fired at you, such as have you found work yet? have you met anyone special? i hope you help your mom around the house? when last have you seen your dad? Then they'll go back to ignoring you and carry on with their insipid conversations about their marriages and work life. As always. Leaving you to sit there like a stooge with no one to talk to.

You at least managed to get out of the first hour or so of the bbq by lying to your mom that you had a headache and that you just wanted to take a pill and have a bit of a sleep so that the medication could work before you join everyone for lunch. She believed you, to your own surprise, as the 'ol headache excuse was one of the oldest in the book.

Michael of course was not so lucky. He could not escape the dull chore of domestic entertainment and socializing that was a bbq this time around. Usually the moment mom mentioned the words 'friends', 'family' and 'coming over' Michael would disappear for a day or two and your mom had to make up stories as to his whereabouts.

You had a giggle to yourself as you spied Michael standing with the men around the grill, an apple cider in hand and a 'dear god please kill me now' expression on his usually stoic face.

You looked at him for a bit longer, admiring how the navy tshirt he wore stretched across his broad chest and shoulders, how his black jeans hugged his shapely thighs and ass.

You always felt guilty when you looked at and thought about Michael in any way other than platonic. The Shape of Haddonfield was your mother's boyfriend after all. Lusting after the serial killer seemed wrong for so many reasons.

But you simply couldn't help it. He was too compelling, too darkly alluring, too physically attractive. He reminded you of a jungle cat - beautiful and svelte, dexterous and strong and so very enchanting to gaze upon. But he was also deadly and dangerous, an apex predator. Death in human form - the boogeyman. And that made him all the more alluring for you. Your mom obviously felt the same, otherwise she'd have run for the hills by now.

Michael must have felt eyes on him as you jerked slightly when you again looked at his face and found him staring up and right at you. His usual blank expression was back in place but his eyes always held so much emotion that he didn't need to use any expressions.

His head tilted a bit to the left as if asking why you weren't down there suffering alongside him. You took pity on the murderous man and decided that you had hidden away in your bedroom for long enough.

Let's just get this started and over with

You looked at Michael one last time before you left your bedroom and made your way downstairs, passing a gaggle of your mom's friends who were gossiping and giggling about who-know's-what. You gave them a quick hello and a wave and rolled your eyes as you exited out of the living room's sliding door and out into the back garden.

You were immediately accosted by your two overbearing aunts with their obedient and wimpy husbands trailing after them. They of course bombarded you with the usual questions, judgement in their eyes and fake interest and sincerity dripping from their tongues. All they wanted was gossip fodder and you were glad your life was relatively boring and free of anything to gossip over.

Realizing this, your aunts quickly ended the "conversation" and stalked off to a couple of your mom's friends. You huffed and walked over to the grill, intending to save Michael from his torment.

Before you could take another step forward your mom intercepted you and blocked your view of the handsome man with the butterscotch curls and intense stormy blue eyes.

"y/n sweetie, Angela is driving me crazy with her tales of her and Peter's trip to the UK - she's expecting me back to hear about their casino trip disaster asap. God I just can't get away. Please go to the kitchen and finish making the potato salad - I just managed to cut them into cubes before she found me and dragged me away" your mom huffed and rubbed her temples.

You chuckled and nodded before gesturing to your aunts. "Try sending her and Peter to aunt Yvette and aunt Miranda - they'll keep each other busy for hours with their gossip mongering"

"Good idea!" exclaimed your mom as she pecked you on the cheek before begrudgingly trekking back to her friends Angela and Peter.

You turn back to look over at the grill and see Michael staring intently at you again. You blush and clear your throat before you walk up to the intimidating killer.

"Sorry boys but I need help in the kitchen and I'll be taking Michael along with me" you say as you gently grasp Michael's wrist.

The men barely heard you over their own boisterous laughter and storytelling with you only receiving a few half-hearted grunts and "no problems" in return.

Of course they wouldn't miss Michael, he was practically a piece of garden furniture standing beside them. Silent and still as a statue.

Michael let you drag him through the throngs of guests before the both of you stopped in the now empty kitchen with everyone else enjoying the music and sunshine outside.

"Next time you're taking me with you to wherever you disappear to when mom has one of these get-togethers, ok?" you say as you get a spoon out of the drawer and reach for the ground salt and pepper.

Naturally you were met with silence but you weren't fazed. Despite his stillness you knew he was taking in your every word and movement. Which was both comforting and disconcerting at the same time.

To your surprise Michael went to the fridge and pulled out the onions, green and red peppers, chives and mayonnaise and handed them to you before silently moving to your side again. You smiled up at him and mouthed a thanks before you began the task of dicing up the veggies to add to the potatoes.

Your concentration on your task was at level zero with how close Michael was standing next to you. His presence was larger than life, engulfing you in a sort of tangible energy that threatened to swallow you whole if you allowed it.

You felt his eyes raking over your form and your heart began thrumming wildly within your chest. Your eyes were glued to the cutting board but at this point, with the atmosphere Michael was setting you were simply working on auto pilot.

Ever so gently - which was a miracle in of itself coming from Michael - he ghosted his fingertips along your forearm, circling your elbow before moving up your bare upper arm. Goosebumps formed on your flesh, the fine hairs on your body stood to attention and your nipples hardened and pebbled beneath your sundress.

You didn't know what in the hell had gotten into Michael but your body didn't want him stop. And stop he didn't. Your nerves felt like they were set on fire as the tall man moved to stand flush behind you, both of his hands softly caressing your ribs on either side, his lips gently brushing over where your neck meets your shoulder.

You let out a small gasp, your eyes closed and you stopped cutting the veggies. This was wrong, so so wrong. You shouldn't give in to this, you should yell and push him away and march to your mom and tell her what her boyfriend just pulled in the kitchen. But you don't listen to your head. You fall into your body's desire and succumb to the ministrations Michael is performing on your flushed skin.

"Michael this is wrong" you try and tell him but your words lack conviction and are instead laced with lust. "We can't do this" you try once more but your eyes shoot open and a loud breath leaves you as Michael lowers himself to his knees, lifts the hem of your dress and drags his index finger along your cotton clothed slit.

Little jolts of electricity bounce to every nerve and cell of your body as Michael repeats the motion while his soft lips press chaste kisses against your bare bottom. You nervously look out through the empty living room and into the garden where you can see the guests drinking and chatting away, none the wiser of what's happening in the kitchen with their friend's daughter and her boyfriend.

Michael moves to sit on the kitchen floor, his back against the kitchen cabinets and his face right in line with your now dripping pussy. A wanton moan escapes you as he pulls your cotton thong down to your knees and grips your throbbing clit with his lips, giving it a deep pull, his teeth gently scraping against the sensitive flesh.

"Michael!" you gasp as your hands drop the red pepper and knife and instead grip the curls atop his head as Michael continues to caress your clit with his lips and tongue. You find yourself grinding against his face at the pleasure wracking through your heated body as Michael's large hands grip each one of your ass cheeks, firmly squeezing and massaging them.

Eventually you feel the blazing tightening deep in your core as your orgasm fast approaches. "Michael... I'm gonna..." you can't form coherent sentences with how good the serial killer's mouth is abusing your pulsing clit. Michael gives your ass cheek a firm, hard slap - his way of commanding you to cum for him.

That hard slap sent a pleasurable jolt through to your pussy which pushed you over the edge. Your hands flew to your mouth to cover your euphoric cry as the orgasm which wracked your body was the most intense you had ever felt - your own fingers had never and most likely could never bring such an orgasm about.

You panted and gripped the counter while trying to steady your breathing as you came down from your high. You looked down onto Michael who was staring back up at you. The bottom half of his face was glistening with your juices, and while his features showed no emotion, his eyes were smoldering with satisfaction and something else you couldn't identify... something dark.

🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

A few weeks had passed since your and Michael's initial escapade in the kitchen and since then the two of you had been indulging in one another and simply spending more time with each other whenever you could - you of course enjoyed the carnal pleasure that Michael brought you but more than that you found you really enjoyed his company. His mere presence calmed your otherwise natural nervous disposition and you found you shared a lot of things in common such as your music, movie and even food tastes among some other things and interests. You were never the one to initiate though, you were far too shy and guilt-ridden for that.

You couldn't believe what you were doing to your mom. She loved Michael but Michael clearly didn't love her. So why was he in a relationship with her? Was it perhaps one out of convenience? A roof over his head, food, a body to keep him warm and satisfied? You could imagine his barren old childhood home didn't offer much of anything, not like your and your mom's home could.

You didn't really know how to feel about that. If that was the case then he was simply using your mom while she in return was giving her resources, time, heart and body to someone who held no true feelings for her.

With an aggravated huff you pushed those ruminations to the back of your mind, where you had been trying to keep them caged and out of sight so that the guilt didn't eat you up while you fell deep and hard into the Michael abyss - you were treading dangerous terrain with Michael and you were afraid to where it would lead to.

"You seem deep in thought y/n" you jumped, startled by your mom's voice as you sat on the sofa, with you only partially paying attention to The Last of Us showing on the tv.

"Oh! Uhm, yeah.. sorry. Just thinking about the interview yesterday. I hope I get the job" you lie nervously as you look up at your mom.

"Don't worry hun, you'll get it. That job is perfect for you, Mr. Jenkins would be a fool to let you slip through his fingers. You would be so happy in that little bookstore. Just you, your boss and a ton of books. I know you'd hate to work in a large office building with hundreds of people, bright lighting and loud constant noise like myself"

You blow out a small breath as you rake your fingers through your hair. "I don't know how you manage that, I would never be able to get any work done and I think half the time I'd just hide away in the bathroom"

Your mom chuckles and pats your head before grabbing a chocolate covered pretzel from the bowl in front of you. "By the way, I just came to let you know that I'll be leaving for a couple of days with Don. Some seminar in Seattle and he wanted me to tag along"

Your eyes narrowed as your mom carried on speaking about the business trip, though Don was more on her tongue than the actual details of the trip itself. She raved about his big house and red Porsche, and how many new business ventures he was wading into. She had stars in her eyes and a dusting of pink on her cheeks as she practically gushed about her wealthy boss and all his possessions.

You couldn't believe it. Was your mom really feeling some type of way about Don the Douchebag? You hated that guy - you'd never met anyone more smug, self-important, materialistic and pretentious as that man. You had to be wrong about this, you just had to.

Michael was 100 times more of a man than Don could ever hope to be! Sure, Michael didn't have any material possessions or financial resources but he outshone Don in all other ways.

Michael was handsome, he was strong, capable, had an indomitable will, he had an endless pool of determination and conviction. He was sure in and of himself and let nothing stand in his path. His skill as a lover was to your limited knowledge, skilled perfection. He was smart and had a subtle humour that resonated with you which often left the two of you snickering while your mom stood there not understanding the joke.

When you felt down he would sit close by you, he never spoke but his presence comforted you - he had even allowed you to hug him on occasion when you had had a rough day at school and you needed physical affection - your mom was always working of course and you were often left at home with Michael. Sometimes you'd come home to a sandwich having been made for you by him, which always softened your heart to the ruthless killer.

He wa-- you stopped your inner defense and monologue of Michael and realized you sounded just the same as your mom who was raving about Don. You paused and alarmingly wondered where all those thoughts and praises came from - and they came so quickly too.

As your inner self had spoken so vehemently about Michael a warmth had spread throughout your chest that set your heart racing. Spooked at this, you quickly shut that train of thought down and focused back on the now retreating form of your mom who was informing you that she'd be up in her bedroom packing for the business trip.

You felt eyes on you and looked to the doorway that lead to the garage. Michael stood there in his coveralls and mask, a shiver ran down your spine as those two empty black voids of the mask bored right through you. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding when he turned around and went back into the garage.

🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

Michael had been a bit distant from you and scarce from the house since your mom had been away, only showing up for dinner and two lunches. You worried at this change. Did you do something to upset him? Was he angry at you for some reason?

You didn't quite understand it, but you felt hurt by his absence and distance. You shouldn't though, he's not your boyfriend - he belongs to your mom. So why is that fact starting to hurt too?

You were lying flat on your stomach on your bed doodling in your sketchbook the night before your mom was due to arrive back from the seminar. Your thoughts were everywhere except on your drawings.

These past few weeks had unlocked something within you which had perhaps been there for a long time and only now after certain events had been transpiring was it bubbling to the surface.

That something was Michael.... and your feelings for the masked killer. You knew you shouldn't feel the things you did for him - he was a serial killer, an escaped patient... or inmate? Honestly you felt he was a bit of both. He was way older than you and most importantly he was your mom's lover... not yours.

But you had crossed that line already, had you not? None of those burdensome thoughts crossed your lusty little mind when his mouth and tongue were attached to your wet little pussy, when his long dextrous fingers were inside of your tight hole or when your lips were wrapped around his lengthy, girthy cock. You had no right to bemoan your issues with Michael and your feelings when they meant so little during your desire filled hazes.

Suddenly you felt a dip in your bed from behind you. Your eyes grew wide and your heartbeat sped up. You felt a large body lean over you, caging you between their legs and arms - the white tip nose of the familiar latex mask brushed up against your cheek and down the column of your neck inhaling your scent.

Heat and moisture immediately pooled between your legs as Michael ground his groin against your ass. You could feel his hard length through his coveralls and your thin lacy panties. A small whimper escaped you as Michael moved his hand between your legs and palmed your clothed pussy. He grunted at the warm moisture which had soaked right through the thin material and now coated his calloused skin.

A startled gasp left you as Michael flipped you with ease onto your back - that expressionless sinister mask staring down at your prone form. You noticed his coveralls were stained with darkened splotches here and there and then you spied a little bit of crimson close to the left ear of his mask - he had just come back from a kill... or killings, no doubt. A sickening thrill shot through you and to your core at the thought, your breathing visibly picked up and your pussy clenched.

You should be disgusted and ashamed with yourself at the fact that his killing actually turned you on so much or at all, but as usual, as The Shape lifted your short nightie up your body and shimmied it up over your shoulders and off your head your reservations and warnings fell to the wayside.

You stared up at the killer in eager anticipation as his large, calloused hands began to roam your soft, warm body. You sighed contentedly as his fingertips gently ran down over your ribs, beneath your breasts, down the center of your belly and over your hipbones only stop atop your soft pubic mound.

Your eyes bored into the two shadowed holes of his mask, feelings you didn't understand and maybe didn't want to understand swam at the forefront of your mind as Michael worshipped your body with a sensuality and gentleness you didn't think him capable of. But should you really be shocked? Michael had been surprising you for the last 3 years by proving all the preconceived notions about him wrong. Even your mom took him at face value and never delved deeper into the man behind the mask.

You smirked not so innocently inside your mind, this was something you had of Michael that she didn't. Michael showed you and you alone the real him, the man beyond the one dimensional aspect of the serial killer, the true Michael Audrey Myers and you would savour this for as long as you could.

Michael then trailed his warm hands back up your body to your breasts, cupping them in his hands and giving them a firm squeeze before his fingers began rolling and pinching your pebbled nipples.

You mewled and squirmed at the sensation as his ministrations on your nipples sent small jolts of electricity down to your aching clit.

Michael then took his right hand and brought his fingers to your mouth, pushing his middle and index fingers past your lips for you to suckle and lave with your tongue. You stared up at him again, your half lidded eyes making contact with his own as he finger fucked your mouth. Your ears perked up as you heard the faintest of moans from behind his mask - you smirked to yourself as you found that there were few things sexier than a man who was vocal during sex, even if it were on the softer side. Not that you had been with other men to personally know and hear them moan, as you were a virgin - but you did watch porn.

Him removing his fingers from your mouth broke your chain of thought as you watched him move his hand down to your pussy where he then inserted his wet fingers into your clenching, eager hole.

You squirmed and mewled as he began pumping his long thick digits in and out of your slick pussy, his other hand was rubbing circles around your throbbing clit.

The pleasurable sensations made you tweak and pinch at your nipples which sent you over the edge. With a cry your orgasm shot through your body, your pussy spasmed and clenched around Michael's fingers, your clit pulsated and you sighed in satisfaction with your head hitting your pillow as you came down from your orgasm.

You watched lazily and contentedly as Michael removed his fingers and made to unzip his coveralls. You admired his fit form as more and more skin was revealed the lower his zipper went.

Once his coveralls had pooled below his hips and his throbbing, red tipped member was released you assumed he was after a blowjob as the two of you had not had actual sex with one another yet.

Your eyes widened when Michael brought the head of his large cock to your slick pussy and dragged it up your slit before circling it over and around your sensitive clit.

Was he planning to-- was this the night!? And with Michael Myers??

Your heartbeat sped up again and your chest visibly rose and fell. Michael looked towards you and tilted his head, seeing your sudden nervousness.

He reached for his mask and pulled it off, tossing it on the floor before returning his attention on you. His stormy blue eyes were darkened with lust yet held a softness to them that you were unused to as he gazed into your own e/c eyes.

Your breath hitched as bent forwards and placed a chaste kiss to your lips. You closed your eyes and felt his tongue slide across your bottom lip asking for entrance. You obliged and opened your mouth, allowing his tongue access. The kiss, at least from your end was sloppy and amateurish as you had never kissed anyone before this. Michael didn't seem to care as he moaned into your mouth. His bare chest was now flushed against yours, his hold on both sides of your head became firmer as the kiss deepened and became more desperate.

You raked your fingernails across his back and gasped into the kiss as you felt the tip of his cock poke at your entrance. Michael pulled away from the kiss leaving you panting and smiling up at him. Never did you ever think a kiss could be so good.

You looked down to where Michael's length was gently resting atop your pubic mound and wondered if you were ready to lose your virginity... to your mom's boyfriend.

The easy reply was yes, a thousand times yes. You wanted this so fucking badly and with nobody else but Michael. And before the other voice in your head could list all the reasons of why you shouldn't do this and why it was wrong you pushed it to the very back of your mind and smiled up at Michael once more before spreading your legs a little wider - your permission for him to continue. For the both of you to go through with this. For Michael Myers to take your virginity.

Michael dragged his nails along your hips and along your thighs before he gripped them and pushed them as wide apart as he could. The cool air hit your moist pussy causing you to whimper. Taking his cock in his hand he ran the head up your slit before rubbing small circles over your clit, you moaned and cupped your breasts. You had never wanted anything more than this before. This is feeling was so unfamiliar, so strange and yet felt so right, so good.

"Michael, please... I need you.. now" you whined as you tweaked your nipples and ran your hands down your flushed body.

Needing no more confirmation Michael aligned the head of his cock with your entrance before carefully pushing inside. You gasped and whimpered at the burning and stinging stretch, gripping Michael's forearms tightly as they rested on either side of you.

Tears welled in your eyes at the painful sensation and looking down at your now joined bodies you knew that Michael's impressive girth was not helping.

Michael began moving in and out of you at a steady pace and slow rhythm, giving you time to adjust to the new sensations.

Soon the sting and burn began to dissipate and pleasure washed over you. You moved your hips forward to meet his thrusts which had now picked up pace and strength.

"Yes Michael... harder.. faster!" you moaned louder as Michael obliged. His pace became thunderous, your hips and thighs visibly rippling as his pelvis slammed against your sweaty, heated skin again and again and again.

Your nails scratched at his back, your toes curled. You never would have thought sex could actually feel this fucking good. The stretch of Michael within you was overwhelming as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix with each deep thrust causing you to let out obscene moans of intense pleasure.

As the both of you chased your orgasms, Michael too became more vocal. His low, throaty grunts and moans sent thrills down your spine, hastening the euphoria that was fast approaching.

Michael leaned down for another desperate kiss as his fingers lavished your clit with needed attention.

The kiss broke as Michael let out a pornographic moan at his orgasm, thick ropes of warm sticky cum coated your fluttering walls and with a cry your own orgasm assaulted you at hearing Michael. Your pussy clenched and gripped his shaft, milking it of everything it had to offer.

Michael collapsed on top of you, his weight and him still sheathed inside of you comforted you in a way you didn't know you needed.

You brought your hand up and began running your fingers through his curly sandy blond hair, a content smile gracing your lips. You didn't want to speak to ruin this peaceful moment, so you closed your eyes and continued your ministrations on Michael's head as he hummed in sleepy approval.

There were so so so many things to contemplate on now and to consider going forward but as sleep began to take you, you would worry about everything tomorrow.

If only you had heard the key being slotted into the front door downstairs....

🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

Megan, girl, sorry lol I got carried away with this one - its way longer than I anticipated. Hope you don't mind 😄

[mintedwitcher]

I feel like the fandom leaves no space for criticising Eddie. The moment he does something questionable they're scrambling to find excuses and justifications. They ignore how he hurt others in the process and celebrate his wrongdoings because to them it's a passage to him being queer. I am not stupid I know some of it comes from a place of preventive measures to assure that some weirdos won't be racists, but I don't see why every little critic of him is treated as hate. Like I thought I was hating him because any critical thought I had of him (that I often don't voice out) is treated as if a crime. It wasn't until I saw the actual hate that Tommy got from the fandom that I realised that none of them was that bad. I like Eddie, in fact he was my second favourite this season. I don't know if I am crazy, do I sound crazy?

You're not crazy, nonnie. It's always either "he did nothing wrong" or "he's the worst person in the world and he should die" (a legitimate take I've seen this week about Eddie).

Criticism is not hate. Judgement is not hate. I'm so sick of this recent (and it IS recent) attitude shift in fandom spaces that claims criticising a character means you hate them.

Sometimes, our faves fuck up. It happens. They're telling a human story here and humans are not perfect. If Eddie was perfect - if any of them were perfect - he'd be boring. There'd be no story to tell. Because what can you really do with a "perfect" character? Speaking as a writer, nothing. You can't DO anything with a "perfect" character. There's no growth to be had, no conflict to overcome. It's boring.

But people have gotten too deep in their own feelings and ego to even consider that these very human characters in these very human stories are just... well... human.

Its black and white, good and evil, there's no grey area or nuance to media literacy on this site anymore and it's exhausting.

Eddie is not perfect. He's made a LOT of mistakes. So has Tommy. So has Bobby. So has Hen and Karen and Chim and Maddie and Ravi and Athena and yes, even Buck.

But how can we expect them to grow and change and be better, if we never allow them to graduate beyond their mistakes, to learn from their pasts and choose to do better in future? How can we hold up this expectation of perfection if we refuse to allow the missteps and backslides and growth it takes to get there?

Eddie fucked up. Eddie hurt his son. Eddie hurt himself. Eddie hurt Marisol and Kim. He hurt Shannon in the past too. He's hurt Buck before, he's hurt Bobby before. He has caused a lot of pain. But the important thing is that he chooses to make amends for that hurt, to try and do better so he doesn't hurt the people he cares about again. Acknowledging the bad does not dismiss the good, and vice versa. Eddie is a good dad, he is a steadfast friend, he is a GOOD firefighter. He can, at times, even be a good romantic partner. These things don't just disappear the moment we acknowledge his mistakes.

His storyline was drastic this season but it needed to be. He needed to break through that cycle he developed of comparing every relationship to Shannon. He needed to get out of the trap he laid for himself in trying to replicate what he had with her. And this was the most brutal slap in the face wakeup call of a plot that I have Ever witnessed, and it's exactly what was needed.

Now we get to see Eddie Diaz, the man, instead of Eddie Diaz, the father/husband/boyfriend. And I can't wait to see him finally step into his own shoes as his own independent person at last.

[mexxs-blog]

Shameless

Tws:

N/A

Rhea Ripley and Dominik Mysterio both went through messy, unexpected breakups, and after a few weeks, the WWE universe starts to realise just how much tension they had, and eventually, they realised it too.

(an: if i were you, i would listen to shameless on loop while reading this, trust me 🤞)

________________________________________________

Though both Rhea and Dominik had both posted about their lovers or partner, Rhea was a lot more open. They WWE universe was turned upside down for the both of them when they started having issues. Rhea was the first one of the two to come clean, tweeting a short paragraph stating that she had left Buddy Mathews, and almost instantly, people had left comments and support on her tweet, making sure she was ok. But the one person she was being comforted by was Dominik. He was the very first person who she told.

The breakup of Rhea and Buddy shocked the WWE universe, but not even 4 days later, Dominiks came to the light too. He had left his fiancé, another huge hit to the WWE universe.

Nobody knew why that things had ended between the two couples like it did, but the officials could tell that Rhea and Dom had both been impacted by the breakups, the side affects showing clearly. Rhea looked sleepless, and seemed a lot more quieter backstage, even around the judgement day. Neither her or Dom seemed to smile as much, both of them seeming more agitated.

The next week on RAW, When the Judgement came out to confront Sami Zayn and Kevin Owens, Rhea didn’t smile when Sami made his jokes, which would make any normal wrestler break character. When the Judgement Day weren’t performing , things started falling apart backstage.

________________________________________________

Dominik knocked on the Judgement Days dressing room door, taking a deep breath, before coming in and shutting the door behind him. He had gone to see his dad, just to get some advice. He was in mental shambles, and needed the support of his dad. He had developed feelings for his co-worker, and he had no idea what to do.

When he walked in, Finn and Damian were sitting side by side on the couch, Rhea at the other end, her face looking stormy and irritable as she scrolled on her phone. Finn looked up at Dominik, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“ Where were you Dom? ”

Dominik felt a stab of fear. What happens if they didn’t like that he went to his dad? He opened his mouth, trying to think of an answer, but before he could come up with anything, Rhea answered for him.

“ Shut the fuck up for once Finn. Let him do what he wants. ” She muttered, still boring holes into her phone screen.

Damians brows furrowed.

“ Are you serious, Rhea? He was asking a question, stop getting so butthurt over everything. ” He snapped, and edge to his voice.

Rhea finally looked up, glaring at Damian, slamming her phone on the couch next to her before standing up.

Fear washed over both Finn and Dominik, as they watched Damian stand up straight after. They weren’t used to fights, and when two of the strongest in their group get into a fight, it’s going to be an issue.

“ Tell me, Damian, what do you think gives you the right to jump in? “ She crossed her arms across her chest, her anger building quicker and quicker by the second.

“ Because some nobody little girl insulted my boyfriend, what’s it to you? ” He sneered back, his tone cutting and malicious.

“ And he can’t fight for himself? he’s a grown man. ”

Damian rolled his eyes.

“ This is a waste of my time, YOU’RE a waste of my time, you’re so fucking insufferable. You know what- Get out. ”

Rhea paled instantly, Finn and Dom made eye contact, Dom wincing at Rheas obviously hurt reply.

“ What.? ” She whispered, uncrossing her arms, her eyes widening.

“ Awe, is someone hurt? I said GET OUT. ” Damian yelled, his voice reverberating around the room. everyone instantly froze. Damian never yelled.

“ Damian i- ”

“ OUT! ”

Rhea didn’t say anything else, but she pursed her lips, her eyes watering, tears threatening to spill. She backed out of the room, her angry demeanour shattering. The door slammed behind her, and even then they could hear her sobs as she walked away.

Damian sighed, his anger evaporating as he ran his hands down his face, regret hanging in the air heavily.

“ I’m going to go check on her.. ” Dominik muttered, making Damian and Finn look at him. Dominik sighed.

“ But before i do.. i should tell you guys this. ”

Finn nodded, looking curiously at Dominik as he bit his bottom lip, a slight blush tinting his cheeks.

“ It’s Rhea… i have feelings for her. ”

Damian and Finn looked at each other, right before bursting out into synchronised laughter.

“ We knew that Dom. We’ve known for ages. Go check on her. ” Finn said, ending his sentence with a wink.

Dominik grinned back, Opening the door, closing it with a bump behind him.

———————————————————————————

Sobs wracked Rheas body, her breath short and erratic. Why did she do that? What was wrong with her?

Rheas eyes shot open, a yelp escaping her as she felt arms grab her waist gently, catching her off guard.

She squirmed slightly, her breath hitching as the persons body pressed into her from behind, their grip tight on her hipbones.

“ It’s only me, Rhea. “ Dom chuckled, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine. What was happening to her?

Rhea flushed slightly,

“ Hi again, Dom Dom. ” She answered softly, her body visibly relaxing against his.

“ Listen Rhea, I know breakups are shitty at their finest, But i’m here for you ok? Damian is ready to apologise, and he and Finn both understand what you’re going through. ” He whispered, making Rhea tear up again.

She flipped herself around in his hands, throwing her arms around her neck, her head falling onto his shoulders as the tears started flowing again.

“ Thank you.. so much.. “ she said in between sobs, clinging to Dominiks shirt.

He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her as tight as he would allow himself without hurting her.

“ Anything for you. ”

________________________________________________

ANDDDDD STILL, YOUR SMACKDOWN WOMENS CHAMPION, RHEAAA RIPLEYYY.

*My emotions are naked, they're taking me out of my mind*

The referee held her wrist, holding it above her head. Rhea had fear melted at her feet, relieve washing over as she realised she won the match. Her face broke into a grin as the referee dropped her wrist, going to check on her opponent.

As feelings settled in for good, Rhea realised Dom was climbing into the ring, and instead of staying where she was, she ran towards him, jumping onto him, unable to contain herself.

Right now, I'm shameless, Screamin' my lungs out for ya.

Dominik was caught off guard, surprised at the character break, but still, he upheld her weight easily, smiling up at Rhea.

The world seemed to stop for both of them as he stumbled into the middle of the ring, watching Rheas face. Her pupils dilated as she looked at him, her head spinning and overwhelmed.

“ What is going on with Rhea and Dominik!? ” The announcer, Michael cole said, the crowd going ballistic as they realised what was happening. Damian slung an arm around Finn, both of them watching intently as Rhea and Dom stared at eachother, waiting to see if they would finally do what everyone wanted them to.

Neither of them had wanted to admit their feelings, but right then, right there, they did.

Not afraid to face it

I need you more than I want to

Need you more than I want to

Rhea smashed her lips against his, her hands on the side of his head as she steadied them. Dom kissed her right back, dropping her to her feet gently, instead holding her waist, neither of the two wanting to come back up for air. Her lips were soft, seeking comfort and attention, which Dom gave her, pushing their bodies together more, feeding into each other. When they finally pulled apart, a huge cheer came up from the crowd.

Show me you're shameless

Write it on my neck, why don't ya?

Dominik looked back at Damian and Finn, both of them nodding, grinning back at him.

He looked back at Rhea, smiling as he held out his hand to her, which she took instantly. Together, they climbed out of the ring, meeting Damian and Finn on the sidelines, giggling like school girls. As they started walking down the ramp, Dominik paused, sweeping Rhea off her feet, Placing one of his arms under her thighs, another one steadying her at the back as they walked.

Later on, Rhea and Dominik broke the internet, neither of them addressing the rumours circulating already that they were actually together, instead, Rhea tweeted a photo on her twitter, of her and Dom, Dom sticking his tongue out to the camera, his arm around her stomach, the other draped on the back of the couch, her on his lap, her back pressing against his chest as she smiled broadly at the camera.

Within minutes, the photo went viral, and everyone instantly knew that Dominik and Rhea had finally found themselves, and each other.

(an: this is so cheesy 😭)

[countessofravenclaw]

5 and 11 for the gastina kids

Yay! Just for a reminder we are talking about Oscar (2029), Aurora (2031) and Laura (2032) Perida

Any planned stories/events with the kids in your head?

Obviously, we have the ongoing time travel escapade with Aurora, so lets not talk about that.

I have talked before about the story about Laura getting her first boyfriend at 14, after she meets him at a skating camp. The guy, Alex, is also 14, and a son of a locar firehouse's truck captain and elementary school literature teacher. They're also Spanish (this is important).

Laura's ecstatic, as she is a hopeless romantic and obviously she believes that she has found the "grand love of her life" when again, she's 14, just started high school. Something that Gastón and Nina will have to deal with. Obviously there are gonna be few boundaries and rules in place, like any responsible parents' would do, when their kid is 14 and dating somebody.

Alex's parents, especially his mother, are just a tad bit intimidated by their son's girlfriend turning out to be a daughter of the basically the poster person of Castillo Corporations, a notable and quite acclaimed engineer who is rumoured to be on his way to becoming the next CEO of the company and a successful and accomplished author and literary artist (yes, Gastón and Nina have done quite well for themselves in 20 years, what else were you expecting?). Not to mention the whole granddaughter of millionaires part (Gastón's nt gonna keep his inheritance for himself. Mst of it actually goes to his kids).

Yeah... so, Laura's gonna get her heart broken, because Alex's family moves back to Spain after his Dad's promotion to battalions chief.

She has hard time comprehending the reasons because "they were in love" and that's all that should have mattered to her, ignoring all the real life reasons why a working class immigrant family might wanna return to their country. Again, she is 14.

The heartbreak clouds her judgement, to the point where she gets risky on the skating rink and falls badly.

She ends up in the hospital (yes, again with the hospital) with a pretty messed up leg and a at least a mild concussion.

So, very fun summary...

The Time Travel one, doesn't really highlight anyone in the Roller crew as parents, so this will will definitely focus on that. I mean Nina's gonna get pretty fun trauma response, given the events of my recent fic and now something similar is happening to their duaghter

I have another story kind of planned, focusing on Oscar and kind of finishing the whole arch of Stella having a crush on him... but lets save that for another day.

How are their relationships with other relatives (grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, etc)?

Well, cousins, aunts and uncles are pretty easy. They don't have any, since neither Gastón or Nina don't have siblings.

But, on the other hand, Gastón has nine cousins and Jonathan and April especially are involved with kids' lives. Basically Gastón's cousins are called aunts and uncles. And kids will have several second cousins who they hang out once in a while.

Grandparent wise: Ricardo is the fun and cooky granddad, who maybe not around that much (since he's in Miami) in person but they're in contact and he sends them games to demo and stuff like that. They do see each other too, because they travel and alot and gpt to visit Miami and stuff. I think Ricardo will find a woman or a partner there, but she won't act any sort of grandparent role.

Ana and Mora are quite involved. Ana is Granny and Mora is more often than not called Nana Mora. No one is questioning it, the kids just have three grandmothers.

Same with Gastón parents. Very involved grandparents. I think Gastón and Nina in general are closer to his parent which is actually Nina's choice. They are the go to babysitters, who you can drop the kids and the dog whenever, especially after Gastón manages to convince them to at least retire part time.

Other thing to note about especially Nina's parents is that, like I said above, they are involved with their grandchildren, but she doesn't want Ana and Ricardo to be involved together, because even when they do get along much better as the time goes on and they're aren't in the same continent for the most times. Nina does not wanna risk it. Heaven forbid she ever subjects her own kids to anything close to what she went through.

Ana and Ricardo only like see the kids at the same time during parties like birthdays and graduations. Otherwise Nina does not let them hang out with them together.

[ghxstchronicals]

idk. I don't think I could ever imagine myself being in haru's position ... the amount of religious trauma I would obtain from my parents - especially my dad after my mom passed. can't even have a boyfriend or thoughts about one without getting "disciplined" for it

not to mention the man i'd inadvertently turn my twin brother into - wanting to be the one getting attention from our parents, but never getting as much as me - plaguing his mind into the half-witted monster he is now, a psychopathic narcissist with that need for the spotlight and for things to always be bent his way

accidentally overdosing, being confused when I wake up...i don't have any special bonds, if I can remember correctly. no, I don't; my twin brother got out of canada before I did - he envied me. my mother's dead but our relationship wasn't... then there's my dad. so why am I alive?

oh. my question becomes answered when I bump into my twin at a carnival and he forces his number back into my phone...??? he wanted to stay in touch with me?? okay..

yeah, I end up getting out and going to college - but it still feels...empty, yunno? something's missing and wrong, and I don't know what it is.

i dont, until some depressed guy catches my eye. oh, wait, he's pushing me away, okay-

nevermind. I'm his friend now! :D

his name's Dilon. he's very cold, and has way too much sass and sarcasm for one (1, singular) depressed person. but he has a lot of emotional baggage...that he won't tell me about..

... I don't know what happens, but I wake up in his bed, and by the time my eyes are open, I catch him scrambling out of it wordlessly. my chest almost hurts, but not just because of the quick withdrawal - did I really do this? I just slept with a guy.

i try not to think much of it, but it happens again, and again, and again, even though he's the one insisting every time is the last.

it was only when i called a stop to the sex one day and cried out of guilt and the fear of the consequences I'd face for sinning - and he understood and got off his knees just to make sure I was alright,

that I realized i loved this guy.

and the feelings never went away - i loved him. I can love somebody.

but can he love me back?

i would think so...but i thought i'd have to hear it from him first.

... I really regretted asking. hell, I regretted going over.

but I couldn't help but to see a ring on his finger, one he hadn't worn around me before. I assumed it was just jewelry--he was rich and he wasn't very humble about it (I found that out after I fucked up his, apparently, thousand dollar fur coat). so of course, i'd ask.

...what do you mean you're married?

you have a wife? what?

she just...for the past year, she hasn't been here?

then- then what was the point of you still having the ring? she obviously wasn't coming back. she left, and we were-

"All my heart belongs to her, Haru. I. love you, I really do. However, I could never love you the way I love her." (my favorite part in the whole Google doc)

i wasn't even a rebound. I was barely a rebound. I was, originally, just here to past time until his stupid wife came back. who even was she? it's been a year, he never even talked about her. she's not coming back-

i get punched when I say this. what's wrong with me? is what i'd usually ask myself if I was thinking straight.

we almost fall out after that.

almost.

because if I wasn't already in his house when he stumbled in, staring at the floor like he just saw a ghost - and then promptly knocking over his furniture and collapsing down the wall and sobbing -- if I wasn't there to hold him, against my better judgement, we would've probably never spoken again.

i can taste something bitter in my mouth again as he mentions her.

apparently, he had seen her. they bumped into each other...but she didn't recognize him.

hell, she was even calling someone else her husband. some blonde guy.

i hate myself for a moment when I think I have a chance, finally. but the more rational side of me thinks, knows not to say anything. because if I do, then all the words would be for myself.

i didn't think it was possible to hate someone I hadn't even met, or seen pictures of yet, for that matter. I'm not usually a hateful person, despite everything i'd been through and then some.

but I can't help but think she's ruined everything for me. I don't even know her name.

i just cant believe she made me lose what wasn't even mine yet.

but then I think...

would he have ever been mine, either way?

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Here is part 9:)

Danny and Damian had barely sat down at one of the cafe's table when two people came in, making the bell jingle. Damian immediately zeroed in on the newcomers, and his eyes narrowed. Meanwhile, the two people, one girl and one boy made a beeline for the couple's table before stopping just beside them.

“Oh my gosh,” the blonde said with exaggerated surprise. “What a coincidence to find you here, baby D! And this must be the famous Danny. The world is so small, isn’t it?”

“It was all her idea,” the guy with her said with a guilty shrug. 

“Oh please, you’re just as curious about the demon child’s boyfriend as all of us.”

Damian glowered at them. “Sit down before you make a scene,” he gritted out, and they quickly acceded his request.

“Hi I’m Stephanie. I’m not of Bruce’s kid, I just date them,” the girl said as she smiled at Danny.

“I’m Duke, also not his kid, but he’s fostering me right now.”

The half-dead teen gave them a little wave and a smile back. “I’m Danny, I’m Damian’s boyfriend."

With the introductions done, Stephanie turned towards the youngest with a raised eyebrow.

“Damian why don’t you go order for us?” she said. “That way we don’t have to engineer a situation to get to talk to Danny alone.”

“You can get your own drink,” Damian answered, as he frowned at her.

“Do you want to get locked in the bathroom?” Duke interjected wryly.

“I can go help,” Danny offered.

“Sit down,” Steph ordered. “You’re the one we’re trying to corner here.”

Danny obediently did as he was told.

Damian glared at Steph who just smiled back toothily. He looked over at Danny with something like a question in his eyes and Danny shot him a smile. The message apparently went through because Damian stood up with a sigh before asking for their orders and walking away to the front desk.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Stephanie turned back towards Danny.

"So Danny, ever dated a supervillain?"

Duke groaned. "That is not a good icebreaker question, Steph."

"Uh, No?" Danny answered. "Though I know their parents actually considered me a bad influence."

"What do you mean?"

Danny winced, he really wasn't selling himself well for this boyfriend thing. At least neither of them looked too judgemental. “The two people I dated last, well their parents didn’t really like me. My family’s a bit weird and I guess I wasn’t the best behaved in school so they thought I was a bad influence,” Danny said as he thought of Sam and Val’s parents.

"That sounds like it must've sucked," Stephanie said, sympathetic.

“Don’t worry about it, bud," Duke said. "The only one you need approval from is Alfie and as long as you don’t try and hurt Damian, he’ll like you.”

“You think so?”

“For sure little dude.”

“You guys are really nice,” Danny said with a smile. “I had hoped it would be different this time since Damian’s mom seemed to like me well enough, but I wasn’t sure about his dad."

Duke choked. “Sorry went down the wrong pipe," he coughed out.

“Damian’s mom?” Stephanie asked a little louder than Danny would've thought was warranted.

“Yeah, Ms. Talia? She was super nice, she even told me a baby story," Danny explained.

“She- what?”

Though Duke did a better job of hiding it, the surprise in the two teenagers face couldn’t be mistaken. Danny hesitated. “Is that a bad sign?”

“Not that I know of?” the blonde equivocated.

“It’s just that Talia usually has… high standards, For who Damian should interact with,” Duke said. “Not to call her a snob but she’s really proud of their family name.”

“She was really nice to me though,” Danny said. “She called me charming.”

“Hm. Are you secretly a prince, Danny?” Stephanie asked mock-seriously. “No, more importantly for Talia, could you take over the world and lay it at Damian’s feet?”

“Uh,” Danny stammered as his mind stalled.

“Stop teasing him,” Duke said as he pulled Steph back. “Damian will actually murder us if we scare his boyfriend away.”

“As if Danny could be chased away by the likes of you,” Damian said as he sat back down.

“Damian!” Danny greeted with a smile and admittedly a decent amount of relief.

Damian had ordered as quickly as he could in order to come back to the table quickly. Stephanie and Duke were a better option than Drake but they were still bats which meant they were incredibly nosy. Stephanie barely gave him time to sit down before she got her phone out.

“Now that you’re back, squeeze in so I can take a selfie for Cass.”

As they did so, Danny turned towards Damian. "Who is that?"

“Cassandra is my sister, she is currently in Hong Kong,” Damian explained as he slid closer to Stephanie. The latter took the picture before sending it.

“Is she travelling?” Danny asked, as he settled back.

“No, it’s for work,” Steph said before letting out a dramatic sigh. “I miss her so goddam much. Long-distance relationships are hard.”

Something in her pocket beeped and she got her phone out to check. Whatever she saw had her sighing in annoyance, before she stood up. “We gotta go,” she said as she grabbed Duke to get up too. “It was nice meeting you, Danny. You and Damian make a really cute couple.”

The last comment had Danny flushing slightly.

“Sorry we couldn’t stay longer,” Duke said. “You should come by for dinner. Meet Alfred and the rest.” He winked.

As they walked away, Steph groaned. “If Dick is intentionally taking us away because he didn’t get the chance to come along, I swear I’m going straight for his cereals.”

They quickly suited up from one of their cache before meeting up on the coordinates, that Dick had sent which was five minutes of grapple away. The man was dressed as Batman and waiting for them.

“Thanks for coming guys, there was a breakout. Only one escapee but he was quick to get to work,” Dick said as he gestured to the side of the building, where both vigilantes looked down onto a bloody display.

“Aw, Jeez,” Signal moaned. “Could you give a little warning next time.”

Spoiler only narrowed her eyes before spitting a word out. “Zsasz.”

Dick nodded.

“Who?”

“Victor Zsasz. Serial killer, sadist and awful human being,” Dick said.

“He’s a creep who likes to cut up women and children,” Steph stated flatly.

“He did this early this morning, and we’re thinking he might kill soon if his previous patterns are to be believed.”

“You want us to snoop around to see if anyone’s seen him to try and catch him before that?” Duke asked.

Dick nodded in assent before continuing, “I’d like for us to stay in pairs. With Bruce out of town and this psycho on the streets I’m installing a buddy system.”

“Robin is going to hate that,” Steph said.

“I don’t know, I think his boyfriend can keep him plenty occupied.” Duke elbowed the blonde as he waggled his eyebrows.

“Stop bragging guys. I really wanted to meet him” Dick complained, dropping his Batman voice for the first time. “I hate putting on this stupid suit.”

“Sucks to suck,” Steph mocked. Before she got her grapple gun out and swung away with a laugh.

“Here goes my buddy, better get going,” Duke said before swinging away with a little wave too.

Dick, left alone let the pout settle on his face as he muttered, “Little D better bring him to supper soon.”

Here we go for the tags:) @u-a-wizard-jamie @akikkobara @michealawithana @littlefeather345 @all-eyes-no-dragon @the-legal-shipper @confusionchaos @spectralstardustandphantomnights @mothman-the-mothman87 @crystalice067 @heartsong18 @skulld3mort-1fan @emeraudesfateandfandoms @illusionwolfwriter24r8 @jaggedheart11 @naluforever3 @addie-lover-of-stories @edgyboi10000 @thegatorsgoose @chaos-n-kindness @56thingsinaname @draconicdumbass @icedbluesoul @lizisipancardo @inth3world @emergentpanda-blog @addie-lover-of-stories @8-29pm @mj-arts-n-stuff @roman4517 @basementloser @paperlicense687 @vythika96 @coruscateselene @meira-3919 @lizisipancardo @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @mistyaltair @coruscateselene @fisticuffsatapplebees @larkcoe1 @blep-23 @pigeon-toby @lazy-bouqet @nexux-point @someonebored0100 @plant5318008 @admiralwidow @chrysanthemum9484 @shadow-otaku20 @coruscateselene @gildedphoenix @larkcoe1 @phoenixdemonqueen @nottmuchtopost @overtherose @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @sleepy-writes-stuff @sometimesthingsfallapart @nappinginhell @crystallicedart @lyra689 @agirlandagraveyard @allukaintokoy @somecrappyclone @tinybrie @punz4daze

Damian does not know how he has got into such a mess.

That was a lie.

Like most messes in his life, it all started with his family and their constant “ribbing”.

‘They act as if gaining a date was not easy,’

Damian glared as he scouted out a suitable target in the mall.

Sitting alone by the arcade there was an attractive boy on his phone.

Acceptable.

Making his way next to his target, he sat down and tapped his shoulder.

The other boy flinched and subtly (though not to someone as trained as him) glanced Damian over, eyes seeming to catalog instinctively.

Good, not perfect but admissible all things considered.

“Uh hi.?”

“Your age.”

“Pardon?”

“What is your age?”

“16.?”

Damian nodded as he mulled over the information. About a year his senior, not ideal but still viable.

“ Date me.”

“Excuse me??”

“I will pay you for your inconvenience of course but I am in need of a date and you are the most suitable person I have seen so far.”

“Wait a minute-“

“Here is your first payment.”

Damian handed the boy the envelope he had prepared for today and had to hold back a smirk as he saw they other boy’s eyes widen.

“I-“

“I will pay you monthly with bonuses for any extremely taxing events that may occur if you agree.”

“I- I guess?”

“Good, now give me your number and I will contact you for our first date. My name is Damian Wayne.”

“Danny..”

~~~~~~

For all purposes the agreement has only worked in his favor.

His family was off his back, galas were less boring and they even shared common interests.

That being said,

“You did not need to give me a gift Daniel, it was not a requirement.”

Damian looked down at the katana shaped keychain he was handed, it was well made and surprisingly sharp.

“I know Dami, but it just reminded me of you!”

What a mess indeed…

[bit-dodgy-innit]

Un Pequeño Enamoramiento (A Little Crush)

(Gif is not mine - if it’s yours lmk and I’ll credit you!)

Part of my 500 Follower Celebration set in my SHAPE OF YOU AU

The Prompt: Your mom has a crush on Jake and his Latino charm.

Requested by: my not secret love @my-secret-shame

Pairing: Jake x afab!reader, with Marc x afab!reader and Steven x afab!reader,  Reader is engaged to the system, references to past Marc x Layla 

Word Count: 2.9k 

Spice-o-meter: 🌶🌶 - Rated M, references to sexual content and non-graphic depictions of sex 

CW/TW: mentions of abuse, divorce, references to societal judgement regarding D.I.D, mentions of penetrative and oral sex, as well as anal play (hola it’s Jake after all), and thirsty middle-aged women 

A/N: Ohohohoho this came out angstier than I thought it would, but you know I can never get too dark without having fun too! Also remember in the Shape of You, reader’s parent love the boys, but I thought it could be interesting to see how they got there. 

Having your significant other meet your parents tends to be an anxiety-inducing experience, one made even more treacherous by the fact that your boyfriend had Dissociative Identity Disorder, a checkered past as a mercenary, and a failed married under his belt. Marc, as wonderful and considerate as he was, was a tough sell on paper. 

The first time you introduced your then-boyfriend to your parents, you had tried to get them to go easy on Marc, sharing that he didn’t have a relationship with his family anymore, in addition to personally attesting to the growth he’d shown after his divorce. 

It sort of worked. At the very least, your parents steered clear of asking Marc about his, but your dad deployed precisely zero tact when he questioned Marc on why he’d gotten divorced. Your boyfriend handled it like a champ, sitting next to you wearing the blazer you knew hated, answering their questions as honestly as he could, and insisting on paying for dinner. 

But you’d definitely noticed that Marc had been drinking. And not just his customary couple of beers after a long day of work, your boyfriend steadily put down several glasses of hard alcohol. Even crazier was how little he seemed to be affected by the veritable bottle of Jack he’d just pumped into his system. He hadn’t slurred even a single word.  

You had tried to referee the dinner as best as you could and did everything within your means to support Marc afterwards. But he was withdrawn the rest of the evening, responding to all of your questions and affirmations of love monosyllabically. He even turned down your offer to deep throat him in gratitude for pushing through what must have been an intense and maybe triggering meal for him. You went to bed in silence and the next morning, you woke up next to Steven. 

Marc needed space and time to process, you knew this, but it still frustrated you that he wouldn’t so much as share, let alone work through, his feelings with you. Though, he had done something major for you and your relationship last night, you could give him a minute. Thankfully a fire at work helped distract you in the short-term. 

Your mom met you for lunch near your office that afternoon, and when your respective cups of tea and salads arrived, the first thing she said about the night before was, “I can see why you like him. He’s very handsome.”

“He is, but I don’t just like him, mom. I’m in love with him and we’re building a life together.” Geez, couldn’t your mom give you a little credit? You didn’t love Marc only because you were shallow and a whore for his thick cock. 

She winced, and not because her beverage was too hot. “Sweet pea, he seems like a great guy, but it’s clear he has a lot of baggage.” 

You nearly spit your tea out. She had no idea. 

“That’s a lot for you to also shoulder as well, and not just emotionally. If you two get married, there’ll be financial and legal implications. Stuff like that can bubble up in really ugly ways years down the line.”

“I know. I know all of his baggage, and he knows all of mine, and we love and accept each other for it,” you kept going to prevent your mother from interjecting, “and, not that it’s really any of your business, but Marc is…working on what he needs to. Mom, we both want the same things, and besides, I want you to like him, but if you don’t, that’s not going to stop me from marrying him.”

“Oh I’m well aware,” she huffed. Your mom was one to talk, after all you inherited your stubbornness from her. “So you two have discussed getting married?” 

“Yes,” you replied instantly, you wanted there to be no room for doubt, on your parents but also on your end too. Because despite being on the same page with your boyfriend about the next step in your relationship, a ring had yet to appear. “And he hasn’t run for the hills. I wish…Marc takes a minute to warm up. I think it would be good for you to meet him again. Maybe we could have you over for lunch this weekend, and he and Dad can watch a game or something. My gut says last night spooked him, plus he really wanted to make a good impression, but then Dad went and grilled him about his ex-wife.” 

Your mom agreed that a second go was the right move. They came over Sunday, and once she could see your boyfriend in a less stuffy environment, and he started talking baseball with your dad, all was well. 

***

Even though your parents had accepted Marc, they needed a lot of prep before they met his alters. You knew it was only natural that they had a lot of questions, D.I.D. was so stigmatized and sensationalized in the media, and that had been their only exposure. They became much more open to understanding when Marc gave you permission to explained that he’d suffered so much loss and trauma as a child (they didn’t ever need to know about mercenary work and the stint with Khonshu).

To be honest, you weren’t sure how you would’ve reacted if you knew Marc had D.I.D. upfront. Now, you couldn’t imagine life without Steven and Jake. They were your boys, who all adored and supported you in their distinct and equally beautiful ways. 

Several emailed articles and hour-long conversations later, you believed your parents were ready to meet your other lovers. The introductions would take place when you and your now fiancé spent the holidays with them. You had strategized both with your parents and the boys who should meet who first and how it should all go down. So detailed was your planning, it made D-Day look like the Allies winged it at Normandy. 

Though you knew it would take your mom and dad exactly .23 seconds to fall in love with Steven just like you had, Jake had actually volunteered to go first. His reasoning was “I’m great with moms.” 

You had no clue what that meant, especially given Marc’s dark past with his mother, but he wanted to do it and you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Mom and Dad were briefed that Jake would be arriving with you, and when they welcomed you into your childhood home with the customary fanfare, you were so nervous you wanted to laugh, cry, and vomit all at the same time.

Turned out you had nothing to worry about however, because Jake had been right. He was great with moms. He greeted yours with a double cheek-kiss, called her Señora, and the woman fucking melted. 

“We’re so happy you’re here,” she giggled (fucking giggled!), “thanks for making the trek. Hopefully it wasn’t too much of a hassle.”

You were too shocked to be annoyed that your own mother hadn’t said hello to you yet. Instead, you looked at your dad flabbergasted. He acknowledged your surprise, murmuring “she did always love Antonio Banderas,” and then promptly dismissed it with a shrug. 

Your mom claimed that she absolutely needed to show you to your room, as if it wasn’t the bedroom you’d slept in until you left for uni and could find it blindfolded. You suspected it was because she wanted to watch Jake carry your suitcases, which…fair. The four of you fancied yourselves quite modern in your relationship, all very much considering each other as partners, but there was something primally tantalizing about watching a hot, strong man carry something heavy for you. 

It was only after Jake had bent over to place your suitcases down and got an eyeful of his denim-clad ass that your mom noticed your engagement ring, having never seen it in person before. 

“Oh sweet pea, it’s stunning!” She gazed at Jake from underneath her eyelashes. “You chose beautifully.” 

“Thank you,” he preened. 

“De nada,” she said, flaunting one of the whopping ten Spanish words she knew. 

“Muy bien!” Jake commended her. 

Finally, finally, she left you two alone to get settled and you faceplanted onto the bed as soon as the door shut.  

“I told you so.” Smug, sexy bastard. 

You turned so you could see him. “It beats the alternative I guess.” 

“Just watch,” Jake began while he unzipped his suitcase, “I’ll help cook dinner and have her eating out of the palm of my hand.” 

“As long as it’s not literally,” you retorted. 

Your cheekiness compelled him to pounce on top of you, the two of you rolling around your bed (thank goodness you’d upgraded to a queen as a teenager) and trading giggly, giddy kisses atop it. 

“I’m happy you’re here,” you whispered, trying to nuzzle impossibly closer to him.

“Yo también,” he concurred, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. “Other than the basics, your parents can’t speak Spanish, si?” 

“Si,” you confirmed. “Only me.” 

“Fantástico. Para que pueda decir lo que quiera delante de ellos, como lo mucho que quiero follarte en esta cama.”

“Jake!” you reproached him. 

“Lo siento,” he apologized half-heartedly, pushing himself off the bed, “Vamos y podemos ayudar tu madre con la cena.”

“Bien,” you consented. “Tengo mucho hambre.” 

Jake was so damn charming and delightful over the next two days he was nearly laying it on too thick. You were thrilled your parents, specifically your mom, approved of him, but there was a perverse little jealous part of you that couldn't help but wonder how they’d feel if your parents knew what your fiancé did to their daughter behind closed doors, and in his past life as an avatar. 

Yet when Jake’s three days of the trip were up – the plan was each alter would front exclusively for a third of the trip, Jake first, Steven second, and Marc last – you understood exactly why your fiancé had gone to such lengths to ingratiate himself with your family. When Steven came downstairs with you for breakfast on his first morning, your parents barely batted an eyelash. 

Marc had shared that historically, Jake had been the system’s protector. He was the one who took over when Marc or Steven had been overwhelmed, and you were shocked to learn that the other two men had only learned of his existence about a year or so before you met Marc. 

Jake’s actions made perfect sense. Even though your parents had left in a good place with Marc during their last visit, he wanted to make sure they couldn’t hold his D.I.D. against them. Jake would warm them up to the idea of three men existing inside of the body their daughter loved so Steven and Marc could have just a smooth visit as he did with their future in-laws. 

Your mom raved about him when the two of you went for an early walk. Your dad had a last-minute work call and Jake was dozing after the morning head you’d treated him to for being fiancé-extraordinaire.

“Oh honey,” she gushed. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this but, he’s so…sexy, but such a gentleman too!” 

“Right?” You’d decided the first night of the stay to not fight your mom’s crush on Jake. “Just wait until you meet Steven tomorrow, he’s just as wonderful, but in a different way.” 

“You know, I can hardly believe they’re all technically the same person,” she mused, then caught herself. “Not that they’re not their own people but they share—“

“I get it,” you cut her short to let her know it was okay. “I always tell them how different they look.”

“It can’t be easy, loving essentially three different people like that,” she remarked, surprising you with her unexpectedly astute observation. 

“I mean, yes and no,” you replied. It was beyond difficult for you to put into words. “They’re all their own people but each part of a whole at the same time. It was definitely an adjustment. But now I wouldn’t want it any other way.” 

“You make a beautiful couple,” she told you, and her endorsement of the man you loved nearly brought you to tears in front of your neighbors' house. 

***

That night, your parents had a bunch of family over, and you instructed them to introduce your fiancé as Jake and just leave it at that for the time being. It was the holidays, so the alcohol was flowing even more freely than usual, so it really wasn’t a problem. Your extended family, God love ‘em, were never great with names to begin with and you could always tell them that when Marc was drunk his accent came out. 

It wasn’t that you were trying to hide or were ashamed of his D.I.D., but you and your fiancé were realistic about how other people would perceive it and him. It was often easier and less stressful to breeze past the tough conversations and protect your lovers’ peace if you didn’t think others would receive the information in a healthy way. 

One of your relatives had turned on the stereo and somehow the younger cousins, including you and Jake, were dancing in your parent’s living room. Dancing with Jake was one of your very favorite things to do, and while you didn’t get to do enough of it, the pair of you kept it tame given the setting. 

But when Jake showed off a little and twirled you, you couldn’t help but be transported to the dark, sultry underground salsa club the two of you first met at. Sex seemed to pulse in the air along with the bass and writhing bodies there, and it wasn’t long before you and this beguiling stranger who wore the same face as Marc and Steven joined them. After a few hours at that place, you hadn’t just ridden in Jake’s car home, you’d rode him in the car, the whole night blurring into a mix of tequila, salsa music, and sweat. 

The song ended and Jake whispered a question to you, his lips brushing against the delicate skin of your earlobe and making you shiver. You gave him your blessing and when he asked your mom to dance, you figured maybe you could tell her that Jake used to kill on behalf of an Egyptian god and loved to stick his fingers into your asshole because she was smitten with Jake Lockley. 

His dance partner now occupied, your dad engaged you in a little step touch together. He caught you watching your mom and fiancé with shining eyes. 

“He sure does make you happy,” he observed. 

“Yeah.” 

“And he respects you?” 

“Mmmhmmm.” 

“Good.” 

Your father wasn’t a man of many words, but he knew how to make them count. It made you chuckle to yourself, he was a big softie, but the boys revealed that despite saving the world from a power-hungry Egyptian goddess and literally dying, fulfilling the tradition of asking your father for your hand was one of the scariest things they’d ever done in their life. 

The song ended and you were reunited with your fiancé. He collected you in his arms as a slower, quieter song filled your parent’s living room. 

“You’re quite a tough act to follow Jake Lockley,” you noted while you gazed over his shoulder at your mother, still a bit flustered after her dance with him. 

“Disparates,” he dismissed the notion. “Estarán bien mientras no se pierdan en su propia cabeza.”

It was where Jake differed from his alters. Where Marc and Steven had their unique ways of wrapping themselves around their respective axles and overthinking things, Jake would simply act. He seemed to be more in tune with his instincts, though his tendency toward action could push the envelope toward impulsivity at times. 

“Well, you did a buen trabajo setting the stage for them,” you praised him. 

“Yeah, tell them to thank me, will you?” Jake pulled you closer to amend his previous thought.  “Or better yet, you could thank me for them.” 

“You’re insatiable,” you accused him blithely.  

Jake lips returned to your ear. “Y tú lo encantas.”

As much as you tried to deny it, he was right. Instead of admitting it, you turned your head to connect your lips and whispered “Te amo.” 

“Vamos arriba,” Jake entreated you, his gravelly tone irresistible.

Yet after you excused the two of you, you caught sight of your cousin Rachel as you and Jake were heading up. She beckoned you outside where she and her boyfriend Todd were having a covert couple of beers away from the barrage of questions from your relatives. You joined them, postponing your private expression of gratitude to Jake. 

He didn’t altogether mind, because for once you didn’t give him shit when he had a cigarette with Todd, plus you had all night to sneak in some sex. Mostly though, he was just happy to see you at ease and that he perhaps could be integrated into your family after all. 

Jake, nor Steven or Marc had had a family in a long time, and so he was relieved he took a step closer to joining yours. It was a terrifying proposition to them, especially Marc, but if you were by their side, any of them would walk through fire, go to the Duat and back, or hell, take another bullet or two. Thankfully, tonight merely called for schmoozing with your extended family, and Jake was happy to do it. 

A/N: Wooo! Slowly plowing through these fills! Hope the angst made the sweetness and spiciness worth it. We can’t blame reader’s mom, can we? Also, anyone else need more of Sr. Hernandez and ethnic hips dancing on screen? Because I’ll write and finance one just for him 🙃 

Taglist: @twwcs, @rmoonstoner, @hot-mess-express1, @murdickdocked, @toracainz, @saahmi, @unspokenmoon, @winterbiipp, @avatarofseshat @ilikeoldermenhelp , @losers-club6, @harrys-tittie, @ninebluehearts, @lucianadraven32, @dawnsutopia, @strawberry1042, @nikitawolfxo 

Translations: 

De nada - you’re welcome 

Muy bien - very good 

Yo también - Me too 

Si - yes 

Fantástico. Para que pueda decir lo que quiera delante de ellos, como lo mucho que quiero follarte en esta cama. - Fantastic. So I can say whatever I want in front of them, like how much I want to fuck you in this bed. 

Lo siento - I’m sorry 

Vamos y podemos ayudar tu madre con la cena -  Let’s go and help your mother with dinner. 

Bien - Okay 

Tengo mucho hambre - I am very hungry 

Disparates - Nonsense 

Estarán bien mientras no se pierdan en su propia cabeza. - They’ll be good as long as their don’t get lost in their own head. 

 buen trabajo - good job 

Y tú lo encantas - And you love it. 

Te amo - I love you 

Vamos arriba - Let’s go upstairs 

[crazycookiecrumbles]

A Power Struggle (Part 1)

A/N: So this will be a two-parter at the least! Probably won’t go beyond that. Lemme know what you think?

Pairing: Shang-Chi x Stark!Reader; Platonic!Bucky x Stark!Reader; Platonic!Sam x Stark!Reader

Warnings: swearing, flirting/innuendos, threats, endgame references, 

Summary: Sam and Bucky requested your help in figuring out who the Power Broker is, and against your better judgement, you decie to do some undercovr work (that you hate) with your boyfriend who was now pretending to have taken his father’s place.

“Babe, have you seen my glasses?”

You raised an eyebrow and stopped putting on your earrings. Glasses? Since when did Shangqi wear glasses? As far as you knew, this man had perfect vision. What the fuck did he need glasses for?

“You own glasses?” You retorted as you shook out of your daze and finished getting ready.

The two of you were dressed in your best tonight. Why? You and Shangqi were going undercover as a favor to your two obnoxious best friends, Sam and Bucky. Why you were doing this you were half unsure and half pre-regretful of this decision. Sam and Bucky were trying to find leads on someone called a Power Broker. Given Shangqi’s connection to the ten rings, your dad being a Stark with a questionable past in weapons, and your own legacy, they figured the two of you would be perfectly shady to enter the criminal underworld together in Madripoor, especially given their, well, their last visit wasn’t the best.

“Yes, actually, I do own glasses,” you could hear him as he  walked towards the bathroom. You nodded to yourself and reached for your compact to finish your makeup. When Shangqi entered the bathroom and you saw his reflection in the mirror, you dropped your compact in the sink and couldn’t be bothered to see if the powder broke. 

“You do own glasses,” You blurted out, staring at him a little too hard in the reflection. You saw him start to grin as he stood behind you and slipped his arms around your waist to pull you against his chest.

“You like the glasses,” he smirked.

“No. They’re just, whatever. There.”

Shangqi could not stop smirking, “You think I look good in glasses.”

“Not at all. I actually think you look like a massive dweeb and this isn’t attractive.”

“No?” He hummed and slowly started to lean down to lick the shell of your ear, “Well, how about —“

“Please tell me y’all are not fucking in the bathroom,” Sam groaned as his footsteps were heard approaching the bathroom. You huffed and tilted your head back to rest on your boyfriend’s shoulder while he stood taller and looked towards the doorway. Sam stopped and looked him over, “Dude. I would not hire you to do any crimes.”

“What do you mean?”

“Yo, man, look at this,” Sam waved over Bucky who had more interest in making sure Sam did not drink his whiskey than he did this conversation. Reluctantly, he walked over and shoved Sam slightly out of the way to get a look.

“Wow, professor,” Bucky snickered. “Trying to coax her into an extra credit assignment or something?”

“What—but I— I look great!” He argued. “This is the nicest suit I have! And that was just because the tailors were thankful I stopped them from getting robbed when I went for a fitting.”

Bucky sighed and looked to you, “Really? You think this is okay for undercover?”

“As himself, sure,” you replied as you grabbed your makeup to finish up and put it away. “As the new holder of the ten rings, well…”

Shangqi pouted, “Really?”

“You look amazing. But I trust you dressed like that,” You explained. “You really should look more like —“

“A shady bastard,” Sam finished. “Okay. Maybe between the three of us we can put something together for you.”

“That’s fine. I packed an extra suit. Second compartment of my bag,” You said easily, prompting all men to look at you. You scoffed, “Tony and Pepper in my lives for how long, and neither one of you think I would plan ahead or have a very strong opinion on clothes?”

Bucky shrugged, “She’s got a point.”

~*~

Shangqi changed into the new outfit, a completely black suit, no glasses, and his hair slicked to the side and perfectly parted. The sleeves for his shirt and jacket were pushed up revealing the rings on his forearms, and the sight made you walk straight into a wall.

“You dork,” Bucky howled with laughter.

“Damn, Stark, thirsty?” Sam cackled.

You hated them.

Shangqi smirked and leaned down so his lips were ghosting over yours, “Going to pretend like you don’t like this one too?”

You huffed, “So help me, if we don’t get to come back here and do deplorable things, I’m going to be so mad.”

He winked at you and stole a quick kiss. The two of you slipped on your earpieces. You studied the dossier once more to remember who you were looking for, and then slipped a tiny camera disguised as a pin in your hair. Together, you and Shangqi climbed into your rental and made your way to the club.

“Katy would die,” He muttered as he slipped into the driver’s seat. “She’s going to be so pissed she’s not here to drive this.”

“To be fair, we offered, but her grandmother guilted her, and I can’t go against a grandmother’s guilt,” You shrugged.

“No one can. She’s adorable,” He admitted as he drove.

~*~

When you both arrived, he threw the keys at the valet, and you could practically feel the pain in him as he did such a thing to a fellow valet. You snorted to yourself and patted his forearm as the both of you stood by the entrance. There was a giant crowd there, but once someone caught sight of who you two were, the crowd shifted. There were murmurs as they all stared at Shangqi and the rings on his arms.

But the concern came from you and what you typically stood for. A large, heavyset guard began to approach you telling you to leave, but before he could enter your space, Shangqi’s hand came out, a fist pressing lightly against the man’s chest as he warned him to back off.

“She’s not allowed here,” he explained.

“She’s with me.” Shangqi said easily, “Can’t you see my invite?”

The rings glowed and the man hesitated for a moment before stepping aside. Shangqi smirked and shoved him even further before holding your hand and leading you up the stairs.

“Honey,” you whispered quietly. “When this is over, I am going to rock your—“

“It’s an open comm-link!” Bucky shouted in your ear to stop you from saying anything too graphic for his delicate ears. “I don’t want to hear that.”

Shangqi winked at you, “Think you’ll be okay in here?”

“I got this,” you nodded comfortably and walked to the bar.

Shangqi seemed to be enjoying this playing the 'bad guy’ role a little too much. He asked where you wanted to sit and you pointed at a random spot, not really caring. Shangqi walked over, told them to leave and then pulled out a chair for you. As you sat down you whispered, “You’re a little too good at this.”

He nodded, “I know. I’m just doing what I think my dad would’ve done.”

He made eye contact with a bartender, snapped his fingers, pointed at the table, and someone came running over. They offered a bottle of Cristal and Shangqi deferred to you. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “Do you know who I am?” You asked, and watched them nod hesitantly. “Then you know what I want.”

“I don’t —“

Shangqi grabbed him by the arm a little too tightly, “Your best rum. Leave the bottle.”

He ran off and you could hear groans in your earpiece.

“God, (Y/N). You are so corny,” Sam groaned.

“Shut up,” You hissed and looked around.

“Hold on, that’s your mark.” Bucky said, and you and Shangqi were quiet as you listened to him, “Boy toy’s six, purple velvet blazer. That’s Power Broker’s new mouthpiece. Calls himself Skelly.”

Shangqi cringed at the dumb name, “Why?”

“He likes to leave a clean skeleton behind of his marks. No one knows where all the flesh and stuff goes.”

“…Ew,” Shangqi muttered under his breath.

You sighed and nodded to the waiter who returned to your table. When he set the rum and two glasses down, you grabbed his wrist. Knowing who you were, you could feel the man tremble as he wondered if you were about to shatter every bone in his body. You smiled and slipped a sizable wad of cash into his hand. He thanked you profusely, sweat dripping down the side of his brow before he retreated.

“Those rings really command respect, huh?” You commented to your boyfriend who sat back in his seat, legs spread with one foot propped up on the seat next to his thigh, his other leg sticking straight out as he surveyed the area.

“It’s fear,” he explained. “Fear for over a thousand years.”

“…Bro, how old was your dad?” Sam asked.

“Is now the time?” Bucky scoffed.

“Shut up, losers,” You muttered to yourself. “Skelly’s looking this way. I’m getting serious wants-to-carve-me-alive vibes from him.”

“He’ll have to get through me, first,” Shangqi muttered.

Bucky and Sam continued to groan and gag over the communications link, making you seriously consider getting rid of the earpiece. Before you could tell them to shut up again, you noticed that Skelly was making his way over to you. You cleared your throat, nodded to Shangqi, and chugged some of the rum before Skelly approached.

“Now isn’t this an interesting duo,” Skelly remarked. “(Y/N) Stark and…you. You are not Wenwu.”

Shangqi kept a straight face but narrowed eyes as he stared up at the man, “Xu Wenwu was my father. I’m Xu Shangqi. I run things now.”

“You run things now,” He repeated as he stared at him before sticking out his hand. “Good to meet you, Shangqi.”

Shangqi stared at the outstretched hand and did nothing but lift his own to bring the glass of rum to his lips. Taking a long sip, he set it down and stared up at the man who withdrew his hand, “What do you want?”

“I want to know why an Avenger is here,” He turned to glare at you.

You laughed, “Haven’t you heard? The Avengers are gone. I don’t do that anymore.”

“I find that hard to believe,” He began. “Iron Man’s daughter, Captain America’s whore, and I’m to believe you’ve left those good morals behind?”

“Oh, shit,” Sam sighed.

“Stark, do not kill him. Do not attack him!” Bucky warned, knowing you were about to break this guy’s face.

In what he was sure his father would do, Shangqi kicked Skelly’s knee in. When Skelly fell to bended knee, Shangqi grabbed him by the throat and lifted him just enough to slam him down to the ground and hold him there by the throat. You sighed and slipped out of your seat to crouch down beside Skelly.

“Sorry about him. He’s protective. You get used to it.” You went on to explain, “Everyone I loved is dead. And for what? Not even a thanks. So, yeah, my morals changed. All that good work for shit,” you stood up and sighed, “So, are we going to talk business or does my new man need to show you how he runs things now?”

Skelly offered a smile that reminded you of a shark. He tapped Shangqi’s arm twice, and the man reluctantly loosened his grip and let him go. Standing tall, Shangqi adjusted his suit while Skelly rubbed his own throat.

“Why don’t the two of you come back with me? There’s someone here whose business might interest the both of you,” he explained. “They hold a lot of power.”

Shangqi looked to you. You shrugged and nodded a shoulder. He nodded to you once before telling Skelly to lead the way. Shanqi outstretched one hand to you while shoving the other in his pocket. He pulled you close to his side, the action making you stumble just a bit into his side.

“Easy, tiger,” you muttered.

“Just making sure they know you’re mine,” Shangqi replied as you now realized how many eyes were watching the two of you. You wondered what that was about, but decided to let it go under the assumption that he was just really, really falling into his role of a bad guy.

You both walked down a narrow hallway, Shangqi walking behind you with a hand on your back so that no one could sneak up on the two of you, just in case this was a setup. Skelly stopped in front of a purple door and held the doorknob before looking over his shoulder at the two of you.

“Allow me to introduce you to the Power Broker.”

To be continued.

[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 

[mae-gi-writes]

Once Again (PT.4) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN | PART FOUR

Summary

Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother.

Genre: fluff, angst, f! Reader x dad! Iwaizumi

PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART

----

"Miss Y/N, is daddy okay?" Hoisuke peers up at you from the backseat as you pull up to your apartment unit. You glance at him through the rearview mirror and smile, "don't worry, he's fine. He's just going to be slightly late."

Iwaizumi had called you earlier that day, sounding breathless and stressed out as he iterated how slow traffic was moving. On impulse, you'd proposed to bring Hoisuke over to your house to make things more comfortable and after a slight bout of hesitation, he'd agreed to pick his son up in the comfort of your home.

"This is the first time I come to your place, miss Y/N," Hoisuke's eyes are darting back and forth across the tiny kitchenette to your right to the small tv screen plugged to the wall on the left. Granted, your flat is merely anything special and far from ready for unexpected guests. But the sharp curiosity gleaming in your student's eyes holds no judgement and for that you apprrciate him all the more.

"You hungry?" You ask while settling him down at your tiny dinner table compact enough to fit snuggly up to your kitchen counter.

Hoisuke purses his lips in thought and you swear he's learnt this facial expression from observing his father, "hm yeah. A little bit," before throwing you a sheepish grin.

So you whip up something simple; omelette rice with your special Korean chilli sauce as a sudden downpour splatters through the cityscape, the rain dancing to its own rhythm as it splatters over your windowpane. The TV plays in the background, a random cartoon that gets interrupted with Hoisuke's giggles and that ignites an affectionate smile on your lips as you chide himto eat. And you're not really sure why your chest feels tight and filled to the brim with comfort, but you realise you don't actually mind having the small human around that much.

Teachers aren't supposed to have favourites. But you admit to yourself that teachers are only human. And if you are to choose, Hoisuke would be one of yours.

"Miss Y/N, do you have a boyfriend?" Hoisuke's voice pierces through your thoughts and as you blink down at him, you shake your head, "no, I'm single as a pringle."

"You are not married then."

"No I'm not."

"Great!" Hoisuke jumps up on his seat, eyes twinkling with mischief, "then do you want to marry daddy?"

"What?" You laugh out, "it doesn't work that way Hoisuke."

"But I like you miss Y/N," he replies with the seriousness of a child wanting his way, "You'd be a great mum. Can you be my mum?"

"Oh gosh kiddo," your hand reachea out to ruffle his hair, heart twisting at how easily he leans into your touch, "I'd love to be your mum, but--"

"Then marry my dad," Hoisuke's mumble is muffled against your side. He unconsciously snuggles up to you and you caress the top of his head down to his nape, "daddy likes you too. He really likes you. You make him happy. He laughs a lot when you're around, and he doesn't get sad like he usually does when Mama is here."

"But that would be unfair to your mum wouldn't it?" You say softly, "you can't have two mums. She'll be upset."

There's a slight pause where you can see the cogs turning in his brain, "yeah," he says eventually, "but I don't really like going to Mama's anyway--"

The sound of your doorbell jolts you both to attention. You give Hoisuke's head one more ruffle before getting up to unlock the door.

Only to come face to face with none other than Hoisuke's mother.

You blink. Once. Twice. Unconsciously taking a step back.

She's pretty. Prettier up close, with those feline cat eyes and that full mouth that renders any man crazy. Standing a few inches higher than you, there is no doubt as to why Iwaizumi had fallen for her charms in the first place. She looks like the kind of woman that would still be elegant even dressed in a mechanician's uniform.

"H-Hello," your eyes dart from hers to a blank spot on the wall opposite, "can I help?"

"Where's Hoisuke?" Her voice is smooth, yet hard enough to make you wince.

"I--" your mind races. Isn't Iwaizumi supposed to pick him up? And how the hell does she know where you live?

She seems to read your face as she says, "I saw you with my son leaving the school. You're his...teacher, aren't you? I was waiting to pick him up."

"I thought Iwaizumi-san--"

"I don't need a reason to see my son," she arches her brows at you in a way that makes you want to crawl under a carpet and hide.

"Mama?" Hoisuke's voice floats from behind you, a tentative waver of nervousness as you hear him pad up to the door.

"Does Iwaizumi-san know you're picking him up?" You hope your tone is diplomatic, but the way her body tenses proves you otherwise, "You can tell him Hoisuke's with his mother," she nods at her child, "now come on Hoisuke. Let's go home."

Maybe feeling the tension in the air, Hoisuke merely shrinks back, "but it's Daddy that picks me up."

"Yes well, Daddy's not here now is he?" She gestures aggressively towards him, "now come on."

"Maybe we should wait until Iwaizumi-san gets here," you try to smooth things over, "he's on his way--"

"Don't tell me what to do with my child," Mizune snaps and without warning, grabbing hold of Hoisuke's arm before pulling him out of the flat. He resists.

"Mama no, let's wait for Daddy--"

"Daddy isn't coming. Now stop being so difficult," she doesn't relent against the way her son twists and kicks at the ground while you stand there, mind blind with panic because you've never actually had to deal with such a situation before.

"Mama please!" Hoisuke cries out with a sob.

You want to move. You urge yourself to. But your feet won't budge. It's like you're rooted in place.

Hoisuke has started crying at this point and in an attempt to smoothen things out, you try again by saying, "I'm sure we can all calm down and talk this out. As a teacher, I cannot--"

"That's right," Mizune's feline pupils narrow down on you, making you flinch at the rage simmering through those dark orbs, "you're his teacher. And as a teacher, you should know how to keep your boundaries. You're not his mother and you never will be. So fucking stay out of my family's life."

The words burn as they etch themselves into memory and you can only watch, hand clutched to the door as Mizune drags her crying son away. His cries are loud enough that they bounce throughout the corridor and keeps resonating even when he's long gone, as you try to comb through the last fifteen minutes where everything has turned upside down.

Fucking stay out of my family's life.

Your brain reels. Your heart feels heavy. You don't know what to do, what to say.

And Mizune's words are as sharp as a knife.

Don't tell me what to do with my child.

A sob slowly catches the back of your throat, eyes slowly brimming with an onset of tears.

You're not his mother.

The truth hurts. You know that Hoisuke is not your child, know that all this time it's merely Iwaizumi and his son, and then you watching on the sidelines. But hearing the cold rejection thrust in your face hurts more than you'll admit.

You aren't quite sure how long you stand there gazing into the empty corridor as if if you will it hard enough, Hoisuke will come running back to you. It is only when a familiar alto reaches your ears that you snap back to attention:

"Y/N?"

Jerking at the sound and looking up to see none other than Iwaizumi, drenched and breathless, standing a few feet away from you, your breath hitches in warning.

He closes the distance between you, frowning upon noticing the tears at the corner or your eyes, "what's wrong? Where is Hoisuke--"

"I'm..." your eyes drop to the ground, "I'm sorry," your whimper is barely above a whisper and you feel him move closee, his hand gently grasping your arm.

"Y/N?" His voice is gentle, though ragged and breathy, "what happened?"

It's probably the gentlest he's ever been with you. Turning away to cup your mouth with your hand, your teeth clamp down onto your lower lip in hopes of keeping the emotion from spilling over.

"Mizune came," you murmur out, "she took Hoisuke home."

There's a sharp intake of breath on his part. A pause, "how did--"

"She followed us."

Iwaizumi lets out a sigh as he moves towards you and you stagger back to hide your tears, but it proves useless when his hand grasps your arm to pull your hand away.

Deep brown mocha meet yours. Your throat tightens.

"Sorry," you breathe out a forced chuckle but it's clear from Iwaizumi's face that he's spotted your tears, and that he just knows that there is something bothering you.

But he doesn't ask. Doesn't question your intent or your feelings.

Instead, he pulls you close, close enough you're stumbling into him, before his hand wounds around the back of your head and presses you against his shoulder.

It shocks you, the sudden intimacy of his touch. His citrus smell once again invades your space and you can't find it in yourself to keep on holding on before you break down.

Maybe it's because you had felt-- at this point in time -- that you were someone significant in Hoisuke and Iwaizumi's life that you're not crying into Iwaizumi's shoulder as if everything is going downhill in your life. But you're comforted by the casual way he holds you with his head turned away so that you can bury yourself in the crook of his collarbone.

"Sorry," you manage to mumble out after you've managed to calm down. He's moved you back into your flat and has sat you down onto your kitchen chair, having rummaged through your utensils to bring you a cup of water that you sip on gratefully, if only to act as a distraction from the way he's gazing at you.

Iwaizumi shakes his head silently, looks away and clears his throat, "I'm gonna call her. You good?"

You nod and after searching your face for a few more seconds, he slides out of his seat and walks away with the device already presses to his ear. Bowing your head and gulping down the rest of the water, you manage to block out his angry alto resonating through the compact space as you focus on regaining control of yourself. You rarely fall to pieces like that, rarely give in to the downward pull of your emotions because the nature of your job obliges you to.

"Y/N."

You jump involuntarily and look up to see the said man sporting a frown, "is Hoisuke okay?" You ask.

"He's fine," a sigh escapes his lips as he slides back into the chair as if there's a weight pressing down onto his shoulders, "I'll pick him up tomorrow after school."

You nod. Good, the last thing you need is for Hoisuke to be disrupted by problems that don't concern him.

When he speaks next though, his alto is hoarse and thick, "I'm sorry Y/N. You don't deserve to get in the middle of all this."

"It's okay."

His eyes pierce yours with burning hot intensity, causing your gaze to drop to your fists laying across the table, knuckles so tight they're turning white.

A bout of silence ensues, lest for the pounding in your heart while your thoughts take on a tumultous turn for the worse. What if Mizune is angry? What if she stops Hoisuke from coming to school altogether? What if she makes her child move just for the sake of keeping him away from his teacher who can't seem to keep her nose out of anyone's business? What if--

Warmth floods your hands so suddenly that it interrupts your train of thought. Head jerking up in surprise to see Iwaizumi's hands clasp yours, your blood suddenly pulses through your limbs upon feeling his thumb gently stroke over your knuckles.

Iwaizumi is not a man of words. That much you know, but this evening has been full of surprises for you both. So you force yourself to relax, almost enjoying the gentlest of his touches fluttering across your skin.

"How," your words are choked, "how angry is she?"

"That doesn't matter."

"But what if--"

"None of this is your fault, Y/N," he replies firmly, followed by a gentle squeeze, "whatever you have cooking in that head of yours, stop."

Nodding and sighing in defeat, you lapse into a more comfortable silence as the time dwindles on. It's different to have someone else occupying your flat, considering that you've gotten so used to living along after your horrible breakup. A good kind of different.

When you bid him goodbye that evening -- granted you shall wake up with dark circles and puffy eyes the next day -- he suprises you with another casual, one-armed hug which signifies so much more for the usually reserved man, Hoisuke's bag hanging loosely from the other. He holds you close, his grip strong and secure and making you wish you can melt in a puddle of warmth at his feet, while his cheek pillows atop your temple against the side of your head. You lean in, cozy and warm, while his heart beats underneath your ear like a gentle drum easing you of today's worries and you wish you have the willpower to keep yourself away, in vain.

He pulls away slightly, mutters a soft "night" before a ghost of a kiss imprints itself on your temple.

Your breath hitches but the moment is gone all too son. He's already swivelling around and making his way down the corridor, leaving you to stare after him with a wild, raging heart.

You know, without a doubt, that you're already a little too skin-deep.

----

Iwaizumi is furious. Filled to the brim with a rage that's threatening to bubble over his insides.

He'd gone round to fetch Hoisuke in the morning as promised, just managing to keep himself from knocking his ex-wife's double mahogany doors down only to be greeted by that stupid bastard who'd stolen his wife away.

Todoka had always roamed within the same circle of friends as Iwaizumi and Mixune, having met under the same dormitory roof and sharing common sports interests. So imagine how big of a slap it was to hear that he'd been the one stealing kisses and sharing soft subtle touches with his wife behind his back.

"I could've driven him if only you'd let me," Mizune had told him as they waited for Hoisuke to finish brushing his teeth. is ex-wife's familiar soprano made him tense. Her face was a cold mask of indifference that covered up her silent anger. She'd folded her arms, chin jutted out and lips pursed, "he's my son too, you know."

"Was he still your son when you went and fucked Todoka?"

She'd sighed. As if dealing with the tantrum of a child, "Why are you bringing this up again?"

"Because you never put him first. Not when he threw his tantrums, not when he cried for you. Not even when he was sick," Iwaizumi spat out, the words tasting bitter upon his tongue.

"I had issues Hajime, you know that--"

"Like what? Like we weren't good enough for you? Like I wasn't pulling myself apart while you were out for nights on end?" Iwaizumi would've continued with an onslaught of pent-up statements if his son hadn't spoken out:

"Daddy?"

"Hey bud," Iwaizumi's anger had deflated like a hot air balloon, "you ready to go?"

And so he packed his son up in the car, his ex-wife watching his every move, and just after he'd closed his vehicle door did Mizune mention something about you.

"Do you like her?"

He'd bristled, "none of your business."

"Hoisuke is my son," Mizune's eyes had hardened into steel, "I don't need anyone else filling up his head with stupid ideas, nor do I want him to get hurt--"

"Like you did?" The words were fire burning upon his tongue. His shoulders were squared as he faced her fully, "stop beating around the bush, Mizune. We both know you hate the fact that Hoisuke loves spending time with Y/N."

"That's not it, I--"

"Y/N has spent more time with Hoisuke in a week than you did in a month. She's wiped his tears more timesthat you've seen him cry," he swivels towards his car then, "are we done?"

"You're acting like a child."

"I'm not the one picking a fight because of some petty jealousy," Iwaizumi had snapped.

"I'm not jealous!" Mizune burst out, her patience finally wearing thin, "I'm trying to look out for him, for you! She's not right for you--"

"Don't. Talk about her like that,” Anger had flared at how dismissively she spoke of you, visible as his knuckles tightened and a vein throbbed in his forehead, "and if you know what's good for you, you'll stay the fuck out of my life."

He'd driven off without looking back, knowing full well he'd shocked her into silence and if he were to be honest with himself, that outburst had eased some of the knots in his stomach. Dealing with Hoisuke's anxiety after witnessing yet another argument though, that was something else.

"Daddy, I don't understand why you and Mama fight so much," Hoisuke finally finds his voice when they stop inside the school gtounds. His small chubby hand, fitting into Iwaizumi's large one, cling to him with more force than necessary as they make their way to his respective class.

"Your mama and I...have different opinions on things," Iwaizumi tries to explain, suddenly guilty that his son has to pick up all the broken pieces. Impulsively, he ruffles Hoisuke's locks, "don't worry."

And that's when his son stops in mid-walk, looks him dead in the eye, and tells him, "Mama doesn't like miss Y/N, does she?"

It's a different kind of slap, but he shouldn't have understimated the little five year old. Children know much more than they let on snd here's the proof of it.

Iwaizumi allows both his hands to clasp Hoisuke's shoulders and bends down until they are face to face, "hey," dark mocha meets lighter caramel tinged with a fear of a child desperate for a family that all his friends can take for granted, "that doesn't matter. Do you like miss Y/N?"

Hoisuke nods, eyes wet.

Iwaizumi's heart swells and he swears he doesn't ever want to see that expression on his son's face, not if he can help it.

"Then it doesn’t matter what your Mom tells you," he squeezes the child's shoulder for good measure, "no one can boss you around and tell you that you're not allowed to like who you like," he brushes a few hairs off Hoisuke's forehead, "not me, not even your mom. Got that?"

“Will we be able to invite miss Y/N again?” Hoisuke asks with a trembling bottom lip. 

“If you want to.” 

“Do you want to, daddy?” 

That question takes him by surprise, the familiar guilt lurching through his stomach as he tries to comb through an excuse to hide his growing feelings. 

Except, why does he have to hide in the first place? 

It takes a moment, before Iwaizumi nods, “yeah,” he murmurs gently with the softest of smiles, “I want to.” 

Hoisuke nods once more, which is shortly followed by lurching into Iwaizumi's arms as a sob echoes from his throat. His father holds him close, glad that the earlier tension from Hoisuke's has dissipated into relief for now.

What he doesn’t know though, is that you stand just a few feet away, body tucked into the corner of the wall and holding up your racing heart against your chest. 

------

The more you spend more time with the Iwaizumis, the more your heart gets invested in the coaxing warmth that makes up their family. You try to dismiss what you've overheard back in the school corridor but it's an itch you can't quite erase now that you've been exposed to Iwaizumi's feelings, which does nothing to stop the way your heart skips a beat whenever his gaze lingers upon yours for too long.

And you've taken notice. Or you think you do. Of how he sounds more gentle whenever he talks to you, how whenever you play hands they drift towards each other for a few extra seconds that causes your skin to tingle with warmth. How it is so goddamn easy to fall into this familiar routine of playing families with Hoisuke around like a human sunshine.

But there's still one thing nagging you. Which is why you corner him once you have tucked Hoisuke into bed on Saturday night, seeking him out on the small terrace tucked beside his kitchen that overlooks the glowing city lights.

"Can I ask you something?"

His gaze flits to yours. He nods.

Swallowing back the sudden knot of anxiety in your throat, your question comes out more like a soft proposition rather than a demand fot answers.

"I know it's none of my business, but-- I overheard you and Hoisuke a few days ago in the school corridor," your words are rushed and quick as you fold your arms over your chest, "did you and Mizune have a fight...about me?"

Iwaizumi shifts in your peripheral to face you, but your eyes adamantly find purchase onto the cement ledge splattered with dirt. For a split second, you wonder whether it wouldn't have been better to keep your mouth shut.

"What did you hear?" He asks quietly.

With a slow breath, you tell him what you've heard, underlining that this whole encounter was an accident.

"And from the way she acted when she saw me...well, it's not hard to put two and two together," you finish off in a mumble, then quickly adding, "look I--I don't want to come in-between you and your family. I just don't want Hoisuke to get hurt."

Surprise flits through his features. He regards you for a long moment, long enough that you feel like squirming underneath his gaze.

Then, taking you by surprise, he chuckles softly and shifts his elbows onto the edge of the terrace, "No wonder he likes you."

You blink at him. It suddenly feels a little too warm.

"None of this is your fault, Y/N," you wonder since when have the formalities dropped from Miss Y/N to just Y/N and decide that you like the way your name rolls off his tongue, "Mizune gets jealous over stupid shit and if she can't see someone else making her son happy then that's not our problem."

Your teeth unconsciously find purchase onto your lower lip, which he notices. That doesn't stop him from reaching over to press his thumb against your lower lip, "don't."

You freeze at the touch. His thumb is warm against your mouth, calloused and sending a series of tingles down your spine.

He must realize the intimacy of his touch, for he drops his hand away and mutters, "he's...livelier. when you're around. Happier, even. I've never seen him like that with his Mama."

"What about you?"

You feel like slapping yourself. The audacity coming out of your mouth surprises you and you swear your cheeks burst into flames.

Iwaizumi looks at you almost at the same time your pupils focus on his, causing your breath to hitch.

Why the hell can't you just keep your mouth shut?

Iwaizumi's voice is merely a murmur when he speaks next, deep and laced with a roughness.

"What about me?"

Your brain seems to turn to mush, "do you like having me around?" You hope you don't sound too pathetic.

Your heart almost stops at his next set of words.

"I do."

And there's that smile, barely there but enough that your own lips stretch to mirror his action. Until you realize you are smiling at him like a fool and quickly look away like you've just been burnt.

Something shifts in the air between you, spurred on by the way your eyes keep searching each other's with a growing tension that makes your skin rattle. Iwaizumi's frown is present, yet not unpleasant and you're not quite sure who moves, just that he's suddenly a little closer. Close enough you get a whiff of the citrus smell you've come to recognize as his own.

"Miss Y/N?"

Hoisuke's voice suddenly snaps you out of your daze. Quickly whipping around to see the said boy rubbing his eyes, a hand unconscioudly scratching his tummy, your entire countenance softens as he blinks up at you sleepily.

"I can't sleep," he mumbles out with sleep still in his eyes, "can you come back to bed with me?"

"Yeah sure," you're already on your way over to him, scooping the child up in your arms. He takes this chance to bury his face into the crook of your neck, sighing contently.

You turn back to his father, a dark silhouette against the bright landscape, "I'll be right back."

But Hoisuke surprises you by saying, "you too, Daddy."

Iwaizumi stills, "what?"

"Come to bed too, Daddy."

For one single moment, it's like time stops. You can't see Iwaizumi's face but a moment later he straightens and walks over, nodding at you when he's close enough. You don't realize your heart is besting like a hummingbird until you hear it throbbing through your chest as you try squeezing into Hoisuke's bed, you in the corner and his father barely hanging onto the edge, Hoisuke squished in-between.

It's like an instinct for the boy to latch onto your shirt. He turns to burrow himself into the curve you've made with your body, facing Iwaizumi who is half-sitting, half-lying down in an angle that surely isn't comfortable.

So you decide to point it out to him, patting the bed for good measure in hopes that he doesn't notice the warm flush of your neck.

"It's okay," your whisper tickles Hoisuke's hair, "it's only until he falls asleep."

He hesitates, before you see his head nod and he slides his body a little closer, chest curving into Hoisuke's back and close enough for you to get bathed in his warmth.

He smells good. He looks good. God. Why does he look so damn good?

Stop! You squeeze your eyes shut aa if that might help your racing thoughts, and you are so caught up in your own head that you almost miss the gentle brush of Iwaizumi's fingers against your shoulder.

You tense up right before realizing that his action is intentional. Your shoulders slowly relax, a shaky exhale escaping your lips as he takes the chance to linger over your arm a little longer, before falling away onto the mattress.

You fall asleep that night listening to not just Hoisuke's, but Iwaizumi's heartbeat. 

----

Taglist: @multi-fandom-fanfic, @168-cm-png, @bakugouswh0r3, @yatoatyourservice, @ayocee, @marvel-ing-at-it-all, @astrolcve, @lilith412426, @elianetsantana, @schleepyflocci, @oohlalie , @kaashikoi , @tendo-sxtori , @iwaroses , @its-the-aerieljeane , @lalalemon101 , @lanaxians-2 , @dora-the-grownup , @sharin-gone , @nekomavsnohebi , @crayonwriting , @imafan , @random-fandom-girl-24 , @bucinhajime , @izumikunmy , @iwaoioioi​ , @evesmores​ , @meri-soni-meri-tamanna​ , @paintedstarres​ , @okadaxo , @michaki , @archiepudding​ , @ysatrap​ , @cringe-freak​ , @thatprettybunny​ 

[lindzaylove]

eighteen

A Kook's Perspective series

word count: 2.5k

trigger warnings: underage drinking, protective dad, controversial bandana color ???

taglist: @ashleyj27 @pogueslandia @maybankforlife @teelagurl558 @maybanktrash @psychosympathizer @slut4jj @cherrybarzy

gif by: @gemmusings

"are you sure you don't mind honey?" your mom asked, putting her earrings on. you nodded again, hoping your parents would actually leave a lot sooner. "we just feel so bad about leaving you on your birthday."

"mom, it is really okay. i'll probably just order some food and watch movies," you lied. your phone was vibrating in your pocket with the Pogues all wanting to know where you were.

"oh, have some people over! the Camerons would be welcome, that Thornton boy too," your mom stood from her vanity, turning to face you. "how do i look?"

"fabulous, as always," you smiled. she did look absolutely stunning. you were sure she would put all the other military girlfriends and wives to shame at.....whatever event this was in Charleston. at that moment, your dad came in.

"Sarah is outside," your dad said, checking his tie in the mirror before looking at you. "i think she has something for your birthday."

"Sarah Cameron?" you asked, turning to look out the window. there she stood, leaning against a black car with a relatively large and thin pink square in her hand. "what the fu-"

"Y/N," your mom scolded you, coming to look out the window as well. "i didn't know you and Sarah were getting to know one another."

"we aren't," you turned around. "i can walk out with you guys and talk to her then."

"go on down, i want to talk to Y/N for a moment," your dad said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. your mind ran over all the things you've done in the past week to warrant getting in trouble with your dad. you had purposefully stayed home since the boneyard party incident and avoided even speaking to the Pogues in case your parents had caught it.

"so, i saw Jake Allen at the club yesterday," your dad fixed his sleeves. your heart stopped; your whole body froze. he obviously knew everything, but no excuse could pour out of your mouth about why you had been with Rafe.

"he said he saw you and Rafe Cameron driving around the island," he finally looked at you. "at one in the morning."

"he did," you nodded. "i had been down at the beach that night. Rafe, Sarah, Topper Thornton, and Kelce Smith were there doing their own thing. I didn't drive, so instead of letting me walk home, Rafe gave me a ride." you were twirling a bracelet around your wrist behind your back, nerves coursing through you.

"that all that happened?"

"he dropped Kelce off, then Topper and Sarah, and then we got here around one. i wasn't ready to come in so we drove around and listened to music. i got home around three and went straight to bed."

"he ran a red light with you in the car," your dad put his hands in his pockets. "so why didn't i know until yesterday?"

"i dropped my phone and he was just making sure i was okay. we just happened to go through the light. he wasn't speeding or driving erratically at all," you were pleading, though you weren't sure why. he wasn't even angry at you, he was angry with Rafe for getting you in trouble and putting you in danger. you could easily put him under the bus and let your dad drive it over him, but you couldn't. you were getting defensive for him.

"he wasn't drinking or on anything?" your dad was still set in his stance, but you were done playing with your bracelet.

"if i was in danger, you know i would have told Mr. Allen," you crossed your arms. "can i go get my present now?"

"yeah, of course," your dad finally calmed down. "i'm just glad it wasn't one of those other kids you're always hanging out with. they must have been at that party that night."

"mhm," you rolled your eyes as you went down the stairs. outside, it was starting to get warm out as the sun went to reach its peak in the sky. your mom was talking to Sarah, who was standing up straight from the car and moving her hands around as she spoke.

"hey," you greeted them, pulling your cardigan up over your shoulder despite the heat. "what's up?"

"happy birthday," Sarah smiled, going to grab the once forgotten gift she had for you. "it's from Rafe, actually."

"he couldn't give it to her?" your dad asked, joining everyone in the front yard. you were staring at Sarah, hoping Rafe had a really good excuse for sending his sister - for his sake.

"he and my dad are going into Charleston today," Sarah told him. you closed your eyes, praying your dad doesn't make a smart comment.

"we're going into Charleston!" your mother smiled, you could hear it in her voice. "what are you they going for?"

"my dad has some business to do and dragged Rafe along. but you two look much nicer than some business meetings," Sarah complimented them.

you rolled your eyes. your dad was literally in his Marine Corp Dress Blue Uniform.

"open up your gift before we leave you two," your dad said. he was smiling, though it didn't reach his eyes. you pulled the pink tissue paper off the gift, your jaw dropping as you realized what it was. you pulled all the paper off, revealing to everyone the Chase Atlantic Vinyl.

"he got you a record?" Sarah asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

"we had talked about it the other night briefly," you brushed hair behind your ear, a big smile on your face. "i also have a record player in my room."

"that's so sweet," your mom said. your dad cleared his throat in response.

"you two need to go before you miss your ferry," you told them, ushering them to your father's car. they both kissed you on the cheek and left. you let out a sigh, coming face to face with Sarah by yourself.

"thank you, for giving this to me," you held up the vinyl slightly. "you can go home now."

"that's not the only reason i'm here," Sarah admitted. you paused to look at her instead of going inside. she held up a bandana - a gray piece of fabric that was far too familiar.

"what are you doing with that?" you turned all the way back around. "is John B. okay?"

"he sent me to come pick you up. you're supposed to be coming over to the chateau for your birthday and i am your ride since i had to see you to give you that," Sarah put the bandana back in her pocket. "so go put that inside and let's go."

"whatever," you mumbled, going back into your house. as you went up the stairs to your room, a piece of paper came out of the vinyl. you stopped and picked it up.

happy birthday, y/n. sorry it doesn't have your favorite song, but i hope it'll do - R.C.

you smiled the rest of the way up to your room, adding the record to your box of others. you switched tops and lost the cardigan.

the note from Rafe was sweet, even if all it really said was happy birthday. you thought over whether or not to add it to your memo board, but you slid it on there despite your better judgement. by the time you got downstairs, Sarah was in her car and scrolling on her phone. you got in the front seat next to her, pulling your phone out. Sarah's music was playing quietly through the speakers, but you quickly went to send Rafe a message on Instagram.

thank you for the gift! it means a lot that you got me something :)

you checked your other messages, quickly heading to the group chat to question why Sarah was suddenly involved in your birthday plans. all you got in reply were the eye emojis, though John B. wasn't answering your messages which made you even more annoyed. you were out of Sarah's car before she was parked.

"John B.!" you yelled, storming into the chateau. he came out of his room, a wide smile on his face.

"hey Y/N! happy eighteenth!" he went to give you a hug, but you out your hands up and blocked him.

"why the hell does Sarah have your dad's bandana?" you pointed at her as she came in. "why is she even here at all?"

"well, you were there when we kissed," John B. swallowed. you crossed your arms, biting gently on your tongue. "and this past week she broke up with Topper and came-"

"she went home with him that night!" you exclaimed. "like held his hand and went into his house."

"you went with them, you can't be mad at her for that," John B. threw it back.

"i didn't kiss someone in front of my boyfriend, then let my boyfriend beat him up, and ultimately leave with my boyfriend," you turned to Sarah. "did you and Topper fuck while you were at his house? you were all over him in the truck."

"i didn't," she glared at you. "let me know when she calms down, i'm going outside."

"funny how she gets to talk to me like i'm a dog and you don't stick up for me at all," you looked at John B. "let alone on my birthday."

"i'll talk to her about it after you explain to me what went through your mind when you went with her," John B. leaned against the wall.

"i was thinking that my father would happily blame you all for what happened and get you all in trouble if i had been seen by the police with you. i was the farthest away from the twinkie and would have gotten as all pulled over and in trouble if you'd have to wait. so excuse me for caring about the well being of my friends," you raised your eyebrows. "gonna go get your girlfriend to apologize now?"

"you went ghost after that night. we all just eventually assumed that Rafe convinced you of something bad. Sarah had said he took you home alone and that after she broke up with Topper she went straight home. she got home around two and he didn't get home until after three. he wouldn't talk about what took him so long so we didn't know what happened," John B. explained. "that doesn't give me the right to be a jerk to you, so i'm sorry."

"my dad knew about the party and i didn't want him to connect it to you guys. but Rafe and i just listened to music, that's all," you said, though you were still hurt that they thought Rafe would have that much influence on you. yeah, being with Rafe was fun, but they were still your friends. you were not that fickle in your opinions.

your opinions on Rafe, however....

"i understand now," John B. gave you a half smile, holding his arms out. "can i give you your birthday hug now?"

"i suppose," you teased with a matching smile, giving him a hug. you two hugged and went outside together, the other four people at John B.'s all looking at you expectantly.

"i'm eighteen, not eighty. you guys can be happy for me," you told them, laughing slightly. Kie was the first to come hug you, Pope following with JJ trailing along. John B. went to Sarah and they seemed to talk. by the time you wrangled out of JJ's grip, Sarah came and apologized.

"hey Y/N," Sarah started, fingers rubbing the thin material tied around her neck. you recognized it as the bandana. however angry you were before, it was John B.. he was your friend and you trusted his judgement - despite how dumb he seemed some times.

"i'm sorry," you told her. "you didn't have to come over this morning and bring me here, but you did. you clearly like John B. and he likes you, and you won't be going anywhere. i just thought it was going to be us five, but six is a better number."

"i'm sorry for being rude too, especially since it's clear how much you care ab-"

"let's get this party started!" JJ yelled, interrupting you and Sarah by pulling a beer out of no where and handing it to you. you took a drink and smiled at Sarah.

it truly was the beginning of one of your favorite days ever.

there was glow sticks, alcohol, and a hot tub. you got more bracelets from Kie, a book you had been wanting to read from Pope, a serenade from John B. and JJ, and an IOU from Sarah. there was so much laughter and cheer, you couldn't believe that once upon a time these people weren't your friends. you were so grateful for them, for the adventures they've taken you on.

nonetheless, nagging in the back of your mind, was that feeling in your chest. were you having fun doing something you shouldn't be right now? yes. was it giving you that feeling? unfortunately, no. your brain kept thinking about Rafe despite the dancing and drinking with your friends. you kept thinking about that feeling in your chest you were missing. you were really trying to not let it bother you. you wanted to find your way back to Rafe's truck with the windows down and music blaring. you realized you would probably be chasing that feeling for the rest of your life. the revelation made you ready to go home and listen to your new vinyl - at least that would remind you of that feeling. it was the first time you had ever felt out of place while with your friends.

"hey, are you feeling okay?" Sarah asked, gently touching your elbow. you vaguely remembered that she wasn't drinking because John B. knew you had to be home by the time your parents got back.

"i should probably get home. it's getting late," you nodded, putting your drink down on the counter. "where are my-"

"in my car already. say your goodbyes and i'll see you out there," Sarah smiled, heading out the door to the porch. you splashed some water in your face, hoping to finally calm yourself down. it was dark out now, and you were probably supposed to be home. you checked your phone again, the only message being from Rafe.

"who's that?" Kie asked, popping in next to you. you locked your phone, shoving it in your pocket.

"just some birthday wishes," you waved it off, holding Rafe as your secret. it was just a birthday present anyway, no need to get everyone torn up about it.

"happy birthday, Y/N," Kie hugged you suddenly. "i can't wait to go on a road trip with you once we graduate."

"of course," you hugged her back. "thank you for an amazing night, as always. you're a great friend, Kiara."

"you're just going home for the night, Y/N. no one is disappearing forever," she laughed pushing you out the door while she went to the bathroom. you gave your hugs to the boys before getting into Sarah's car. you checked your phone again, finally being able to see his reply.

i'm glad you like it, you deserve it. happy birthday, y/n x

[shorkbrian]

i’m sorry but i luv your writing/thot process so i have to share this: imagine superstar trainer kiri marrying ur mom. he’s only a few years older (and you had a crush on him first) so you avoid him bc you’re shy/uncomfortable with it. your plans are foiled when mom’s away and y’all are stuck at home during a snow storm, power out, no heat/gas, and no matter how many layers u use nothing beats body heat. kiri is so sweet and just wants to get close and keep you warm/see whats under ur sweats

I’m literally melting rn 

Like imagine Kiri shuffling closer to you on the couch, scooting underneath the blankets you have piled around your body.

He keeps getting closer and closer and closer until he’s pressed up against you, and he feels like a heater, warm and cozy and comfortable. You don’t mind burrowing down into his side a bit, only blushing a little when the big man chuckles at your behavior.

There’s a movie playing on the TV, but you’re kind of sleepy, and your stepdad feels so sturdy and safe against your side, and you’re finally warming to a comfortable temperature, and before you know it, you’re fast asleep.

When you wake up, you’re laying down on a solid surface, heat wrapped around your body and trapped beneath the blankets. The surface rumbles and shifts, and only then do you realize that Kirishima must have moved you.

The room is dark, TV off, lights out. The wind is still howling and moaning outside like a mourner at a grave, beating against the windows and crying to the sky.

Lifting your head means you get a view of Kiri’s face, of his handsome, relaxed self as he gazes down at you, a pleased, soft smile on his features.

You go to apologize for falling asleep on him and for inconveniencing him, but Kirishima doesn’t let you. “It’s warmer this way, plus, I like holding something while I sleep.”

He has his arms wrapped around you, thick biceps pressing heavy against your shoulders, keeping you flush to his muscular chest. You blush a little at the position, shifting your legs and trying not to do anything weird.

But in moving your legs around, you find yourself straddling his thigh, the stocky limb flexing underneath your weight, Kirishima twitching.

“Sorry-” You blush again, intending on moving, but your stepdad drops a hand to your hip, steadying you.

“No, don’t apologize, I get it.” He winks at you, before jiggling his thigh a bit, settling you down further onto it. “I remember doing stuff like this back in high school, I know it feels good.”

A long moment of silence stretched between you two as you processed his words, feeling increasingly awkward.

“Um, okay...” Was all you could come up with.

Kirishima laughed a bit. “You’ve never cuddled with anyone before? It’s nice, isn’t it? ‘Specially with the heat out like this. Power went out while you were sleeping.”

You felt a little silly now, ducking your head and dropping your gaze. That would explain why the lights were off. You had just assumed the movie had finished playing and your stepdad had turned it off, but apparently that wasn’t the case. 

“Temp’s gonna drop fast, we’re probably going to have to use good ‘ole body heat while we sleep. You wanna move to the bed? Or just sleep here?”

A shrug, and Kirishima smiled. “Okie-doke, bed it is. Thank goodness, my back would kill me if I tried to sleep on the couch. Gettin’ old s’no fun.”

The man sat up, and you quickly disentangled yourself from him, ignoring the way his thigh rubbed in between your legs as he moved about. As soon as you felt the chill of the room, you shivered, clacking your teeth together and snatching the blanket tight around yourself.

“Oh, that’s so cold, fuck.”

“Hey, watch your language-” Kirishima chided, rising to his feet as he gathered the rest of the blankets up into his arms. “No potty mouths in this house, yeah? Keep it clean.”

He’d been married to your mom for almost a year now, and Kirishima had easily fallen into the “father figure” role, despite the fact that it wasn’t necessarily needed.

But you indulged him by laughing at his corny dad jokes, complimenting the various meats he grilled for meals, keeping your judgements about his questionable fashion choices to yourself instead of blurting them out to his face.

Kirishima led the way to the master bedroom, the room he shared with your mom, stating that the bed was bigger, it’d be more comfortable. Did you really expect him to fit into your bed?

He was a big man, strong and solid. He was able to throw you over one shoulder, your mom over the other, and run around the house whooping while the two of you laughed and pounded on his back.

“Alright-” Kirishima tossed his armful of blankets onto the bed he shared with your mom, immediately fluffing them up and pulling at the edges until he was satisfied.

The man pulled back the edge, holding it ups as he turned to you. “Head on inside!”

It was cold at first, the sheets and blankets chilly. You snuggled up to Kirishima as soon as the big man laid down, making him laugh a bit as your teeth chattered together.

“S-sorry it’s just so-so c-cold.” You explained.

“Your nose is all red, you look so cute.” His smile is warm, his hands even warmer as they begin to rub up and down your sides.

You don’t know how to respond, let yourself relax into the comforting touch, his fingertips dancing over your sweater.

“So.....” Kiri starts “You’ve never had a boyfriend then? You got so quiet when I asked if you’ve cuddled with someone before.”

A blush rose to your cheeks, and you shook your head. “No, I have. I broke up with him a little bit before you and mom started dating.”

The redhead’s quiet for a moment, then tucks his chin over your head, drawing you closer into his chest. “I’m sorry. Relationships can be hard, I know.”

“It was for the best, I think.” You continue, letting your stepdad rub your back as you talked. “We just didn’t really jive well together I guess. Wish we’d figured that out sooner though.”

The man pressed against you is so sturdy, solid and radiating heat like a furnace. It’s easy to relax in his easy-going presence.

“Well, if you ever miss cuddling, don’t hesitate to come find me, yeah? It’s one of my favorites.”

Kirishima was a touchy man, and it was obvious that his love language was touch, so it made sense. He always had his thick arms wrapped around your mom, was holding her hand, holding yours, placing kisses on your cheeks, kissing your mom every chance he got.

Sometimes he asked you to brush out his hair for him, when you weren’t busy or anything. He’d relax into jelly as you ran the hairbrush through his red locks, contented little sighs falling from his lips.

“Okay, I’ll do that.” You chuckle, thinking to yourself how the world had a funny sense of humor.

Truthfully, when you’d first been introduced to the man your mom had recently started dating, you’d developed a hopeless crush. He was attractive, kind, funny; if your mom wasn't dating him, you would’ve asked for his number.

A small part of you was irritated that the man was young enough for you to date him, your mother unbothered by the sugar stereotype she’d developed.

But ah well, what’s done is done.

“You know, I didn’t know what I'd be like having a daughter.” Kirishima soft voice breaks you out of your thoughts. “You’re almost more like.... I dunno, a friend? If that makes sense. I feel like we’re buddies.”

“Yeah, I feel like that too.” You confess, breathing into his neck, able to smell the cologne he uses, something heady and strong and manly.

A comfortable silence settles around you both, nothing but soft breaths and Kirishima’s warm hands rubbing gently over your body, against your sides, up and down your back, massaging your shoulders.

They traveled too close to your tummy, and you choked out a laugh, flinching away from Kirishima.

“Don’t, ‘m ticklish.” Came your breathless, giggly warning.

“Yeah? Yeah?” The redhead grinned, a glint in his eye, barely noticeable before he pounced, rolling over until you were smothered beneath his hefty weight, unable to move.

Horrible, terrible fingers descended, dug into your ribs and you shrieked, wide smile breaking across your features as your stepdad tickled you.

This is what happiness was made of.

Warm and fuzzy, the smell of rain, the sound of it pattering against the roof. Strong arms around you, a laugh on your lips.

Kirishima’s thigh slipped in between yours, pressed upwards, and you choked on a breath, hands immediately clutching at the man’s biceps.

“You’re so sensitive, it’s so cute.”

No time to say his name, ask any questions. He was situating you on your side, legs tangled with his, a big, beefy thigh still flush against your clothed sex.

“Mm, you ever do this with your boyfriend?” The redhead was moving, hands gripping your waist now, dragging you along his thigh, and you kept bumping up against his chest, his toned stomach.

“Yes-yeah.” Was your breathless reply, head whirling, eyes wide. This isn’t really what you were expecting, not from your stepdad.

But it wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

That’s why you weren’t screaming your head off, recoiling in disgust, scrambling for the phone to call your mom, the police.

No, you were still, pliant against Kirishima as he moved your body, his lazy red eyes fixed on your face. “Hm? Feels nice, doesn’t it? You like it?”

A shaky nod is all you can muster, feeling yourself beginning to drip against your stepdad’s thigh, slick all over your folds, the skin tingling, making your hips jump as your clit pulsed at the stimulation.

God, it felt good.

“You make me so happy, y’know? Such a pretty, smart girl.” He praised, and now you could feel it - feel the cock filling out against your tummy, hot and wet, leaking.

“I really hit the jackpot. A beautiful wife, a gorgeous daughter... I love you so, so much.” Kirishima was breathing heavier, his fingers digging into your hipbones as he dragged you back and forth against him. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Just wanna take care of you, yeah?  Make you cum lots, whatever you want.”

Almost feverish now, his hips twitching forward, pushing against your tummy again and again, rubbing his cock against your soft flesh, groaning in your ear, breath stuttering-

And then a long moan, a burst of warmth soaking through your pajama shirt, right where the tip of Kiri’s cock rested.

“Oh shit-” He gasped, sucking in air, muscles flexing as he drew back his legs, hands shakily pushing you onto your back.

“That - Jesus, you really got me goin’.” Kiri panted, beginning to kiss at your neck, one of his hands diving into your pajama pants, straight down to strum over your clit.

Already keyed up from the dry humping, veins pumping with excitement, arousal, the thrill of being touched and fondled by your-your stepdad.

A finger teased at your hole, then inched inside, and you bucked your hips, crying out a bit.

“Hey, hey-” He was still a little breathless, a little lightheaded from his orgasm, but the man was determined. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I got you. I’m always gonna take care of my girl.”

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter Nine || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Hello and happy Tuesday besties! ICYMI, I posted a bit of smutty goodness for all of you 18+ folks here. If you’d like to be added to my general Hotch fic taglist please let me know! 

Read previous chapters of this fic here! 

contains: canon-typical discussion of violence, food mention, therapy, cuddling. 

wc: 2k

When you woke up the next morning, there were flowers in a vase on your bedside table. You’re smiling before you’ve even wiped the sleep away from your eyes, grabbing the sticky note that was stuck to the vase. 

“Would’ve sent these to your desk, but figured that wouldn’t go unnoticed by a team of behavior experts. Hope they made you smile anyways. -AH

An expert on behavior and he was only hoping that he could make you smile, you laughed to yourself, rolling out of bed and finding Aaron in the kitchen with a mug of coffee, packing Jack’s lunch. 

“When did you find the time to do that, Hotchner? Don’t you ever sleep?” You asked, and he looked up at you, breaking out in a smile. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugs, looking back down to his carrot slices as you cross the kitchen in pursuit of a cup of coffee. He places the knife down and tugs you closer to him by the palm of your hand so he can drop a kiss to the top of your head. It makes you feel warm all over. You hear the insistent smacking of small feet on hardwood and step away from Aaron in an instant, not wanting to be caught by Jack. 

“Morning bud,” Aaron calls across the kitchen. Jack responds with a yawn, which makes you giggle. He smiles at you. 

“Are you gonna have to go catch bad guys again?” He asks. “I missed you and dad.” 

“Oh little man, we missed you too! We probably won’t get called away today but I can’t say for sure. If dad and I come home tonight, do you want to have a special movie night so we can all spend some time together?” 

Jack nods ferociously, and practically starts buzzing with excitement. “Can we watch monsters inc?” 

“Oh, that’s one of my favorites!” 

“Dad?” Jack looked to his father for confirmation. 

“Of course, bud. But you’d better eat all of these carrots I’m packing in your lunch if you want a treat.” Aaron smiled at Jack, who agreed easily. “Come on, we don’t want to miss the bus.” He said, ushering Jack out the door with a Danimals and an orange while you finished getting ready. You were struck for a moment by how easily you had slid into the Hotchner boys’ morning routines, and you realized that you would miss it once you found your own place. But it was for the best-- you hoped that you and Aaron would be serious enough to consider living together, but you didn’t want to force it too early in the relationship and cause problems. 

When Aaron comes back, you’re dressed and ready to head off to work. He grabs his briefcase and suit jacket off of one of the chairs at the kitchen table. 

“D’you eat?” He asked as he pulled his jacket over his arms.

“I had coffee. I’m not a big breakfast person.” You tell him, surprised that he hasn’t already noticed this about you.

“Grab a fruit.” He tells you. 

“Did you eat?’ You ask him, and the tips of his ears turn pink. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, Hotchner. Why don’t you grab a fruit.” You teased, tossing him an orange from the bowl and tucking a banana into your purse as you stepped out the door, with Aaron locking up behind you. He wrapped his free arm around your waist as the two of you walked to the car.

“I have something to tell you, and you’re going to be mad at me.” Aaron confesses about halfway through your drive to work. 

“Ah, so that’s what the flowers were about.” You said facetiously. 

“No, the flowers were from your boyfriend, this news is from your boss.” He clarifies. 

“Oh?” You asked, needing him to explain more. 

“You’ve got a psych eval this morning.” He confesses and you groan. 

“Ugh, Hotch, really?” 

“Even if we could ignore what happened with Josh-- which, for the record, you shouldn’t-- you were held hostage by an unsub.”

“For like, twenty minutes!” You interrupted him. 

“It’s bureau policy, dear. There’s nothing I can do about it.” 

“And you can’t just say that you gave me the psych eval and I passed?” 

“No,” he tells you, sighing. “For us to be together, we need to keep everything above board. Hopefully no one starts on a warpath when we decide we’re ready to share this, but if they do, I don’t want to give them any reason to undermine your professional credibility by arguing I gave you special treatment.” 

You’re a little bit stunned by Aaron’s use of “when” rather than “if.” It’s not in a bad way, of course-- it’s actually, really, really good, to hear that he’s just as in it as you are, even if you hadn’t expressed it very well yet. The idea that he’s already thinking about the future-- even if it is your professional future, not exactly a white-picket-fence kind of future-- gives you butterflies. You realize you’ve waited too long to respond when Aaron speaks up again. 

“I understand if that’s a lot for you to take on, or if that makes you rethink things. I wouldn’t hold it against you if you decided this wasn’t worth the potential professional issues.” He adds nervously, clearing his throat. You reach over and put a hand on his thigh. 

“I think you’re worth the risk,” you smile at him, and watch him release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

 “Thanks for coming in,” Laura, one of the FBI’s resident psychologists said as you settled into the couch in her office. You err on the side of politeness and decide not to point out that you didn’t really have a choice. 

“Not a problem,” you smiled at her. 

“So how are you feeling?” She asked. 

“I’m good. I’m happy to be back at work, and to get my field clearance back. I’ve missed it.” You tell her.

“That’s right, you’d been removed from the field for a head injury.” She said, peering over your file. “Service related?” 

“No, I fell down a flight of stairs,” you lied, hoping she couldn’t read you as easily as Aaron could. 

“Hmm, so you travelled with the team even though you weren’t cleared for field work?” She asks, and you’re pretty sure you’re not imagining the judgement in her tone. 

“I didn’t go into the field. I stayed at the police station, in compliance to orders from my doctor and from Chief Hotchner. Unfortunately, the field came to me,” you attempted to make a joke. She didn’t laugh. 

“Was it not possible for your duties to be completed from Quantico?” 

“No, it wasn’t. The behavioral analysis unit works as a team-- we’re able to determine profiles as successfully as we do because we collaborate. My efforts, and the work of my team, would have been severely hindered if I had stayed behind.” You answer mechanically, trying, and most likely failing, to not sound defensive. “I fail to see how that’s relevant to my experience with Alec Gordon.” 

“I’m just trying to determine if you’re engaging in a pattern of self-endangering or careless behavior.” Laura answers honestly.

“I can assure you that my attitude regarding my work and the work of my team is anything but careless.” You bite back.

“You came back to work very quickly after your concussion.” She says, and it’s not a question, so you don’t take the bait. “Any particular reason for that?” 

“I felt ready to return, and Chief Hotchner was willing to accommodate my need to work partial days until I was fully recovered, so on the advice of my physician I returned to work on a modified schedule.” 

“Agent, I don’t need to tell you that withholding information in our session or on the forms you filled out prior to our appointment today, will only hurt you.” 

“With all due respect, I haven’t withheld anything and I resent the implication.” 

“Very well, agent. I will have a complete evaluation sent to your supervisor by the end of the business day.” 

“Thank you for your time,” you smiled, trying to make it look real. 

“The door is always open, agent.” 

“So, you kind of beat me to the punch this morning,” Aaron tells you as you’re walking out of the office together. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

“Well, the flowers were a part of my master plan to get you to agree to come to dinner with me tonight, but it seems you’ve made other arrangements with my son.” He smirks at you as you both climb into his SUV. 

“I guess now you know where you stand in the ranking of Hotchner boys.” You tease him. 

“It won’t get me ahead of Jack, I know, but will you let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night?” 

“Aaron,” you laughed. “You don’t need to take me out to dinner.” 

“Yes, I do.” He tells you.

“We already live together. You’re going to have dinner with me regardless of whether or not we eat it at a restaurant.” You tell him, gesturing to his place as he parked the car.

“Maybe so, but you’ve already decided that we won’t be living together much longer. I care about you, and I want to spend time with you, and I’d like to take you out to dinner.” He said, shifting to face you now that the car was stopped.

You rolled your eyes fondly, feeling yourself blush. “I’ll allow it.” 

“God, it’s like pulling teeth,” Aaron muttered sarcastically, breaking out into a grin as you laughed.

You both got out of the car and headed inside, where Jess and Jack were working on a puzzle at the kitchen table. 

“Dad!” Jack says, looking up to see his father and abandoning the puzzle, launching himself into his father’s arms. 

“Hey, buddy. Did you have a good day?”

“Yes, and I ate all my carrots so that I could have a special treat while we watch Monsters Inc.” 

“He’s been waiting to tell you that all afternoon,” Jess laughed, standing up from the table and crossing to you to give you a hug. When Haley died, you and Jess got a lot closer, through Jack. “It’s good to see you,” she says as she squeezes you. 

“You too.” You smile. “I’ve got to go change into my special movie night clothes,” you smirked, leaving Jess, Jack and Aaron in the kitchen.

“Jack, why don’t you go put on your pajamas, and we’ll start the movie in a little bit?” Aaron suggested, and Jack scampered off towards his room. 

“Do you plan on ever telling that girl how you feel about her, or are you just going to look at her like she hung the stars in the sky for the rest of your life?” Jess asks Aaron bluntly. 

“I can’t possibly be that obvious.” 

“Aren’t you literally a behavior expert?” 

“It’s being handled, Jess.” He assures her with a quick grin as you emerge from your room in soft flannel pants and a tank top. 

“Do you want to stay, Jess? We’re just gonna order a pizza and veg out.” 

“I wish I could. But you kids have fun.” She said, looking between you and Aaron. Jack comes running out of his room to give his aunt a kiss goodbye and you all settle on the couch. 

Jack inserts himself in the middle of you and Aaron on the couch, a slice of pizza on a paper plate in front of him with the promise of ice cream later on. Aaron’s arm rests across the back of the sofa and his hand plays gently with the hair at the nape of your neck. You tilt your head in his direction, pulling Jack into your lap so you can scoot closer as the movie plays on. Jack falls asleep before you can even get him his ice cream, and you take the opportunity to rest your head on Aaron’s shoulder, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and tracing comforting patterns into the skin of your upper arms until the credits roll.