#suggestions can be anything that's just a little less expensive than a car

[mantequillamcwhoremick]

Hey guys if Cartman mysteriously acquired like a shit fucking ton of money what stupid expensive crap would he spend it on? Bonus points if it would piss off Kyle

[princescribbler]

ADULT DIAPER BAG BASICS:

Enough diapees for the day....+2. Never do the bare minimum or you might find yourself in trouble with no backups left! For me, that usually means 4 to 5 in case I need them, even though I normally only need to change in the morning, shortly after lunch, and in the evening once usually, but I still bring more!

DISCRETE stuffies are good. One slightly larger one or a few small ones is enough for me, but your mileage may vary!

An actual BAG! First, almost anyone can get away with a backpack unexplained these days, but even if not, at least have it in the car if you've got one! Either way, a bag is key so you're not smuggling diapers under your shirt and thinking that's somehow sneaky!

Disposal bags, especially if you're a diaper Messer. I'm not generally, but even i know it's not good form to just dispose in a random bin, please bag and close up your diapees to the best of your ability changing in public!

Powder or cream, even if it's not always your thing. Very good to have when you DO need it! Better safe than sorry, and better avoiding rashes if possible!

Extra wipes, and ideally good-sized ones. While expensive, the Northshore brand wipes are nice for me and mean I don't need SEVERAL smaller wipes with less tensile strength. Very good to have!

Change of clothes, seriously.. if you're in 24/7 diapees you need to prepare for the possibility of a bad accident or leak. Some folks even suggest 2 spares of clothes.

Your paci or other cutesy little items (but only if you're sure your bag will stay private). Having a change of diapee can be explained with incontinence... having an adult sized paci that says "Mommy's boy" might be a bit more work!

Extra juice or liquid... because the easiest way to get noticed from diapees is being dehydrated and reeking of concentrated peepee, or making a messy diapee. Avoid the stinky peepee by staying well hydrated!

Did I miss your favorite addition? Anything you consider an absolute requirement that I've missed? Let me know and leave a comment, or share what you include in YOUR diapee bag!

And as always, stay happy, stay healthy, and stay kinky!

-Scribbler

[coltrainbat]

Hi there. I just read yes no maybe both parts, and i loved it! It was so well written. Love everything about it. Since request are open can i ask first sex for Chris and reader? When it's her first time. She has waited for the one.

Pretty Special

A/N: Happy New Year! First one of 2023 and I must say I'm very happy with it if I do say myself but feedback is always welcome. 💕☘️

WARNINGS: SMUT MINORS DNI. 8k filth, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, pain during sex, sex, orgasm, P in V

You fiddled with your hands nervously in the black car. 

Chris had generously brought you out to LA for the week, you had been talking on FaceTime and over the phone for over 2 months now. 

Making it 2 months since you’d last seen him and 2 months since you’ve had his lips on you. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been on a holiday where you did so little planning, he’d organised everything from the flight to the car, you just had to show up with your bags. 

You had landed a little after sunset and thanks to the comfy first-class seat you were well rested and just excited to meet Dodger for the first time. 

The elephant of the room sat in the back of your head, a looming force reminding you of the make-or-break situation that the future of you and Chris hanged on. You were a virgin. 

It’s not like you were lacking in offers from suitors it’s just that it was never right for you, wrong location, wrong guy, wrong underwear, too drunk, too tired, too bored. 

You had done anything else but that final threshold of having a dick inside of you was yet to be crossed, and why else would Chris spend all this money and fly you out if it wasn’t for the expectation for a little hanky panky? 

It’s not like you didn’t want the gorgeous man on top of you. That was all you could think about the last two months whenever he’d send a photo without a shirt on or if he’d send a bit of a suggestive text. God, it was all you thought about. 

But what if it turned him off? 

Taking someone’s virginity may not be a lot to some guys but what if he thought you were some inexperienced prude? 

What if didn’t want you to get really attached to your first time, but who were you kidding you were already attached.

The sex would probably just make you a sappy begging mess. That’s if he does. Worst case he tells you to get the fuck out and find your own way home. But he wouldn’t do that… 

Would he? 

“We are here ma’am.” The driver pulled you out of your train of anxious thought, parking in the driveway of a luxurious house that was definitely trying to sell itself as modest. Single story. So modest. If it wasn’t in the most expensive suburb of Hollywood and completely gated. You looked out the window to see Chris jogging out of the house towards your door. Your stomach flipped seeing him. He looked so… cool. In sweats and a T-shirt. You suddenly felt extremely overdressed in your casual dress and sandals. He was in sweatpants for God sakes! But he looked absolutely delicious and less tired than he did 2 months ago. He seemed calmer, more relaxed, and absolute overjoyed to see you. 

He opened your door “Hey pretty lady! You made it.” You got out of the car opting for a hug because at this stage your relationship was still undefined, and you didn’t want to come off too strong by planting a big fat kiss on his plump pink lips. 

“I made it!” Omg you’re an idiot. 

He pulled you in close, sneaking a whiff of your hair. 

“Was the flight, ok?” 

“It was the best flight I’ve ever been on. So much leg room!” 

“Yeah the first class seats a pretty comfortable.” 

“Thank you again it was very generous but you didn’t have to.” 

“I want you comfortable so yes I had to.” He thanked the driver pulling your bags out of the trunk. 

Taking them and wheeling them up the driveway, you inched towards your bags, but he quickly shielded them from you “Hey no I got it.” You followed him to the front door where he stopped with his hand on the doorknob. 

“Just warning you, when I open this door, you will get attacked.” 

“I’m ready” you were grinning like an idiot, excited to see the pup in the flesh 

“if he’s too much I’ll pull him off you.” 

“Please don’t.” 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” He shook his head opening the door just a crack, but it wasn’t long between Dodger wiggled his way out, immediately going to sniffing and pawing at your legs, licking every surface he saw. 

“Oh hello! Hi puppy! Hi! Hi! Hey.. how are you?” You crouched down to be met with more puppy kisses. 

“Hey hey Dodge easy I haven’t even gotten a kiss yet.” Chris pulled him lightly by the collar. You looked at him smirking as blush rose to your cheeks. 

You rose, pecking him on the cheek. “More where that came from Evans.” He chuckled, leading you into the foyer with Dodged staunchly between your legs. 

“Did you eat already?” 

“I did, food was better than I get on the ground sometimes” reminiscing on the 5-star meal you had in the air. 

“Well can I get you a drink then? I have wine, beer, spritz...” 

“Beer is fine.” 

“Geez a woman after my own heart.” 

Your bags abandoned in the foyer you followed him into the modern kitchen as he fetched two beers from the fridge, pulling off the cap with his teeth. 

“Omg you’re gonna crack your teeth!” 

“Veneers.” He grinned at you, cap between his front teeth as he spat it onto the counter. 

“No way!” 

“Yep but don’t tell anyone.” He winked at you, handing you the ice-cold drink. 

“It’s a nice night why don’t we sit outside?” You nodded, sipping your drink as you made your way outside and settled on the plush outdoor couch. 

Chris right next to you, falling with a sigh. 

“Soooo…” 

“So.” 

“There’s a guest bedroom if you’d like, has a bathroom and everything I did it up for you. But I was kind of hoping you’d sleep in my bed but if you don’t want to…” You bit your lip at the suggestion. 

“I want to it’s just-“ 

“Yeah no sorry too soon I didn’t want to pressure you or anything.” 

“No it’s not that like I want to sleep with you. Badly” his eyes lit up your statement 

“I promise I don’t bite.” 

“I wouldn’t mind if you did I’ve just… I’ve never… slept with anyone before.” 

“Oh so you have a habit of sneaking out when the deed is done… should I lock the doors then?” He chuckled, holding the bottle to his mouth.

“No Chris, I haven’t had sex… with anyone.” 

“Wow.” A silence fell over you two.

“Yeah I know it’s embarrassing.” 

“No, its not, definitely not embarrassing. I’m just kind of shocked no one has gone there before I mean… god you’re gorgeous.” 

“It’s not that they haven’t tried I’m just… picky.” 

“Would you want me to be your first time? I mean I’d be honoured but I understand if you want to save it for someone special.” 

“I think you’re pretty special.” You smirked at him. 

“Well how about we sit down here for a little and then we can go inside.” He placed his hand delicately on your thigh, rubbing it softly. 

You leaned over towards his ear “I’ve wait this long why are you gonna keep me waiting longer?” You purred. 

His ears went red, immediately jumping up and pulling you up, wrapping his arms around you “we’ll go as slow as you want.” 

“Thank you but I think I’m more than ready.” He planted a soft kiss on your lips, putting his hand on your face, inching your neck back a little to deepen the kiss.

“Come on.” He led you inside towards the bedroom door. 

Dodger behind you two “Nah-uh, Dodger stay.” Chris told him, before he had a chance to sneak in with you two. The pup wined a little, falling on his stomach. “Sorry buddy adults only.” You sulked at him. 

You sat with Chris on the edge of the bed, side by side, his hand sliding to your waist as his softly palmed the fabric of your dress. 

“So how far have you gone?” 

“Everything but.” 

“Ok great so you won’t mind if I slip this thing off.” His hands went to the edge of your dress. “You first.” You stopped his hands, eyeing him. 

He groaned, getting up and ripping off his shirt. 

This was your first time seeing him shirtless in the flesh and you couldn’t help your mouth fall agape as your eyes widened, looking at the intricate tattoos covering his chest. You were desperate to the trace them. Pulling off his sweats, revealing some basic Calvin Kleins, with a large, hard cock straining against them. 

He winked at you “Happy with your choice?” You just nodded shyly as he scooted back onto the bed next to you. 

Hands going to the hem of your dress as he pulled it over your head revealing your matching black lace set. 

“Matching? You definitely planned this.” 

You slapped his chest as he eased you back onto the pillows. 

Mouth falling to yours as he kissed you deeply, hands falling to your hips, grabbing you softly yet firmly. His mouth fell to your jaw, peppering kisses and nipping at the skin of your neck as he made his way towards your bra. 

“As pretty as this is...” he toyed with the lace edging, “Can I take it off?” He looked up at you, hands grabbing the two breasts. 

You just nodded as he smoothed his hands around your back, sitting up a little to allow him to expertly undo the clasp;

“You’ve definitely done that before.” 

“Practise makes perfect baby.” He purred against your lips going into kiss you. His tongue moved down towards your breasts, lightly sucking at the skin of your now erect nipples. You moaned, body instinctively moving into his. 

“Jesus… so perfect baby.” He left out a muffled groan while your tit sat delicately in his warm mouth. Moving towards your stomach, his movements slowed as he explored your bare skin with his fingertips, leaving a soft, wet trail of kisses towards your panties. He pressed his nose against your covered groin, inhaling your sweet scent. Licking at your inner thigh, your hands falling to his head, pushing him further giving him all the encouragement he needed to slowly pull off your panties. Mouth immediately returning to your folds as his tongue explored the insides of your oasis. Licking and sucking at your sensitive, erect clit, leaving you a moaning mess. It felt like he was between your legs for hours, making sure you were a soaking, moaning mess for him. 

“Good girl, god you taste so good baby.” Cumming onto his tongue, he continued to suck up and spit out your precious juices. 

Your hands aimlessly travelled towards his cock desperate to feel his length in your hand. 

“Nah-uh baby tonight’s about you.” He loomed over your now naked figure on his bed, drinking in the sight of you. 

“You can make up for it later.” He whispered in your ear as he sucked on your lobe. He broke the contact monetarily to finally release his now pulsating member, hard and erect with veins pulsating along the length. He was thick with a round, cut bulbous head. Your eyes widened at the sight of it in all its glory, gulping at what was soon to be your fate. 

“We’ll go slow.” He assured you, trying to ease the hesitation in your eyes. He sat over you, hands reaching towards his bedside table pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom. Slowly and delicately, he squirted the sticky liquid into his hand, rubbing it over his length in a teasing rhythmic fashion. Hands falling to your pussy, he slowly pushed a singular digit in, easing the lube in and out as you withered under his touch. Using his outer fingers to rub it on your folds, slowly adding a second finger to stretch you out;

“fuck you’re tight baby” 

“No shit I’m a virgin” you choked out through moans

 “Shit I almost forgot” he chuckled sheepishly.

Slipping in a third finger seamlessly, his other hand working your clit trying to inch you to a second orgasm. Your hand clawed at his forearm at the sheer feeling of you being stretched by his fingers. 

“Oh god Chris.” 

“Gotta make sure you’re all ready for me.” 

“Are your fingers the same size?” 

“Unfortunately… or fortunately… not.” Your head fell back to the pillow as you took in a deep breathe “I’m ready” 

“Are you sure cause we have the whole week we can-“ 

“Stop talking.” You pulled his head in for another passionately, sloppy kiss. 

“Ok ok… shhh. Now, it’s gonna sting at first, for a little bit it’ll feel better if I move,  but I’m not gonna move unless you say so and if it really fucking hurts say chocolate and I’ll stop.” You nodded at his instruction. As he positioned his now wrapped head at your core, making sure you were both overly lube up. 

He pushed his head against your tight hole, he moved inwards slightly earning a groan from you 

“Ooft” 

“You ok?” You nodded, gritting your teeth a little at his size. 

“Is it all in?” 

“That was the head baby.” 

“Fuck.��� 

“Hey it’s ok I’m not gonna move until you tell me to.” You lay like that for a moment, Chris leaving soft kisses on your décolletage. 

“Move.” You told him.

He pushed in a couple of more inches, 3/4 of the way in at this point. Your body jolted at the sudden sensation of being stretched beyond belief, the sting he warned you about forming in your insides. 

“You wont believe me but look really beautiful right now.” He was staring at you in the eyes now, a small smile on his lips as he watched you bite your bottom lip, sweat forming your forehead. 

“I’m gonna kiss you while I push the rest in it’ll help distract you does that sound ok baby?” You nodded, pawing at his neck, desperate to taste him again. 

You gasped into his mouth at the final push, him now sitting tightly between your fold, stretching against your walls. 

You winced slightly at the feeling of being fully stuffed. His lips fell to the tears that you didn’t realise had fallen, kissing your cheek and tasting the salty liquid, “Hey you’re doing so well baby, you’re ok.” 

You stayed like that for a while, adjusting your insides to his length. 

“Move.” 

“You sure?” You confirmed the statement by leaning into kiss him as he started his slow short thrusts, staying firmly inside of you and only moving enough to get you adjusted to the feeling. After a couple of minutes of just that and more passionate kissing, the sting subsided, making way for a new sensation of pleasure and fullness.

“Oh wow, holy shit.” You breathed out 

“Good?” He looked up at you searching for reassurance 

“Really good.” You smiled at him, moaning again at his movements 

“Do you want me to go a little faster?” 

“Please.” You begged out, with that his thrusts turned more natural, as he moved in and out of you, hips pressing against yours as you started to adjust to the rhythm of his drive. Slowly accumulating to the feeling of hot, delicious, pleasurable sex. Chris’s pants grew as he supported himself by his forearms over you. Continuing his assault of his lips over your face and mouth. Deepening the kisses when he hit your cervix, swallowing each other’s moans you grew confident enough to move your hips upwards slightly, allowing a new angle for both of you. 

“Jesus Christ baby that feels fucking amazing.” Proud at your first foray into Sex Goddess status you continued to match his thrusts with a nudge of your hips. Your buttocks squeezing together as the coil in your stomach tightened when his head would hit your G-spot, a previously undiscovered spot of pleasure for you. You fell into a moaning mess begging for a release from what was sure to be an explosive orgasm 

“Chris, I’m gonna cum, omg please don’t stop.” You moaned loudly.

“I’m gonna cum too where you want it?” 

“Just cum in me please.” 

“Oh god Y/N” he let out a guttural moan with his final thrust into you, shooting out his cum as you creamed over his cock. 

Slowly pulling out gently, you whined at the loss of contact. He collapsed in a heap of heavy breaths beside you. Both of you now, spent from the intimate and passionate activity. He got up towards the bathroom, you heard the water running but with your eyes blurry from the orgasm still, you didn’t think you could find the strength to lift your head. Suddenly you felt the cool press of a wet rag against your heat, sopping up the mixture of your cum and lube. You opened your eyes to see him gently cleaning you up with the soft cotton towel. “That was-“ you breathed out. “Amazing.” He smirked at you. 

“Happy with your first time?” 

“As long as it’s not the last.” 

“Oh, it won’t be, but you do need to pee first… here.” Chris held out his hand, easing you up out of your euphoric state, up to your legs. Placing you gently, on the toilet seat, you sat loopy from your orgasm. Chris leaned against the sink, watching you with a smug smirk 

“A little privacy?” You looked up at you, lazily covering your chest. 

“Nope I need to make sure you pee.” 

“You’re a freak.” 

“It’s going to take a lot from you to get rid of me.”   

“Lucky I’m planning on keeping you around.” You blew him a kiss.

Chris brought you breakfast in bed the next morning, softly rubbing the sore spots you had never felt before as you ate. Ravenous after a beautiful passionate night. 

You moved to get out of bed, wanting to inspect yourself in the mirror.

“Y/N I wouldn’t try and wal-“ With the final word, your legs gave out like jelly and you plopped onto the soft carpet with a dramatic ow falling from your mouth.

“Walk.” Chris finished, coming around to help you up. 

“How did you know that was gonna happen?” You asked as he grabbed your hands, pulling you back onto the bed.

“You’re not the first.” He grumbled. 

[softquietsteadylove]

ahhh can we see protective gil in circus au? there’s no way he’s letting her stay locked up forever!

Eyes followed as Thena finally emerged from the sleeper car. She wasn't dressed for rehearsal, she was wearing a regular old dress. Everyone stared but no one dared say a word.

She walked confidently enough, even though she had a beast of a man trailing behind her. He met every pair of eyes with a glare, practically growling at them all like a dog. Although no one would have described him as the guard dog type. He was the one who had locked her up, after all.

Gil almost cried when he saw her.

Thena looked well, but also terrible. She was dressed in her soft, cream coloured dress, and her hair was free and flying around her shoulders. But she looked exhausted, like she hadn't seen the sun in a week and barely eaten.

Gil had been waiting for her to rejoin them for what certainly felt like a week but he knew was less. He had tried to exchange words with her, whisper through the slats of the car window, anything. But since the kiss they had shared, Kro had hardly left her side.

But Kro didn't cut a protective picture. He looked like the spectre of death, hunched over and looming behind her. Like a gargoyle on an old building watching over something possessively.

"Miss," some of the guys from the crew dared to nod their heads to her as she passed them to reach the stew pots with today's lunch.

Kro stared them down for it.

She nodded back to them, a faint smile on her lips. Gil didn't have to hear her say a word to know she was tired. The way she moved said everything. He set down the supplies he had been helping move and walked over.

"Vet."

"Boss," he greeted with a harsh tone but the right word. He didn't let his eyes drift to Thena at all, but he wasn't about to stand by and let Kro bully her with silence either. "Think we'll be ready for the next show?"

If Kro knew his real intentions, he said nothing. He kept his eyes on him as well. "Replacement wire won't be easy to get. But I don't want to miss any more shows than we already have."

The greatest shock to all of them had been when Kro had not let Thena out of her cage and instead actually cancelled their last show. It was possible to perform without the high wire, technically. And of course any normal show would cancel due to the safety concern.

But Kro wasn't normal, and everyone had speculated even more at the missed opportunity to naturally see if Thena was alive and well with their own eyes.

"You could always let us go into town to find some."

The train always stopped outside of town, for obvious reasons. But if they needed supplies, Kro would go himself, in the past. He didn't let them go into town to meander and mingle. He said it was to prevent them from getting drunk or hungover or god forbid arrested. In reality, it was for the sake of control over them.

"I'll go tomorrow."

Thena set down her bowl. Was just that too tiring for her? "We can do the show without it."

Gil was shocked that the suggestion had come from her. Shouldn't she have been the one most eager to do away with the damned routine risking her life? But he still didn't give Kro the window of opportunity. "Should probably get a net too, right?"

Breaths were held. He was poking the bear, and he knew it. Kro always said he felt strongly about not using a net. A net would imply he didn't have faith in his wife, in his own words. It had nothing to do with the extra expense and set up time.

Kro stepped closer to him. Thena hovered between them distance wise, her back still turned. "I still have faith in my wife, despite the unfortunate incident."

Gil bit his tongue on the subject of faith in his wife. But he couldn't help letting his eyes say a little more as he spoke, "I have faith in Thena. But maybe your faith isn't enough."

Kro leaned right into his vision, baring his teeth at him like a dog. "Are you questioning my wife?"

"Thena is safe," Gil met his eye without fear. He could press their heads together so hard they bled, he didn't care. "That's all that matters."

Thena turned, putting her hand on Kro's arm. "Let's go."

But Kro didn't budge. He kept his eyes on Gil but he moved his hand to grasp the arm she was using. "Don't interrupt, dearest."

Gil gripped Kro's shirt in his fists. "Why did she wince?"

"What?"

But Gil didn't let up. He dragged Kro forward and up and away from Thena. His vision blurred of everything except the monster in his grasp. "You grabbed her arm, she winced. Is she hurt?"

"I would never lay a hand on her!" Kro roared at him. He wasn't exactly lifted off the ground, being taller than Gil even. He grabbed Gil's shirt as well, the two of them pulling nowhere.

"I've seen you do it before," Gil growled. He could remember clear as day when Kro grabbed Thena by the arm - the first night she had kissed him - and dragged her away under the moonlight.

He tossed Kro back, immediately turning to Thena. His hands hovered around the sleeves of her dress, coming just low enough. His fingertips brushed her soft skin. She felt cold. "Are you okay?"

She didn't deny anything, just looked at him. "He didn't hurt me Gil, just grabs sometimes."

His face darkened.

"Don't, Gil," she whispered, trying to talk him down from the precipice. "I know he's a bastard but don't--you don't want this fight."

He just barely pushed her sleeve up, seeing the faint bruising appear from where Kro had taken her entire, delicate arm in his beastly paw of a hand. He snarled.

"Gil," she repeated louder, but it felt like he was hearing her through water. His vision blurred even more. He'd never understood 'seeing red' before. "He will kill you."

As if he could abide something like this.

[highlordofkrypton]

CHAPTER 2 UPDATE

SUMMARY: Tamlin is sent by his father to mentor under the famed Bruce Wayne at Wayne Enterprises, and perhaps steal some insider information. Bruce and Clark are a married Alpha x Alpha couple trying for their first child, all while helping Tamlin learn about himself and love. Oh, and Rhysand is some hotshot club owner Omega pretending to be an Alpha.

This chapter has a little Lucien cameo, too!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I couldn't post the first chapter on Tumblr because it was way too smutty.

READ ON UNDER THE CUT OR ON AO3.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come? It’s not too late to book a flight.”

The airport bustles with life, and Tamlin presses the phone against his ear. He picks up his luggage, just a few key items in an overly expensive bag. Anything else he needs can be purchased here, or already has been as is his parents preference. Everything in his life, from clothes to purpose, has been selected for him by his father. On less important occasions, his mother might have a say instead.

“I’m sure. I think it’ll be good for you, Tam, really. I doubt Bruce Wayne is going to report your every move to your father.” On the other end of the line, Lucien shuffles some things around and gets comfortable. “This is your chance to let loose. Have fun. Do things you wouldn’t normally do back home.”

“Hm, like date a beta? I’m sure I’ll have room in my apartment here for Jes too.”

“Don’t start. You and I both know if I leave, I’m never coming back. She has family here. I can’t just whisk her away.”

“Take her family, too,” Tamlin suggests, even if he knows it isn’t as easy as that.

A driver awaits him; there’s no whiteboard with his name, just a recognition and a nod. The suited man confirms his identity while taking his bags and loading them into the car. Tamlin slides into the backseat, refusing to hang up—that would mean he’s truly alone here, across an entire ocean from everything that’s familiar to him.

“Did you forget who my father is? He will find me,” Lucien sighs. “You can do this. Call me whenever you need, but promise me you’ll try to be a bit adventurous.”

Tamlin sighs. It’s not a promise he thinks he can keep. His life has been so deeply rooted in his father’s routine that this must be a test. His father must have other means of surveilling him, and the second he deviates from his training, he’ll know and call him back. The punishment— gods —the punishment—

“Tam? Promise me? I can hear you overthinking all of this.”

“Yeah,” Tamlin says softly. “I’ll try.”

Gotham City is crowded. It lacks the beauty of home , and the history of it. There’s a smell that irritates Tamlin’s nose, though it’s much more faint inside the car. He watches the people on the street and the dark buildings with curiosity. Which of these will be his home for the next year? Will he have favourite little shops? Lucien told him to try, and maybe he should. He’s never been a regular at a coffee shop. That seems like a novel idea. Yes, that will be his one thing. That and American jeans . Lucien will get a kick out of that.

The car pulls up to the tallest building in the city, a black intimidating structure with a large W at its very top. It’s impossible to mistake it for anything other than Wayne Enterprises. The driver opens his door, and promises that all his things will be delivered and unpacked at his apartment—a penthouse at the fanciest hotels in Gotham. Tamlin thanks him politely, and makes his way up to the meeting. Leave it to his father to plan back to back appointments. There is no time to rest, Tamlin should always be moving or learning. Something productive. Time is money and his third unplanned child is an expense that needs to start paying itself back.

He’s not made to wait at the entrance; security welcomes him in, as if he has always been under Bruce Wayne’s care. They greet him by name, and offer him water, coffee, tea and everything else he can imagine at every turn. Tamlin is set up in a meeting room with glass walls—one side that overlooks the skyline, and the other facing the hallway. Tamlin chooses a seat near the entrance, facing it, but also staying close to the head of the table. This way, he will greet Mr. Wayne accordingly and in a timely fashion. On his feet before Mr. Wayne ever needs to tell him how to be a proper heir.

Bruce is nothing like Tamlin imagined. He looks younger than his age, a man in excellent health and clearly a dominant alpha, but he also seems… older than the rumours. Both he and Lucien had looked up the famous Brucie Wayne —playboy, philanthropist and billionaire. It seemed almost unbelievable that Tamlin’s strict traditions-driven father would leave him in the hands of someone so wild , which is why this has to be a test. In recent years, Bruce Wayne has stayed out of the spotlight. Aside from the expected mentions of him in regards to Wayne Enterprises, the scandals have been… non-existent.

Bruce is nothing like Tamlin imagines, grinning happily in the hallway, shooing away a glasses wearing… employee? The way they look at each other is intimate. Tamlin flushes, and glances away, granting privacy they did not ask for, but surely deserve.

Lucien would be a better fit here .

He’d know what to do, or say, if there’s anything to say at all. He’s experienced with the break in etiquette. All Tamlin can do is scramble to his feet when the older man enters, and carry himself with the pride his father beat into him.

“Mr. Wayne, thank you for taking me in.” Like a stray, unwanted by his family. “I look forward to learning from you. I’ll make sure not to inconvenience you.”

The smile on Bruce’s face fades into something more muted. The cock of his dark brow is much louder, questioning and confused. Did Tamlin… make a mistake? Bruce motions to him to have a seat.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too. No need to be so formal.” He unbuttons his jacket, sitting beside Tamlin. Bruce looks perfectly at home in the meeting room, even in the standard bulk-bought office chair. He belongs here, like the building itself was built around him; he didn’t just pin his name onto it. “I run things a little differently than your father does. I’m a little less… Hm,” Bruce hums, tipping his head to the side. He searches for the right word. “More relaxed . You should think of this more as a sabbatical than a mentorship.”

“I… Don’t understand, sir. I came to work under you and learn from someone as accomplished as you.”

A soft chuckle escapes Bruce. “Privileged is the word you’re looking for. Anyone else would have done greater things than I have, but I try my best. That’s what matters.” He rests his hand on the table, watching Tamlin with his blue eyes. Tamlin shifts, uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

“What are your interests,” Bruce asks.

“I…” Don’t have any .

This meeting is slowly turning into Tamlin’s worst nightmare. He’d much, much prefer it if Bruce would just tell him what to do, then send him off. He should have had Lucien in his ear telling him what to say. He scrambles to sprout a personality in the next thirty seconds.

“I like sports.”

It’s a horrible recovery, but Bruce doesn’t question him. He just nods, asking more about the types of sports that Tamlin enjoys. Bruce is nice , but the lack of formality means that there are no rules to this interaction. Bruce is supposed to be his superior, and Tamlin should shape himself to him.

“Breathe, Tamlin. We’re just getting to know each other. Was there something you wanted to learn, more specifically? Or anything you wanted to do?”

God, did he forget how to breathe ? He’s suddenly overly conscious of the cadence of his breath.

“Anything you need help with, or wherever you’ll place me is fine.” There’s an eagerness in his voice, either to be done with this conversation, or to just get moving . With a role, the lines will be much, much clearer.

Bruce’s expression softens. “Alright, how about we start with a tour? Maybe you’ll see something that sparks your interest.”

The tour is much easier to deal with. Simple greetings, and listening to Bruce talk. Granted, he’d expected his assistant to be the one to take him around, not the CEO himself. Tamlin speaks when spoken to. Accounting, finance, human resources, information technologies—all of these are more or less the same as his father’s company. Tamlin receives a crash course in the different industries Wayne Enterprises dabbles in, and while it’s interesting , nothing strikes him.

No, it’s lunch that captures Tamlin’s attention.

Yes, the food, but Bruce is pulling out a very childish and very embarrassing Superman lunchbox. There’s a full spread of gourmet sandwiches in front of him, along with a salad bar for two people, and yet, Bruce unpacks his own pre-cut homemade sandwich, cut fruit, cheese and nuts. Bruce looks completely unbothered by the ridiculousness.

“If you keep your mouth open like that, flies will get in,” Bruce says casually, while sliding Tamlin half of his sandwich. “My husband made it, and since you’ve already seen him, I figure we can skip the pretenses.”

Tamlin’s hand goes immediately to Bruce’s ring finger.

“We’re mostly private,” says the older man, clocking Tamlin’s instinct to check.

“I can’t have your sandwich, sir. Your husband made it for you.”

“On the contrary, he’d be offended if I didn’t share with the doe-eyed newcomer.”

“D-Doe eyed?”

“Well, it’s a lot closer to deer-in-headlights, if you ask me,” Bruce grins.

Tamlin flushes, embarrassed. He’s being made fun of, isn’t he?

Bruce says nothing, biting into his sandwich happily. He doesn’t feel the need to fill the air, and Tamlin simply follows his lead. The lettuce crunches between his teeth, and there’s a moisture inside the sandwich that is unlike any other. His mother rarely cooks, and while the food made by their chef is always good, this is so different . This is homemade , the kind of food they always talk about on television and social media. The kind of food children come home for in college.

“It’s good.” Tamlin sounds almost shocked.

“I’ll let him know, he’ll be pleased. Don’t be surprised if you get invited for dinner sooner or later.”

He doesn’t say anything more, enjoying his share of the delicious sandwich. He’s too shy to eat more, but Bruce slides the rest of his snacks over, which Tamlin is also too polite to refuse. 

“When did you… get married?” 

The question is asked cautiously, for fear of intruding on Bruce’s personal life. He’d made a point to say they were private. Perhaps it isn’t too late to retract it.

“Five years ago, but we’ve known each other professionally for decades.” Bruce smirks, leaning on his elbow. “Why? Are you looking to settle down? How old are you? Twenty-four? Twenty-five?”

“I turn twenty-seven this week.”

“ This week? And your father sent you here?”

“My education is important.”

“Agree to disagree. We’ll have a party.”

“I, no, that’s not—”

“Have you ever properly celebrated like a kid your age?”

“I don’t need a party, I’m not a kid either.”

“Well, have you?”

“My brothers took me drinking when I turned eighteen.”

“And?”

“I threw up. A lot.”

Bruce sighs, sitting back in his chair. He waves the memory away, more than ready to help Tamlin make new ones. “No, that’s not how you do it. There’s a fine line between getting shit-faced and having a real blast. It’ll be your first lesson in letting go .”

Tamlin doesn’t really have a choice, does he? He just smiles awkwardly, accepting his fate. How does he manage to convince Bruce to give up on his peaceful life on his first day ? His father is going to kill him. Oh, without a doubt.

[queerworldtravelers]

Sidi Bou Saïd, Tunisia

36°52′0″N, 10°20′0″E

The time had come for us to head back to the US. Our second Schengen visa was nearly up and we have a 90th birthday party and a wedding to go to. It turns out that air fare this summer is wildly expensive. A one-way flight from Rome to New York started at $2,000 each and kept increasing in price. There had to be another way! Lucky for us Google Flights lets you search from an airport and see flight costs for anywhere in the world. After a little digging we discovered a $500 flight from Tunis, Tunisia to New York City with a layover in Casablanca. Rock on!

Getting from Palermo to Tunis can be accomplished in two ways: an expensive one hour flight or a cheaper ten hour ferry ride. We opted for the ferry ride because when else will we get the chance to cross the Mediterranean? We also anticipated that the border control at the port would be less picky than at the airport and we were dancing really, really close to a creative interpretation of Schengen visa laws. In retrospect we encourage anyone considering this journey to take the plane.

We had to check in for the ferry at 6:30am and there was no ferry at the port. Interesting. We picked a spot under a tree and posted up for the next four hours. We packed a lot of snacks because everyone said the ferry was a nightmare. We watched as cars piled with suitcases filed into lines to board the ship once it actually arrived. At the border control station I handed over my passport not thinking anything of it and nearly had a heart attack when the agent started flipping through our entry and exit stamps and then counting on his fingers! Thankfully we had nine days left from our last entry stamp and proof of an onward journey. Never underestimate the port.

The ferry ride was wild and truly a beautiful cultural experience. We were corralled and pushed on board and then took our pullman seats that we paid to reserve only to observe that general deck passage gets you on board and then you just go look around for an empty seat. Brilliant. We left port at 2:30pm (our original departure time was supposed to be 10:30am). It was sort of like a dirty mall with lots of kids throwing shoes at the wall and running up and down the stairs. Not completely horrible, but also not a sought after experience. We arrived at the Port of La Goulette at 12:30am and witnessed an almost stampede to get off the boat.

We read that the border control in Tunis can be formidable and we were prepared for bribes. We printed every single document for where we planned to be between the port and New York City in French, Arabic, and English and arranged to have our host pick us up.

Often while traveling US passports afford a privilege that others are not privy to. Tunis was an example of this. We handed over our US passports and were shooed through every check station with very little questioning.

Our host Nabil was a saint! When we exited the border control station the sidewalks were packed with people offering rides, selling food, and looking for their loved ones. Nabil swooped us up and then gave us a driving tour of Carthage on the way to Sidi Bou Saïd. He pointed out the best grocery store (where they won’t charge the Americans 5x more) and the best bank to exchange money at. As soon as our heads hit the pillow we were out!

The next morning we stopped by the café Nabil suggested for a rose cardamom latte (WOW) and then adventured to the grocery store. Dates and amazing cans covered in Arabic script full of harissa met us as we collected provisions for the week.

It was also at least 110°F every day we were there. In a stroke of genius we realized we could start shifting our schedule to match New York City time and take advantage of the cooler nights, so that is exactly what we did!

Tucked on the main street in Sidi Bou is a gorgeous homage to traditional Tunisian life. Dar El Annabi feels like someone just stopped living in the house and set up a ticket booth at the front door in the 90s. Traditional and historical items surround things like a VCR. The views from the top were really special and being able to enter the prayer rooms and drink mint tea were appreciated privileges.

From 1909-1921 a French painter named Rodolphe d'Erlanger had the Ennejma Ezzahra Palace built (Tunisia was a French colony from 1881-1956). He is said to be responsible for funding and implementing the white and blue building motifs throughout Sidi Bou Saïd. The palace was a gift to wander through. It took us a bit to find the door, but once we did it did not disappoint.The day we visited was a toasty 114°F and the palace was cool and refreshing inside. A true testament to the power of engineering in the days before air conditioning. Today, the palace is a museum that houses the Center for Arabic and Mediterranean Music. You can tour the palace virtually and listen to the music collection!

The Tunis médina is a wandering, mystical maze of goods trading. From the 12th-16th centuries Tunis was considered one of the greatest and wealthiest cities in the Islamic world. The médina is centered around a central mosque and the souqs (shops) radiate out in all directions. We dove in and headed to Dar Slah for a nourishing and traditional Tunisian lunch. Imagine lamb roasted with potatoes, dates, and figs. We then hit the narrow alleys in search of goods to stuff into our packs for the folks we love. The whole complex is below ground apparently so when camels came in loaded with goods they could be easily unloaded. It also kept everything refreshingly cool compared to the ambient temperature outside.

We had been warned that folks will approach you and act as your friend, making suggestions, and showing you things you must see only to demand payment for their services at the end. We wandered in and looked around and tried to find our way and then we got twisted around. As soon as we passed the same point for a third time a man popped out and started to suggest, guide, and ask questions in very good English. We also read that a firm “no thank you” usually does the trick. We are here to report that five firm no thank yous released us from the spell of the unwanted guide. A little flustered, we attempted to make our way back toward the entry gate and somehow ended up in the back alleys outside of the beaten path. Five months in the Ballarò, which is truly just a one thousand year old Arabic médina stuffed in what is today considered Italy, prepared us to tread bravely through the trash-ridden streets as we passed dead kittens swept up with the rest of the day's waste. We made it back to the beaten path with no incidents at all, but have a deep and profound understanding for the mysticism of One Thousand and One Nights as it sort of felt like we were lost for that long.

The greatest gift of being in Tunisia was the undeniable kindness of her people. We have been on the road for nearly a year now and the kindness we encountered in Tunisia is second to none.

We made our way to the airport and flew Royal Air Maroc to Casablanca. We can not recommend them enough! The seats had ample leg room and they fed us on a three hour flight! In Casablanca we just booked a hotel by the airport and discovered that if you have a layover longer than eight hours Royal Air Maroc will put you up in a hotel and pay for it! Next time, friends, next time. We arranged an evening tour of the sights and we are so glad we had a tour guide! He picked us up and took us around to the key places, Hassan II Mosque, Rick’s Cafe, and the médina. We aren’t normally big sight people, but getting between places was most fascinating.

Our flight to JFK was early and it was fun to slowly collect the familiar swagger of the Americans as we waited at the gate. We have new eyes that can clearly see what makes us so unmistakable in the rest of the world. We were also swiftly reminded that black bodies are not safe in the presence of authorities in the United States as we navigated Moroccan customs with a black man from New York City. There was no denying we were headed back.

[scumtrout]

Things that are bruising my fruit lately:

Would it be useful to think of consciousness as an extremely convoluted classification algorithm? I've not read anything in neuroscience to support this and/or seen any actual frickin scientists suggest it, but the vast majority of my conscious thoughts involve classifying things ('this cookie dough is delicious') and finding patterns/similarities with other stuff I've classified ('this cookie dough tastes like fudge') or dissimilarities ('I am not cookie dough; I am scumtrout, an entity who is distinctly separate from the cookie dough... EVEN WHEN I EAT THE COOKIE DOUGH'.)

One side of my family has interpersonal drama occasionally, and it's like... You people have known each other for years. You should be familiar with how you behave. I have disliked some of these people since I was a kid, for fuck's sake. Yet actual adults behave exactly as expected and then fall out with each other and I'm just like [surprised Pikachu face].

I am not a perfect person but I do look at my relatives and think 'where the fuck did my emotional regulation come from? How am I not... worse?'

I had a relatively randomly drop dead recently and now I have to ruminate on such things as 'life is never ideal but you have to fight tooth and nail to find meaning because you only get one shot. Hate yourself? Cool but you only get one shot at life. Feeling ugly? Cool but you only get one shot at life. Unstable relationships? Cool but you only get one shot at life. Spent long periods of time in circumstances that are less than ideal? Cool but you only get one shot at life' etc. Also I have money, which is good, but the amount of money somehow falls into overlapping Venn circles of 'not enough to comfortably afford property or a fancy car' and 'enough money that you're fucking dumb if you don't do something with it'. Although I guess that by postponing spending it on expensive assets, I am doing something with it: I'm keeping it as Fuck You money. That money is basically my peace of mind that prevents me from living paycheck to paycheck or having to do jobs I dislike. Technically I should be using the money to GET MORE MONEY instead of spending in on assets that incur further costs like property or vehicles' but... fuck. The problem with money and jobs etc is that you only ever look at people who are doing better than you and you think 'why am I not like that >:(' instead of looking at people who are doing worse.

I spent 3 minutes today thinking about trying to get a job in Spain before God grabbed me by the shoulders and yelled, 'YOU HAVE NO DATA TO INDICATE THAT THE SPANISH ECONOMY WILL FARE ANY BETTER THAN THE UK'S DURING THE NEXT 10 YEARS. ALSO YOU CAN'T EVEN BE BOTHERED TO TRY GETTING A JOB IN SCOTLAND.'

That said, while I have some money and a body that is mostly functional, I think I should travel more to other countries, but... Again, fuck. I hate airports, and in my free time, I just want to go for a silly little walk up a silly little hill. I have a finite amount of annual leave, and the further abroad I travel, the more things there are to go wrong. Also even when things go right, sometimes you're looking at a 9 hour flight, which either has to be endured in economy (meh) or business (but then costs around 2k!!!1fuck). It'd be nice if I could reach a point where I could say 'FUCK IT, I'M GOING TO QUIT MY JOB AND JUST FUCK AROUND EUROPE FOR A YEAR' but then I'd worry about getting back into the workforce afterward. And I sort of try to develop skills that'd be useful freelance (the constraint is my energy levels after doing my day job) but there's a lot to be said with having a salaried position that includes cheaper dental/medical insurance.

I have no excuse for not going to Scotland or Ireland though. You can fucking see Ireland from parts of Cumbria. For many years English people have looked at Ireland from afar and thought, 'how can we be horrible bastards to those people over there? how can we eat all their food?'

[iicraft505]

Gah, I just can't get over the group I had for a discussion

"I was under the impression pharmacies get the pills in large amounts and then count them out into the pill bottles" after I mentioned that glass pill bottles would require more packaging... like yeah but the pill bottles don't spawn in the pharmacy, they have to get them somehow. And "how many people are recycling their pill bottles" I hope everybody? It takes two seconds and you don't even have to rinse them or anything? Just take your sticker off? I get being concerned about pill bottle waste and medical waste in general but like. That Is Not the biggest problem by a long shot.

"Yeah but then that takes a lot of water" about rinsing out laundry detergent jugs....... like maybe it's just a me thing but given I live in the midwest water is not my principle concern? I'd rather everything that's perfectly recyclable that goes through my house goes into the recycling bin, and that I do my best to make sure it will actually be recyclable and won't ruin the "batch" of recycling? Not that water conservation isn't important to me but I guess at some level I still don't really understand. Like I understand intellectually how water can be a finite resource despite the water cycle and I understand the concept of depleted groundwater being permanent because the pockets the air was in condense, but at some level I'm like "but the water cycle...." Also detergent sheets are expensive (at least i think?) and Also Also how is a bag of detergent pods better than the big container? is it just less plastic? Okay fine I get it, but is said bag of plastic more readily recyclable? Also I swear I like this person but it reeked of trying to sell us something....

Also that from the same person that said stopping use of cars altogether isn't practical like. Car use is a way bigger problem than any of those because even electric cars have all the same road problems. But like yeah obviously it's not practical and I don't think we'll ever "get rid" of cars (at least not anytime soon) but still, as a goal?

And Maybe I got a little bit too opinionated and Maybe I shouldn't have suggested cars when my opinion on them is so out there in offline spaces but when I started getting too adventurous with what our goal for our group exit ticket should be the pill bottle person suggested washing hands??? like my guy, this is an environmental science/geoscience course, our goal should be environmental?

Also we know disincentives don't work for reducing car use and there was an example of that IN SOMETHING WE READ FOR THAT CLASS because either people find a way around it that makes things worse or you just make them really mad, you have to make alternative methods of transportation attractive!!!! Also why THE FUCK did we go for tolls instead of taxes? Like yeah the money was (in this hypothetical) going to making public transit cheaper (just busses though, since that's all my city has), but tolls? When I ranted about this on a discord the following was enjoyed: are you dumb or stupid?

Oh yeah. and then when I was walking back to my dorm already Pissed The Fuck Off or at least Wired in that way and worried because I respect at least one of those people and I didn't want to be seen as The Weirdo (I hate when people get too opinionated in class discussions) and also I felt like I was being laughed at? idk man. some asshole was fucking riding his moped in a way that made it unclear where I was safe to go and some people came out of one of the buildings and told this guy on a motorcycle to "hit it" and revved it super loudly? that shit hurted by ears also youre not cool bro pretty sure that's bad for the engine

Also I probably won't get over it any time soon since I'm still annoyed about the thing that happened last weekend so whomst knows.

[investoptionwin]

Know What To Look For On Auto Insurance

If people talk their automobile insurance at all, it is most likely because the monthly premiums are just too high. Well, there are many ways you can work to bring down the cost of your insurance without allowing the quality of your coverage to suffer. You can also apply some suggestions that could keep you from inadvertently gettin into trouble. Learn about a few of them below. The year and options on your vehicle will play a large roll in how much your insurance premium is. Having a newer car with lots of safety features can save you some, but if you have it financed you will also have to pay more for full coverage. When considering auto insurance for a young driver, be sure to check with multiple insurance agencies to not only compare rates, but also any perks that they might include. It also cannot hurt to shop around once a year to see if any new perks or discounts have opened up with other companies. If you do find a better deal, let your current provider know about it to see if they will match. Reassess what kind of car you are driving. Your car insurance premiums may be based on what kind of car you are driving. Sportier cars or SUV's can carry higher premiums because they have more liability and they are generally more expensive to replace or fix when they have been damaged. If vehicle insurance want to save a lot of money on automobile insurance, you can waive almost every type of insurance available except for state-mandated liability coverage. Liability coverage protects other drivers on the road more than you, so this is required for all drivers. But other types of coverage are not required and you can save big money by leaving them off. If you have other drivers on your insurance policy, remove them to get a better deal. Most insurance companies have a "guest" clause, meaning that you can occasionally allow someone to drive your car and be covered, as long as they have your permission. If your roommate only drives your car twice a month, there's no reason they should be on there! If you want to lower your monthly payment to the lowest that is legally possible, raise the deductibles on your car insurance. The higher the deductible is set the lower your premiums are going to be. Check with the lien holder to be sure that there is not a minimum that it has to be set at. It is vital that when making an automobile accident claim, that you have all the information available for the insurance company. Without it, your claim may not go through. Some things you need to have ready for them include the make and year of the car you got into an accident with, how many people were in each car, what kinds of injuries were sustained, and where and when it happened. Pay a yearly sum for your automobile insurance. Some companies charge a little more to put their customers on a monthly billing plan. If you are able to pay off the bill in one lump sum for the year, you could save some money and you will have one less bill to worry about. You should choose a popular and recent vehicle over anything else. If your vehicle needs to be repaired, parts will be easy to find and remain relatively cheap. With an older model, you might have to order the parts or with a rare foreign brand, have the parts shipped from overseas. This will raise your insurance, or not be covered by it. Since your car insurance premium is based on your past credit history and ratings, be sure you pay all your bills on time. This will keep your credit in good shape and ensure you are receiving the lowest insurance rates, because they are based on your credit report and history. Making coverage work for you, and bringing down your monthly payments is what it's all about. Make sure you're applying these expert tips in order to get the best possible insurance package. It's not enough just to read and learn them; you have to be ready to use them. Next time you talk about insurance, you'll have some interesting tips to share!

[arthrimyalgia]

I have made separate post giving updates but I haven't updated this post yet, so here we go. My roommate/best friend and I had to resort to staying at an Airbnb in a much more expensive city. We really lucked out with the Airbnb hosts, and the apartment we are staying at is well furnished and stocked. However, it's three times the amount of money to stay here than our old house, and we are both struggling to adjust to this new city and find jobs.

We don't have a car but I made sure to find a place that has decent public transportation, so we are able to take the bus places now. Our old town didn't even have a bus system because it was so small and rural. We are adjusting to this new city and how to get around.

My bestie found a job, but from the start it was extremely toxic and chalk full of red flags. They ended up threatening to write him up on his THIRD day of computer training because they expected him to somehow cram 16+ hours of training into 10 hours. They were already breathing down his neck and watching him like hawks, being completely rude and insulting him for his age and saying our generation is lazy.. The entire place was soulless and full of utter bullshit rules. One of his co-workers was written up just for lifting a box the wrong way. I told him to get out before they burnt him out completely, and to look for a different job. He probably worked about 12 hours total before throwing in the towel. With his chronic fatigue, current paranoia and stress, and his likelihood of autistic burnout, and the minimum wage and expected maximum effort, it just wasn't worth it for his mental and physical health. He is going to have a couple of rest days and will be scheduling interviews for next week. I really believe in him, he just has been out of work for the past couple of years so he needs to be able to adjust.

I was able to find a part time job in retail that barely pays over minimum wage, I am not sure how many hours I will get since my schedule is pretty limited due to relying on the bus schedule. I was told some weeks I may get 12 hours, and others I'll get 20, and that it will depend on my limited availability. I really am hoping it's on the higher end of the spectrum, but I have to be prepared for it not to be. I should be starting this job next Thursday and will luckily be paid weekly, but I am unsure of how this will work out in the long run.

We are fortunate that we got our tax returns at the perfect time to pay for a second month in our Airbnb, and I am glad I got some credit cards right before moving to keep us afloat until we get paid. But I am already paying $400 a month on both a loan and my debt consolidation, which are paying for closed credit cards I still owe so much money on. I am terrified I will trap myself in the exact same situation with these new cards. I was struggling all of last year trying to manage my chronic pain and my mental health with my job, and I ended up making less than $15k all year due to it. I can't afford to be stuck in that situation this year, not with prices rising the way they are.

I am incredibly grateful to those who have donated to me so far, I don't have the words. I was so happy with my second donation that I was able to buy myself a cane, something I have been needing for a long time to help manage my pain in my legs. But I really haven't gotten much, and I am at a loss of what to do. At this point I am begging for help, for advice, for anything. I am petrified and have so much trauma around financial stuff like this. This situation isn't ideal but I know I can make it work if we can both get decent jobs and work together, I just need a little extra help in the beginning..

Please if you have any suggestions or advice or are able to afford it, please help us in anyway you can if you're able. I am quite literally begging. From the bottom of my heart I am so grateful for anything anyone can offer us. I am so thankful for those who have shared this post, and those who have been fortunate enough to be in a position to be able to donate. I know it's not something everyone can do, I completely understand. Even just sharing this and boosting it would mean the world to me. I know that is all I am able to do as someone struggling financially. Every note counts though.

Again, if it's something people are interested in I will try my hand at art or writing commissions. I have written 50k+ fanfictions in the past that I am quite embarrassed about, but I promise I am really proud of my writing and think I really can create something beautiful. I am out of practice with my art, but I have retained a lot of muscle memory and can whip up some nice portraits and love to play with color. I need some practice again, I have just been so stressed I can't even think of what to start with. It's difficult to create for myself when I am so frozen in fear. But if you have a character or a friend you would like me to draw a portrait of, I will try my very best to create something beautiful for you. Honestly just hit me up and give me an offer. Maybe I should try to dig up some old art and writings and see if anyone would be interested? I have a unique style of digital painting, I just lack inspiration.

I am desperate and I am begging, please share this and help boost my voice. Thank you so much. 💕

Just got an 90 day eviction notice today.. I have no idea what we're going to do. My savings shrank down to $800 due to hour cuts at work.. I don't have a car and I live out in the country in a city with no public transportation. I am taking this entire thing in okay but gotta admit I have no clue how we are going to manage this along with disabilities and no car. I feel scared but I am trying to be brave.

[solomons-finest-rum]

Can I request a fic where Leo Demidov falls in love at first sight? What is his mindset like, his rationale? Does he try to rationale it? Or just run with it

“Wild Horses” (Leo Demidov x fem!Reader) — PART 2

SUMMARY — As soon as Leo is properly introduced to your lavish lifestyle and the prominent figures your father surrounds himself with, a thought hits him that perhaps this had all been a massive mistake...

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Thank you Anon for requesting this as I think changing the perspective for a little bit improved this series greatly!!! And what a wonderful journey it was to get into Leo's head. He truly is the sweetest 💗💗💗 Though I hope I still made him believable. I know that lately I keep you all waiting a bit longer, but I hope that this chapter will make up for it, I made sure it’s extra long and extra romantic! The next installment for this series will be fulfilling the last request, so I suppose it will be the final part, 3/3. Unless someone wants to read more about these two? I honestly wouldn’t protest, I love them to bits!

WORD COUNT — 2,888

READ PART 1 HERE

Masterlist

As soon as Leo drove up to the mansion and witnessed its monstrous glory up close, a thought hit him that perhaps this had all been a massive mistake. Nevertheless, he was a man of his word and an invitation from your father had been responded to. Leo parked the car beside the others on the driveway and to his dismay two valets appeared by his side—seemingly out of nowhere—presumably to take the keys and his bags.

“Captain Demidov,” a man’s booming voice greeted him and Leo groaned internally at the volume. “Welcome. I’m Grigorievich, the head butler.”

Leo frowned and nodded, unsure how to react to that. While the institution of a domestic worker was not entirely eradicated under the Great Soviet State, the employment of servants of any kind was still unusual.

“Please follow me,” Grigorievich said and Leo had no other option but to follow him inside. “You will be located in the Green Room on the second floor, along with the other guests.”

“The other guests?” Leo asked, suddenly alarmed.

“Why, yes. Tomorrow is Miss Y/N’s birthday.”

A less than enthusiastic “Fuck!” seemed the only suitable reaction in Leo’s understanding, however, he pretended the news was no news at all.

The butler talked as he led Leo upstairs, followed closely by the two valets with his luggage. It felt surreal to say the least, especially combined with the grandeur of the mansion. The expensive wallpaper, the beautiful art decorating the main hallway and the enthusiasm of the staff suggested wealth and privilege Leo was really not accustomed to.

“Is it a large party?” he asked Grigorievich when they reached the second floor.

“Not at all.”

The light one was not reassuring in the slightest. Leo clung then to the one thing he knew about you that was certain—you were shy and you hated dancing. Surely if this was your birthday party, you would not make a big event out of it…

—on top of all that, Leo still couldn’t figure out why in hell would you even invite him for it in the first place.

“There we are,” the butler opened the door to the Green Room and Leo tried his best to keep a straight face.

Yes, the state granted him a certain level of living and a substantial apartment, but this… This was nothing like he had seen before.

“Dinner will be served at six in the main dining room on the ground floor,” Grigorievich explained. “It’s black tie,” he added, frowning, as if by some otherworldly premonition he had already suspected the captain’s wardrobe to be lacking in style. “Should you need anything, please ring for the downstairs quarters.”

Leo looked towards the bell when the butler pointed to it and he almost laughed. This was everything the state taught him to be against and yet there he was, about to join an upper-class event in a classless society.

“Thank you,” he nodded at all three servants and audibly exhaled when they closed the door behind them.

Leo glared at his luggage as if it had offended him and for the first time in his life he wondered what the hell should one even wear to a black tie fucking dinner.

By some mystical mercy, Leo sat next to you at the table. He wondered if it had been your influence on the staff. Either way, he had a hard time focusing on his plate because of it. He barely spoke three words to you the entire evening as he tried to figure out how to ask you about your birthday in the most discreet way possible. Finally, he just gave up:

“Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”

He asked it softly enough to not draw too much attention to your conversation, but on the inside he was squirming. 

“Would you have come if I did?”

You were smiling at him and he didn’t know what to do with that, exactly.

“I would have brought a gift.”

Your smile grew wider. Leo wished his military training would have prepared him for this. Enemies of the state, combat, interrogations—that he could handle. But you… He had no clue what to do with you.

Not to mention, all those people surrounding you, out of which at least half were the most prominent figures in Russia. Rodion Morozov was sitting on your father’s right, currently laughing at the joke Irina Yanova just told him. Right next to Irina sat Ruslan Gleb, the first tenor of the Bolshoi Opera.

“Leo…”

Your voice brought Leo back to planet Earth. Fuck. He loved the sound of his name in your mouth.

“You’re the only person here for me and not for my father.”

It took a lot of willpower from him not to react the way he wanted to. If he twisted your meaning just so, it could suggest he was the gift. Leo wasn’t opposed to the idea in the slightest.

“Look.” You leaned closer to him. “There’s Irina Yanovna. A writer and a union leader for female domestic workers.”

Leo knew all that of course, but in all honesty he would listen to anything you were willing to tell him.

“In about six minutes, she’s going to ask me why am I not declaring myself a feminist yet,” you continued. 

The corners of Leo’s mouth turned up. He couldn’t help it. You were sharing gossip with him. 

“There’s Boris Nestorovich.” You tilted your head a little to cover up for Leo if he wanted to take a peek. “My father’s deputy. He pretends not to agree with Irina on anything just to rile her up. I think he secretly admires her.”

Leo took a bite of his food to at least pretend he wasn’t hanging on your every word. But he was. Your voice was soothing and you were leaning towards him as closely as when you were dancing. But suddenly, the bubble around you two burst as Rodion’s booming voice exclaimed your name from the other end of the table.

At once you sat up straight and turned towards your uncle, your face the picture of innocence. 

“I… I’m sorry. What was your question, Uncle?”

Pleased with himself like an old tomcat that got into the pantry, Leo took a sip of wine.

“Who are you riding with in the morning?” Rodion repeated his question and everyone turned towards you two.

“Well. I…” 

Leo moved his right hand closer to your left. They were almost touching, but not yet. He could feel the heat radiating from you, though, and it was even more intoxicating than the wine.

“With our newest guest, I suppose.” You turned towards Leo. “You don’t know the route… Isn’t that right?”

“No. I don’t,” Leo said slowly.

But then again, he would have agreed with you even if you said the sky was green.

“Then it’s settled.” You smiled at your uncle. 

Rodion’s playful glance towards Leo escaped no one.

“But can you ride, Captain?” Irina asked bluntly. “I thought you were MGB.”

“Irina,” your father pleaded.

“Former military,” Leo replied. “And yes, I can. But I’m sure she’ll be running circles around me anyway.”

He was looking straight at you now, as was everyone else.

“I don’t think that’s true,” you whispered.

“Hm.” Leo smirked and had nothing to add, really, though it seemed Irina still had plenty.

“Well, Boris is also a good rider if you need a—”

But then a slight bang interrupted her and all of a sudden she pursed her lips tightly. If Leo hadn’t known any better, he would have said Rodion just stepped on her foot.

Snowfall subsided in the morning and the party got up early for the ride. There were six of you all together, but for Leo it might just as well have been two. You had chosen him to be your riding partner and that was all that mattered.

“Kotya will be coming along,” you announced to Leo when you met at the stables.

He did his best to keep his face neutral at the news. 

Who the hell was Kotya? 

“And he’s your…?”

Leo’s question was interrupted when the large German Shepherd nearly knocked him off his feet with the excited greeting.

“Leo, meet Kotya. Kotya, this is Leo.” 

You grinned while Leo did his best to stop the furry beast from licking his face.

“Not the brightest of my father’s bunch, but he's my favourite. And he knows not to bother the horses,” you explained as you led your horse out of the stables. “Are you coming?”

Leo nodded and followed your lead. The horse he got was tall, in the dark shade of chestnut that you had previously explained the proper name of and Leo managed to entirely forget. He wasn’t really a horse person, nor was he very fond of dogs.

But you were. And Leo was falling for you harder and faster than ever before, so he said nothing. 

“All right.” You turned towards him when you mounted your horse. “Ready?”

Leo nodded and hoped that as soon as he would be on the horse, everything would come back to him. His military training on horseback was very brief as by then they had already discovered his talent for long-range shooting and boxing.

But there was no time to deliberate on it now. You went straight ahead and Leo did his absolute human best to keep up.

Kotya stayed by your side the entire time, happy with the exercise and your close attention. Leo found the gallop very easy; it was the manoeuvring of the horse to actually do your bidding that he couldn’t really get. 

As soon as the three of you were on the open road and safe from the judgement of others, you pulled your horse’s reins and slowed down to a trot. Leo managed to catch up with you then, admittedly much more out of breath than you.

“I’m sorry for the gallop,” you said. “But I really wanted to get away from…”

Leo frowned at your hesitation. He was doing his best to learn how to read you, but every glimpse into your nature that you offered had been followed by something confusing.

“I wanted to say ‘gossip’, but that’s not fair,” you explained. “I’m a gossip, too.”

A corner of his mouth lifted at the admittance.

“What?” You grinned at him. “You don’t agree?”

“I do,” Leo replied, choosing his next words carefully. “But I don’t care.”

“No?” You frowned, obviously still having some difficulty in reading him as well.

“No.”

His horse finally caught up with yours and you were now riding side by side.

“Just as long as you share with me,” Leo explained finally and it made your smile even wider.

He cleared his throat at the reaction. Had he said the wrong thing again? Or was it the right thing? He couldn’t tell with you, not really.

“Something funny?” he asked. 

The uncertainty and the various steps he needed to take to get closer to you reminded Leo very much of your first dance. Only now, you were leading, there was no music, and for some reason, there was a horse in the middle of the dance floor.

“No,” you finally spoke, rescuing Leo from his own head. “I’m very happy you’re here, you know?”

No, he didn’t. But now it was all he would think about.

As much as he enjoyed your company, Leo was exhausted after your ride and he barely kept it together at dinner. It didn’t help that this time he sat next to your father.

Leo managed to catch a glimpse or two from you and so he knew you were watching. He gave a quiet, but efficient performance and tried to pay attention to your father’s stories.

After dinner, everyone gathered in the drawing room where Rodion exhausted the piano and Irina got drunk entirely too quickly. All of that was a background for Leo, though, because in the commotion he managed to overhear your father saying:

“A quiet one he is, your captain.”

You rose to your tiptoes then and whispered something into your father’s ear. He smiled at you fondly, but then everyone’s attention shifted to Rodion, who at this point had sufficiently murdered the song he was playing by adding in his own vocals. Your father jumped to the rescue.

Leo couldn’t care less. You used that commotion to move closer to him and once again, he had your undivided attention. He had no idea if he was supposed to have overheard your father just then, but it didn’t matter. He was your captain now and that was his only point of focus.

That and the way your eyes sparkled when you started to tell him an anecdote about your school days.

Leo expected he would fall asleep that night as soon as his head hit the pillow, but it wasn’t the case at all. The exercise and the ungodly amounts of alcohol your father had poured into him at dinner couldn’t dull the way his heart beat faster every time he thought of you. It was probably why he didn’t hear that the door to his room opened and closed—he had no reason to lock it after all.

Right now he was just about ready to get on his knees and thank his lucky stars that he hadn’t locked it, because there you were.

Standing in his room, in your nightgown.

Your hair was undone and you were barefoot. Leo had to do a double take. He was not entirely sure it wasn’t his imagination still.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, completely misinterpreting his silence.

“No.” He got out of bed and didn’t miss how your eyes darted to his chest.

The covers provided for the guests weighed pretty much a tonne and wearing more than pants to sleep would have been unbearable. Or maybe he just ran hot, who knows… 

He kept justifying himself in his head and you… You weren’t speaking—just looking at every scar and scratch and strange tattoo he had on his body and Leo, well… He knew how he looked. But it still did not make him sure enough to think he would win you over with his looks alone.

But then you took a step closer and kissed him and his head finally shut up. That… that he could work with.

Leo pulled you into a tight embrace before deepening the kiss. Even when there was no more space between you, he still wanted you closer.

He broke the kiss first and he hated himself for it, but he couldn’t stop thinking about you being barefoot. He took your hands in his. Yours were ice-cold.

“You’ll freeze,” he murmured into your mouth and physically felt you smile. He still refused to open his eyes.

He pressed his forehead to yours and hummed when he felt your hand stroking his back.

“I’m not made of glass, you know,” you whispered then and pecked his lips hastily before backing away and disappearing into the dark corridor once more. 

You didn’t close the door behind you this time and had it not been for that, Leo would be fully convinced it was a ghostly visit after all.

Coming back to Moscow was beginning to look unbearable, but the stolen glances over breakfast and the featherlight hand touches over the table were even more so.

Leo wanted to touch you properly, hold your hand, and it was taking everything from him to pretend like he didn’t. 

But finally it was time for him to go and he wondered how he could persuade you to see him again. The goodbyes were friendly enough and nobody really paid any attention to him except you—which was honestly fine with him. 

“Goodbye, Captain.” This time, his title sounded almost playful when you said it. “And thank you for my gift.”

You held his hand a little longer than necessary and the only response Leo could muster was an appreciative hum.

“What gift?” your father wanted to know and Leo didn’t miss how flustered you got. 

“Last… yesterday.” You smiled innocently. “It was…”

“Ballet tickets. With your approval, of course,” Leo interrupted quickly and already regretted it as soon as he said it.

“Ah, but that is wonderful!” your father agreed. “You love ballet, don’t you?”

“I really do.”

Leo realised you weren’t being sarcastic; his wild shot in the dark was actually successful.

“Well. Goodbye for now, Demidov. Till we meet again, yes?” Your father shook Leo’s hand and so did your uncle, which was an ultimate sign of approval in itself.

Leo got in the car and all the way to Moscow he mulled over three things. Firstly, you kissed him. That was a fact, you did.

And perhaps you would even agree to do it again. And again. To be frank, Leo wouldn’t mind ever having to stop kissing you.

Second, he was going to reapply for that promotion he had previously disregarded. Convincing his supervisor was going to be tough, but he had to. For you. He couldn’t stay a captain if he was seriously thinking of pursuing you. And he knew he was.

Third… Well. How in the merciful fuck was he going to get those ballet tickets now? 

[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 

[falcqns]

You’re Worth It

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x College Student!Reader

Summary: You visit Bucky’s apartment for the first time, and assure him that he's worth so much more than he thinks. 

Warnings: SMUT! age gap but its legal, very insecure Bucky, oral (f receiving).

A/N: Hope you enjoy!

You stood outside Bucky’s apartment door, watching your boyfriend dig his keys out of his skinny jeans, his other hand on a bag of groceries that contained your soon-to-be dinner. He pulled them out and located the door key, before turning to you. “Are you sure you want to stay here tonight, doll? I’m more than okay staying at your apartment.” He said, his eyes not leaving the ground in front of him.

You smiled, and placed your backpack on the ground beside you before turning and grabbing his stubbly face in your hands. “Baby. I want to stay here with you. I don’t care what it looks like. Whether it’s dirty or clean, the cutest apartment in the world, or the ugliest. It’s yours, and I want to see it.” You said, and he smiled before nodding. “Okay.” He said. He put the key in the door, and unlocked it. You followed him into the small apartment, and was immediately surrounded by the smell that was undeniably Bucky. 

You loved the way he smelled, you always had. He smelled like a field of lavender flowers on a beach, with a hint of salt water. He dropped his keys on the table, and turned around to face you. You placed your backpack on the floor again, this time by the table and looked around. There wasn't much, but he had a small chair and a side table, and a small tv stand where his tv sat. There was a chair in the corner by the kitchen island, and that was it. Your eyes ran over the pile of blankets on the floor, and you could feel your heart break.

He slept on the floor. 

He chuckled as you looked around. “Sad, huh?” He said, walking into the kitchen with the food in hand. “No.” You said, and followed him to the kitchen. “Like I said outside. It's you. You are building a life after a lot of suffering. Nothing about this is sad.” He shook his head as he took out the carrots and potatoes from the bag. 

“I couldn't even afford a full couch.” He said. You dropped your phone on the counter gently, and wrapped your arms around his waist. You rested your head in between his shoulder blades, and inhaled his smell. 

“Baby, it’s okay. You were gone for 5 years. So was half the world. Before that, you were living in Wakanda, where you didn't have to deal with the stresses of regular life. And, before that, you were trapped within someone who wasn't you. Don’t blame yourself for any of this. I love you for who you are.” You said, and Bucky turned around, his arms circling your waist. 

“How did I get so lucky?” he mumbled into your hair. You giggled, and lifted your head. “By saving my life,” You said, before pressing a kiss to his lips. He kissed back immediately, and pulled you closer. 

You pulled away when the need for oxygen became dire, and you smiled at them again. “All I did was pull you out of the way of a car that was out of control, doll.” He said, and ran his hand down your arm as you pulled out of the hug. “I would’ve gotten hit if you didn't. I’m not a super soldier like you are, its highly unlikely I would have survived if it weren't for my hero,” You mentioned, as you walked over to your backpack and pulling out your laptop.

Bucky chuckled, and watched as you sat down in the chair across from the tv. You tucked your feet under yourself, and sat your laptop on the arm before powering it on.

Bucky began to move about the kitchen and make the two of you dinner. No matter what you said, he couldn't stop feeling guilty about the state of his apartment. He could have at least bought a blow up mattress for you to sleep on, so you wouldn't be stuck sleeping on the hard wood floor with him. Better yet, he could have bought a bed. He had a bedroom, but he didn't feel comfortable in there. He glanced over at you while he washed the carrots in the sink and saw how you stretched your back before returning to your homework.

It wasn't an unusual occurrence for him to hang out with you while you do homework. He actually enjoyed watching you do school work. he could barely remember school, and he never got to go to college. Between working and taking care of Steve, he both didn't have time and couldn't afford it. Then the war started, and he thought about going after, but his capture by HYDRA kinda ruined that one. During his time in Wakanda, he had thought about going to college, but at that point he was still a wanted criminal and that was out of the question. He had been thinking about it more recently, and had decided to wait until he was finished making his amends to enrol somewhere. 

Mainly, he was just happy that you were getting an education. He planned on staying with you forever, marrying you, having kids with you, and growing old(er) with you, and he knew your future children would benefit from at least one of their parents having up-to-date school education. And, by up to date school education, he meant a curriculum that was developed this century.

He stirred the potatoes in the pot and smiled as he heard your fingers tapping on the keyboard. God, he loved you. You loved him for who he was, you didn't judge him, and most importantly, you didn't blame him for anything that happened. He hadn't been expecting to be so open with you about his past when he asked you out on a date, but you knew who he was instantly, and thanked him for saving your life. He may have physically saved your life that day, but he felt that you saved his life in every other way by just being yourself. 

He continued to listen to you tapping on the keyboard, the clicking of your knuckles as you cracked them, and the slow but rhythmic breathing as you focused on your work. 

Dinner was finished a few minutes later, and you closed your laptop just as Bucky was plating the veggies. You placed your laptop back in the bag, and joined Bucky on the ground to eat. 

“Did you finish your homework?” He asked, and you nodded. You swallowed before speaking. “Yeah. I can't submit it yet, but it’s finished and ready to go,” You said. 

The two of you continued making small talk throughout the night, and Bucky tried to find a way to convince you that the two of you should sleep at your apartment instead, but he knew that it wouldn't work. He tried to bite back the tears while you were in the showers and he laid out the blankets and pillows on the floor for the night. They almost fell again when he walked out of the bathroom from having his shower and saw you snuggled up on the ground, scrolling on TikTok. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he got a cup of water for himself and for you. He thought he had a handle on his emotions by the time he had settled next to you, but the dam broke when he laid down and your had found its way to your chest as it usually did. 

Your head shot up when you heard his shaky breathing and his sniffling, and you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck. “What’s wrong, Buck?” you whispered, and his arms wrapped themselves around your waist before he answered. 

“You deserve to be sleeping on a bed.” he whispered, and you shook your head. 

“No. Don’t do that to yourself. I know how weird it is for you to sleep in a bed, and that's okay. I’ve been camping before, and I’m perfectly fine with sleeping on the ground. I’m fine, baby.” You whispered, but Bucky still shook his head. 

“I should be able to afford a bed,” He said, and you sat up. “Stop. Don’t think that. You’re doing the best you can with what you have. You can barely afford the bills you have already because of what the government is paying you, which is way less than you should be. You’re doing great with what you have.” You reminded him, and he nodded.

“I know. But, I probably should have spent the little money I did have on a bed rather than a TV, but if I don't have the TV on, my mind runs to places I don't want it to. I know that’s not healthy, but neither is reliving everything I did for those years. I wasn't really thinking about having anyone to share my nights with during that time, so a bed didn't seem important. But, I should have bought a mattress when we started dating. Everything is just way too expensive compared to when I was growing up.” He said, a slight chuckle in his voice. You smiled, and pushed him back by the chest. 

He smiled suggestively when you straddled his waist, his hands coming to rest on your hips. “Lets not talk about it anymore, okay? Maybe me riding you will help you forget it.” You said, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips that were red and slightly swollen from his tears. He didn't say anything in return, but kissed you back while running your hands up your back and under your sleep shirt. He moaned when he felt that you weren't wearing a bra. 

“Naughty girl, not wearing a bra,” He whispered, as you kissed down his neck. He grabbed the hem of the shirt and pulled it up, leaving you in only your underwear. You moaned at his husky voice and ground your hips down on him. He moaned, and grasped your hips in his hands. 

He let you grind on him a little more, thoroughly enjoying it, before flipping you over. He trailed his hands down to your underwear, hooking his thumbs into the straps, before pulling them down your legs. 

He moaned when you were completely exposed to him. You looked at him with lust filled eyes, as he spread your legs, and settled himself on his stomach in between them.

He lifted your legs over his shoulders, and pressed kisses up your slit, making eye contact with you. “Fuckin’ beautiful.” he said, before diving into you. 

He swiped his tongue over your clit a few times, before attaching his mouth to it and sucking. You jolted slightly when you felt the cold metal of his pointer finger slowly push inside of you. He pushed it to the hilt, and then arched up to rub up against your g spot. 

You cried out suddenly and tangled your hands in his hair when his finger started vibrating right up against your g spot, causing you to fall over the edge into orgasm almost instantly. 

Bucky pulled off of you with a pop, and grinned, still moving his finger in and out while you rode out your orgasm. Once your breathing slowed, he pulled his finger out, and put it into his mouth, sucking your juices off of it. He laid on his back, and guided you with his hands until you were on top again. 

You began to shimmy down his body, but Bucky shook his head, and pulled you back up. “No. If you do that, I won't last, and I want to cum in your pussy not your mouth,” He said, and you bit your lip, and nodded.

His hands gripped your hips while you reached down for his now leaking cock, and gave it a few firm strokes, before lining it up at your entrance. You leaned forward and gripped your hands on his shoulder, before sliding down on him slowly.

“Fuck, doll. Always feels so damn good,” Bucky moaned, his hands tightening on your hips. You threw your head back and moaned as you began to move your hips, with Bucky’s help.

“Love seein’ you like this, babydoll.” Bucky rasped out, hit hips thrusting up to meet your movements. “Love how needy you get when you’re on top.” His words made you clench around him, and Bucky grasped your hips tighter to pull you down on his cock harder and faster each time. 

You could feel the pressure building in your abdomen, and you knew Bucky was close as well based on the movements of his hips. You ground your hips into his before continuing to bounce on him.

“F-fuck,” Bucky grunted as he was used over the edge, and released inside of you. You threw your head back as you felt Bucky’s cum smash against your walls, which sent you over the edge, and you shook as you came. 

A few minutes later, Bucky has cleaned both you and him up, and was coming back from tossing the wash cloth in the laundry hamper when he saw you sound asleep on the ground where he left you. He smiled slightly and carried you into the bedroom, along with the blankets and pillows. 

He laid you down and straightened out the blankets, and put your pillow under your head, before laying down next to you, and pulling you into his arms. He drifted off to sleep seconds later with the plan on looking for a second hand bed in the morning. You deserved to sleep on a bed, and so did he, he realized. 

At least the plush carpeting is softer than the hard wood. 

[hailhydra920]

The Edge of Tomorrow (4)

Pairing: Bucky x reader Modern AU

Summary: When Bucky Barnes’ arm gets blow off in Afghanistan, his mental state is shaky. Steve tells him that he needs someone to be with him to make sure he’s okay. You just happen to be the girl that answered the ad in the newspaper.

Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Angst. Fluff. Rude Ex

Word Count: 1.4k

           Bucky looked at himself in the mirror and frowned. Why did he have to look like such a freak? You had put his hair in a bun, and that was about the only thing about himself that he liked. He had changed into a green Henley and some faded blue jeans. He hadn’t shaved because you had told him this morning you liked his scruff. You guys were just going to the store, your friend had helped bring over the rest of your stuff, so he didn’t need to leave the apartment. Now he needed to, but there was nothing to worry about. Well…except for the stares, and the scoffs, and the degrading comments. He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. He really didn’t want to do this.

           “Bucky? Are you okay?” You asked knocking lightly on the bathroom door. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. It’s perfectly fine.”

           He had to do this. It was about time he got out of the house. It would do him some good. Besides, you would be there with him. Things weren’t as horrible when you had someone else with you. He tried to smile into the mirror, but he looked ridiculous. Everything is going to be fine. Taking one last deep breath, he opened the bathroom door.

           “I’m good, let’s go.” Bucky said as he grabbed his keys.

           “Do you want to drive? Or can I?” You said as you made your way to the parking lot and over to his expensive looking black car.

           He tossed the keys to you. “You can.”

           You smiled and climbed into the driver’s side. He rested his hand in his lap and spared a glance at you. You were beautiful, that much was clear. Then a sick feeling twisted in his gut. You could be doing so much better than caring for someone like him. He was only holding you back from living out your life successfully. He frowned as you guys pulled into the Safeway parking lot. It’s going to be okay. Just breathe.

           “Bucky, are you sure you don’t want to stay in the car?”

           Maybe he should just stay in the car. After all you probably didn’t want to be seen with the likes of him. “I’ll just stay here.”

           He saw your face fall a bit. “O-okay. I’ll be back soon.”

           As you were exiting the car, he freaked out and grabbed your wrist. He couldn’t be alone. You winced and took in a sharp breath. He quickly released your wrist when he realized it was the one he had hurt last night. He looked at you with wide blue eyes before looking down in shame as he cursed himself for touching you.

           “Hey. It’s alright.” You said sitting back in the car. “It’s just a bit tender. Did you change your mind about staying in the car?”

           He nodded sheepishly. “I just…I don’t want to be alone.”

           You smiled and touched his knee affectionately. “Okay. Come on. In the store, if you start feeling anxious, just hold my hand.”

           He looked at you as if you had grown an extra head. “Y-you’d be fine with me holding your hand? Isn’t that, um, a bit intimate?”

           “You don’t have to do it if it makes you uncomfortable. It was just a suggestion. Just thought it might help ground you.” You said with a shrug. “Anyway, let’s go.”

           Bucky got out of the car with you this time and followed you like a little duckling. You grabbed a cart once inside and went to the cereal aisle.

           “So…anything we need?”

           Bucky shook his head. “Food is food. Get whatever you want.”

           “Okay. What do you want?”

           He stood there for a minute. No one had asked his that question in a long time. He could really care less what he ate, but the fact that you asked him had a nice warmth tingling through his chest.

           “I don’t really know…plums? I think they taste good.”

           You looked at him fondly. “That’s a nice choice. I like plums. Anything else?’

           He shook his head.

           “Well, if you see something you want, don’t hesitate to put it in the cart. Even if you are one of those people who likes artichoke hearts.”

           “Don’t worry. I’ve never even heard of artichoke hearts, but they don’t sound appetizing anyway.”

           “Alrighty then. Let’s get some food!”

~~~~~

           Things were going well, and Bucky felt slightly at ease with you around. The store wasn’t very full, so he didn’t have to encounter many people. A man brushed up against him, and he tensed. The man glared at Bucky and the look slowly turned to disgust, and Bucky felt his heart sink. The man probably thought he was scary. A danger to society. He shouldn’t have come to the store. He knew this would happen. It always happened. He didn’t fit it.

           A slightly cold sensation filled the palm of his hand. He quickly looked down and noticed your hands were now linked together. You gently squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. He felt the dark clouds inside him start to fade slightly.

           “You okay?” You asked in a hushed tone.

           He squeezed your hand again. “Y-yeah. I’m fine.”

           “Well, let’s go check out.”

           There was only one open check out aisle open and you pushed the cart toward it. Bucky helped you unload things onto the checkout belt, a soft smile on his lips.

           “Wow, Y/n, didn’t know you started dating ugly one-armed freaks.”

           You froze as the voice sounded, and Bucky looked up at the cashier that had said the comment. He was tall and muscular, and his dirty blond hair was swept to one side. Bucky didn’t have to look at his name tag to know this was your ex-boyfriend, Bradley. You had told him all about him this morning as you unpacked some boxes.

           “That was rude and uncalled for.” You hissed as you glared at Bradley. “Do you always have to be such a jerk?”

           He chuckled. “Still fiery I see. Though your taste has definitely downgraded.”

           Bucky looked down at the shiny floor as his insecurities spiked. Bradley’s right. He’s an ugly one-armed freak.

           “Can you just shut up and scan? Bucky is extremely handsome and 1000 times better than you. Not to mention he served his country, so you shouldn’t disrespect him like that!” You growled.

           “It’s sad that only the freaks will date you. Gosh, you’re desperate, but someone with your looks…I can see why.”

           Bucky felt anger suddenly bubble in his chest and the let out a low growl. “Stop talking to her like that.”

           Bradley’s eyebrows raised. “Wow, he can speak. Was starting to think you had lost your voice too.”

           “You can say things about me, but don’t you dare say another degrading word about her. Is that understood?” Bucky was seething, his brows were furrowed, and his fist was clenched.

           Bradley scoffed and rolled his eyes. Bucky lunged toward Bradley and yanked him by the collar of his shirt. Bucky’s face was mere centimeters away from Bradley’s.

           “I said is that understood?” Bucky growled.

           Bradley gulped and nodded his head. “Y-yes.”

           “Now say “I’m sorry, y/n, I’m a huge jerk that puts other people down to hide how ugly I am on the inside.”

           “B-but—”

           “Now.”

           “I-I’m sorry, y/n, I’m a huge jerk that puts other people down to h-hide how ugly I am o-on the i-inside!”

           Satisfied, Bucky released him, and Bradley frantically scanned the rest of your items without another word. Bucky made sure to burn a hole in Bradley’s head with his intense stare. Bucky paid, and you both headed out of the store. As you were putting bags in the trunk, you turned toward Bucky.

           “Thanks, for that, in there.”

           Bucky shrugged. “It was nothing. It’s one thing to say those things to people like me, it’s another to say it to a wonderful gal like you. I was just doin’ what was right.”

           You pulled him into a hug and his arm wrapped around you tightly. “Bucky, no. You didn’t deserve to hear any of those awful things he said about you. You’re a great guy. I just wish you could see that.”

           Red crawled up his cheeks at your words, and he let out a breath. “Thanks, doll. It means a lot.”

           You hugged for a bit longer before putting the rest of the groceries in the car. After you got home and put away the groceries, you grabbed two spoons and held up a carton of ice cream.

           “What do you say we share a carton of ice cream and forget about Bradley?”

           A warmth tingled in his chest again as he looked at you. He couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. “I think that’s a great idea.”

EoT Tags: @peaches1958​

[soyouthinkucanwrite]

The money thing (part 1/2) - Daniel Ricciardo

It's always the little things, isn't it? The smallest stupidest things make almost no difference and then make all the difference in the world. They make everything special, but they also have the power to tear everything appart.

You and Daniel fight about money for the thousand time and he's had enough of it.

Warnings: super angst, but with a happy ending :)

Guys, this turned out WAY BIGGER than I expected, so I'm just gonna do a part 2, okay? Okay, thanks for understanding!

Song that inspired me: A list by HVOB

You and Daniel had been dating for a couple months now, having met through a common friend and hitting off almost instantly. You lived in Amsterdam and he, well he lived all over the world really, but his "time off" (meaning not racing) was spent between Monaco and London (for work), and Amsterdam now too, of course.

The changes were small and subtle at the beginning, like your weekends being spent traveling to meet him wherever in the world he was and consequently spending almost all your savings on plane tickets. You never complained to him (you planned on spending the money traveling anyway, so you didn't see the point), but didn't accept when he offered to buy your tickets, either. There's been some awkwardness around the subject but it usually died on its own.

*beginning of flashback*

"You’d have gotten here in time if you'd gotten the early flight like I told you" you remembered him saying that time you got in the paddock after the qualifying session had begun and couldn’t kiss him good luck.

"Baby, I told you. It was crazy expensive! Absurd even!"

"(y/n) for god's sake! What are we saving money for? I told you, you have my credit card number, I've offered to get you one, this is ridiculous, I can't believe I literally earn millions and my girlfriend wasn't there with me because the ticket was too expensive! I'll fucking fly you private if I have to!" he was almost yelling in his driver's room. You could only stare from the corner.

He took a deep breath running his hands through his hair. "Sorry. It's just... it was crap out there. I needed you" you grimaced at his words.

"Sorry. I really am..." you tried to approach him. "I'm here now?" you touched his arm. "It can't have been that bad, you're still on the top 10 and we both know what you can do from the 8th car..." you smiled at him.

*end of flashback*

He started to spend much more of his time off with you at your place, so you decided to get a place by yourself (having a roommate was great for company and splitting the rent, but having a roommate there while you guys just wanted some much-needed privacy was not working). Then there were more traveling to meet him, furniture for the new place, clothing for all the events (GPs or not), uber rides here and there... all of that without mentioning that you weren't being able to get the freelance jobs you used to get to make some extra money, so yeah, to say things were tight was an understatement. You tried to do all your shopping alone, so he wouldn't offer and you wouldn't refuse or be awkward about it, but Daniel seem to be glued to you whenever you were in the same city (not that you’re complaining).

He started to spend much more of his time off with you at your place, so you decided to get a place by yourself (having a roommate was great for company and splitting the rent, but having a roommate there while you guys just wanted some much-needed privacy was not working). Then there were more traveling to meet him, furniture for the new place, clothing for all the events (GPs or not), uber rides here and there... all of that without mentioning that you weren't being able to get the freelance jobs you used to get to make some extra money, so yeah, to say things were tight was an understatement. You tried to do all your shopping alone, so he wouldn't offer and you wouldn't refuse or be awkward about it, but Daniel seem to be glued to you whenever you were in the same city (not that you’re complaining).

The thing is, you always had trouble dealing with money. Sure, you liked to pay for your own stuff so as to not owe anything to anyone (especially boys), but it was so much deeper than that. Ever since a kid, you hated asking for money from your parents, and sometimes even the thought of buying stuff that was a bit more expensive made you sick. You couldn't explain why, you just felt guilty having so much and knowing that most people have never even seen that amount. It's not that you didn't want to spend it and save for the sake of it, you just didn't handle the idea of money very well. Needless to say, dating a millionnaire was bound to cause trouble in the relationship for you.

You were currently at his place in Monaco. It was the summer break and you had decided to spend some days just chilling at home, just the two of you - which you were glad since going out means hair, makeup, clothes, accessories, shoes... and, let's be honest, the kind of places he usually took you is not the kind of places you just throw something together last minute (the Instagram models and other driver's girlfriends looking you up and down were enough to make you think about spending money you did not have to hire a stylist or something like that). The whole situation was really stressing you out and you knew you would have to be honest with him eventually, instead of only dodging the subject and refusing most of his offers to pay. You tried to. You kind of tried. You suggested staying at home, in bed, most of the time, and he gladly agreed, but that strategy wasn't gonna work forever. You had to be honest with him. But at the same time, you knew what he was going to say and do, and the thought of him spending money on you, even if just by handling the restaurant bill, wasn't something you were much more comfortable with. Besides, it was only a matter of time before the "gold-digger" term starts to fly around in the small world that was the F1's.

You were laying on his couch, the Olympics playing on the TV but you were too busy overthinking the money thing to pay attention. Daniel was laying with his head on your lap, absently caressing your thigh and watching the TV. His phone went off and he moved to pick it up.

"Hello?" you watched as he answered the phone. "Hey mate, how's it going? Uh nothing, we're just chilling at home. Getting some rest... Yeah, I'm getting rested, you dirty-minded son of a bitch" you rolled your eyes while he laughed out loud on the line with someone. "Yeah, I know... the 19th is it? No, it's fine. Yeah, yeah. I'll be there. Alright, mate. Thanks for calling. Have a good one! Bye!" he hanged up and leaned in to peck you on the lips.

"Good news?" you asked him.

"Not really. Just wanted to kiss you" he shrugged, smiling. You smiled back and hugged him, pulling him in for another kiss. He was always so caring with you, always finding an excuse to kiss or touch you. You knew some people didn't like it, but you loved it. Physical touch was definitely one of your love languages.

"What's happening on the 19th then?" you asked him once you guys set apart from the kiss.

"Gotta be in London. Gonna run some testings and other boring race stuff..."

"Hum..." you hummed in understanding.

"You know what would make it less boring though?" he asked and you just looked at him, you already knew what he was going to ask you and it wasn't that you didn't want to spend every minute of the day with him, but you simply couldn't afford any more traveling, especially not in such short notice. "If you came with me. Huh? What do you say? A week in the Queen's land? Then we can fly together to Spa and after the race, I can go with you to Amsterdam. The next one it's the Dutch GP anyway, I'll just get there sooner" he laughed. It was crushing you, the man of your dreams was literally beaming at making plans with you, talking about spending the next few weeks glued together and you couldn't say yes.

"Dan, I have to work" you smiled sadly.

"Can't you work from distance? Or, I don't know, I mean... I know it's tiring, but you could come to London and fly home a bit early, then just meet me in Belgium?" great, his solution includes even more flying. And the thing is, you really didn't mind the flying. You always slept during the whole thing anyway, so you never got tired and the jetlag was minimal. You could work from distance, sure. Your boss wouldn't mind, as long as you got there eventually to check in on everything. But the whole logistics were just too expensive. There was no way you could afford it.

"I... sorry, I don't think I can" you said sadly and watched as his face dropped.

"That's fine, baby. I get it. I'm asking too much, all this traveling... don't worry about it" he tried to mask his emotions but you knew better. He knew you could in fact work from distance, so he was probably thinking the reason you couldn't do it was because you didn't want to.

He got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. Meanwhile, you couldn't help but bury your face in your palms. This was so frustrating!

"You wanna go for a run or something? Maybe get something to eat?" he called from the kitchen, already moving on from the subject. You knew this whole thing was only gonna keep build up till he got tired of your excuses or you blowing up, probably the former, but you just keep going.

"Yeah, sure" you answered, getting up from the couch.

You and Daniel were both very active so going for a run, hiking, riding bikes, or whatever in the middle of the day was really routine for you. The Monaco summer weather was as beautiful as always and the sun was shining bright. You enjoyed the rest of your afternoon racing each other, kissing in the harbor, and just taking in the views, spending quality time together. Money wasn't even a thing in your bubble for a while.

"I'm getting hungry" he said on the way back home.

"Me too, and I'm super hot. I could go for a juice or something right now" you were all sweaty from the running, but you didn't care, he was too.

"You're always hot baby, I don't think juice gonna help with that" he grinned at you and you just rolled your eyes at him.

You passed by one of his favorite spots for food, nearby his place and he suggested getting some take-out, to which you agreed.

"Green juice, and a chicken wrap?" you tried to decide while the both of you waited in line.

"I'll never understand how you drink that"

"I've seen you drink that too, it's actually very refreshing"

"Because I'm forced to, I'm a high-performance athlete baby. But I'm on a break, so I'll have a coke, thank you very much" you laughed at him. He was holding your hand and tried to kiss you, wrapping his arm around you, you didn't dodge his kiss, you would never, but still laughed at the fact he wanted to kiss the sweaty mess you were right now.

"I'm gross, only you" you laughed.

"That's my baby, with no makeup she a ten" he rapped shrugging and grinning.

"Alright Lil Wayne, I know that one, don't even finish the verse" you laughed at him, making him laugh out loud, getting everyone's in the restaurant's attention.

"It's true, though"

"Sure..." You just shook your head smiling. Then you heard someone call his name.

"Hey! Daniel!" you both turned around to see Charles and Charlotte sitting in a corner, him waving at you two. You had met Charles a couple of times before but never spoke too much to him. They seemed to be leaving anyway, so they walked towards you guys, instead of towards the door.

"Hey mate, how's it going?" Daniel greeted him with a handshake. "Hey, Charlotte! You know (y/n) yet?"

"Hi! I don't think so, hi! How are you?" she greeted you smiling.

"Hi! Nice to meet you. Hi, Charles!" you said.

"Hey, (y/n). You're keeping him in line during the break? Char won't let me cheat my diet either" he laughed.

"Oh, that ship has sailed long ago! Daniel will just roll into the paddock if it's up to him" you laughed back.

"Hey! I think I've earned the right to some extra calories, we've been working out extra hard lately" Daniel said waving his eyebrows suggestively, making Charlotte giggle, Charles rolls his eyes and you go even redder than you were from the actual workout, while he just laughed out loud.

"I don't even want to know" Charles said. "Always great running into you mate" he was getting ready to say goodbye.

"Are we seeing you guys tomorrow?" Charlotte asked you.

"Tomorrow?" you asked her.

"Stefano's birthday" she said like it was obvious. Stefano Domenicali was the President and CEO of Formula 1, but you didn't know that yet - still, her tone made it seems like it was someone Daniel knew, so you just looked at him. He just rubbed his neck, looking a little embarrassed. "Oh, wait. Please tell me I didn't just said something I shouldn't" she looked at Charles.

"No, no. He invited me. Us, actually" Daniel reassured her. "I don't think we're going though, forgot to mention to you" he said looking at you.

"Uh mate, I wouldn't skip that if I were you. He didn't even invite all the drivers I heard" Charles said. "Maybe just stop by to say hello?"

"Stop by... a yacht... at the sea?" Charlotte said grinning at him. Daniel looked at you.

"You feel like going? It should be fun" he asked you.

"Sounds fancy... I mean, I don't mind if you go" you said.

"Common... I’m not going alone" he nudged you.

"I don't even have anything to wear, Dan" you told him.

"Oh! We can go shopping together!" Charlotte said and you had almost forgotten they were still there.

"Perfect!" Daniel answered for you. You could only imagine the types of stores she shopped.

"Tomorrow morning, then? Daniel can text your address to Charles for me? I'll pick you up!" she was being really nice about it.

"I thought you wanted to go today?" Charles said.

"That's when I thought I would have to go shopping with you, so I could use the extra time since you're the worst shopping partner ever!" she laughed at him.

"Burn!" Daniel laughed.

"His fashion taste is not the most reliable, let's face it" she laughed and kissed his cheek. "It's a date then (y/n)?" she looked expectantly at you. You didn't want to let her down, it was so hard to make friends with the girlfriends of other drivers, they were usually so... not nice. You could always just help her and find something to wear in your own stuff later.

"Yeah, sure! See you tomorrow, at 10?" you said simply.

"Perfect!" she beamed.

>>> end of part 1 <<<

[etherrreal]

“5:00am”

Pairing: ushijima x reader Genre: fluff Summary: looking back, you’re not sure what made you think that jogging with ushijima would end in anything but complete and utter disaster, but it’s too late to go back now WC: 5k Warnings: brief mentions of non-serious injury, a little blood, implied smut, too many paragraphs about ushijima’s hands A/N: first fic gang! this was supposed to be like 500 words but as the blog title suggests, i’m a liar -Dawn

You’re not sure what possesses you to go jogging with Ushijima at the ungodly hour of 5AM –and on a Saturday, no less– but here you are, tugging a windbreaker over your tank top and leggings while he waits for you by the door.

Most of it, you’re sure, is just because you miss him. The two of you have been so busy lately –you with your new job, him with the whole professional volleyball thing– so this is the first weekend in a while that you’ll actually be spending together.

It’s only natural that you want to spend as much time as possible with your boyfriend before your respective commitments are back to pulling you both in opposite directions, as they have more times than you’d like to admit in the past four months you’ve been dating.

Or maybe 5AM-you, lacking caffeine, sleep, and any sense of real judgment, is just losing your mind.

Ushijima certainly seems to think so, if the look he gives you when you volunteer to accompany him on his routine morning jog is any indication. He’s far from the most expressive person you’ve ever dated, but you’ve been with him long enough to register the surprise on his features; the way his pretty olive eyes widen a fraction and the way he pauses to watch you, like he’s trying to gauge how serious you are.

“What?” you ask as you join him by the door, removing your slippers.

He raises an eyebrow at you. “You hate running.”

“Running? Absolutely. Jogging, however, I think I can handle, especially if it’s with my handsome boyfriend who I haven’t spent nearly enough time with lately.”

With your slippers out of the way, you move to reach for your sneakers next. A quick glance in his direction confirms that he’s still giving you that same bewildered look, a crease forming between his eyebrows. It makes you falter as you pick up your sneakers, wondering if you’ve made a mistake.

Now that you think about it, he does usually jog on his own. The two of you are no strangers to working out together –if him doing push-ups with you perched comfortably on his back counts as working out– but you’ve never actually joined him on a morning run before.

Is this something he prefers to do alone? Are you overstepping his boundaries by inviting yourself along before checking to see if it was okay? Suddenly, you find yourself wishing you would’ve asked first.

“Do you...not want me to go with you? Because if you’d prefer to go alone, that’s totally fine, I’ll just–”

He catches your wrist before you can put your sneakers back down, and the rest of your sentence is lost somewhere between the fingertips he presses against your skin and the other hand he uses to lift yours.

It’s almost criminal, you think, the way a single touch from him is enough to completely derail your train of thought, whatever you were babbling about suddenly the furthest thing from your mind. You think you shouldn’t be as phased by it by now, not after all the time you’ve spent together, but no such luck.

Really, it’s his hands that are the problem, now that you think about it. His hands, steady and calloused and strong, but still so undeniably gentle and patient when it comes to you.

It’s hard to pick your favorite feature of Ushijima’s when he looks the way he does –all tanned skin, broad shoulders, and chiseled abs– but his hands are pretty high up on your list. They have been from the moment you met him at Iwaizumi’s housewarming party last year.

You had obviously seen him before, though you never actually spoke to him until the party. It was mostly during high school volleyball matches between Aoba Johsai and Shiratorizawa, courtesy of your childhood friendship with Oikawa and Iwaizumi.

You remember spotting Ushijima and thinking he looked so serious and unapproachable, even more imposing than he did in the photos of him featured in that Monthly Volleyball magazine you used to watch Oikawa vandalize with ridiculous-looking mustaches and devil horns.

When you saw Ushijima at Iwaizumi’s party, he still looked serious, not to mention larger and even more intimidating in person, but his hands were warm and kinder than you were expecting, careful in the way they wrapped around yours when he introduced himself. It was only hours later when those same hands reached for yours again to help you off the couch that you realized you spent the whole night with him.

Now, months later, you’re standing with him in his stupidly expensive apartment, half-panicked that you might’ve overestimated his desire to spend time with you. But Ushijima’s hands are still steady and warm against your skin, even now, reassuring in a way you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of.

“I’d love it if you joined me,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand, and if you weren’t smiling before, then you definitely are now.

You pull on his hand to tug him down towards you, a request that he silently obliges. You perch on your toes to reach him and deliver a chaste kiss to his lips, smiling against his mouth. When you pull away to look at him, you find him smiling, too, in that soft and subtle way of his that you’re so glad he’s chosen to share with you.

“Just promise me you’ll be careful,” he adds. “We’ll be running for a while, and I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re clumsier than most.”

Sadly, he’s not wrong. You are pretty clumsy, almost cartoonishly so. He’s watched you bang your leg on his dining room table practically every time you pass it, heard you curse to yourself after accidentally knocking down every item in his shower. At this point, holding your arm in his is as natural to him as breathing, just so he’s there to keep you from tripping over your own two feet.

And while you definitely appreciate the concern, you don’t think it’s entirely necessary, at least not for this. Sure, you have a bad habit of falling on your ass more often than not, but you’re also able to do so without sustaining any major injuries. You’re confident this time will be no different.

Besides, it’s just one jog. You’ll survive, even if your muscles might hate you for it later. Still, you know he worries about you, which is why you reach up to give him another quick kiss.

“Deal,” you assure him once you pull away. Then, you grin, voice taking on a more teasing edge as you look up at him. “As long as you promise not to be embarrassed when I leave you in the dust. You know, since I’m just so naturally athletic.”

Ushijima’s never been the best at detecting sarcasm, but with you, like so many other things, it’s different. He can tell you’re joking by the way you giggle and wink at him, and when he huffs out a quiet laugh, you smile and sit down to put on your sneakers.

He surprises you when he kneels to tie them for you before you get the chance to do it yourself.

“Careful, Wakatoshi,” you warn him, not for the first time. “If you keep being so sweet to me, you’ll never be able to get rid of me. You might just be stuck with me forever.”

“That’s fine,” he says, like he’s already considered the consequences before and has chosen to accept them. “You’re the only one I can imagine being with for that long, anyway.”

He moves on to tie the laces on your second sneaker, taking zero responsibility for the way his words make your heart flutter in your chest. He always does this: says stupidly romantic things with barely any prompting and absolutely no consideration or even awareness of the effect they have on you.

His voice doesn’t change when he says them, either. He uses the same blunt tone he always does, like it’s a simple fact, like he’s asking you to pass him his phone charger instead of alluding to a potential future with you.

It just makes you fall that much more in love with him.

Not that you’ve actually told him yet. You’re still waiting for the right moment. You wonder if maybe this might be it, but then he stands up and turns away from you to open the door and the opportunity is gone.

Maybe that’s for the best. This morning, you decide that you can handle jogging with your pro-athlete boyfriend or confessing your love for him, not both. The latter will just have to wait for dinner tonight, assuming you make it back in one piece and your legs don’t just fall off from the sudden exercise.

You stand up and follow him out the door.

Ushijima insists you both take the time to stretch before you actually start running, so you spend a few minutes doing so in the empty lobby. You pretend to struggle with a few of them, just so you’ll have an excuse to have his hands on you.

You’re almost positive he sees through your little ruse, if the amused look he gives you is any indication, but he doesn’t complain, guiding his hands over your body to help you bend and stretch like he can’t see the grin on your face.

Once you’re all warmed up, you’re ready to start jogging. You follow behind him as he leads you along his usual path down the block, the streets noticeably empty, save for the occasional passing car.

You know the only reason you’re able to keep up with him is because he’s slowing down for you, but you don’t let it bother you. He’s a professional athlete, after all, and you’re the kind of person who doesn’t even like to run to catch the bus, so it’s to be expected. Still, you give it your all, remembering to keep your breathing steady just like he taught you.

And you have to admit, your aversion to any sort of cardio aside, jogging with Ushijima is actually kind of fun.

For the first five minutes, at least.

Then it all goes to shit.

You’re not sure how it happens, either. One moment, everything is great. Sure, you’re already feeling a little sweaty, and maybe your lungs are screaming at you just a tiny bit –the price of inactivity, and all that– but you power through it because, in the words of so many great orators before you, mama ain’t raise no bitch.

But then you trip on something –a pothole in the street, your own foot, who the hell knows– and suddenly you’re wiping out for the entire world –or maybe just your boyfriend and that one stray cat you passed, which is still pretty embarrassing– to see.

Ushijima’s quite a few feet ahead of you now, because as much as he tried to slow down for you in the beginning, you figure he just can’t help but speed up a bit. He’s not the type to do anything half-assed, not even a casual morning jog. You’re almost grateful for it in a way, because it means he doesn’t actually see you trip and stumble like a baby deer learning to walk for the first time.

He does, however, hear the yelp that escapes your throat, making him glance over his shoulder just in time to see you fall forward. He runs back towards you, but he’s too far to reach you in time, and your knees hit the pavement hard, your hands shooting out to catch yourself as best as you can.

You don’t even have to look to know that the skin on both your knees and your palms is scraped up. There’s also a shooting pain that starts at your ankle and darts right up your leg, reassuring you that you most definitely stepped on it wrong.

Ushijima is by your side in an instant, normally stoic face scrunched up with worry. He helps you twist yourself into a more comfortable position on the sidewalk, though it does little to ease your embarrassment or your annoyance with your own incoordination.

“I’m okay,” you try to reassure him, but that’s not entirely the truth. Your palms are stinging and your ankle is throbbing, not to mention the fact that your knees currently resemble a cat’s scratching post. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

The look he gives you is doubtful, and you know for a fact he doesn’t believe you at all. “You’re bleeding.”

And holy crap, you are. It shouldn’t be a surprise to you, since you felt the entire thing, but the sight of the blood on your knees and palms still stuns you a bit.

“Come on.” He wraps his arms around you, pulling you up with ease you would normally marvel at if it didn’t make you feel so pathetic. “We’re going back. I’ll be able to treat your wounds and take a better look at your ankle.”

“Whaa– but we’ve barely even started jogging!” you protest, pouting despite the stinging of your cuts. “I told you that I’m fine, Toshi. I can still walk–”

You try to put pressure on the ankle you rolled and immediately wince. You almost stumble forward again, but this time Ushijima is there to catch you, holding you against him with his arms around your waist.

“No, you can’t. You need to treat your injuries, so stop being stubborn and let me help you. We’re going back.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, eyebrows drawing together in frustration –mostly at yourself– but stubborn as you are, you know he’s right. There’s no arguing your way out of this one, not that he would listen to you in the first place. He’s always been protective of you, which means he won’t be budging on this.

You heave a defeated sigh but nod at him anyway, relenting. He helps you hobble along with your arm around his shoulders and his arm around your waist for a few steps before he seems to think better of it.

In one fluid motion, he’s picking you up in his arms, holding you bridal style against his chest. And while normally his arms are one of your favorite places to be, the fact that he has to carry you like this all because you’re an idiot who can’t watch where you’re going is doing nothing to ease your already damaged pride.

You try to convince him to put you down and let you walk on your own, but unsurprisingly, he doesn’t agree. Your face, which is already warm with embarrassment, just seems to heat up even more. Your mortification only increases when you spot his apartment building a few streets later.

God, the two of you were running for what, maybe five minutes? Six? And now you’re already back home? Talk about embarrassing. And right after you promised him to be careful, too.

The fact that the pothole –which you are now deciding to blame for your fall, because you don’t think your ego can handle anything else– had the audacity to trip you and then not immediately swallow you whole to save you this embarrassment is honestly disrespectful, at this point.

Ushijima was right earlier. You do hate running. And you hate yourself even more for believing that jogging at any hour –least of all 5AM– would end in anything other than complete and utter disaster.

Your only consolation is that it’s so early, chances are that no one else saw you trip and almost eat shit in the middle of the street. It’s the little victories that count, you suppose, though you might just have to burn this outfit later to rid yourself of the reminder. You’re not sure how you’re ever going to live this one down.

Thankfully, the universe seems to take some pity on you, since you don’t pass any of Ushijima’s neighbors in the lobby. He maneuvers you into the apartment, managing to close the door behind him and remove his sneakers without putting you down.

When he does finally let you go, it’s to place you delicately on his bed. He disappears from the room and returns a moment later with a first aid kit and an ice pack, while you flop defeatedly onto your back against his pillows, pouting.

“I can’t believe I actually fell.” You groan, throwing an arm over your eyes. You feel the bed dip beneath his weight as he sits beside you, but you still don’t move. “The one time I willingly decide to run, and this is what happens. We didn’t even make it past the supermarket!”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. It could’ve happened to anyone,” he says, opening the first aid kit. His voice is as straightforward as ever, but you know he’s trying to comfort you in his own way. “Besides, it could’ve been a lot worse.”

“Worse than twisting my ankle and making a fool of myself five minutes in?” You shift to prop yourself up on your elbows and raise an eyebrow at him. “How?”

“You could’ve twisted your ankle and made a fool of yourself two minutes in instead.”

The bluntness of his response makes you snort, cracking a half-smile as you push yourself to sit up fully. “Good point.”

You watch as he gets to work, mesmerized by how careful he is with you. He takes your palms in his hands, wiping away the blood gently and cleaning the small scratches it reveals. The scrapes on your knees, which he moves to next, sting more, but he moves slowly enough that it doesn’t overwhelm you. He’s always taken such good care of you, and this time is no different.

After all of your scrapes are covered, he examines your ankle, which is unsurprisingly the worst of your injuries. When he helps you tug your sneaker and sock off, you can both see it’s already swelling.

It’s not broken, he assures you, but it is lightly sprained. You’ll need to rest and compress it until you’re ready to walk on it again, but the ice should help with the swelling. He lifts your ankle on top of a few pillows to keep it elevated, covering it with the ice pack.

He moves higher up on the bed to sit beside you against the headboard, searching your face for any signs of discomfort. “How does that feel?”

“It still hurts, but it’s not as bad as before,” you answer. “Honestly, I think my pride is more damaged than anything else.”

You lean back against the pillows propped up on his headboard and sigh, unable to stop the guilty frown tugging at your lips. As grateful as you are for his help, you also feel really bad that he had to stop and take care of you at all.

If you hadn’t insisted on joining him on his run, then none of this would’ve happened. You would still have two normal-sized ankles, and he would be able to finish his run without having to worry about you and your chronic clumsiness.

“I’m sorry I ruined our jog,” you find yourself apologizing, fiddling with the hem of your shirt guiltily. “It was supposed to be cute and fun, but all I did was screw it up. I’m sorry you had to come back to take care of me.”

Ushijima shakes his head. “Taking care of you isn’t a burden. There’s no need for you to apologize.”

His hands reach for yours, large enough to engulf your own as he turns them over. His eyes follow the path his fingertips trace lightly over the band-aids covering the scratches on your palms. “If I hadn’t gone on ahead of you–”

You press a hand against his chest to stop him, his eyes flickering back up to meet your own.

As endearing as his concern is, he’s not the one at fault here. You don’t think anyone is, really, except for maybe that damned pothole you may or may not have tripped on. More importantly, you don’t want him to blame himself for this.

“Nuh-uh, nope, none of that. I’m the one who tripped, remember? It’s not your fault I suck at running. Or any kind of physical activity, actually.”

You pause, tilting your head thoughtfully as you mull over your own words. He watches the mischievous smile he’s learned to love appear on your face, hears the teasing edge seeping into your tone as you lower your voice just a bit.

“Except maybe the one that involves you railing me into the mattress,” you add with a smirk, playful and just shameless enough in a way that never fails to draw him in even more. “That one, I don’t mind, for obvious reasons.”

He sighs, though your words don’t surprise him. “I really wish you wouldn’t word it that way.”

“Too late~”

You’re practically singing as you grin at him, grabbing his chin and bringing his face closer to yours.

He mutters something about you having a one track mind, but you don’t miss the amusement in his eyes or the fond little smile he casts in your direction. He doesn’t stop you from pulling him in either, allowing you to rest your other hand on the side of his face.

“Thank you for taking such good care of me, Wakatoshi.”

You meet him halfway for a loving kiss that you hope is enough to express your gratitude, one he doesn’t hesitate to return. When you break apart, he rests his forehead against yours.

And right when you think you can’t possibly love him anymore, he promises quietly, sincerely, “Always.”

As usual, he gives you no time to recover. He kisses you on the forehead and then stands up, announcing that there’s something else he needs to go grab before leaving the room.

Honestly, you’re hoping it’s food. You’re starving, and after all of this morning’s excitement* (see also: trauma), there’s nothing more you want than to cuddle up alongside your boyfriend while enjoying a plate of your favorite breakfast food.

To your surprise –and slight disappointment– when Ushijima returns, it’s not with food or anything else to treat your injuries, but rather with a set of keys. He sits beside you again, opening his palm to offer them to you.

“Well, those aren’t pancakes.” You take the keys anyway, twirling the ring around one of your fingers before raising an eyebrow at him. “Are these what I think they are?”

“The keys to my apartment,” he confirms. “I want you to move in with me.”

Your eyes widen. It’s not the last thing you expected him to ask you when he offered you the keys, but it’s definitely not the first one either.

When he first held them out to you, you thought maybe he was just giving you a copy of your own to hold onto, just in case you ever needed them. You’ve thought about offering him the same a few times before, just so he could let himself into your own apartment whenever he comes over instead of you having to get up and open the door for him.

But that’s not what’s happening here. It looks like Ushijima’s chosen to skip the exchanging apartment keys step entirely in favor of just straight up asking you to move in with him. And while part of you is thrilled by it, your heart hammering in your chest with excitement at the prospect of getting to wake up next to him every day, of getting to come home to him, there’s another part of you that’s wondering if maybe you’re moving too fast.

It’s not that you don’t trust him, or that you doubt how much he cares for you, because you don’t. Your previous partners couldn’t even spell commitment, much less agree to it, but Ushijima’s not like them.

He told you, not too long after the first few times you went out together, that he doesn’t believe in dating casually or wasting his time. If he’s with someone, it’s because he sees a future with them. Hearing that was a bit intimidating at first, but it was also extraordinarily refreshing.

Asking you to move in with him, you know, is just another step towards that future. And while the idea excites you, making you feel more secure and adored than in any of your past relationships, there’s a part of you that’s still a bit hesitant.

After all, what sets you and Ushijima apart –more than your senses of humor, more than your completely different levels of athletic ability, as evidenced by the ice pack and bandages you’re currently sporting– is the fact that you, unlike him, often get caught up in the “what-if’s” of a situation. Whenever you have to make a decision, you psych yourself out by imagining every little thing that could possibly go wrong.

He calls your name, tearing you from your thoughts. He’s looking at you like he already knows what you’re thinking, like he can see the tangle of anxiety you feel nestling into your bones. Maybe that’s why he reaches out to take the hand that’s not holding his keys, lacing your fingers together.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “You haven’t said anything.”

“I know, I know, I’m just...processing.” You give his hand a quick squeeze, moving the keys around in your other palm. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

“Since my last away game.” He answers right away like he doesn’t have to think about it, like he just knows. Not for the first time, you find yourself envying his conviction. “I went straight to your apartment from the airport, and you were already there, waiting. I realized how much I liked the idea of getting to come home to you, and vice versa. I’ve been waiting for the right time to ask you to move in since then.”

“Wakatoshi, that was last month. You’ve known since back then?” You stare at him with wide, wondering eyes, your cheeks already warming at the implication, growing even warmer when he nods. “And you don’t think it’s too soon? You’re not the least bit hesitant about living with me?”

“Hesitation is only necessary for those who are unsure of their desires. I know what I want, and that’s you, if you’ll have me.”

If you’ll have me. He says it like it’s easy. Like he’s already yours, to love and to be loved by.

And he is, you realize. He has been for a while, just like you have. You knew you were in love with him this morning, and you’ve known it for weeks before that, too. You just weren’t sure when or how to bring it up, but now you are.

“I’d like that. I like you– wait, that’s not right.” You release his hand, and he stares at you in confusion, the corner of his mouth curving downward. You’re quick to smooth it away with your thumb, your eyes earnest and full of affection as you correct yourself, “I love you, Wakatoshi.”

The confusion in his eyes quickly transforms into surprise. You’re not sure what stuns him more: your confession itself, or the confident, doubtless way you say it. You smile at him and take his face into your hands, careful to move his keys so they don’t scratch him.

“I’ve known it for a while. I just wasn’t sure when to bring it up, but now I am. I don’t expect you to say it back unless you’re ready, but–”

“I love you,” he says confidently, unwaveringly, and now it’s your turn to be stunned.

You blink, taken aback for a few seconds before your lips begin curving into a goofy smile. “Really?”

He hums affirmatively, and after that you can’t do anything besides kiss him. He’s quick to return the gesture, moving his mouth against yours and winding one arm around your waist to pull you closer. He pulls back from you right when you’re about to deepen the kiss. You try to pout, but it’s hard to do so when you feel as giddy and over the moon as you do now.

“Does this mean you’ll be moving in with me?”

“Of course.” You beam at him. “I’d love to move in with you, Wakatoshi.”

He smiles, his arm moving up to wrap around your shoulders, and your own smile grows brighter as you lean into him, cuddling against his side and resting your head against his chest. Things between you are quiet for a few moments, both of you basking in the comfortable silence.

You’re shifting his keys in your hand when a thought occurs to you, and you can’t help the laugh that escapes your chest.

“So this is why you let me go running with you this morning,” you tease. “You knew that if I did injure myself, that would just make it harder for me to leave, so I’d have no choice but to say yes to moving in. How sneaky of you.”

“You volunteered to join me–”

“I know, Toshi, I’m just kidding.” You grin, tilting your head to look up at him. “So, what do you say we go make some breakfast in your kitchen? I’m starving.”

“Our kitchen now,” he corrects, and your heart flutters in your chest for what must be the tenth time in the hour or so you’ve been awake this morning. It can’t be healthy for you. “And I’ll be the one making breakfast. You stay here and rest that ankle.”

He kisses your forehead and stands up to head into the kitchen. You frown at the loss of his warmth, but another look at the keys in your hand has you smiling again.

Maybe jogging isn’t so bad after all.

Written by: Dawn