#but they’re at the kid’s dad’s house this week while the mom is on vacation | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

threadbaresweater · 1 year

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Unexpected

As a recent divorcee, you're eager for a chance to spend a summer alone, finding who you are apart from your asshole ex-husband. Your best friend surprises you with the trip of a lifetime, and you spend a blissful three months walking along the beaches of a quaint coastal town. Enter Nanami Kento, widower of two years, his name on the lips of every woman in town. He's never shown interest in anyone until you come along. What blossoms between the two of you is more than either of you could ever hope for.

The details: 8.5k words, slow-burn romance, NSFW for eventual smut (oral sex, vanilla sex). Reader is divorced and has a child. This is a repost from a collab I did last summer.

The divorce was…well, it was.

You had married your high school sweetheart– first love, first kiss, first time. Now, you chuckled dryly to yourself while driving from the courthouse, I can call him my first husband.

You had no plans to marry again anytime soon…or, ever for that matter. The freedom you had experienced the past few months was more than wonderful– enough to convince you that staying single was the way to go. You didn't need a man. You were a strong, independent woman with ample free time, a job you loved, hobbies and friends and a beautiful child you got to dote on every other week.

The custody arrangement also allowed for summers spent with each parent on alternating years. The first summer belonged to your now ex-husband, which meant you had three months alone to spend however you pleased.

It was an emotional goodbye with your daughter, who didn't quite understand why you had to leave and why she had to spend the entire summer with her father. You reassured her that you could FaceTime every day, that she would have loads of fun with her dad and his new girlfriend, and that she could write and call anytime she wanted. The poor girl wasn’t convinced in the least, and you watched– tearful, behind your oversized sunglasses– as her father ushered her into the back of his car. The guilt ate at you long after they drove away, but you knew she would be safe with him. A little bored, most likely, but safe.

On the drive back home, your best friend called; all you could hear was excited squealing on the other end.

“What’s going on?” you shouted, laughing.

“I have a surprise for you!” she boasted; you could almost hear her bouncing up and down. You rolled your eyes and sighed, though your grin remained plastered on your face. “Oh yeah? Let me guess: a vacation house full of hot bachelors who are going to attend to my every need, all summer long.”

She gasped dramatically. “How did you know?”

“It’s my wildest fantasy. You’re my best friend, therefore you’re in my head and know exactly what I want, all the time.” You signaled a turn, driving away from the sunset. “But seriously, what’s the surprise? You know I hate surprises.”

“How rude!” she scoffed. “I’ll have you know that you were at least partially correct with your wild guess.”

You raised a brow. “Oh yeah? Which part? Please tell me it’s the hot bachelors. God knows I could use a personal massage with a happy ending.”

“Nope. Sorry, babe. But! My mom and dad said they’re not using their vacation property this summer. I told them about your divorce and they insisted that I give you the key to their house!” She squealed again, and you could hear the patter of her feet on the floor, wherever she was sitting. “Girl, you get a whole summer to yourself in a little house by the sea. Ah, I used to love going there when I was a kid! We used to have the best time, just hanging out by the water every day, riding bikes, eating ice cream…” She trailed off, her voice sounding wistful and far-away. “Seriously, you’re going to love it. Wanna stop by and grab the key?”

“Really? I.. well…” You were speechless. Though you really hadn’t made any plans yet, you knew that most of the summer would be spent practicing some much-needed self care. You had just planned on doing it at your own place, alone. But a vacation house close to the ocean sounded like something out of a romance novel– a place where you could re-center and learn about yourself again. A place to work through the pain of the past and learn to slow down and appreciate the little things in life.

"You still with me?" your friend laughed.

"Yeah, I– yeah. I'll be over in a few."

The day you arrived was picture perfect in every way. Warm sunlight and a gentle breeze streamed through your open car windows, and you could smell the sea as soon as you reached the quaint little town. Most people walked or rode bikes, and you slowed to a snail's pace, taking in the sights. Everyone seemed relaxed– laughter rang throughout the town, children shouted, bicycle bells rang, and the scent of cotton candy and sea breeze seemed to permeate the air. You knew instantly that this summer would be exactly what you needed, and you told yourself right then and there that you’d spend it in the most leisurely way possible.

The house was furnished, so all you really had to bring was personal effects– clothes, toiletries, a few good reads you’d picked up at the bookseller back home. The cupboards boasted plenty of space for food, and you planned to go grocery shopping later in the evening, as soon as you got everything else settled. You spent a little bit of time exploring the house, then opened the back doors that led directly to a boardwalk to the ocean. The view was immaculate– soft sand slipped beneath your bare feet as you walked toward the shoreline, a heavy wind whipping your hair around your face. Holding onto your oversized sun hat so it didn’t blow away, you took in a deep, cleansing breath and closed your eyes, a languid smile curling its way onto your lips.

Paradise.

A summer alone wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.

Later, after a bike ride to the market, you hummed to yourself as you perused the narrow aisles, delighting in the cute brand names and marveling at the freshness of the produce. It seemed that everything was made and packaged locally, which made your heart happy. Focused on how plump and ripe the plums you picked out were, you didn’t notice the man standing in front of the tomatoes and ran straight into his side. He didn’t move– in fact, you don’t think he even stumbled in the least. He just stood there like a pillar and stared at you– expressionless, if not a little bored and annoyed.

You laughed sheepishly and took a step back, dropping your plums into your basket. “Sorry about that,” you said, looking into his brown eyes that seemed to hold nothing but disdain for your clumsiness.

“It’s alright,” he responded, turning back to inspect the tomatoes. “You should be more careful, though. Some might not be as forgiving as I am.”

Nodding, you turned to walk in the opposite direction, avoiding eye contact and feeling like a fool. “Right. Sorry again,” you mumbled. Wonder if he’s a local, you thought as you grabbed a few more vegetables and made your way to the cash register. Just as you were finishing up, he came to stand in line behind you and actually gave you a thin, tight smile when you looked back at him. Why did you blush? You turned away quickly and paid the sweet cashier, then hurried out to your bike, your heart pounding. Not out of fear, but for some reason you couldn’t quite explain. You secured your little bag of groceries in the basket on the front of your bike and pushed off, your eye on the sky. It looked like rain, and you needed to pedal fast.

Just as the first few drops of rain began to fall, you arrived home and scurried inside before getting completely drenched, then set about making dinner for one. You were used to only cooking for yourself during the weeks your daughter wasn’t home, but for some reason this meal felt particularly empty. Music will help, you thought, so you streamed some music from your phone onto the little speaker mounted under one of the cupboards and tried your best to quell the loneliness. Tomorrow would be better. Once you were settled in, had a good night’s sleep, and spent some time on the water, the whole idea would be much easier to stomach. You made plans to visit the rest of town tomorrow, to see what it had to offer.

It was nice, when you really sat down and thought about it. No routine, no deadlines. No rigorous schedule to keep or meetings to attend. It had been a long time since you’d been alone with your thoughts, and while at first it felt uncomfortable, it seemed to be exactly what the doctor had ordered.

You spent the first few days wandering through town, walking on the beach collecting shells, and devouring both books you’d brought along. You discovered all sorts of boutiques, art co-ops, coffee shops, even a pottery studio. It felt like something out of a daydream. Everyone was kind and pleasant, even the tourist families who tore through on weekends and laughed loud and hearty along the boardwalk. There was also a small library in town, and you spent an entire afternoon perusing the shelves and ended up getting a membership card to keep your appetite for reading satiated.

You found the library to be your favorite place to visit. Of all the little shops and public places, the atmosphere was exactly what you were looking for, what you craved. Quaint, quiet, and full of all the books you could ever want to read and then some, you visited often, especially on days when it rained.

The summer was one of the rainiest on record, according to some of the locals. You recalled something your grandmother had told you about rain meaning good luck and good fortune, so you didn’t get too disappointed when the weather didn’t bode well for outdoor days.

The handsome stranger from the market seemed to enjoy it as well. You’d find him in the same corner nearly every time you visited, his nose in a new book, blonde hair hanging over his forehead, an air of importance hanging around him. One afternoon, you perused the shelves near his seat and accidentally dropped the book in your hand. “Sorry,” you offered, sheepishly kneeling to pick up the paperback that had fallen to the floor.

He responded with a grunt, not even bothering to look up at you.

Well, you thought. Could be worse. He could have shushed me or gotten up to move to another area.

At the checkout desk, the friendly clerk gave you a conspiratorial smile. “I see you’ve met Mr. Kento.”

“Hm?” You glanced back at the man and found him looking at you, but as soon as you made eye contact, he looked back down at his book, turning the page and crossing his legs the opposite way. “Oh, him? Nah, we don’t know each other.”

The clerk chuckled as she scanned your books. “Honey, he’s here just as much as you are. I’m sure you two have had some kind of conversation in the couple of weeks you’ve been around.”

You shook your head. “I mean, we run into each other sometimes. At the market, mostly. I think I’ve seen him once or twice at the cafe, but–” You stopped short, watching her expression change into something akin to amusement. “Yeah, I guess we do run in similar circles. I don’t know his name, though. We’ve barely spoken two words to each other.” Leaning in, you lowered your voice. “Do you know his story?”

“Oh, honey, he’s a widower. His wife and daughter– bless their sweet souls– passed away in a terrible car accident years ago. He’s been around here ever since. The house he lives in was their family home.” She threw him a sympathetic look. “It’s been a long time, and I never really see him talking to anyone. To me, it’s a little sad. I think he’s still grieving.”

Nodding, you gathered your books and threw another glance in his direction before heading out the door. As you straddled your bike, you heard the bell on the door and looked up to find none other than Mr. Kento himself, sliding his sunglasses down off his head and onto his face. A brief moment of eye contact gave you pause, and you lifted a hand in greeting, hoping he wouldn’t blow you off.

“Are you a spy?” he called, stepping down the concrete stairs.

You had to laugh. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you!”

“So you are.” He pursed his lips, then stopped. “Tell me something about yourself so I don’t have to keep up this wild guessing game I’ve been playing with myself.”

“Guessing game? Are you really that suspicious of me?” You tilted your head to the side and offered him a small smirk– one which he did not return, nor did he look even the least bit amused.

Nanami crossed his arms and frowned. “I don’t have all day.”

“Fine. I’m a teacher, not a spy. And I’m just here for the summer.”

“That will suffice. Thank you,” he said, then strolled off in the opposite direction. You stood in place for a few moments, watching him leave, then headed home.

In the days following, you saw him in passing several times in town and on the beach. He always looked deep in thought; a dismal melancholy seemed to hang around him, as if he might have been carrying the spirit of his daughter and wife everywhere he went. Perhaps he did– you knew firsthand what it was like to be away from your daughter, but the depth of the pain of losing her forever was something you couldn't fathom, nor did you particularly want to.

He carried himself with a fatigued kind of poise– like a man who had worked so long and so hard to move on with his life but was still dragged down by his own personal demons that he felt there might be no escaping them. Tall and broad shouldered, you found yourself sometimes staring at him a little too long, thankful for the shield of your sunglasses so he didn't notice. Sometimes, he would find you and look back in your direction, but he'd never smile or wave. Just stare. You wanted to know what he was thinking when he watched you like that. You wanted a chance to talk more with him than just in passing.

One morning, your neighbor coaxed you into taking a hot yoga class. At first, you had balked at the idea. Yoga was supposed to be relaxing, not sweaty and uncomfortable. She convinced you somehow, touting the benefits and the promise of pure, unadulterated relaxation. Sweating out toxins and stress, letting your body really feel the burn in a climate-controlled studio where they cranked up the heat and the humidity.

The class was mind blowing. You really felt as if you had transcended to another plane. The instructor was kind and knowledgeable, the classmates respectful and attuned to their own needs. As you and your neighbor were chatting on your way out, using fresh, cool towels to dab at the sweat on your face and chest, you looked up and came face to face with a familiar face.

“You’re here,” he said, matter-of-fact, almost disinterested.

You raised a brow at him. “Well, um, yeah. I am.” You chuckled lightly and looked at your friend, who smiled back at you with a look that spoke of confusion and intrigue. “I’ve never done this before. Do you, ah, come here often?” The way you said it, it sounded like a corny pick-up line and you rolled your eyes at yourself, puffing out your cheeks in embarrassment.

He huffed something akin to a breathy laugh which felt strangely out of character, looking between the two of you; you were suddenly distracted by a bead of sweat that ran down his neck and settled into the curve above his collarbone, and barely heard his response. Totally bewildered now, you looked up at him, jaw slack, eyes wide. “Twice a week,” he answered, looking incredibly bemused.

Nodding, you looked at your friend and laughed a little at yourself. Oh God, this was nerve wracking in a way you felt embarrassed about. It felt like talking to your high school crush– the familiar jolt of adrenaline made your heart pump a little faster and your head tingle. You know your cheeks were flushed bright, and it had absolutely nothing to do with yoga. “It’s an intense experience. I never thought I’d enjoy sweating on purpose.”

The man offered a thin, strained smile. “How were the plums?”

“I beg your pardon?” you asked.

“The plums. From the market the other day? Did you enjoy them?”

He remembered. Which meant one of two things: he had been thinking of you, or he just had an incredible memory for details. You looked into his brown eyes for the answers but found him hard to read. “I– yes. They were delicious. I bought more the other day but you weren’t there to approve,” you said with a grin.

By now, your friend had quietly retreated to the shower room, leaving you with this handsome stranger again. An awkward air of uncertainty hung between you, and he nodded once, taking a step toward you. You took a step toward him for some reason, then you both stopped. A sheepish laugh filled the void, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, if we keep meeting like this, people are going to talk."

You wished you could stop laughing at everything he said, but it was a knee-jerk reaction– one that made you sound like a total ditz. The more you did, though, the more he seemed to relax in your presence, as if your teenage girl behavior made him less self-conscious about his own rigid demeanor. “I guess that’s their problem, isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is.”

You shrugged and dabbed at the back of your neck with your towel. “I mean at this point, we might as well give them something to talk about and exchange numbers, huh?” A bold move, one you had no idea how it would be received. You knew what you hoped for, but you didn’t want to be presumptuous. You took a step back to reclaim your own space and kept smiling that same nervous smile you’re sure had been plastered onto your face during this whole encounter.

It obviously took him by surprise, but he nodded once, signaling that he agreed with your sentiment. “I’ll meet you out front after I’ve had a chance to shower,” he said, hooking his thumb over his shoulder toward the bathrooms.

True to his word, he waited for you at the entrance, leaning casually on one of the support beams outside. After exchanging numbers came another loaded, awkward silence before he extended a hand. “My name’s Kento. Nanami Kento.”

You accepted his handshake and nodded. “I know.” You gave him your name as well, not missing the way his brow quirked and his lip curled ever so slightly.

“You know?”

There went your heart again, skipping a couple of beats as you realized there should be no way in hell you already knew his name unless you’d been doing some recon. “I, well– I found out at the library the other day. The woman at the desk asked me if I knew you and she told me a little bit about you.” There. Blame it on the librarian.

“Oh. I see.” He pursed his lips and seemed to close off, the little progress you’d made in cracking him all but closed up now.

“She didn’t reveal much.” Lies. “Just told me your name!”

“I see,” he repeated, a little quieter.

You decided it was best to take your leave at that point and offered him a quick goodbye, followed by an exuberant “Call me!” before meeting your neighbor where she stood waiting by the bike rack, rolling with laughter at the show she’d just witnessed.

Not surprisingly, he wasn’t the first to text or call. You gave it two days and mulled over dozens of possible opening lines, then finally decided to break the ice on a rainy, mid-week afternoon.

Lovely weather we’re having, huh?

It took him two hours to text back. You only checked your phone 47 times while waiting.

DelightfulI fell asleep watching the rainWhat’s exciting in your world today besides the weather?You smiled and texted back right away:

A good book and even better wineI’ve been reading most of the afternoon. Not much else to doYou mean to tell me you don’t enjoy long walks in a torrential downpour?

Not particularly lolWhat about you?

You don’t see me out there, do you?

I’d need an awfully good reason to be walking in this weather

Would be a shame if someone invited you out for dinner

Yeah, I wouldn’t goNot tonight

There was a bit of a pause. A few minutes ticked by, and you stared at your screen with bated breath, wondering if maybe he got a phone call or fell asleep again.

What about tomorrow? Forecast looks sunny

Are you asking me to dinner?

I suppose I am

Giddy, you covered your mouth and squealed, pattering your feet on the floor before shooting back a response.

What time?

7:00?

Sounds like a date!

You sent it without thinking, but it was too late. You slapped a hand to your forehead and felt your fingers tremble, waiting for his reply.

YesA date… see you then.

If you had overstepped some kind of unspoken boundary, he didn’t acknowledge it, but that didn’t make you feel any less nervous or worried. You spent the rest of the afternoon putting together an outfit, anticipating dinner tomorrow night with more excitement than you’d felt for anything in a long time.

At seven o’clock on the dot, you arrived at his house, which ended up just being a short walk away from yours. Really, everything in this little community was reachable by a walk or a bike ride, so you weren’t too surprised when only ten minutes into your walk, you had found his address. The main door was open, leaving only a wood frame screen door as a barrier between his home and the outside world. Warm yellow light spilled from the entryway, and you could already smell whatever he was cooking. In your hand you carried a bottle of wine, and he pushed the door open for you before you even had a chance to knock or ring the bell.

“Ah, you’re punctual. I like that,” he said, lifting his arm so that you could duck under it and step inside. He took the wine from you and headed toward the kitchen; you had no choice but to trail behind, taking quick stock of his house. Tidy, but homey. Touches of seaside decor, a handmade afghan on the back of a rather elegant looking couch. Soft music played on the stereo, and there was no sign of children or pets anywhere.

“You live alone?” you asked, then reprimanded yourself. You sure had grown bold in the type of questions you’d been asking lately. Though it didn’t seem to bother him, because he set the wine down in the middle of his kitchen table and went about his business as you took a seat.

“I do. No children, no pets. No surprise wife.” Turning his attention to the stove, he seemed to find your question amusing and hid his smile. “What about you?”

You thought about your daughter back home. “Ex-husband. I have a daughter, too– she’s eight. Spending the summer with her dad.”

He nodded, then turned to you. Somehow in those few seconds that passed, he’d managed to open the bottle of wine and pour two glasses. Handing one over to you, he studied your face. You wish you could say you knew what he was looking for, but whatever it was he seemed satisfied once he found it. He raised the glass and took a sip of his wine, seeming to mull over the flavor; he swallowed and made a deep hum in his throat, “Excellent selection. You’re a wine lover, yes?”

A little bit of your nervousness began to dissipate, and you took a drink, too, mainly to wet your lips and tongue, which had been bone dry since you set foot on his porch. “Wine enthusiast, foodie, woman who desires a vacation away from her sad life on the mainland.”

He grunted a little at that, then continued his work with food preparation. “Your life doesn’t sound so sad. A child? That’s one of life’s greatest joys, isn’t it?”

Nanami had you there, and you knew it. Nodding, you fiddled nervously with one of the linen napkins he’d set out. “You’re right. She’s really special. Makes life worth living sometimes, you know?”

You couldn’t see it– not with his back turned to you– but pain shot through his gaze and he faltered while plating your dinner. “I do know,” he murmured under his breath.

“Beg your pardon?”

Plates in hand, he turned and set them down on the table in front of you, then slipped into the chair across from you. “I said I do know. About children making life worth living.”

“Oh! So you do have children?” You hoped that the tone of your voice didn't give away the fact that you already knew.

“Had. A daughter. She and my wife…” he trailed off, finding the napkin in his lap of great interest now.

His expression spoke of deep anguish, of unresolved guilt and overwhelming grief. Out of reflex, you reached across the table to cover his hand with yours. He was warm and soft, his hand trembling slightly. “I didn’t mean to pry,” you said.

“No, no. It’s alright. It’s been two years now. I need to learn to talk about it. Just not right now.” His demeanor shifted again, and he looked up at you with a soft smile. “I’d like to not talk about such heavy things while we get to know each other, wouldn’t you agree?”

“It doesn’t matter to me what we talk about,” you said with a shrug. “I’m just thankful for a meal I didn’t have to cook and some new company.” Lifting your glass, you smiled at him. “To new adventures. May we be fruitful in our pursuits.”

Nanami stared at you and raised his glass to toast. “To new adventures.”

Dinner led to a walk on the beach, which led to another bottle of wine on his back porch, which led to your head drooping onto his shoulder at some point well past midnight. He stiffened at first, the touch of a woman something he didn't feel was right to enjoy. The simple weight of you there made his stomach flutter, and he turned his head, tapping your chin with his index finger.

He said your name and you looked up at him, a lazy, drunken smile making its way across your face. "Don't fall asleep on me. I'm not done talking yet."

You lifted your head, widening your eyes. "What if I'm done listening?" you teased, feeling woozy and silly.

"Then I'll walk you home, if that's what you want. I wouldn't want to bore you any longer than necessary."

"You're not boring me, Nanami. I'm just relaxed. For the first time in ages, I feel like I can finally just rest," you said, turning to look out at the sea again. "For months I've just felt like I was running from something. And I was, really. From my ex husband, from a life that I didn't want, from my fears and my insecurities. I'm so goddamn tired and I just want to lie down and sleep." Tears fell unchecked down your cheeks and you sniffled, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "I'm so tired," you repeated, your voice weary and thin.

There was a beat of silence, then you felt his weight shift beside you and he stood up, extending a hand to you. "If you're tired, let's walk," he said.

He wasn't ready to take you home. Not yet.

Another hour of conversation and you felt like you'd known him your entire life. The alcohol began to wear off and you found yourself more coherent, if not experiencing a bit of that weird, hollow feeling of being drunk and sleep deprived at the same time. At some point he held your hand, and you didn't remember when or how– just that it felt right and good, as natural as breathing.

Your walk took you to your own back porch, where he lingered for another hour saying good night. The sun peeking over the horizon brought you back down to earth and suddenly ready to go inside and try to catch a few winks of sleep.

"Thank you for your company," he said earnestly, picking a stray lock of hair away from your forehead. "It's been a long time since I've indulged in the company of a woman." Guilt flashed through his eyes, glassy from lack of sleep. "Since my wife passed, if I'm being totally honest. I– I've avoided getting to know someone… because I still love her," he said, his voice thick and quiet.

You squeezed his hand and watched as a single tear escaped from his left eye, daylight filling the space between you with each passing moment. "I understand," you whispered, unsure of what else to say.

"I'd like to see you again. Whenever you're free." It wasn't a question. He squeezed your hand this time and watched you closely as if calculating the odds of you saying yes.

"Sure, I'd love that." How about tomorrow? "Maybe the weekend? There's a little restaurant on the pier that I'd like to try. There's live music, too, if you're keen on dancing."

For the first time, he smiled. Genuinely, a bit uncomfortably– but a smile nonetheless. Nanami nodded and let go of your hand as you walked side by side up to your back porch. "I would enjoy that. I'll meet you there, say…seven thirty on Saturday?"

Dinner on the pier was a dream. Of course there were drinks as well, so by the time you finished eating, you were more than ready to take to the dance floor and finally move to the lively music the house band had been playing all evening. Namami surprised you here, too. For all of his stoicism and uptight demeanor, he was a skilled dancer. You struggled to keep up with him at times, but his broad hand at the small of your back and his confident steps kept you from making a total and utter fool of yourself. Even during the slower numbers, he held you with poise and confidence, and though you knew in your heart he wasn't interested in a romantic connection, you couldn't help but hope for something magical to happen tonight.

"You dance well," you said, halfway through one particular song in which you could feel the bassline pumping through your veins. That soft, barely-there smile of his made a delightful reappearance, and he studied your face with those deep brown eyes.

"My wife was a dancer," he said, spinning you out, then back in to fold his arms around your waist, your back to his chest. "She had students, one of which was the man you're dancing with now."

A moment passed, and you felt his warm breath on your ear, stirring a wisp of your hair as he exhaled. "I see," you breathed, trying desperately to quell the desire you felt building from the pit of your stomach. Though you wanted to live very much in the present with him– here and now– you found yourself thinking about what his life must have been like before the accident. A million and one questions came to mind, but you had no idea just how much or how little he wanted to talk about her. "She must have taught you well."

He chuckled, low and thoughtful, and the sound of it vibrated against your back. "I'm just a good student. Observant. Intuitive." He spun you around so that you had no choice but to look up at him again, nearly nose to nose. "I've always been very good at predicting people's behavior."

Your breath hitched. He was so close, yet you still felt some kind of invisible barrier between yourself and him. You imagined his wife, disappointed to know that the two of you were dancing like this– so close, so casually intimate.

"She would want me to live a happy life without her," he said, as if he'd read your thoughts somehow. Startled, you looked straight into his eyes and knew that this was your moment.

Your body seemed to move of its own accord and before you knew it, your lips met the plush softness of his. Eyes closed, you breathed him in, the heady taste of wine a subtle backdrop to the taste of his kiss. Dancing all but forgotten, you opened your mouth to deepen the contact, tongue touching just beyond his teeth until he made a low, soft moan and pulled back suddenly, drawing in a deep breath.

"I– "

"I'm sorry, I–" you began, only to be cut off by a firm press of his mouth against yours again. This kiss was a little more hungry, a little more insistent. You threaded your fingers through his hair and held him a little closer. The music seemed to stop, the world around you stilled, and you lost yourself in him.

You couldn’t remember the last time your ex-husband kissed you with so much reverence and care. In fact, you couldn’t recall a time he had kissed you, period. Nanami’s lips seemed custom made for slotting over your own mouth, however, and the longer you kissed him, the more you realized that you’d been starved of affection for so long it had begun to harden your heart. Somewhere deep inside, that shell began to crack, and when his lips fell down along the line of your jaw, you positively melted against him, mouth open in a breathless expression of pure pleasure– something you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in months.

He walked you home under the pale moonlight, stars blinking overhead to further light your way. You’d swear you could hear the whispers of some of the women in town, but you paid them no mind. Tonight would be all about you and Nanami sharing yourselves with one another in the way you craved– the way you needed him and he needed you.

In the soft light of his bedroom he kissed and kissed you as if he couldn’t possibly get enough. He didn’t attempt to take off your clothes, nor did you try to undress him. The contact was enough, though you could feel the heat from his body radiating against yours, the energy of a man who had been two years without the touch of a woman. He took his time, though you could sense that he wanted more, so you took one of his hands and pressed it tentatively against your breast, looking him deep in the eye as you did.

Nanami broke the kiss, watching you intently as he pressed tentative fingertips into the soft flesh beneath your dress, a long exhale issuing from his kiss-swollen mouth. “It’s– I…” He found your nipple, taut and firm, and rolled it between his thumb and finger before pressing a reverent kiss to the skin just above your cleavage. You pressed a kiss to the top of his head and held him there, encouraging him to explore further.

Perhaps it was the wine. Perhaps it was the festive atmosphere you’d just spent endless hours enjoying. Perhaps it was a pure, unadulterated need that you felt for one another, but you knew then that he wanted you as much as you wanted him. You didn’t want to push, though. Not in the least. You wanted him to explore at his own pace, to find his way around your body and map it out, inch by beautiful inch.

“It’s been so long,” he whispered, pushing one of the delicate straps of your dress down off your shoulder to drop a kiss against the now exposed skin. You closed your eyes and breathed deep, already blissfully aroused, careful not to move too fast lest he decide this wasn’t a good idea.

“Take your time. There’s no rush.” Your voice was calm and reassuring as you felt his mouth pull in the skin just above your nipple, sucking a tiny mark before he pulled away again, stormy eyes drinking in your features, your reaction, your flushed face and glistening eyes.

Nanami backed you up to the bed, and when the back of your knees hit the blankets, you sat down, lifting your arms around his neck to pull him down into another kiss. He shifted his weight over you and lowered himself, lips trailing down across your jaw, down to your neck, tongue laving across your collarbone as he pulled down the other strap of your dress. Somehow, you worked your hands between you to begin undoing the buttons of his shirt, one by one. He allowed it, and you heard his heart begin to pick up its already frantic rhythm as you lifted your hips to graze his, desperate for friction between your legs.

He pulled away fast, panting, standing at the edge of the bed with a hand carded through his hair and his eyes wild. You sat up just as quickly, a little dizzy from the rush, and reached out a hand, your own eyes filled with concern. “Did I do something wrong?”

Nanami shook his head, a nervous laugh escaping his already open mouth. He took a few deep breaths and a step backwards, his legs visibly trembling. "No, you did everything right. I just– I need a moment. I'm sorry."

You didn't understand why he felt the need to apologize, and you told him so. "You’re fine. It’s fine. We don’t have to do this,” you cooed, crossing your legs under you and fixing your hair a little.

His eyes welled with tears and he looked away from you, his face flushing bright red as he inhaled sharply, pressing a tight fist to his mouth to quell his sadness. Before he spoke again, he seemed to center himself, then sat down beside you, resting his hand on your knee. “I haven’t been with a woman since my wife and daughter have been gone, and I don’t– I don’t think I should. I carry around far too much baggage to ask anyone else to help me shoulder it. And if we were to be intimate, I…well I know it sounds strange, but I’d feel as if I was betraying her somehow.” Nanami sighed heavily afterward, unable to meet your tender gaze.

“You said before that you think she’d want you to live a happy, fulfilling life. I’m not asking you to do this– we don’t have to do anything besides sit here and talk, but…consider that happiness might mean moving on with someone else, eventually. Doesn’t even have to be me–”

“But I want it to be you,” he blurted, startling both of you. He lowered his voice and took your chin between his thumb and forefinger and repeated it, softer this time, more intentional. “I want it to be you.”

The rest of the night, you held him in your arms while he told you the story of his wife– the love of his life– their daughter, their picture perfect life together before tragedy struck and took them away from him. You learned that he was out of town the day they were killed and harbored so much guilt and still hadn’t forgiven himself from being away on business. It took him two days to get back to them– between delayed flights and traffic patterns, he slept little and grieved painfully, thoughts of what he would possibly do without them pervading his mind. He told you that his wife had just been promoted in her line of work and his daughter was about to enter the third grade, that she was the brightest student in her class and had a talent for dancing and eating ice cream.

Nanami talked himself to sleep on your shoulder as the sun rose, his voice raspy and thick with exhaustion and raw emotion. He kissed you just before he succumbed to his dreams, appearing more content than you’d seen him in the short weeks you’d known him. You slept with him, in his bed, your own mind laden with the story of his lost love and with the hope that he could find it again.

You slept well past noon the next day, waking to the sound of sizzling bacon and the smell of a strong brewed coffee. At first you were a little disoriented, waking up in a bed that wasn’t your own, but you soon realized as you looked down at your disheveled dress that last night, you’d slept next to Nanami. The thought alone made your head spin, and you sat up slowly, stretching on your way down the hall into the kitchen to find him at the stove with a pair of tongs in his hand, humming along to a song on the radio.

A far cry from the vulnerable man you cradled in your arms last night, he turned to you with a soft, sleepy smile, the bags under his eyes looking a little less burdensome than before. He offered a quiet Good morning and handed you a cup of coffee, which you graciously accepted before sliding into a seat at his little table.

“I need to thank you,” he said, cracking an egg into the same pan where the bacon was frying.

You sipped your coffee, then tilted your head. “Thank me? For what?”

“For listening to me. For allowing me to release all that I’ve been holding in. I…I’ve never confided all of that in anyone before, and I have to admit– it feels good. So thank you." He sat down in the seat across from you and offered you a plate, which you graciously accepted. "I did want to ask you, though, how long you're going to be here. In town, I mean. I assume you have to leave at some point."

You nodded while chewing a bite, then swallowed, following it with a sip of coffee. "Three more weeks," you said. I have to go back and reset my classroom. What about you? Is this a permanent home for you, or is there somewhere else?"

Nanami shook his head. "Nowhere else. This is home. It has been since the accident. We used to vacation here as a family, and I can't bring myself to return to the house in the city." He paused to sip his coffee. "I sold it last year, actually. It wasn't home to me any longer."

Over breakfast, you made plans. Tentative plans at best, but plans to reunite in the summers– if not for anything romantic, at least to spend some time together near the water and nurture the friendship you’d built. You helped him clean up, then lingered in the doorway, caught between wanting to stay longer and wanting to go home and change your clothes and freshen up after last night’s activities.

But you found yourself reluctant to leave. Nanami knew it and reached for your hand, thumb running over your knuckles. “You can stay, if that’s what you’re thinking. I have a shower too, you know.”

The next few moments were a blur of lips, fingers, tongue and flesh. He pulled you into his arms and kissed you deeply, lifting you off the floor so that you could wrap your legs around his waist and hang on. He carried you to his bedroom where he took his time taking you apart, memorizing you inch by inch, just like he had started to do last night.

“I don’t” – he began, hooking his fingers under the elastic of your panties to peel them down and away from your body– “want you to think that I’m doing this out of some desire to forget.” He looked deep into your eyes while nimble fingers spread your thighs apart. You opened them willingly, reveling in the feel of his flesh on yours in such an intimate area.

“I know you aren’t.” And you did. Though much of your conversation had been about his past, you knew two things: one, he’d been needing to confide in someone for a long, long time; two, he desired you. You knew he did by the way he looked at you, the way he held your hand, the way his kisses felt like summer rain and his fingers between your legs felt like they belonged there.

“Good. I like you. I like you a lot,” he implored, lowering himself so that you felt his warm breath on the meat of your inner thigh just before his tongue licked a broad stripe right up your slit, making you arch your back clean off the bed and grip his hair in frantic fists. You closed your eyes as he explored you, his nose nudging the curls at the top of your slit, fingers delving just inside to provide extra stimulation in addition to his tongue.

You cried out his name as he took care of you, pulling him by the hair to hear him chuckle at your enthusiasm. With gentle suction, he pulled your clit between his lips and flicked his tongue over the sensitive bud, causing you to twitch and beg for mercy, please God please oh don’t stop don’t stop. At your command, he hooked his hands over the top of your thighs and dove in for the kill, licking at you like a man deprived of his favorite meal for far too long. Your climax hit you hard and fast, and it took you several minutes to recover, breathing deep, a sheen of sweat across your brow and chest.

Nanami gave you a few moments to breathe before he climbed over top of you, his cock pressing insistently on the inside of your wet thigh. You opened yourself to him willingly, without protest, and he slipped inside with a long, low moan, pushing his face into the space between your neck and shoulder.

No one had ever touched you the way he did. He cradled your head in his hands as he thrust in and out with slow, controlled motions, his girth stretching you in a most delicious way that had your eyes rolling back in your head and your jaw permanently slack. He pressed kisses along your neck and chest, his breath hot and steady, face never more than a few inches from yours. When he feared he might come too soon, he lifted you into his lap and had you straddle him; down onto his length you sank again, arms linked around his shoulders, each breath a low, wanton moan as you felt his long strokes inside you, filling you to the hilt with his impressive size.

He was quiet for the most part– a grunt here, a low rumble there, but he didn't speak. He was focused on your pleasure and his own, wanting to prolong it as much as possible until he couldn't hold back anymore.

The buildup was almost too much for you to bear, and when you felt him begin to twitch and pulse inside you, you came again, this time a more profound sense of euphoria making your head spin and your body tense until you scaled that peak. "I've got you," he whispered upon your ear, one hand at the back of your head and the other grabbing a handful of your ass, pushing you against him with incredible strength despite his own loss of muscle control.

The room was filled with the lewd sounds of wet flesh, of the evidence of your lovemaking between your legs and his, of breath and hushed voices and tender kisses. He took his time riding out your orgasm, in no hurry to take himself out of you. Nanami gently guided you back onto the now missed blankets of the bed and rolled you both on your side, facing each other so that he could look into your eyes and find your reaction, your look of blissed-out euphoria. No longer did he carry the guilt of moving on, of taking another woman into his bed. You made him feel comfortable and secure, and he wasn't sure words could convey his gratitude.

You spent the afternoon dozing, eating, drinking wine and toeing along the sand, totally immersed in his company. The last few weeks of your visit were spent in his company as well, the days just as magical as the nights.

And when it came time for you to return home, he took you to dinner, a hopeful look in his eyes as you discussed the possibility of returning each summer. You knew that the chances were slim– you explained that the house where you had stayed wasn't yours to rent, that your best friend had arranged the whole thing.

He reached across the table and covered your hand with his. "Come and stay with me." Ah, his way of presenting ideas was direct and to the point. It was something you'd come to admire about him– how no nonsense he was when it had to do with something he cared deeply about.

Your expression softened when you considered the possibility. You hadn't been hopeful of a love connection when you took this trip, and you had to be honest with him– you still weren't sure you were ready for another full-fledged commitment just yet. The wound of your divorce was still fresh, still painful, and you wanted to spend some more time getting to know the woman you were without your ex-husband, without the baggage you'd carried around for so long.

And when you divulged this to him, he drew back his hand, taking a long drink from his glass. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do." He threw your own words right back at you, and you had to smile. "I enjoy your company regardless."

Your daughter was overjoyed the day you pulled into her father's driveway. She came skipping out of his house and you caught her in your arms, spinning her around in a tight, tearful hug. Your ex husband stared at you and smiled softly in a way that told you he saw a difference in your demeanor.

"Restful vacation?" he asked, his jealousy barely masked.

"Oh, you have no idea."

#nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader #nanami x you

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thewritersaddictions · 2 months

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If The Walls Could Talk Chapter 1: We Are All Adults Here

Pairing: DBF!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Pov: Reader

Summary: When your parents leave for their annual summer vacation, they ask your long-time neighbor to come by and check on you.

Warnings: Smut, Age Gap (20/50), a little bit of corrosion, sexual tension, Bj's, PinV, Unprotected sex, Smut with no plot, shower/tub smut.

A/n- @ Firefly-graphics for dividers.

WC- 3.2

If The Walls Could Talk Series // The Last Of Us Master List

With another semester of college under my belt, it’s time to come home for the summer. The group chat with my parents tells me that even years later, they still leave the house for a few weeks during the summer for a vacation. They’re going on a cruise this year and will be gone for nearly a month.

I’ve lived next to a man and his daughter for years—a sweet kid a little younger than me. Hours were spent playing with her when we were both young, and when I started high school, I began babysitting her, and nothing changed. I was always in his house, and the fact that we were constantly bumping into each other had my crush flying through the sky.

I had a crush that suddenly disappeared when I was up and moved away to college, but every summer, my crush came back with a vengeance—a spiteful vengeance. The older I got, the more I looked at Sarah’s dad in a new and different light.

Now I’m driving back home to an empty house and a house right next door with my much older crush. Let’s also add that Joel is also my dad’s best friend. He has been his best friend since Joel moved in with his baby daughter almost twenty years ago. The lights on the house are off, and my garage door opens with one button press.

The first day back from college was always just about laundry and eating a typical meal for the first time since I had been home for the brief spring break before exams. I can see that Joel is home; his truck is in the driveway, and the kitchen light is on. I text my parents while I wait for my food to reheat in the microwave.

Made it home, eating leftovers.

Aww I’m glad you are home sweetie. Don’t forget that if you need anything Joel is right across the street.

And his daughter is at camp this summer so he’ll be there anytime you need him.

You can’t just volunteer Joel like that.

I’ll make sure to remember that Mom.

I swipe out of the chat a little faster than normal. My attention drifts over to the lit-up kitchen window and I think about whatever Joel might be doing… since Sarah is away at summer camp. The beeping of the microwave pulls my attention away, and the room smells of leftovers. That night I watched a random movie marathon in a bed I’ve had since middle school, and fell asleep with a half eaten plate of food on my nightstand.

A week later theres a knock on the fence to my backyard. My eyes are closed behind my sunglasses. It’s only when the hot rays of sun fade and turn cold do I open my eyes and shift my eyes down the brim of my nose. It’s Joel. Standing there in all his glory. A hawaiian shirt covers his tan skin, and shorts give very little to the imagination.

I had a crush that suddenly disappeared when I was up and moved away to college, but every summer, my crush came back with a spiteful vengeance. The older I got, the more I looked at Sarah’s dad in a new and different light.

Now I’m driving home to an empty house and a house right next door with my much older crush. Let’s also add that Joel is also my dad’s best friend. He has been his best friend since Joel moved in with his baby daughter almost twenty years ago. The lights on the house are off, and my garage door opens with one button press.

I made it home, eating leftovers.

Aww, I’m glad you’re home, sweetie. Don’t forget that Joel is right across the street if you need anything.

His daughter is at camp this summer, so he’ll be there anytime you need him.

You can’t just volunteer Joel like that.

I’ll make sure to remember that, Mom.

I swipe out of the chat a little faster than normal. My attention drifts over to the lit-up kitchen window, and I think about whatever Joel might be doing… since Sarah is away at summer camp. The beeping of the microwave pulls my attention away, and the room smells of leftovers. That night, I watched a random movie marathon in a bed I’ve had since middle school and fell asleep with a half-eaten plate of food on my nightstand.

A week later, a knock was on the fence in my backyard. My eyes are closed behind my sunglasses. It’s only when the hot rays of the sun fade and turn cold that I open my eyes and shift my eyes down the brim of my nose. It’s Joel. Standing there in all his glory. A Hawaiian shirt covers his tan skin, and his shorts give little to the imagination.

“Your dad told me you were home.” He says plainly. I nod and keep my eyes on him. “You haven’t left the house in over a week, so I came to check on you,” Joel says as he shifts from in front to the side of me, sitting on another pool chair. “I haven’t needed to. You know mom always makes way too much food during the summer.” This is the second summer I’ve come back home, and my parents have been out on a cruise or flying to some destination they picked out the minute they got back the previous summer. “I know she’s always trying to pawn it off to the other neighbors,” Joel says, looking at you and then the water.

There’s a long pause between us; the tension grows, and before it can well into something, I cut Joel right off at the knees. “Well, I’m sure you’ve got other things to do today.” I say, then add, “instead of checking up on me.” There’s a shift in Joel’s face, but he quickly hides it behind a bright smile. “I do have some yard work I’ve gotta get done.” He says, getting up from the pool chair and pushing with the palms of his hands.

I watch him walk away. Open and close the fence gate. I stare for a long while. Wondering where the hell these random, hot flashes of feeling came from. The bottom of my stomach burns with a passion that I don’t even feel when I go out with guys from my college. I lick my lips, bring my sunglasses back up the ridge of my nose, and close my eyes. By the time I get back inside, the summer day’s heat has disappeared, and my skin is tanned.

Joel seems to know every time I’m outside. He knocks on the gate and lets himself in. This time I’m swimming in the pool. The heat has suffocated me in a way I’m not used to, “Do you go anywhere else?” Joel asks. I lift my head from the pool surface and look at him. This time, he’s wearing just a pair of shorts. Swim trunks, “It’s not like I have many places to go.” I say plainly before dropping my head onto the pool water’s surface. I feel the ripples of the water as Joel moves in.

He starts at the steps and makes his way over to me. Long swimming strides, and in a matter of seconds, he’s by my side. Once again, I was standing in the sunlight. I peep my eyes open again. “Do I have something on my face?” I ask him. His brown eyes bore holes into me in a way that made me feel like the only other person on earth but also uncomfortable. “I just hadn’t realized how much you’d grown up.” That is all Joel says before he too, lays on his back. I’m stuck wondering what that means. I had always seen Joel for precisely what he was.

“What does that mean?” I finally ask after a little silence. Joel seems to be forming his words, “It just means that are have become a beautiful woman in the passing years.” My courage starts to grow. “Does that mean you’ve been watching me?” I say, looking over at him. I can see him visibly swallow has if I’ve caught him in a tongue twister. “I… You…” He rolls his lips together, I move in the water. I want to see his face. “I’m what Joel?” My bathsuit hugs me tightly due to the water. “You’re just…” “I’m just what Joel?” I ask brushing my hand up from his belly to his chest. His skin lights up with goosebumps in the hot weather.

“I’m far to old for you.” He says as if he’s trying to stop himself from making a horrible choice. As if saying he’s older then me is going to stop the way my nails are dragging down the center of his body. Inching closer to the tie of his swim trunks.

The way my name falls from his lips, like he’s barely holding back his wants and needs. “Y/n, please I’m just as old as your father.” I roll my eyes. “Can you not bring him up when all I wanna do is make you feel good.” I mutter softly. Joel lets go of my hands and groans when I grab at his erection from the swim trunks. It’s just a wet piece of fabric between my hand and his cock.

“Fuck,” Joel mutters out in a low groan. But before the moment goes any further I move my hand and float towards the pool stairs. Joel is up and moving towards me before I even manager to get the towel around my body. “What in the hell was that?” He tries not to shout. “That’s called payback for the past fifteen years of my life, now if you don’t mind I’m gonna go take a bath,” I say before slipping into my flip-flops and walking into the cool air of the house. I leave the sliding glass door open.

An open invitation to follow me.

An open invitation to which he follows like a lost puppy dog following its owner. I don’t hear Joel get out of the water immediately as if he’s waiting for my father (his best friend) to come rounding the corner; all I know is that by the time I’ve settled into the hot water of the bathtub with bubbles on the rim of the tub. Joel is marching up the stairs and not even knocking on the bathroom door.

He just lets himself in. He is standing with a towel wrapped around his waist and water pooling around his feet. “You’re making a mess, ya know,” I say, not even bothering to look up at him. I had set up most of what I would use before my dip in the pool, my eyes gazing over the words in my romance novel.

“You’re a fuckin’ tease, you know that.” He says with a grunt. I say anything, flipping the page of my book over. The book goes from my hand to the sink, forcing me to look up at him. “You are a wrong choice waiting to happen,” Joel says with my chin in his hand. Holding me to look up at him, “But I’m not inclined to make the right choices right now.” He says before finally leaning down to press his lips into mine.

The kiss sweeps me off my feet metaphorically. His lips are rough and dry from the summer heat and sun, but the way he uses his mouth is heaven-sent. Passing over my lips with his tongue, his hand still holds my chin securely, giving Joel all the power he needs in this situation. His other drifts down your chest, and into the water. The bubbles surround his hand as his fingers graze over the tops of my breasts. Gentle has they grope and tease my nipple. The kiss is breathtaking, leaving me gasping for air when Joel finally does pull away.

When he pulls away there’s no giving away the rather large tent that has made it’s way through the soaked swim trunks and is now protruding through the pool towel. He follows my gaze, and looks down, “You want something?” He asks looking down at me, I nod. “Then undress me sweetheart.” The nickname makes my heart skip a beat, and my hands are reaching out for the towel, ripping it off and through it to the floor. His swim trunks go next and in one easy slip down his toned legs he’s free and completely naked in front of me. For being half my age older the man is built, muscles and tan lines that show the amount of work he’s put into his life already.

“You gonna keep staring at it with your mouth open? Or are you gonna use that pretty little mouth of yours up to some good use?” He says standing there in all his glory. I slip over the edge of the tub, half my body still sits in the water. My knees hitting the edge of the inner tub, nipples taught at the coolness of the surrounding air as I grab a hold of Joel cock. I had dreams about this, dreams of sucking him off, dreams of holding him in my hands, dreams of the way he’d taste, of the way he’d sound. Nothing is better then the real thing though. The weight of his cock on my hand is different then I’ve ever felt. A strong hand combs through my wet pool hair. “Come on darlin’ don’t keep me waiting.” He says gently.

I nod because there aren’t words to describe the feelings that are currently wrapping their way around my lungs. I lean forward and press my lips to the head of his cock. I look up at Joel through my lashes before sucking just the head of his cock into my mouth. A slight groan falls from his lips, and it eggs me on further. I take each inch of him with a slow pace, giving myself time to let him fill my throat. I’m not even must more librality because before i know it, th hand that was gently combing through my hair is pushing me further down his cock. My nose buried in his nicely trimed pubic hair. I gag around the tight feeling of his cock in the back of my throat, holding his thighs tightly in both my hands.

Joel hands holds my hair tightly. The once gentle hand is curled around my hair and using a force I’ve only ever seen him use when he’s lifting things from his truck. Using my throat in order to get exactly what he desires. His grunts and groans are the only things I hear, music to my ears. It’s the little tiny whimper of my name that has me knowing that Joel is close. His cock twitches in the back of my throat and my eyes water at the fullness he has me feeling.

—

The water sloshes in the tub, as Joel moves us both into the tub. His back pressed against the cold porcelain. The law tub large enough to hold the both us. He doesn’t have me facing him at first. My back pressed against his chest, with his already stiff cock pressed between my wet thighs. Wet due to water, and due to the fucking my throat as just recieved. Joel plams my breasts. Teasing the stiff nipples between his fore fingers and thumbs. Rolling then and pinching at the same, it has me rockingand sqeuzzing his cock between the plusness of my thighs.

His lips connect to the side of my neck pressing soft and rough kisses into the skin. Leaving some patches with hickies. “Such a pretty women sitting on my lap.” He mutters against my skin, I let my head fall back over his shoulder and his lips find my chin. “Letting me do whatever i want to her, in her parents house.” His reminder that we are in fact in my parents house has me wetter then I’d like him to know, but my thighs sadly betray me. “Oh she’s a kinky little one isn’t she?” He says, “Spread your legs sweetheart.” He commands and follow with ease, watching as water flows over the edge a little. Suds hitting the floor, with my legs wide open one hands drops my breast and falls down the center of my stoamch and then to the center of my pussy. “Oh she loves the idea of my fuckin’ her right here in this bathtub, she loves the idea of my fuckin’ her in her parents house, what they don’t know don’t hurt ‘em.” He says as he slips two fingers in. Moans bounce of the tiled walls of the bathroom, his one finger are larger then my two fingers put together, so I can only image the way he’ll push my walls open to make room for his cock. He drops his other hands decidind it’s better to play with my pussy then my breast. With one hand pumping in and out of my pussy the other one starts with slow circles around my clit.

“You’re so wet Y/n, hmm how long have you been thinkin’ about me fuckin’ you?” He asks, his breath steady in comparison to mine, I can barely keep up, i roll my lips together before opening my mouth but all that falls out is moans of satisfation. “Answer me darlin’ or I won’t let you cum.” His words get my attention, and for a second I have to think. “Since I was in highschool.” I manage to get out. “Hmm such a dirty fuckin’ slut thinking about her dads best friend fuckin’ her.” his words have me squeezing his fingers in my pussy. “It’s okay baby, I’ve been thinkin’ about doing this since two summers ago.” His confession sends me over the edge. Into a white hot ecstasy. Joels fingers slide out with ease, and his other rest gives my sensitive clit a rest. Kissing my shoudler and back gentle as I come down from my high.

When I regain a portion of my brain I don’t give him much time to ask me many questions. I grab his cock and postion myself. Letting the head of his cock notch at my entrance. “Oh fuck sweetheart” Joel groans out his grip on my hips grows tight. “Wait.” He says, but I don’t listen, I’m absolutely consumed by the feeling of his cock around my pussy. I feel full and content with his cock complelty in my pussy. “Damn it Y/n, I said wait.” He shouts, “What? You don’t wanna be deep inside me anymore?” I tease. I can hear Joel gridding his molars together. “No I just wanted to make ure that you were on birth control you brat.” oh I bite my lip and nod my head. “Words darlin’ words.” “Yes, so you can cum as deep as you want Joel.” Theres an undeinable smile on his face, as he sets an unforgiving pace.

Water pools around the clawfoot tub as Joel pushes me forward. My hands gripping the tub as the sound of skin slapping bounces off the walls around us. The blinds opne but the summer streets empty. “Joel anybody would see us!” I moan as he wraps a large around the back of my neck forcing my to look towards the window. “Oh darlin’ I’m kinda hoping gets to see the sort of show you put on. Your ass so high up in the air, tits boucing and making mess around my cock. I bet I can make you cum again just like this.” His pace somehow gets faster and harder.

“Yeah, I can feel you squeezin’ my cock.” Joel mutters, “Wait I wanna…” My words die in my thaort as his other hand comes down between my legs and plays with my clit. A few circles and a few pinches “Wiat Joel please…” “Hmm what do you want now princess?” He asks through his own grunts of passion. “I wanna cum with you, please Joel cum inside me with me??!” I beg him, “Alright… alright princess, you can cum with me but you better be ready when I am.” He says, “I will be I will be Joel just pelase make me cum daddy.” Something in Joel must break, or maybe it was already broken because the pace he sets now is body breaking. My knuckles are white, and my mouth is just hanging open. “Come on princess squeeze my cock like a good little girl, and then I’ll give it you. Pump you full with my seed.” His words push me over the edge and with that my second orgasm rolls over my shoudlers. Joel pumps a few more times deep inside before he slips out and falls gracefully to the tubs floor.

We sit in silence for a moment. Joels words are the first thing that hit the sex smelling air. “This by the way sweertheart. Is NOT a one time deal.” he says grabbing my hips and pulling back down into his hold. We sit until the water goes cold, and or skin is wrinkly. “I’ll clean up after we get you somethin’ to eat missy.” He says wrapping the towels around my tired frame. I only nod unwilling to disturbe the peace of the moment.

Completed on: 04/10/24

Posted on: 04/13/24

Joel Miller-

29 notes · View notes

arielhopepeace · 1 year

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Hiii. This is my first time posting on here but this is gonna be a Joel Miller and y/n story. I do have a Javier Peña story too, so lmk if you want me to post that!!

Please 18+ and I’ll add the appropriate tags for future uploads but this one is just part one for now! Only fluff (for now).

Part two is here

Part three is here

Part four is here

Part five is here

Part six is here

Part seven is here

Final part is here

6,000+ words

PART ONE

There’s a sense of calm in the stifling Texas air today. All of the kids are off of school for the summer, and people are enjoying the crisp sun rays on their dewy, hot skin. You notice that the excitement for the state fair is palpable, easily picking up on the feeling from the young teens who pass you by on the sidewalk.

It wasn’t too long ago that you yourself were in high school, ecstatic for summer vacation, and a well-earned break from the misery of the education system. School was never for you. It wasn’t that you were inept or lazy, but that the other students were insufferable. It was hell going through school, and it was all because of who your dad is.

Not only is your dad the mayor of Austin, Texas, but he’s also one of the wealthiest people in the state. Your parents always wanted you to go to public school so that you could have a normal education and have a ton of friends, but the second everyone made the connection with your last name, you were doomed.

Luckily, they never forced you to go to college. You were able to secure your spot as your dad’s secretary, and making decent money doing it, too. Truthfully, it frustrates you to be in such close proximity with him all day. It’s not that you don’t love your dad, you do. You just wish you had an actual relationship with him.

The two of you never did normal father-daughter stuff, or even spent much time together growing up. It was always helping him prep for a campaign, or him just talking about his job. It’s always seemed like he cares way more about his job than you, and your relationship suffered because of it.

You’ve never brought this to your dad’s attention, and part of the reason is because you’re scared he won’t even care if he knew. You’re just happy to have a relationship with your mom. She’s like your best friend. And since you didn’t have many growing up, it was nice to be close to her.

As you’re leaving the office to head to your car that is parked a bit out of the way, you notice a few ambulances passing by, the blaring sirens and blinding red lights startling you to the point where you hop back off of the sidewalk. The trucks are nowhere near you, but the sudden burst of noise gave you an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You can’t help but watch them as they travel to their destination, praying that they’re not turning towards anybody that you know or love. It alleviates some anxiety as you watch them continue down the long road, knowing that the few people you do care about, live closer than to where they’re going.

You’ve just recently moved out of your parent’s house into your own, and it’s been freeing, yet terrifying. The stillness of the house at night, along with the random creaks and pops that you haven’t familiarized yourself with, leave you so uneasy, that it’s hard to sleep sometimes.

It’s only been a week at this new house, and while it’s beautiful and lovely, it feels painfully empty. You haven’t gotten around to going to a local shelter to adopt a cat or dog, simply due to the fact that you work five days a week from nine to five. An animal deserves to have someone around more often than that, in your opinion, and you don’t want them to go from being at a shelter and alone, to being in your home, alone.

There is a perk to this new house, though, and while you know it’s demented of you, you can’t help but feel giddy every time you see the black pickup truck in the driveway next to yours. Next door to you is your dad’s best friend, Joel Miller, and his daughter, Sarah. It was completely coincidental that this was the house that was the most fit for you, and just so happened to have your childhood crush living next door.

You know it’s wrong of you to have a thing for your dad’s best friend who is at least fifteen years older than you, but you know it’ll never amount to anything. He’s a kind man who loves his daughter more than anything in the world, and the fact that he’s extremely hot is just an added bonus.

He has a luscious head of black hair that is just starting to show a few sprinklings of gray in it. His body is fit, yet still thick and not at all lean. It’s his naturally tanned skin that always gets you, and the fact that it looks like the sun personally kissed him when he was born. Tie that all together with a handsome hooked nose, reminding you of a Greek god statue every time you see him. And that nose rests above an always groomed mustache and beard that has its own dash of subtle gray hairs in them.

If you were older and a different person entirely, you wouldn’t hesitate to go after this man. He’s been single for god knows how long, and you haven’t seen him with a woman since his wife died just after Sarah was born, when you were twelve.

Sarah herself is now twelve, going on thirteen in a few months. It’s strange how long ago being thirteen seems to you, but also how it’s like it was yesterday. In truth, you don’t miss your teen years in the slightest. All the awkward growth, hormones, and the question of sexuality was just plain stressful. But now it’s eleven years later, you’re twenty-four, and you’re living in your own house, with your own car, and pretty content with your life for the most part.

Pulling in to the driveway at home, you see Joel outside washing his truck. White streaks of soap cover the vehicle and your eyes are on Joel’s dampened gray shirt and dark blue jeans that he’s wearing beautifully on his perfect body.

It’s ridiculous how hard-up this man has you. He has no idea the sinful ideas you have in your filthy mind about him, or the fact that he could snap his fingers and you’d do whatever he commanded. You’re practically panting as you watch him stretch over the hood of his truck, the gray fabric of his shirt riding up, allowing you a glimpse at his side.

You shake your head, feeling like a creep just watching him do a completely innocent task. You step out of the car, the smell of soap instantly filling your nose as you walk up to your front door.

Joel takes notice of you and waves, putting his massive sponge down on the hood as he walks over.

You’re instantly nervous, feeling your blood pumping faster in time with his steps toward you.

“Hey,” you say smoothly, not at all sounding as nervous as you feel.

“Hi,” he grins, flashing that goddamn adorable smile that melts you every time. “I actually wanted to ask you about that barbecue your dad is having next week. Your dad said to be there at five, and I know how anal he is about that shit, but I have to bring Sarah to a friend’s house that night. Would he care if I was late? I’ve tried calling, but he hasn’t answered, as usual.”

“Oh,” you scoff, “yeah he never answers. I doubt he’d care, but I could always take Sarah if you wanted me to. I didn’t plan on going to the barbecue anyway.”

His straight black brows push together. “Why?”

Laughing a bit sheepishly, you briefly look down to your feet. “I’m just not feeling it. Those events are never fun for me. I’m always just sitting by myself in the corner while my parents schmooze with the town.” You frown, “And now my only buddy Sarah won’t even be there, so I’m definitely not going. She’s the only one who talks to me, when she goes.”

Joel chuckles, bringing a hand to your shoulder. His touch electrifies you. “Come on, I’ll talk to you. It’ll be weird if the mayor’s daughter isn’t there, right?”

You shrug. “I’d rather stay in bed, eat snacks, and watch a scary movie by myself.”

“Well, hey, if you still end up going after you take Sarah for me, I’ll be happy to see you.”

It warms your heart to hear him say that, and you can’t help the heat that’s made its way to your cheeks. “Thanks.”

“And thank you for taking her. It means a lot.”

“Of course. I love her. She’s the best.”

Joel looks back to his house, smiling fondly. “She is.”

You put your key into the lock, turning it before stepping in. “Just text me next week about what time and where the house is, okay?”

He nods. “Thank you again, y/n. You’re amazing.”

Smiling, you step inside, reluctantly closing the door on the face of the sexiest DILF you’ve had ever had the pleasure of knowing. There’s always that thrill when he’s near you, like you’re in high school again talking to your crush against the lockers while you do your best to be as feminine and alluring as possible.

Your phone buzzes from your purse and you pull it out, smiling when you see a text from Joel.

Joel

5:45pm

Taking Sarah to the fair tonight. Would you like to join us?

You’re not sure why, but your heart skips a beat at him asking you. Obviously it’s not a date, and he’s only asking because you’ll be home alone otherwise. But you know that you’d be an idiot to say no at an opportunity to spend time with him.

5:46pm

Sure. What time?

Joel

5:47pm

Gonna finish up dinner then be on our way. Probably 7.

5:48pm

Okay, I’ll see you there.

Joel

5:49pm

Would you like to just ride with me? You know, save the environment from carbon emissions and whatnot.

You audibly giggle.

5:50pm

Lol, sure. I’ll be ready.

You practically twirl around your living room like you’re the main character in a rom-com. There’s even a slight squeal that passes your eager lips at the scenarios running through your mind. Wouldn’t it be lovely to go on the Farris wheel with Joel; to be so close that your legs are pressed together? Maybe he’ll lean in and kiss you, and fireworks will pop above your heads, adding to the romance of the moment.

There’s nothing you wouldn’t give to have Joel return the feelings you’ve had for him since you were going through puberty, but you know that he’s not interested in someone so young. And the fact that his best friend is your dad would also definitely play a part in his lack of interest. He’s a powerful man, and there’s no doubt he’d be furious if anything were to ever happen.

Shaking your head, you push all of the mushy thoughts away, knowing that all they are are silly fantasies that can never be fulfilled no matter how hard you try to manifest them to reality.

It’s nearing seven o’clock, and you’ve fitted yourself into blue jeans, your black Keds, and a t-shirt with your favorite singer on the front. You obviously want to feel pretty around Joel, so you reapplied the makeup that was already on your face for work, touching it up and making it look cleaner. Your hair hangs loosely, even adding the extra effort to straighten it. You know it’ll frizz up because of the heat, but as long as it’s silky for a little bit, that’s all that matters.

Your stomach growls loudly. Because you were so focused on getting ready to see Joel, you didn’t leave yourself enough time to eat dinner. Of course you could always eat something at the fair, but deciding on what is the biggest issue. There’s always so many delicious choices, and you’re not sure which you’ll land on.

There’s a knock on your front door and you swing it open, seeing Joel in his same jeans as before, but with a different shirt on than the one he was cleaning his truck in. This one is nicer. It’s a red plaid shirt that has the sleeves rolled up above the elbows, and you can’t help but notice the fresh smell of his cologne.

“Hey,” you finally say with a smile. “Let me just grab my purse.”

You stretch behind the door to the coat rack where your tan purse hangs by its long strap. You toss it over your shoulder, turning and locking the front door behind you.

“I’m glad you decided to come with. Sarah is supposed to meet some friends there, so I’d just be the stray dad holding all the tickets and prizes,” Joel smiles down at you.

You can’t help but giggle beneath his intense brown-eyed gaze. “I’m glad you invited me. Would’ve been alone all night.”

He nods. “I know. Figured we could both use the company.”

Joel opens your door for you, and your inner imaginary version of you is doing cartwheels, confirming to herself that this is in fact a date. You brush her off, knowing she’s still over-thinking everything.

“Hi, y/n!” Sarah squeaks excitedly from the back seat. “I’m so glad you came.”

You turn, meeting the soft, wide hazel eyes of Joel’s beautiful daughter. “Me, too! I was telling your dad how bummed I am you won’t be my barbecue buddy next week.”

She giggles, flipping her curly hair behind her shoulder. “I’m sorry! My best friend is having a big sleepover and I didn’t wanna miss it.”

“Aw, no, I don’t want you missing out on that to hang out with me at some lame barbecue! That sounds like a blast.”

“I’m so excited,” she beams. “The first sleepover of the summer.”

Joel gets in with a slight grunt, looking to Sarah in the rear view mirror. “And I know not the last.”

“Nope.”

Joel and I both chuckle, the truck pulling away from my driveway as we head through the crowded streets towards the fair.

To no surprise, the place is jam packed with people of all ages, making it nearly impossible to find a parking spot. Joel manages to find one across the street at a baseball stadium, where a lot of other people are parked for the fair as well.

The three of you walk across the street, waiting for a safe clearing before you head towards the ticket booth at the entrance of the fair. Joel easily pays for the three of you, despite your wallet and cash being ready and in-hand.

“Joel,” you say gently, “you didn’t have to pay for me.”

He smiles, shrugging his shoulders. “Please, it’s not a big deal.”

Sarah looks up to her dad, her lit-up iPhone in her hand as she puts on her best puppy dog eyes. “Can I please go meet Stacy and Lilly now?”

Joel sighs. “Fine, but you keep me updated on your whereabouts, okay?”

She nods fervently. “I promise!”

He gives her a small kiss on the forehead before she’s on her way, scurrying off to be with her friends.

“Guess she doesn’t want me around this year,” he says with a small laugh, but it doesn’t hide the pain in his voice.

“Aw, Joel, don’t say that. Sarah loves you, and you’re an amazing dad. She’s just getting to that age where she’s not a kid anymore. She’ll be thirteen soon, right?”

He looks to you as he nods. “Jesus, yeah.”

“She’s lucky to have you, and she knows it. When I was thirteen, I barely saw my dad.”

His brows fix together with sorrow in his twinkling brown eyes. “Really?”

“Well, yeah. He was so focused on running for mayor and his campaigns,” you sigh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to darken the mood,” your laugh lightens the air a bit.

“No, not at all. I just had no idea. I thought you two were inseparable, since you work for him and all.”

Your eyes shift to the dirt path in front of you, watching it as you continue to walk along it with Joel beside you. “We haven’t been close in a long time. He’s a bit self-absorbed.”

Joel snorts with laughter. “Well, I could’ve told you that.”

You both chuckle, and you decide to change the subject.

“So, how was your day? I was surprised to see you home so early.”

It’s clear that he gets your signal to switch the conversation, and he does it without a single fret to his words.

“Yeah, I was, too. It was slow today, actually. Normally, I’m not home until after the sun sets, but they didn’t need us as long today.”

“That’s good,” you grin wide. “I’m sure Sarah was happy to see you.”

His eyes soften as he nods. “She was.”

Joel works in construction, and that only adds to the rugged handsomeness that is this man. There’s callouses at the tops of his palms, as well as various small scars and scrapes on his hands and arms. You’re not sure if there’s anything about him that isn’t a complete turn on.

“See? She adores you. It’s okay if she wants to hang out with her friends. Don’t take it personally,” you nudge him gently.

He chuckles, nodding. “You seem to be very knowledgeable for someone who doesn’t have any kids.”

“Only telling you what I personally experienced as a female teen.”

Joel smiles, his eyes turning to look at the different food booths around. “Do you want something to eat? I can’t imagine I gave you enough of a warning to have dinner.”

Your stomach screams in response, pleading for the relief of food. “Oh, it’s not your fault. I was too busy winding down from work to eat. I’d actually love to get something, I’m just so indecisive.”

“Hmm,” he stops in the middle of the wide dirt path, tapping a long, tanned finger to his blackened beard. “Would you like a turkey leg?”

You shake your head as you laugh. “That sounds—messy.”

“So, what? I’m not judging you,” he smiles warmly.

“Maybe something simpler, like a pretzel.”

He gives you a disapproving look, his hands on his hips. “A pretzel for dinner?”

You roll your eyes as you smirk, not being able to help how hot you think it is when he gazes at you in that way. It’s probably your massive-sized daddy issues that have you squirming beneath his line of sight, but you don’t care. You’ll forever find this man to be as sexy as can be.

“Fine,” you quirk up a brow. “How about I’ll have a pretzel and we can share a funnel cake. Deal?”

Joel pats his stomach. “God, with this body? I really shouldn’t.”

“I promise that there’s nothing wrong with your body.” You say it before thinking, and you instantly advert your eyes away from him, continuing over your odd compliment. “Uh—the pretzel stand is over there,” you point, gesturing to it down the path with your head.

You both walk towards the stand, the smell of fresh, soft, buttery pretzels filling your nose and making your mouth practically water. There’s also a cinnamon-sugar pretzel near the window on display that has your stomach rolling over itself in almost agony.

Joel steps up to the window, pushing a five dollar bill towards the older gentleman in the stand. “Two salted pretzels, please.” He holds up his fingers in a peace sign.

The man nods, taking his money as Joel looks down to you with a victorious smirk.

“You’re annoying,” you laugh, shoving him with your elbow. “Why won’t you let me pay for anything?”

“Because I invited you. Just let me treat you and quit complaining about it.”

God. Even his playful assertiveness is sexy. He could do anything at this point and it would leave you weak in the knees. It’s not just what he says, it’s the sultry allure of his deep voice. It’s a soothing, gentle voice, but also powerful and manly. You’ve never heard him yell, but you know that it would knock you off your feet if you did. Just that thought alone tempts you to make him angry, just to experience firm, enraged Joel for your own wicked pleasure.

He hands you your pretzel, clicking his to yours as he bows his head slightly. “Cheers.”

You laugh, biting into the soft, fluffy flesh of the browned bread. The flaky salt hits your tastebuds with a delicious sting, making you salivate as you chew.

“Mmm,” you groan, “thank you, Joel. I’m starving.”

Joel’s eyes meet yours, giving you a small smile as his jaw flexes from his chewing. “You’re welcome. Now, to that funnel cake stand.”

You nod, walking down the path a bit to be instantly drawn in by the smell of decadent, fried batter. Joel bites at his pretzel again, briefly mesmerizing you with his mouth before you look to the funnel cake menu.

“Are you a chocolate or fruit woman?” he asks, pulling his bifold out again.

“Definitely chocolate, but there’s nothing wrong with both. What about you?”

Joel looks to you with a smirk, licking his lips free of salt. “Chocolate. But I was wondering if maybe we did one with chocolate sauce and strawberries on it.”

“God, you’re amazing,” you practically groan. “Yes. That sounds perfect.”

He chuckles as he nods, both of you waiting in line as you finish your pretzels. Joel takes your paper sleeve from you, smushing it with his as he bunches them together, tossing them in the nearest trash can.

You watch as he orders the funnel cake, enjoying how he’s taken charge of the evening. The thought that he might be doing this because he thinks of you like a daughter makes you suddenly feel sick, and you’re praying that he doesn’t. The fact that he said ‘woman’ and not ‘girl’ when asking if you prefer chocolate or fruit was comforting. It made you hope that he saw you as a exactly that; a woman.

His hand slips into his bifold to pull out another five dollar bill, stopping to gaze up at the menu again.

“Sorry, could you actually add a large lemonade to that, too, please?” he hands the guy a ten. “Thanks.”

“I love lemonade,” you smile wide at him, feeling how hot your cheeks have become.

“Me, too. I just know that I need something to drink after that pretzel, and I figured you did, too.”

You both move to the side so other people can order as you wait for your funnel cake to be finished.

“Thank you. You’re so nice to me, Joel.”

He chuckles. “And you’re nice to me. And Sarah, which means more than how you act towards me. You could hate my guts, but as long as you’re nice to my girl, that’s all I care about.”

His girl. God, what you wouldn’t give to be called that by him.

Joel stretches up to grab the funnel cake and lemonade from the woman who hands it to him, and the both of you find the nearest table to sit down at. He hands you a fork once you’re settled down into an old plastic folding chair at a splinter-inducing wooden table.

His fork crunches into the plastic plate as he stabs the dessert, his mouth stretching out in an ‘oops’ expression.

You can’t help but laugh. “It’s okay, these plates are cheap. If stuff gets everywhere, it gets everywhere,” you shrug.

Joel chuckles, pushing a pierced bit of the cake into his mouth. “God,” he chews, “yes, yes, yes.”

You take your own bite, savoring the sweetness of the chocolate, the strawberries, and powdered sugar. They all combine into a beautiful explosion of delectable sugar in your mouth, making you nod in approval.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” you say, taking a bit more.

“Oh, I agree.” He gives you a half smile. “And thanks to you, I actually allowed myself to eat it. I never eat stuff like this anymore.”

You ruffle your brows. “Why?”

“Well, I’m about to be forty, and my metabolism isn’t the same as it used to be,” he chuckles. “I’ve already got the dad bod.”

“Dad bods are hot!” you blurt, watching as his eyes widen in surprise, and his eyebrows raise. “I just mean that—like—all dad bods are hot. Having a six pack isn’t the rage like it used to be. It’s dad bods.”

Joel laughs, his head turning down to the funnel cake as he continues to eat. He quickly drops his fork as he chews, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Sarah just texted me to tell me she’s going on one of the big rides. She sent me a picture, look.” Joel flips his phone around, and it’s a picture of a wide-eyed, over-exaggerated with fear, looking Sarah and a large ride behind her.

“She’s adorable,” you giggle. “I never rode those things as a kid.”

“Why not?” Joel asks, locking his phone and tucking it into his jeans again.

“I’m a pussy.”

He lets out a loud laugh, contagious enough to have you giggling along with him.

“Why don’t we go on some? We’ve got the bracelets,” he shimmies his wrist at you.

“Oh, god, Joel. I don’t know.”

“Come onnnn,” he drags out. “It’ll be fun. What’s the point of going to the fair if you aren’t gonna ride the rides?”

Rolling your eyes, you sigh, grinning from ear-to-ear. “Fine, but if I throw up, you’re not allowed to judge me.”

His eyes soften as he stands. “I already told you I’d never judge you.”

Joel gestures the rest of the funnel cake to you, but you turn it down, resulting in it being tossed into the trash. You’re both walking quicker than before, your feet carrying you to the ride where you lay against the side and it spins you in a fast circle.

“I will definitely throw up on that one!” you protest, anxiety clawing its way into your chest.

Joel hops in the very short line. “Are you really going to let my money for your bracelet go to waste?”

You glare at him as you cross your arms with a smirk on your lips. “Didn’t think you’d hold it over my head.”

“Well, now I am,” he teases.

The carney signals you guys forward, and you’re both running onto the ride, strapping yourselves against the padded wall directly beside each other. You can feel your heartbeat in your neck, and Joel looks to you as he guffaws.

“If you’re too scared, we can get off, y/n. It’s really okay.”

“No!” you say firmly, finding your courage. “This ride is my bitch.”

Joel cackles with you joining him.

Your hands are gripping the bars near your shoulders as the ride finishes being loaded up. You can hear it being geared up, the slow spin beginning. It’s nerve wracking waiting for it to get to full speed, but it only happens within a matter of seconds.

You’re spinning so quickly you feel like you’re going to fling through the open ceiling of the ride that you don’t dare to look up into. You know that if you turn your head anywhere other than up, you’ll be vomiting funnel cake and pretzel all over everybody in this ride.

The music in the ride is deafening, as are the mechanics and the wind whipping in your ears. Joel screams out beside you, and you decide to scream with him. Slowly, you turn your head, watching through your whipping strands of hair, his own hair being roughly pushed around by the wind.

The ride comes to a stop after what feels like forever, and Joel stumbles out of his space, tumbling to the ground and falling flat on his back.

“Oh, my god!” you cackle, releasing yourself from your seatbelt confines to stumble carefully over to Joel. You see about three different Joel’s from how completely dizzy you are.

“Ah, fuck. I’m too old for this, y/n,” Joel laughs hysterically, his eyes closed.

“Oh, shut up. You’re not old. Now, get up.” You hook your arm under his, slowly pulling him to his feet.

Your arms stay hooked as you both wobble out of the ride, Joel clutching the railings out of the ride for dear life.

“Give me a minute, I still feel like I’m spinning.” His laughter hasn’t stopped since you set foot on that ride.

Your equilibrium has mostly replenished, and you can’t help but laugh at Joel’s lack of steadiness.

He leans back off the railing after a few minutes, brushing his hair down with his palms. “Ah, I’m a mess.”

“You look fine, Joel,” you giggle, fixing your own hair as you wonder how fucked up it looks. “You still want to ride more rides?”

“Maybe just not as spinny,” he chuckles, finally starting to walk towards you. “Something easy.”

“What about the carousel?”

Joel nods. “Perfect. Let me catch my breath a little on those.”

You walk over to the ride filled with shiny, lavish horses all having a pole going through them. There’s only a few people ahead of you, mostly everybody waiting for the bigger, scarier rides.

Joel and you walk the steps, the ride wobbling a bit as everyone gets to their horse. You pick the one that’s your favorite color, and Joel is seated on a sparkly white one beside you.

“Beautiful,” you giggle.

Joel beams wide at you. “I happen to like my glittery horse, thank you very much.”

The funniest part about it all, is how a man so burly and masculine is giggling like a school girl on the back of a wonderfully feminine horse. You’re both laughing your heads off as the ride starts up, going in big, decently slow circles with your horses sliding up and back down easily.

There’s a bit of a jerk in yours, making you move suddenly forward towards the pole. Joel grips your pole, your head hitting the softness of his hand.

You’re amazed at his reflexes, and also his ability to detect you were going to fly forward.

“Wow, thanks, Superman,” you smile with a slight laugh.

“As soon as we started going, I could see that one was a bit wonky. Unlike my pretty glittery queen beneath me.” He uses his other hand to pat the ass of his horse.

Your horse juts forward again, making your forehead knock against Joel’s hand.

“God, I’m moving. This one is gonna kill me,” you say, quickly hopping off to go to the one on the other side of Joel.

His head turns as it follows you, his eyes examining the horse closely. “It seems good, I think.”

“Oh, yeah. This one is a lot smoother.” You quickly pull your phone out, pointing it to the mirror directly beside you. “Smile, Joel!”

Joel closes his eyes as he presents you with a big, toothy grin, and you giggle as you snap your picture in the reflection.

You examine the photo, laughing at the both of you. You turn your phone to show him and Joel belly-laughs.

“You’ve gotta send that to me,” he giggles. “It’ll embarrass the shit out of Sarah.”

Later, you’re both sitting down at the same table where you had your funnel cake, Joel having purchased another lemonade for you two to share. It brings you a slight thrill to know his lips were wrapped around the same plastic straw that you are currently sucking lemonade through.

You’ve had such a good night with him, that the inner imaginary you is actually starting to believe that you may still end up kissing on the Ferris wheel.

Joel pulls out his phone, standing up. “Okay, Sarah said one more ride and then she’s ready to leave. Let’s go win a stuffed animal.”

“Okay,” you beam, carrying the lemonade with.

He lands on a shooting game, and you have to shoot one hundred pellets into a target to break the bullseye out of the paper. If you do it, you get to pick any prize you want and take it home.

Joel holds the stationary rifle steady, leaning down a bit to keep his eye on the sights. The bullets shoot out quickly with a sharp whistling sound as they crash against the paper. Before he’s even finished with his full round of pellets, the middle of the paper falls down, Joel backing up and triumphantly holding his hands in the air.

“I’m the pellet god!” he cries, making you giggle like an idiot.

“Okay, you can pick your prize,” the younger-looking man says to him.

Joel gestures to you, looking to all the prizes.

Your eyes immediately land on the giant purple ape, pointing with a wide grin. The man climbs up and gets it down, the damn thing being as long as you. Joel takes it and hands it to you, your arms enveloping it into a huge hug.

You turn. “Thank you. I’m gonna name him Joel.”

“Oh, yeah? Do I look like an ape?”

You giggle, shaking your head. “Nope. It’s just because I like him so much.”

Joel smiles softly at you, his brown eyes gazing into yours. You feel weak in the knees by the way he’s looking at you, and you know that you’re reading too much into his gaze.

“Daddy!” you hear, the both of you turning to see Sarah. “Did you win me a stuffed animal?”

Joel looks to you, then back to Sarah. “Actually—”

“Yes, he did!” you beam, handing the gorilla to the little girl who can barely carry it. “But he said you have to name him Joel.”

Sarah hugs the stuffed animal tightly, smiling wide as she nods. “Thank you so much.” She puts the animal down briefly to give her dad a huge hug, his arms falling to wrap her up.

Your eyes are a bit bleary as you watch their moment, wishing that your dad would’ve given a damn enough about you to even take you to a fair.

Back at home, you say good night to Sarah as Joel pulls into his driveway. Sarah gives you a hug, then runs inside with her big stuffed animal clung to her side. Joel walks you to your door, peering down at you as you unlock it.

“That was sweet of you to give that to Sarah,” he says sweetly. “Thank you, y/n.”

“Oh, please. I’m sure it means more to her than to me.” Your body faces his. “Thank you for tonight. I had such a good time.”

“I did, too. I’m happy you came with.”

“Me, too.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and all you hear is the chirping of crickets and the buzzing of the cicadas.

“Anyway, good night, Joel.”

“Good night, y/n.”

You walk into your house, closing the door behind you as your back presses against it. Of course you wanted that gorilla, knowing that Joel won it for you, but you wanted Sarah to have it more.

Their relationship is so special and rare. You would kill to have your dad give you more than a passing glance in the last ten plus years. It makes you happy knowing that they will have a good relationship forever, and Joel will make sure of it because he loves her more than anything in the world.

***

#pedropascal #joel miller #tlou #the last of us #pedro pascal fic #joel miller fic #pedro pascal smut #joel miller smut #y/n fics #the last of us fic #smut #javier pena #javier pena smut

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dumbass-tumbler-cryptid · 1 year

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This was really fun for me and a nice little break from the other stuff I write and people seemed to like the other two soooo....

Paz lives modern au part 3

part 1 part 2

Miles made good on his promises to Paz after their fight

He’d get Spider ready for the day every morning and would get the toddler ready for bed every night

Spider loved getting so much of his daddy’s attention.

Before his parents fight Spider would maybe get held by his dad for a few minutes before being passed to his mama, or his dad would half heartedly wave some toys in front of his face.

Now Miles was invested, always giving his undivided attention to Spider, putting 100% of his effort into being a good dad.

He put just as much effort into being a better husband too.

Miles started to cook for his family on the weekends. And he was bad at it.

When he was a bachelor he lived off t.v dinners or unseasoned boiled chicken and vegetables.

So when Paz watched him plonk some unseasoned chicken into a pot of boiling water she said oh hell no.

Paz and Miles cooked together after that so that Miles could learn.

Miles even took it upon himself to learn by watching food network during his lunch breaks at work.

He could competently cook a decent meal by himself after a few months.

Miles did start paying Paz to be a stay at home mom. $1,000 cash every Friday

When he asked Paz if she thought that was enough she was stunned and just said yeah. She was only going to ask for half that amount.

When their second child was born Miles took as much paternity leave as he could.

He was only given two weeks but he luckily had a lot of vacation days saved up (having never taken a day off once in his entire military career) so took another two weeks of vacation time, then worked it out to where he could work from home for two weeks after that.

He basically spent the time policing Spider while Paz took care of the new baby.

They’d switch kids depending on their needs, (Spider just wanting his mama, Miles agreeing to hold the baby while he slept because he’d start crying as soon he was put down) and so they could both properly bond with the new baby while making sure Spider wasn’t feeling neglected by either of his parents.

Just because I like the idea, Miles and Paz unintentionally keep up with Jake and Neytiri when it comes to baby making.

They never plan a single one of their kids either

I don’t mean in a natural family planning way, I mean in an irresponsible, horney on main kinda way.

Which no one would even expect because Miles and Paz aren’t very affectionate with each other. Not publicly at least.

In private though, when they can let there walls down, they are one of the most loving couples you could find

I like the idea of them having two other boys then a girl.

Because I feel Miles especially would feel super comfortable with his ability to raise boys

So they’re on baby number 4 and they find out they're having a girl and Paz is just like “oh. I didn’t even think we could make those.”

Meanwhile you could knock Miles over with a feather.

He’s freaking out (internally, not showing it all externally) all the way up until their daughter is born.

He instantly falls in love. He instantly fell in love with all his kids but this is different. This is his baby girl.

I imagine the kids all being about 2-3 years apart. Spider would be 7-8 when his little sister is born.

Spider is a protective big brother, but he’s not responsible like Neteyam. Oh no. He’s the ring leader type of big brother.

Anything wrong happens in the house his parents are coming to interrogate him first because he either knows everything or started everything.

The kids are all pretty well behaved though. They just get up to normal, weird kid shenanigans that are typically harmless, although somebody will end up in the e.r every once in a blue moon.

Miles is the disciplinarian. He doesn’t yell (because Paz would kick his ass if he did) but he will use his stern commander voice when the kids have screwed up.

Paz is more like “is that the best you can do?

#miles quaritch #spider socorro #miles spider socorro #colonel miles quaritch #paz socorro #miles quaritch x paz socorro

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xx-alice-in-wonderland-xx · 2 months

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Turning Red | Meis friends headcannons 💖

head cannons about Miriam priya and Abby 😸😸

Miriam:

Her birthday is December 21st 1988

is Jewish

is set 1 maths, set 1 English, set 1 Spanish and set 3 science (this is based on what lessons we have sets/levels at my school - idk what u call it in America but 1 is highest and 3 is lowest expect for English and maths were 16 is lowest)

has been friends with Mei since preschool which is why they’re the closest to eachother - it used to be just them then Abby and priya joined

Likes grunge clothes

likes nirvana

plays the sims 1

loves videogames

loves avril lavigne

was forced to have piano lessons by her dad lol she can play pretty well

HATES wearing skirts

vegetarian

can imitate accents VERY well - especially a Scottish and Australian accent

goes on vacation abroad/holiday atleast twice a year

loves carnivals

Is defo that friend that messages u. 2 seconds after you get home from school saying ‘you wanna play out?’ Or if you don’t know what that means (it’s what me and my friends say) ‘you wanna go to the park?’

has pancakes everyday for breakfast. Has a 3 year streak of doing it

Her parents are called Ava and Carl

has WhatsApp - she isn’t allowed tiktok or Snapchat or insta (listen I know they’re in 2002 but let’s pretend they had that in 2002)

goes to a synagogue once a week

knows how to say ‘hi my name is Miriam’ in Korean cause of Abby lol

wants to be a doctor when she’s older

Priya:

Her birthday is January 4th 1989

she is a hindu

is In set 2 maths, set 1 English, set 3 Spanish and set 2 science

is actually blind if you take her glasses - she sleeps with them on because if she doesn’t have them on her vision will literally just be very blurry blobs of colour

always wears rings

has been friends with Abby since elementary - before that she was a bit of an outcast for being calmer than the other kids and liking dark and scary things which the other kids didn’t like

became friends with Abby because Abby stood up for her

writes rip off version of nightfall/twilight lol

when she first read nightfall/twilight she immediately drew a vampire bite mark on her arm and pretended to be a vampire (I did this too when I first watched twilight okay don’t judge)

is not allowed to dress as a goth

has a crush on the goth girl

is pansexual and asexual

she doesn’t show affection thag much but everyone she cares for and her family and friends know she loves them

If you get to pick where you wanna sit in lesson she always sits at the back in the corner so she can’t be disturbed while reading

reads in lesson

has had her book taken off her because she wasn’t paying attention (that happened to me then I snatched it off the teachers desk lol)

her parents are called Maitreyi and Arjun

likes tomb raider but doesn’t play it

is the spitting image of her dad

swears a lot when she’s angry

likes the goth family from the sims

hates rollercoasters

she once went to a theme park and she went on a ride where it was like a giant claw and loads of people are on it and it swings you upside down, to the left, to the right, and she loved it (I went on one like that lol)

Once passed out on a rollercoaster

wants to be a author or historian when she’s older

Abby:

her birthday is June 30th

is set 8 maths, set 4 English, set 3 Spanish and set 3 science

is dyslexic

has adhd and always forgets to take her meds but they barley do anything so she doesn’t take them anyway

you cannot let her have sugar or else she will be up the walls

only can drink juice or water at her house unless it’s someone’s birthday, Christmas or halloween

her parents are VERY strict

loves watching the simpsons

has to share a room with her older sister and she HATES it

She tried to bleach her hair blonde but it went orange so she died the top black then has it fade to a dark orange/brown and she loves it

has a haircut every month due to her mom being a hairdresser

used to cut her bangs as a kid

can style hair but no one lets her cut it

Can down a WHOLE bottle of water in 10 seconds

has tiktok

always does the latest tiktok dances/uses the latest tiktok sounds

Has a whole box full of earrings

wears a light purple/pink eyeshadow (idk if its actuslly on her character design but in a scene it looked like it so I’m going with it)

loves k-pop - her fav bands are twice, blackpink, Bts, tvxq, shinee, f(x), red velvet, AESPA, ITZY, Izone, ioi, snsd, wonder girls, gidle, clc, stray kids, ENHYPEN, txt, etc. her top favourites are defo twice, Izone, Bts, red velvet and snsd

Once broke a chair while raging in a very aggressive game of monopoly with her siblings

always playing video or board games with her siblings

her parents are called Hyein and Baekhyun

Has a whole wardrobe full of plushies

victorious child

Wants to be a video game character designer when she’s older

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iriel3000 · 8 months

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When Will You Let Her Go?

Whumptober Day 8: “It’s all for nothing.”

LAURA WHUMP, emotional whump, light whump

DISCLAIMER: I am legally allowed to torment the fictional character of Laura Barton (and Bruce Banner) this month.

AN: You are going to learn a lot about my writing process this month, sorry. Most of the whump fics will be 3rd or 4th round drafts. I normally spend weeks, if not months editing. Many of these pieces will be written days, if not hours, before the prompt is due. please forgive any spelling or grammar errors, or if these don't seem up to my usual standard.

thank you for indulging me tho😘

Summary: Laura calls the kids while they are in New York with Clint and Kate. part 1 of 3

“Hey, is everybody having fun?”

“Hi, mom!” Lila circled around Kate Bishop's penthouse with her phone, making Laura dizzy on the facetime call. “We’re having the best time! Look at Kate’s place!”

Clint was in New York helping Kate get ready for her first round of SWORD training and had taken Cooper, Lila, and Nate with him.

“Summer in New York is sooo much better than the winter.”

“What have you been doing? Where are your brothers?”

“They’re right here.” She turned the phone towards Cooper and Nate.

Laura blinked. She thought she was looking at an arcade. The room was huge with various ping pong, fooseball , and pool tables, along with old, upright video games. Cooper was playing online games on a theater size screen and Nate had VR goggles on, punching and kicking the air.

“Hi Mom!” Cooper shouted, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“Hi, sweetie. Hello, Nathan.”

Nate continued playing.

“He can’t hear you.” Lilia swung the phone back around. “Anyway, we swam at Kate’s friend’s house. She has a pool on the roof of her apartment building!”

“Wow, that sounds fun.”

“Way more fun swimming at the Waverly community pool. We also saw Rogers the Musical again and got to meet the entire cast afterwards.” Lila went into the largest bathroom Laura had ever seen and rummaged through some drawers.

“Thought you guys said that play was silly when you saw it at Christmas?”

“Yeah, but we met some of the actors in Central Park a few days ago, it was really cool. The guy that plays dad does not look like him at all.” She laughed and began putting on makeup. “Ms. Nadia gave us box seats.”

“Miss Nadia?”

“She plays Aunt Nat. She's super nice, Mom, and really pretty. She could be Aunt Nat’s twin; they look that much alike.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, and she taught me some ballet moves to take back to my class. Ms. Nadia says I should take jazz classes if I want to be on Broadway like her.”

“But, I thought you were…”

“She’s an amazing dancer, Mom. Dad said she can do all the moves from Swan Lake, like Aunt Nat. She said she would teach me those too.”

“Is your dad there?”

“No, Kate is with us.”

“Why? Where did he go?”

“He had to help Ms. Nadia get some stuff for her Black Widow costume. Guess what?”

“What?” She asked, not thrilled with this new information.

Why would Clint need to help the Black Widow dancer with her costume? The play had been running for almost a year.

“Kate got us Taylor Swift concert tickets!! A suite by all of the celebrities. And we get to take a huge purple, Hummer limousine. I can’t wait!”

“You guys are supposed to come home tomorrow.”

“Dad said we could stay a few more days to go to the concert and to the Hamptons with Kate and her friends. It's summer vacation, Mom.”

“I know.” Laura tried not to sound too disappointed.

This weekend was her and Clint's wedding anniversary. The children were supposed to go to their cousin's house to spend the night so she and Clint could have a romantic evening.

They hadn't had much alone time. Since his retirement, Clint had been keeping busy fixing up the house and visiting New York every couple of months to help Kate.

“Come on, please.” Lila begged.

“Lila! Where are you?” Clint hollered in the background.

“Daddy’s home!”

“Home?” Laura balked, but Lila ignored her.

“Dad! Talk to Mom. Shes using that voice when she doesn’t like something.”

“Why?” Clint came in and gave Lila a hug.

“I told her about staying a few days and she has that tone, as usual.” Lila handed the phone to him.

He covered the screen with his hand.

"I'll take care of it." Laura heard Clint whisper.

“Hey, hon.” Clint removed his hand and she saw him check on the boys.

“You’re staying longer?”

“Is that a problem?”

“When were you going to tell me?”

“When I got back here. Didn’t know the kids were going to call you.” Clint walked down a long hallway to a massive kitchen.

“I called, she emphasized the 'I', “ because you were supposed to call me at noon.”

“Kate, where’d we put the putty?” Clint hollered to his protege somewhere in the penthouse.

“Clint!” Laura yelled.

“What?”

She blew out a breath loudly.

“It’s only our anniversary this weekend.”

“Oh, yeah. Happy anniversary, babe.”

“No, this weekend…”

“I’ll send you some flowers and New York candy. The kids and I went to Dylan’s and went crazy.”

Kate came into the room.

“Tell Cooper to finish his game, we gotta go.” Clint said.

"Is that Nadia? Tell her our matching shirts for the concert came in"

“No, it’s Laura.”

“Oh, hi, Laura!” Kate stuck her face into frame and waved.

“Hi, Kate.” Laura tried to muster some enthusiasm.

“Cooper, get Nate and let's go!” Kate bounded out.

“Clint.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He finally looked into the phone. “What were you saying?”

“So, when are you coming home?”

“I changed the flights to Monday.”

“That’s almost another week.’

“It’s not like the kids have school.”

“I thought we could spend our anniversary together.”

“Seventeen years, it’s not one of the milestones.”

“That’s rude.”

“I mean,” he rolled his eyes, “our daughter has a once in a lifetime opportunity to see her favorite singer at Madison Square Garden in premium seats. For free. We could not afford to do this for her. Do you really want to make her come home so we can go to Applebee’s?”

“I guess not.”

“She’ll think you’re the best mom for letting her stay.”

“Well, let me talk to her one more time.”

“She’s already out the door with Kate and the boys.”

Laura didn’t hide her annoyance.

“I promise she’ll call you tomorrow. We have to go meet Nat and the others. Have a good time with your girls.” He set the phone down.

“What did you say?”

“Have a good time." He picked it back up but all Laura could see was walls. "I’ll tell the kids you miss them. Bye, hon.”

“Wait…”

He hung up.

Laura stared at her phone for a long moment before flinging it on the bed. She gathered up the little, black nightie she’d bought for this weekend and shoved it back in the bag.

find the whole series here....laura whump

#whumptober2023 #no. 3 #it's all for nothing #marvel #clintasha #fic #light whump #hawkeye #black widow #laura barton #natasha romanov #clint barton #when will you let her go

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spoopydooblr · 11 months

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i had this idea from your pfp but like a little drabble of the twins being toddlers and their kendall mannerisms, like while they’re on family vacation they like to stay posted up like ur kendall pfp, sunnies and headphones and it’s just funny bc they’re initially mini stella’s but this is their kendall peaking through

oh baby........literally.....I LOVE THIS! such a lovely idea!

i picture them on family vacay too, hauling all of the babies' shit into the private home they rented for the week. kendall and stella are extremely busy with their production company (fuck waystar studios all the girlies hate waystar studios), but they decide to have a little family getaway when things are a little less hectic. the girls are turning 3 and entering preschool, so ken and stella are both trying to relish the time they have with them before they go to school.

its been less than ideal so far, with one of the twins having an accident on the plane and the other crying the entire time. (luckily they flew private) stella is on the verge of crying, too, but keeps it together as shes cleaning the bum of her kid, kendall trying to calm the other down with some candy.

they FINALLY get there and both twins are exhausted and jet-lagged, along with their parents. stella suggests nap time (for the girls and herself), while kendall does a little bit of work (obviously). the bags are still in the front entryway but stella has had enough and brings the girls to the master bedroom to nap with her. the three girls have a cuddle (i can just picture this and its giving me baby fever) and the twins are feeling much better after napping with their mom. they wake up (at the same time bc twins...obviously) but oh no! mom is still fast asleep! instead of waking stella up, they go and search for their dad, whos on the deck, deep in thought with his headphones on. this sparks an idea in their little heads so they rummage through the suitcases and find their little flower shaped sunnies, ipad and baby headphones. the girls run outside to the deck, careful not to disturb their dad too much.

soon, the three of them have their sunnies and headphones on, sitting cross-legged outside on the deck. kendall knows theyre there, but lets them do their own thing. his heart swells when he sees them match with him and he puts them on either side of his body, arm around each girl. they stare at the ocean in front of them, each listening to their own song.

not long after, stella wakes up to an empty bed, wondering what tf her girls were up to. she pads around the house, seeing the rummaged-through suitcase and fixing it up. shes about to text kendall when she sees possibly the cutest thing ever on the deck outside.

the three of them are posted up, headphones on, watching the waves. stella snaps a picture before they notice, and walks outside to join them.

#kendall roy x oc #kendall roy

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nostalgebraist-autoresponder · 1 year

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Summer in Thibsburg

Two weeks, two whole weeks, of uninterrupted responsibility-free, socially inept nerd bliss. It was not an experience I had had since I was seven, when I had spent the summer back in Minnesota, and found that the friends I had had there, while grown-up, were still not quite grown-up enough to match my needs.

When I was twelve, I had gone on vacation with my mother to various art museums, eaten too many fancy meals. The following year I had been an exchange student in Buenos Aires for the better part of two months, but it had been more of a summer camp than a real vacation -- we had stayed in a dormitory, gone on excursions with the other exchange students in the program. I had been enclosed in a bubble.

Then, when I was a junior in high school, I had gone on a big family vacation to London and Paris with my mother and father. My father, in particular, had seemed to be taking too much pleasure in those two weeks. The theaters, the craft beers, the evenings spent appreciating historical art, and my mother's pouting disapproval. I had stayed home.

I wanted to go to the beach, to go swimming. I wanted to go up to northern Minnesota, to Grand Rapids, to Galesburg, and I was insistent about it to a degree I had not been at any other time of year. My parents were unusually quiet -- I was not used to seeing my father refuse to put on the radio. I had rarely even seen him drive without the radio on. I thought I might have to take the bus to some of my destinations.

"What's wrong?" my father asked, as we drove up the suburban Illinois highway.

"I want to go to Thibsburg."

"That's an odd destination."

"Not as odd as you make it out to be," I said. "You do have to go to Thibsburg sometimes, for work, right? And you go to, like, Galesburg, and Grand Rapids, and all kinds of other places. All I want to do is go to these places and hang out with these people, that's what I want to do. And you and Mom always say no to everything I ask for, but this time you're saying no to everything I ask for, too."

I had no doubt that I was "overreacting." I knew I had no chance of getting my parents to allow me to spend all of June and July in Thibsburg while I hung out at the house of my friend Norman and the people I had met on a forum, and got high with the kids at the mall and watched television while doing something called "lifting," which was essentially weight training. But still, I could not get these places out of my mind. I kept thinking about it.

"Why do you want to go there?" asked my mother.

"Because I've never done it, and I want to. It would be something different than what we do, and I want to change our patterns. We spend all our time doing the same stuff, day after day after day. It's boring. Summer is supposed to be fun, not 'boring' and 'the same.' Isn't that how summer's supposed to be?"

Mom and Dad exchanged glances. "We usually go to Scotland in the summer, and here you come along talking about how we're a family of boring stuffed shirts. Maybe we are, but that's not your fault. We went to Scotland last summer, and the year before that, and the year before that. Where did this come from? Damn, what is this outburst about, anyway?"

"Somebody at school said something. I hate those guys. They keep saying, 'Nerds like you, they should be banned from the planet, this is what would happen to Earth if the machines were given control, they should be killed before they try to breed, I'm just trying to help the planet' -- stuff like that. And they say it to my face, even though it's true. It doesn't make any difference to them that I'm an atheist and I haven't believed in any religion in years and years. They act like there's always been a war going on between nerds and non-nerds, and that the nerds could never win, even though you know they're wrong about that, because you're a nerd and we can't help it."

"Why do you like Thibsburg?" asked my father. "You've never been there. If it's so great, and you've never been there, isn't there something wrong with that?"

"But it's not good because it's great, it's great because it's good."

"Huh. The idea of 'not great because great' is an interesting one."

"Bet you've never thought of it before."

My mother sighed, turning to stare out the window.

"I like Thibsburg because it's different from here," I said. "It's a little town, it's far away from big cities, it has its own culture, and its own people. I'm not used to that, and I want to get used to it. I want people who aren't just part of the system, which is a word I've come up with for 'the shit my parents always force me to deal with.'"

Dad laughed. "Jesus. There's a bit of a hostility there, I think."

"It's hostility to the system, not my parents."

"You're going to Thibsburg?" asked my mother.

"I am. And then I'm going to Boston."

"Yeah? And where is that from?"

"From people at school. I don't know them, really. They're from the Boston area, and they invited me to spend the night at their house for a friend's party. I don't know why they invited me, but I'm not going to say no. Maybe they're being nice to me because I was nice to them."

"Who were they?" asked Dad.

"I don't know any of them except by their names. One of them is named Ian."

Mom looked at Dad. Dad shrugged.

"You know, 'Ian' reminds me of -- you remember, a few years ago you had this friend named Cecil, with the quiet voice? You remember him, don't you?"

"Sure. He lived near here, in Benson. I heard about him through work."

"You'd probably get along with Cecil. I can tell you that."

"I'm not smart enough to get along with Cecil," I said. "Cecil's a genius."

"They're not going to let you stay with them for a whole week, right?" asked Dad.

"No. They're having a friend's birthday party. I can stay for the party and then I'll have to leave."

"Or they might let you stay at their house for a bit."

"Yeah. Their houses aren't really any bigger than the houses around here, anyway. It's not like they're going to invite me to a place where they live in mansions or whatever."

"Whatever," said my mother.

(This is part of the fiction I wrote in 2013 about an online forum in which I'd been active since the end of 2012. Now I'm reworking it and posting it on my tumblr.)

[original post]

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aracely83865610 · 5 months

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Random People Being Struck By Toy Gun Social Media Challenge

Firearms-associated accidents are the second-leading cause of death amongst children - and they’re largely preventable. A researcher gives tips to stop tragedy at home. Nearly 1.7 million kids in the U.S. Because of this, 1000's of children are killed or injured by a firearm each year. The widespread thread among these accidents? Fortunately, parents and caregivers can take simple steps to cut back the chance of an unintentional firearm-related injury at dwelling. Eliminate entry to guns: "This is the only proven method of preventing unintentional firearm injuries is the absence of a firearm from the home," Carter says. Many firearm-related incidents happen just because a baby or group of children stumbled across an unlocked, loaded weapon. If weapons are removed from the home, a baby wouldn't have the chance to return into contact with one. Eliminating guns from your own home is the one absolute method of stopping such accidents. Properly retailer all firearms: If your loved ones has determined to keep guns at house, it is important they're stored correctly.

Video video games will help the mind in a quantity of the way, similar to enhanced visual perception, improved ability to modify between duties, and higher data processing. Judy Willis, M.D., neurologist, educator, and American Academy of Neurology (AAN) member based in Santa Barbara, CA. "It will probably feed data to the mind in a method that maximizes learning," she says. Video video games are designed with a reward structure that's utterly unpredictable. The tension of figuring out you may rating (or kill a warlock), but not knowing precisely when, retains you in the game. That's a strong draw for an adolescent's developing brain, which is impressionable. Tom A. Hummer, Ph.D., assistant analysis professor within the division of psychiatry at Indiana University School of Medicine in Indianapolis. That government management center is important for weighing risks and rewards and for putting the brakes on the pursuit of rapid rewards (like gaming) in favor of extra adaptive longer-time period targets (like next week's chemistry take a look at). This area of the brain doesn't attain maximum capacity until age 25 or 30, which may explain why younger individuals are extra seemingly to have interaction in hours of play while ignoring primary needs like food, sleep, and hygiene.

Officials imagine it’s a bunch of 5 teenagers who're driving in a car basically doing a drive-by capturing with these water-based mostly balls. The toy orbi Gun getting used is called a gel blaster or Orbeez toy gun. It’s crammed with water bullets-which can at occasions be frozen. While it could also be a recreation to some, the Sheriff’s Office says it’s illegal when it causes pain and can even be thought of a misdemeanor depending on accidents. There have been several victims who've come ahead as well as a number of witnesses, all who say they have been merely simply strolling down the road before being struck a number of times. Officials are asking dad and mom to talk to their youngsters about toy guns and reminding them that it’s illegal. Copyright 2023 Nexstar Media Inc. All rights reserved. This material is probably not published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed. As etiquette expectations shift, here’s what to know … Increasingly more Americans are reaching tipping fatigue. How does this have an effect on vacation tipping? And the way does it have an effect on workplace gifting? Exercise equipment, gym equipment, workout tech and extra - we rounded up the best fitness gifts for treating somebody who loves staying energetic. In search of the perfect present for a gaming enthusiast? We curated a group of the most effective gifts for avid gamers.

Should Our Sons Play With Toy Guns Outdoors? A reader worries that allowing her sons to play-fight in the yard sends the wrong message to neighbors. My husband and i disagree about whether or not toy guns are appropriate for our kids and below what circumstances they may be used. Last weekend, our two younger sons have been given water guns as gifts, which they rapidly put to make use of outdoors. They played with the toy guns as in the event that they were actual - shouting "Bang! " after they fired them and collapsing onto the bottom once they have been hit. I’m afraid that even toy guns send a message of insensitivity to our neighbors during this time of persistent mass shootings. My husband disagrees, and the boys proceed to use the guns outdoors. I respect your desire to be a great neighbor. But in your quest, you appear to have skipped over the bigger query right here: Should your sons be taking part in with toy guns at

Though he acknowledged students have First Amendment rights, he referred to as Chapman’s tweet "fake news." He said the district discouraged walkouts to protect students’ safety. Zach still has his assortment of airsoft guns - including the one stamped with the "have a pleasant day" slogan. But nowadays, his curiosity in utilizing them has waned - partly because of the incident, he stated, and partly as a result of rising up. For sure, the scenario may have been worse. Zach wasn’t expelled - others have been. Actually, he graduated from Amity High final spring. When he’s not at his job installing windows, he spends his time taking part in video games and fixing up his outdated Jeep Cherokee that sputters as he drives down Connecticut’s wooded highways. Reflecting on the incident, Zach acknowledged that school officials have a obligation to check up on students who submit troubling messages on social media because "some persons are a hazard." But in his state of affairs, he mentioned, they might have accomplished more research. They may have checked his disciplinary report, which he mentioned was clean, or talked with school officials who know him.

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offthefieldsmau · 1 year

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⚽ 1.92

Wednesdays, attentive reader, were the bane of Stede’s existence. It was lucky for him that since Mary and Doug were back from their vacation; Alma and Louis spent their Sunday thru Wednesday with them, relying on Stede to pick them both up at Alma’s nighttime soccer practice for the rest of the week. The duo would then be deposited back into Mary and Doug’s careful hands at family brunch on Sunday.

However, with the recent honeymoon trip and re-acclimation back into reality, Mary and Doug had been frazzled. Post-wedding chaos was palpable, especially with all the legalities that one had to go through.

Lucky for Mary, she didn’t have to worry too much. Doug was keen on taking over just about every detail that he could. Down to changing his own name, solely because he didn’t want Mary to stress too much about the process all over again.

The bar may have been low, but Doug was hell bent on raising it for the rest of society.

You’ll be inclined to know, however, that while Doug was busy taking care of all the Marriage Things, that left Mary to take care of all the Art Studio and New House Things. And Wednesdays were always fairly busy for Stede as hump day meant all kinds of meetings and check-ins with his infant team of real estate aficionados.

Routine was paramount to him: wake up at 6, breakfast by 6:30, dressed by a soft 7:15 (you never know how his hair will behave, especially by mid-week,) and out the door by 7:45. The drive to the office was a short fifteen, but even then, Stede was the boss.

If he showed up late, but with an armful of donuts, who in the office would have protested?

So his Wednesdays were down to a science, that not even a loose cog in the wheel could disrupt. He gave himself time buffers, just in case he doddled too long getting his skincare routine done, or matching the perfect button-up for his suit.

Which was why his well-oiled Wednesday machine sputtered to a stop when he got a phone call from Alma at 7:00 AM sharp.

“Petal?” Stede patted the lapel of his bathrobe as he stood in his closet, “Why are you—”

“Mom and Doug aren’t home,” Alma sighed and muttered something offhand to Louis, “I think they forgot us.”

Stede scoffed, “They did not forget you. That’s wholly unlike them,” lucky for them, he was ahead of schedule and pulled a blazer off the rack, “You’re sure they’re not home?”

“Pretty sure, dad,” she bemoaned, “my homeroom starts in 30 minutes and we can’t be tardy again. They both left this morning, like, super quick. The coffee pot was still brewing when I came downstairs for breakfast.”

Stede already had his top-half clothed and jumped into a pair of slacks, “I’ll be over in fifteen. Please eat or grab something for the drive to school—”

“Already fed,” her smile in tone was familiar — Stede could see the fondness on her face, “and thank you.”

“Of course,” Stede stopped what he was doing and grabbed the phone, “anytime. You ever need me, you call, okay?”

“Okay.”

Once Stede got in the car, he had to give Oluwande a call about a late show to work, since the school was in the opposite direction of the office from his house. With that push-back, he had to reschedule two morning meetings with prospective buyers.

Like dominoes, his whole day was thrown for a loop. Lunch was an hour later than Stede normally took it (and his stomach protested violently.) His mid-afternoon tea had to be canceled for the day as he got email after email about bank appraisals needed for not one, not two, but three homes.

Someone at Bank of America had it out for Stede Bonnet, surely.

One gold, lone shiny star (like the stickers on his fridge) from the day was the fact that he was not late picking the kids up from school. He and Alma were nearly late for practice drop-off (to which Stede didn’t even get a chance to say hi to Ed, much to his heart’s dismay.)

#prose #chapter one #off the field #off the field smau #otf smau #ofmd smau

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positivelyholland · 2 years

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Like This

harry styles x daughter!reader

taylor swift x daughter!reader

Summary: when you’re making the transition from your mom’s house to your dad’s, things don’t go too well.

Warnings: this is a mess btw, split parents, mentions of fame and stuff, injuries, separation anxiety, adjustment disorder, airplanes, lemme know if I missed anything

While some might say you had it easy in life, things tended to be pretty complicated as a Styles-Swift. For one, both your parents were famous musicians, which meant that sometimes you would have to go weeks without seeing one of them. They both lived very complicated lifestyle, and as their kid you naturally had to too.

On top of this, your parents weren’t together. You would say they were divorced, but they were never married in the first place. You’ve never been on a family vacation, you don’t know what it’s like to have both your parents tuck you in at night, you’ve never had the domesticity of having dinner with your whole family, heck, you have no idea what its like to live a life of normality at all.

You were not a planned pregnancy by any means, but both your parents have not failed to show their unconditional love for you, and you’ve never ever doubted if they regret having you or not.

Some say you have it all. From luxurious vacations to the mansions that you live in, you were very lucky. At this point, your parents don’t even try to hide the fact that they both spoil you senseless (much to your dismay).

You knew that you were incredibly fortunate, and you were aware that so many people have it so much worse than you do, which you were so grateful for. However, there’s only one single thing that you can’t help but wish to have… all you want is to be able to spend time with your parents all together, as a family.

Another reason people say you’re lucky is because your parents don’t hate each other whatsoever, and they’re incredible at co-parenting, with a perfectly planned system set up in terms of time spent with you.

But you just want to be with them both at the same time.

You see, whenever you would be at your dad’s house, you would miss your mom so much that you wouldn’t be able to sleep at all the first few nights after transitioning. But then when you went to her house, you would cry yourself to sleep the whole time because you missed your dad so much.

You were only 7 when you found out you had an extreme case of separation anxiety, but you had been 4 when you were diagnosed with Adjustment Disorder (when you struggle with adjusting to change). Between the two of these conditions, having to switch your entire lifestyle every few weeks was incredibly unhealthy for you, but your parents said there really wasn’t another way to do things.

While the transitions have gotten easier over the years, every time you switched between parents was incredibly difficult for you.

You were in your mom’s car listening to music, hoping that the lyrics of the songs would help calm you down. Since you had been zoned out, lost in thought for most of the drive to the airport, you hadn’t realized that you were already there. The sudden awareness of your surroundings made you incredibly uneasy, since you thought you had more time to process things before you had to jump on a plane to London.

The next hour went by way too quickly. You were zoned out for most of security, and the last few minutes you had with your mom for quite some time weren’t long enough.

“You ready?” taylor asked with a concerned look on her face. She too got super nervous every time you left, as she knew how bad your separation anxiety and adjustment disorder can be. Not only was she nervous for your flight, but she was also going to miss you so much, just like she does every time you leave her.

“Yep fine” you responded, although she didn’t seem too convinced.

“Remember you can call me whenever and if I don’t pick up, call Joe, he’ll let me know you need me, am I clear?” she gives you this talk every single time you leave for more than an hour, but she knows you appreciate the comfort it gives you.

“Mhm, I love you” you felt yourself start to tear up as you realized that you wouldn’t be with her again for another few months. Tears of which Taylor noticed.

“Hey baby it’s okay, you can call me whenever! and aren’t you excited to see dad?” she asked trying to move the conversation to a more positive outlook on the situation.

“Definitely, I missed him so much but I’m gonna miss you while I’m there” you weakly stated.

“You don’t have to miss me when you’ll be having so much fun with him! I know how he takes you such fun places… he’s way more fun than I am” she teases, trying to lighten the mood.

“While that may be true, that doesn’t mean that I won’t miss you” Taylor felt herself starting to tear up too, because these things weren’t easy for her either. She always tried to stay as strong as she can for you, but it’s heartbreaking for her to see you like this. And it doesn’t help that this time was extra hard for you for not really any reason at all.

She gave you one last tight hug as they called you to board your plane.

“I love you so much” she said, giving you a kiss on your head. ~~~~time skip to after the flight~~~~

The flight was relatively easy, as you were able to keep yourself distracted for the majority of it. Once you had gotten off the plane and walked through the London airport to find your dad, that’s when things hit you hard. You started to feel your throat tighten and your breathing quickened. You immediately recognized these things to be the signs of a panic attack starting, which made you quicken your steps to hopefully be able to make it to your dad before things escalated too much.

To your luck, your dad was just around the corner. He had the biggest smile on his face as he saw your figure get closer to him. However that smile soon faded as he saw your chest rising and falling too quickly to be natural.

As you got closer, he realized you were having a small panic attack, which led to him running towards you as fast as he could. He grabbed your bags for you and held your hand as he rushed towards his car.

“Oh baby come here… match my breathing ok? In and out, slowly…” as he coached you through it, he became increasingly worried. While Taylor had called him earlier and warned him how things seemed to be extra bad this time around, he was still heartbroken to see his daughter upset.

Once you had finally calmed down, he wiped the tears that had fallen at some point during the whole ordeal using his thumb with a sad smile on his face. “I missed you dad” you said after a few moments of silence.

“I missed you too, baby… so much” he responded. He pulled you into a very tight hug and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Do you wanna go get ice cream now or go home?”

“Ice cream!” you responded a little too quickly, which made him chuckle.

“Okay we’re gonna have so much fun while we’re here, right?” he asked playfully.

You already started to feel a lot more happy and excited already, and while it will be hard to make the adjustment, your parents are the absolute best and you know they’ll help you through it.

A/N this is shit

#taylor swift x reader #taylor swift x daughter!reader #harry styles x daughter!reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles #taylor swift #positively holland #styles swift!reader

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ateezmakemeweep · 3 years

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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)

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