#coffee pong

[fluffyyewon]

coffee_pong #드라마 #나인퍼즐 #예원 배우님

커피퐁은 오늘 드라마 "나인 퍼즐" 예원 배우님 #간식차 서포트에 다녀왔습니다~🤗

오늘 예원 배우님 서포트는 지인분께서 추운 날씨에 고생하시는 #김예원 배우님과 스탭, 배우님들을위해 #커피퐁 커피, 음료, 팝핑에이드부터 깨끗한 기름으로 현장에서 바로 튀겨드려 따뜻한 꽈배기까지…많은 인원에도 부족함없이 풍성하게 준비해주셨어요~👏👏

세팅도하기전에 커피퐁 커피차에 많은 관심을주셨고요~🚚 귀엽다고하신분도 계셨고 예쁘다고하신분들도 많이 계셨어요~🙈

엄청난 주문을해주셔서 빠르게 드실수있게 열심히 세팅해드렸습니다~🙋‍♂️

멀리서부터 "예쁘다~", "예쁘다~"를 외치시며 인형같은 외모로 나오신 예원 배우님~😍 명품 미소로 인사해주셨고요~🫶 사진도 찍으시며 잠시나마 따뜻한 시간 보내셨어요~📸 추운 날씨에도 예원 배우님 천사같은 미모는 최고였습니다~🥹

넉넉하게 준비해주셔서 많은분들 부족함없이 드실수있으셨고요~👍

특히 아메리카노와 꽈배기 맛있다는 말씀 정말~많이해주셔서 커피퐁도 즐겁게 진행하였습니다~🙏

예원 배우님 추운 날씨에 건강 조심하세요~☺️

믿고 맡겨주신 예원 배우님…지인분의 정성…아낌없이 잘~전달해드렸습니다~🙇‍♂️ . . . #커피차 #분식차 #푸드트럭 #연예인서포트 #커피퐁푸드 #와플퐁

cr: coffee_pong

[synthetic-ultramarine]

There was a post from a few years ago that proposed the idea that the coffee shop AU is a modern version of the rococo shepherdess pastorale. The op of this post later backed off from the idea and said, no, no, i'm not seriously criticising the Coffee Shop Romance! Well, I'm not going to back off. I was seriously criticising the coffee shop romance. I think the coffee shop romance trope has commonalities with the pastoral rococo shepherdess trope, and that's not a good thing.

[schistostegapennata]

Shout-out to the barista at that one weird little pop-up coffee counter in a plant shop that told my friend and I that if we laid on a billiard table under a red light with half a ping-pong ball over each eye we'd see god. Happened about a year ago, sometimes I still remember that from time to time.

[captivemuses]

Not me forgetting that Spiral resets tomorrow so I have to go race through that before I go try and speedrun the mixology event in Honkai to get my free Gallagher. I have a displeased dragon that's getting the brunt of me not being productive lol.

[axels-corner]

I'm kinda tempted to turn the koralie coffee shop au into a comic because I feel like some scenes would work better

[luveline]

can we possibly get the one where Gideon doesn’t like bombshell reader and poor Spencer is watching like☹️

Spencer feels a little like a child of divorce. Like, he absolutely is a child of divorce, but he didn’t think he’d feel this way at work. Lately, all Hotch and Gideon do is argue. 

It’s especially odd in that Hotch doesn’t usually go against Gideon’s judgement, even when he doesn’t agree, but you seem to be something Hotch is willing to fight for, and Spencer has no idea why.

“We don’t need her,” Gideon says. Spencer knows it isn’t Gideon being cruel, just stern. “We have a fine team without her.” 

“But with her, we’re better. And we have an opening. I know you like Greenaway for it, and I do too–”

“Everyone likes Greenaway for the position, she’s more palatable than L/N, and she works harder.”

Spencer tries not to whip his face back and forth like he’s following a ping pong ball, but it’s hard to keep up. He has no idea what his mentor’s talking about in all honesty, you’d seemed more than palatable when you met him last week. You were nice. And barely anybody is nice to Spencer. 

You sounded like you actually wanted to hear him talk, something Gideon has often been alone in. And palatable is a subjective word. 

“That’s not necessarily true,” Hotch says, knowing he’s losing. 

“We’re not gonna rush into picking someone,” Gideon says, less stern, more neutral. 

“No. I have invited her to the Georgia consultation this afternoon.” 

Gideon sighs through his nose. The afternoon rolls around quickly. Spencer doesn’t want to think about it but he’s excited to see you, and he feels conflicted in that; Gideon is the first person in a long time who actually seems to care about him, so Spencer is guilty of always aiming to please, but he can’t understand why Gideon dislikes you so much. Am I being easily led? he wonders. 

He’ll admit to finding you attractive. In his head, that is. You’d spoken so particularly, you’d looked stunning, and you didn’t make a fuss when he wouldn’t shake your hand. You called him beautiful. 

It’s the nicest, kindest attention he’s had since he started. Morgan calls him pretty boy. Spencer knows it’s not the same thing. 

They gather in the conference room, Morgan, Hotch, Gideon and Spencer, just a few minutes before 2PM. A minute later, you’re knocking on the door. 

“Hello…” You smile when you realise they’re here. “Am I late?” 

“No, L/N. Come and take a seat,” Hotch says. 

There’s a plastering of documents on the table and an empty seat by both Morgan and Spencer. You choose the one beside Spencer despite a stack of manilla folders, tucking your chair in neatly. “Oh, the grizzly stuff. This will upset my feminine energy.” 

Morgan laughs. Gideon glares at the table. 

Spencer likes it when you’re around. One more person and suddenly the consultation is a conversation and not a debate. You can keep up with everyone. You laugh at Spencer occasionally and he doesn’t know why, but he can tell it isn’t cruel laughter; he’s had a long time to work out the difference. 

Gideon excuses himself for a coffee half an hour in. 

Hotch immediately leans across the table. “I’m trying to help you,” he says. 

You grimace. “What am I doing wrong now?” 

“The laughing.” 

“You laugh.” 

“I know.” Hotch smiles at you. “You’re getting good at this, you have good insight on the dark triad. You read the book I sent?” 

“How’s Haley?” you ask.

He shakes his head, but his smile stays. “Don’t joke about that.” 

You’re not flirting. Or, Spencer doesn’t think so. It’s more likely you’re joking as Hotch says, everything about your body language pointing to amicable friendliness besides your flirting tones. “I read the book,” you say. Your gaze turns to Spencer. “Bet you’ve read it too, huh? Morgan said you’ve read every book ever written.” 

“That’s an exaggeration,” Spencer says. 

“But close?” you ask. “I’d love some recommendations. You know. For profiling.” 

“Don’t let her fool you, Reid, she’s well read,” Morgan says. 

“Wait, Gideon doesn’t like you because you laugh?” Spencer asks. 

It’s a socially inept thing to say, he realises after. You lean back in your chair all sweet and soft with your legs crossed, your dark stockings thin at the knees. He’s so, so worried you’re going to be offended and that’s exactly what he needs, a possible friend isolated again by his inability to read the room, but you don’t chew him out. You nudge his leg gently with the toe of your heel. 

“Now who said he doesn’t like me, handsome?” you ask teasingly. 

Spencer regrets the heat that floods his face and neck. 

“It’s complicated,” you add, your smile more than friendly, Spencer can’t work it out. “But don’t worry, I’ll turn him around eventually. It’s one of my many talents.” 

Oh, he thinks. That’s what it is. Spencer’s finally in on the joke. 

[felinecyan]

Wide Awake

[Shoto Todoroki x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When you take the couch due to your inability to sleep, unfortunately, you get the scare of your life.

WC: 1737

Category: Fluff, Slight Comfort

Finally finished the fic 😴 I apologize it took me so long 🙏

『••✎••』

You couldn’t remember when you found your eyes closing or when you had dozed off. With your favorite blanket and pillow in hand, you had moved to the sofa down in the common room from your room and set up camp for the night. You couldn’t remember why, either. All you knew was that you were exhausted, and it was easier to fall asleep downstairs without the light that poured in through the hallway.

As you laid on the couch, you found yourself somewhere between being asleep and awake. The world was quiet. It was late. And everyone had long since gone to sleep for the night. Even Kaminari, who had a hard time winding down after dark, had passed out before you. The silence was peaceful and the darkness was calming. The world seemed frozen and at ease.

Your mind was, too, finally, after racing all day. A million different thoughts had been bouncing around in your head like a ping-pong ball. They had been loud, distracting, and almost made you feel sick. But they had quieted now. You could barely even remember what you had been thinking about. Your body was heavy, relaxed, and finally, ready to drift off into a deep sleep.

So you did. You fell back asleep as your body relaxed.

But then, an odd feeling washed over you. A chill ran up your spine. Goosebumps prickled over your arms. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Your heart rate picked up slightly.

Something was wrong.

Your eyes cracked open slowly, and you blinked as you peered around the dark common room. No one was there—at least, not that you could see. Your heart was beating a bit faster. What was going on? Was it just the exhaustion that was making you anxious?

It was probably just the exhaustion, you decided. After all, the world was quiet. Everyone was sleeping. There was no reason for you to be on edge. You were just tired. That had to be it.

Closing your eyes again, you rolled over to face the back of the sofa. But as you did, the feeling only grew stronger. Your heart was pounding against your ribs.

Something was definitely wrong.

This time, when your eyes opened, they stayed open. Not because sleep had left you but because a set of mismatched eyes had suddenly appeared right in front of your own. You screamed at the sudden intrusion and shot backward, but you didn't get far. You had forgotten that the arm of the sofa was behind you. So, instead, you simply fell back against it with a gasp and scrambled back to where you had been, clutching your chest and breathing heavily.

For a moment, nothing happened. Your wide eyes remained locked with those mismatched ones, staring at you with nothing more than curiosity. A single brow rose. A moment passed, and then another. But then, those eyes broke from yours. A voice sounded low and soft.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

You nearly choked. "S-Shoto?! Wha… What the hell are you doing?! Why are you staring at me while I sleep?!" You had recognized the boy's voice almost immediately, even with how soft and hushed it was. It wasn't hard to do. He wasn't exactly the most talkative person.

Your eyes were finally adjusting to the darkness, and you could make out the bowl of soba and the steaming cup of tea in both his hands.

"Contemplating if I should’ve woken you or not," he answered as he stood. "I almost sat on you."

You could only stare at him as he placed the tea and noodles on the coffee table next to your book. The panic and adrenaline were starting to wear off, and your heartbeat was beginning to slow. "What are you even doing up?"

"Couldn't sleep. Decided to eat."

"You couldn't sleep, so you’re eating soba at… What time is it, anyway?"

"A quarter past 3."

Your jaw dropped. "A quarter pa—" You were cut off by a yawn, which forced your jaw shut again. Shaking your head, you ran a hand over your face and looked up at him. "Well, are you done?"

Shoto's brow rose again, confused. "With the soba?"

"What…? No." The amount of sass in your voice was a testament to how exhausted you really were. "With sleep. Attempting to, at least."

The boy shrugged. "Not really. I usually don't fall asleep until after 4. Why? Are you going back to sleep?"

You gave a sigh. "Well, yeah. I was trying to."

"Should’ve tried your actual bed then." He took a sip of his tea, eyeing you as he did. "I’m surprised Tokoyami didn't wake you."

You blinked. "Tokoyami?"

Shoto nodded. "He’s always reading in the dark down here. I don’t think he’s slept since the Liberation War. Hawks’ injuries must’ve really hit him hard."

That was right… you remembered seeing him more and more often downstairs as the days had passed. It was rare to ever see him upstairs anymore. It was just something you had gotten used to. "I should probably check on him."

"Probably."

Another yawn pulled at your lips, and you couldn't help but smile a little. "If he's up, can I get some of that tea?"

"If you want." Shoto turned to sip his tea again, eyes drifting from yours. But when he turned back to look at you, his eyes were wide, and his expression was filled with disbelief. "Wait, you fell asleep here?"

You were already snuggled back up under your blankets. "Uh, yeah? Did you already forget why I screamed in your face?"

He paused, his face unreadable. "I don’t remember you being an insomniac. Are you unwell? Shall I bring some medicine for you?"

"What? No, I'm not sick."

"It’s rare for someone who is well to sleep on the couch."

You sighed. "You just said you don’t go to sleep until later."

"But you don’t come down here at all."

"Because it's not normal for people to hang out downstairs at this time!"

"Tokoyami does."

"Yeah, and you said that's because you told—" You were interrupted by a yawn and shook your head. "Never mind. You're impossible."

"Me? Impossible?" Shoto's brow rose yet again, and he almost sounded amused. "You're the one who's choosing the sofa over your bed."

"I didn't choose the sofa; it chose me."

"Is it a sentient being?"

Sometimes, you couldn’t tell if he was serious or not.

"No, Sho. I just— I couldn’t sleep in my room. And I don’t know why." You sighed and rubbed your temples, the frustration from earlier that day beginning to resurface. "There was a lot on my mind, and I couldn’t shut it off, but it was fine. And then I fell asleep, and I felt better, but then I woke up and—"

"And what?"

You shrugged. "I don't know. I don’t think I can go back to my room tonight."

The two of you fell silent, his mismatched eyes peering into yours. There was something about the way he looked at you. It wasn’t a glare or a scowl, but it wasn’t a smile or a smirk either. It was just him watching you.

Then again, that’s all he ever did. He didn't say much. He didn't smile often. He was quiet. But, if you were being honest, that was probably what you liked about him. He didn't judge. He just listened.

Finally, he spoke. "I know the feeling…" His voice was soft, his gaze distant. "I used to sleep on the floor because I thought I didn’t deserve a bed. I grew out of that, but every now and then, the thought still comes back."

You blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah," Shoto responded. "But my room isn't really home. The dorm is. This is. So when I feel like that, I come down here."

"…Is that why you’re down here now?"

"No. I just wanted soba."

His bluntness made you laugh. You shook your head and smiled. "I forgot you're always hungry."

"Not always."

"Always. It's 3 AM, Sho."

"Yes, and?"

"And? You don't think it's a little weird to eat soba at 3 AM?"

"Weird? You were sleeping down here. That's weirder."

"Hey! I—!" You were cut off by yet another yawn, and you could only look at him as it faded away. "I can't argue right now."

"I'll win anyway," Shoto stated matter-of-factly. "Go back to sleep."

"You can't just tell me to go back to sleep. It's not that easy."

"Sure it is. Close your eyes. Count sheep. Pretend you're dying. Anything works."

"Roki, that's the worst advice I've ever heard."

"And yet, it's still better than any advice Kaminari or Sero would give."

Damn. Tired or not, he still kept it real.

"I’ll wake you up before Aizawa gets here."

"He checks on us? Since when?"

He shrugged. "Certain days. Since that time when Midoriya and Bakugo snuck out to fight, he likes to make sure no one else is trying to do that."

"Oh. He wouldn’t be mad, though, if I was just down here."

"Him being concerned is worse than him being mad."

"I don’t think that’s…" You were cut off by another yawn, and when you opened your eyes, you saw him staring at you. His expression was blank, but his gaze was intense. "Okay, okay. Fine. I'll try. Just don’t watch me sleep again, or I will throw a pillow at your face."

"I wasn’t— okay."

"Okay, you will stop?"

"Okay."

"Good."

You laid back down and rolled over, facing the back of the couch again. You could hear Shoto shuffle a bit and the clink of his chopsticks, but everything was quiet once again. Closing your eyes, you pulled the blanket closer to you. You had to admit, you were a bit more at ease than before.

"If it helps," Shoto's voice suddenly said, "Goodnight."

A smile tugged at your lips, and you shook your head. "Night, Roki."

As you drifted off to sleep, finally, without any worries or intruding thoughts, your smile didn't leave your face. You had expected it to, and yet it didn't.

Aizawa also never came to check on you or the students. You realized this because Ochaco was waking you up in a panic, yelling something about being late for class.

It was a chaotic morning, but at least you were well-rested.

[percheduphere]

You know what I would find really hilarious?

CONSIDER:

The Avengers meet God of Stories Loki and Mobius. Mobius is very charming, very folksy. He pours everyone coffee. Makes sure the thermostat in the conference room is at a comfortable temperature. Offers croissants. All the markers of a good host.

The Avengers all like him right away but are wary of Loki. After a comedic abridged version of a TVA infodump, in which Loki and Mobius ping-pong little details and show their whole squabble and tease dynamic, one of Kang's underlings is captured.

MOBIUS: Okay. Think I got a read on this guy. You wanna take a swing at him for intel or should I?

LOKI: I think you should. Y'know, trying out the whole 'good guy' bit.

MOBIUS: Sounds good. Gentlemen's competition. Time me?

LOKI: Of course.

And the Avengers watch as this cozy little human goes in and just EVISCERATES the underling. No weapons. No superpowers. Just WORDS.

The underling is on the floor, in a fetal position, sobbing and begging no more. He spills all the critical information they need. Mobius steps out.

The Avengers are in SHOCK.

BUCKY: (mumuring) ... Jesus Christ ...

HAWKEYE: (whispering) Holy shit, he's scarier than Nat.

MOBIUS: (to Loki) How'd I do?

LOKI: 2 minutes and 43 seconds. Not bad.

MOBIUS: Eh, still haven't beat your record.

LOKI: Well, I do have the advantage of magic. Should I take a handicap?

MOBIUS: Don't insult me.

[rafesfavgirl]

stop asking me to stay — r. cameron

❝ please don't fall apart i can't face your breaking heart i'm trying to be brave stop asking me to stay ❞

pairing: bf!rafe x fem!reader

context: you and rafe have been dating for seven months, and while the relationship started it out well, as soon as the honeymoon phase ended (about 3 months in), everything went to shit. you've been trying to put up with it, but tonight, you realize you've had enough.

words: 1.4k+

warnings: toxic relationship, cocaine use, alcohol use, attachment issues, might make you cry, no happy ending, angst asf

you walk out into the backyard full of girls in swimsuits and guys in swim trunks with drinks in hand, strobes of light flashing around, and music blasting, hoping to find your dear boyfriend who had disappeared on you. again.

god, how much longer did he think you were gonna put up with this?

you look around, and head for topper when you spot him. he was playing pong against kelce and some of their other golf buddies.

"top," you call out to him when you walk up to the table to join them.

"hey, y/n," he greets you, as he readies his hand to shoot a ball. he does, and it lands in one of the cups, causing the surrounding guys and girls to erupt in cheers. "what's up?"

"have you seen rafe?" you ask him.

"nah, not lately," he shook his head at you, shooting his other ball.

he misses that one.

you snap your head towards kelce. "kelce?"

"last i saw him he was cutting a line in the living room upstairs, y/n," he shrugs, and you groan, rolling your eyes.

of course he was. fucking fantastic.

you don't even say another word to either of them before you walk away and head back towards the house. you manage your way through the crowd just fine and scurry up the stairs to the second floor.

just as kelce described, you find rafe seated on a couch in the living room surrounded by some guys and girls—one who was a little too close to him for your liking—cutting a line of coke with his black card.

"rafe," you say his name, and his head snaps up at the sound of your voice, his dark blue eyes meeting yours. 

he immediately stands up, pretending as if you didn't just see him cutting the line of coke with his card, shaking off the girl draped over his arm in the process. "y/n."

"can you take me home?" you ask, pulling your eyes away from his. you just couldn't stand to look in them anymore. "i have that interview with the admissions officer from yale tomorrow."

"yeah," he nods, rounding the coffee table to approach you. "whatever you want, baby."

everyone else eyes the two of you carefully, the girl previously draped over rafe giving you the stink eye. no one could ever pull rafe away from the coke faster than you.

when he stops to stand in front of you to block your view of the "friends" he left snorting lines of coke, you look up at him through your lashes, not knowing what to think.

"i've been looking for you for an hour," you say, and he sighs.

"i'm sorry," he replied—you were sick of hearing that though. it was the same half-assed apology every time. and yet, nothing ever changed.

you'd probably go through this exact thing again next weekend when he drags you to some other party.

"save it," you say, catching him off guard.

he knew you didn't like it when did coke, but you never stopped him from apologizing before.

"just take me home," you turn around and walk away from him, making your way back downstairs.

he follows closely behind you, but falls behind a little when you quickly course your way through the crowd on the first floor and he struggles to do the same.

"y/n, wait up," he jogs to catch up to you when you both step outside, but you just quicken your pace towards his car. "babe!"

you hear him call after you, and since his legs are much longer than yours, he manages to catch up and walk in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.

"can you just stop for a second?" he asks, placing both of his hands on either of your arms to make you look at him. "what's wrong?"

"do you even have to ask?"

he sighs, and drops his hands from your arms. "okay, so i snorted a line. what's the big deal?"

"was it just a line, rafe?" you asked, knowing he could never just stop at one.

"so maybe it was two or three," he admits with a shrug. "but what's the big deal? we're at a party, y/n. we came here to have fun!"

"you think this is fun?" you ask him, the pent up anger caused by the way he's been acting the last few months rising to the surface. "it is not fun for me to come with you to these parties only to find you've abandoned me after i go to the bathroom to go snort lines of coke, rafe! let alone find some girl draped all over you and you don't even seem to care!"

"oh for fuck's sake, it's not like i'm sneaking off to fuck them, y/n!" he defended. "they do that shit on their own. what do you expect me to do about that?"

"uh, i don't know, tell them to fuck off? to get off you? to stop? to move?" you say, stating several different things he could have said to them.

he knows your right, but as always, he refused to back down.

"god, are you seriously bitching about this?" his voice was louder know, the adrenaline from the coke clouding his judgment and riling him up. "wait- no, that's-" 

he immediately realized what he just said to you, and though he wanted to take it back—and even tried to—it was too late.

"you know what? just go back inside, rafe," you shrug, finally giving up.

there was no use fighting back anymore because you were never gonna get through to him. not when he was like this—coked out of his mind.

"go back to your coke buddies, go back to whatever girl decides to throw herself onto you next, and just forget about me," you tell him. "i'm done."

his coke-induced state of mind seems to fade completely when he hears those two words come out of your mouth.

"what?" his voice was much quieter now, and delicate. something not usual for rafe.

"you heard me," you said, looking him in the eyes. "i can't keep doing this, rafe."

"no, no, no, no, no," he shakes his head frantically, panic clearly building up in him at the thought of losing you. he closes the distance between the two of you and takes your hands in his. "i promise i'll do better, baby. i'll change. i love you."

as much as you wanted to give in and believe him, you knew that your relationship had run its course. he did love you—you never doubted that. but it shouldn't have to be this hard. enough was enough.

you needed to do what was best for you, and this just wasn't it anymore. as much as you loved him, you knew this was the best thing for you. no matter how badly it broke your heart, you had to walk away.

"not enough to choose me," you shook your head, tears threatening to well up in your eyes. "you give in every time."

he drops your hands from his, his demeanor changing again. now, he looked furious. cold. meaner.

"well, i'm sorry i'm not fucking perfect like you!" his voice was full of venom. the rafe cameron you fell in love with was gone. "you know what? just do what you want, y/n. go run off to yale and find some perfectly polished guy! see if i care."

his eyes filled with disgust as he trailed them over you, a scoff leaving his mouth, "i should've just fucked all those other girls. at least they know how to have fun."

while you knew he wouldn't take your words well, you never expected him to be so cruel. but then again, wasn't it always this way? when he was off of it, you never really knew what to expect.

another reason why you had to walk away. it wasn't worth all the exhaustion going back and forth with him. he wasn't worth it anymore.

"go ahead," you say, trying your hardest to keep a solid front. no way you were going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break.

he rolled his eyes. "find your own way home, bitch," he spat, bumping your shoulder as he walked back towards the house.

the second you knew he could no longer see you, you break.

the rafe you knew was gone.

part 2.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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[jenomi]

"i don't think i'll come to the campfire tonight" you say leaning against your roommate's doorframe.

"noo why?" your roommate and best friend cries as she sets down her makeup brush to grab your hand.

"i'm just feeling really tired from work and need a night in" you reply swinging your connected hands, "let everyone know that i'll be at the next one."

"alright fine cuz I know how long this week has been for you, but we all know a certain someone is going to be disappointed" your roommate teases.

you could only blush in response. a part of you hoped deep down that haechan would miss you at the campfire tonight, and you wanted to pull yourself together to see him but you know your own limits. you knew you wouldn't be great company tonight.

you met haechan through friends of your roommate. ever since you had moved into this new apartment, you and your roommate had decided to start hosting small get togethers with close friends at the communal outdoor area. this space had games like ping pong and pool and a campfire area. you had met haechan at another friend's party and grew close as you continued to see him at other functions.

you definitely played a role in how close haechan got with you as you would seek him out at parties and want to spend time with him. occasionally, the two of you would step out to get some fresh air and fall into deep, yet comfortable, conversation with each other. you started to grow fond of him and send messages to him with memes that you thought he'd like or message him to join you for some coffee or lunch.

it was only when your roommate called you out that you realized you liked haechan more than a friend. all the times you would bring him up, how you would always look for him in a crowded room at parties, how you're always giggling when texting or calling him. it made you shy to admit it, but it was true. you weren't sure how he felt about you, though. your roommate had tried to tell you multiple times that your feelings were reciprocated but you thought he was hard to read. nonetheless, you were pretty confident that he only saw you as a friend, so you felt discouraged seeing him and pining after him.

so there was a small sense of relief in how you wouldn't have to see him tonight and feel hopeless. what a way to beat you when you're already down.

an hour later, your roommate heads downstairs to meet up with the others and help start the campfire. haechan shows up an hour late as usual, and the first thing he notices is your absence.

"hey y/rm/n, where's y/n?" haechan asks almost immediately.

a smirk spreads across your roommate's face before she replies, "she's upstairs. she's had a long week so she's burnt out."

haechan nods in response. he wanted to see you, but he also didn't want to overstep. he also felt disappointed in himself. how had he miss the signs? he had been texting and calling you all week, and he never noticed that you were tired.

"you should go up and see her. i'm sure she won't mind." your friend says as haechan is deep in thought. "really? are you sure?" haechan asks, a little too eagerly. "yea she was bummed she couldn't make it. she's probably really lonely up there."

haechan doesn't need to ask again. he quietly slips out of the group and heads towards your floor. he nervously rings your doorbell. you groan as you throw off your blankets and get up off the couch. your eyes widen in shock as you open the door to your crush, haechan.

"hyuck?" you say dumbfoundedly "how could you not tell me you’re burnt out?” he demands making his way into your apartment. "okay come on in” you mumble.

as he takes off his jacket, you become hyperaware at the fact that you're in your pajamas, bare-faced, with messy hair. little did you know, haechan loved seeing you like this. naturally beautiful.

“i wish you’d told me you’re tired. i would’ve come earlier to cheer you up and brought your favorite food” “i didn’t want to bother you?” you’re still confused at his reaction and sudden appearance. “why are you nagging me right now?” “you know i only come to these things to see you. imagine my surprise to see you weren’t there”

he only comes to see you?

“what?”

haechan takes a step closer to you. “i care for you y/n. i wish you had told me you weren’t feeling well”

you were shocked at his words. he cares for you? he wants to take care of you?

haechan must see the confusion in your eyes as he adds, “i like you y/n. more than just friends. i think about you all the time and i want to see you even when i’m busy. i want to know everything about you, even the smallest things, and i want to hear about your day and comfort you when it’s hard. i want to take care of you and make sure you never skip a meal. i want to be there for you when you're tired and help you feel better. let me be a shoulder for you to lean on. let me care for you properly.”

your eyes were wet with tears. there was so much sincerity in his voice, you don't remember the last time you let someone take care of you. sure, you had your roommates and friends but you hated bothering them with your troubles. most shocking was the disbelief that you were both on the same page without knowing it.

he pulls you in for a hug. you feel yourself immediately relaxing and leaning into donghyuck's touch and smell.

“i’d like that” you whisper into his shoulder in response to his confession.

he rubs your back in response and places a kiss on your forehead.

together, you move back to the couch and he orders your favorite take out as you tell him about the long week that you’ve had while cuddled into his shoulder. he listens intently while giving you words and touches of reassurance.

you feel a weight lifted off your shoulders sharing your struggles with donghyuck. you felt so incredibly lucky and grateful to have him here and you vowed to yourself in that moment that you would allow him to be a shoulder for you to lean on and to be there for him in his struggles as well.

[fluffyyewon]

coffee_pong #드라마 #나인퍼즐 #예원 배우님

커피퐁은 오늘 드라마 "나인 퍼즐" 예원 배우님 #간식차 서포트에 나와있습니다~🤗

오늘 #김예원 배우님 서포트는 지인분께서 추운 날씨에 고생하시는 예원 배우님과 스탭, 배우님들을위해 #커피퐁 커피, 음료부터 깨끗한 기름으로 현장에서 바로 튀겨드리는 따뜻한 꽈배기까지…풍성하게 준비해주셨어요~💯

세팅도하기전에 #커피차 귀엽고 예쁘다는 말씀 많이해주시네요~🚚

오늘도 최고의 서포트가될수있도록 최선을다하겠습니다~🙇‍♂️ . . . #분식차 #푸드트럭 #서포트 #커피퐁푸드 #와플퐁

cr: coffee_pong

[mystellenia]

first kiss with abby ୨ৎ

summary: after the romantic tension between you and abby reaches a peak, you two finally share a sweet kiss.

content: answer to this req and part two to this!! fluffyfluffyfluffy! ehehehehehe. i love fluff i love writing fluff. nothing nsfw. just lowk domesticity with abby and then super cutesy pie origami stuff and then a kiss 💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋 ok toodles enjoy

notes: three weeks of no post i’m sorry my children. i am back!!! classes just finished and now i have summer break so i just had to soak in my freedom from my fuckass med teacher. he can choke fr 💯

(wc 1.6k)

a series of vibrations from your phone rudely pulls you out of your sleep and you swipe your hand across the bed to silence the notifications. you find your phone connected to abby's charger on her vacant side of the bed, the sheets cold without the warmth from her skin to heat them up. she always ran hot—especially during the night—which usually resulted in her yelping at your cold feet pressed to her thighs and trying to absorb her warmth in the hours of the night. 

you raise your phone to your face and are met with four notifications from abby on your home screen. 

abby :p otw back with our loot  

abby :p two berry pastries for the missus and one cream cheese puff pastry for me 

abby :p and nadia gave us two chocolate croissants bc we're super cool 

swiping to unlock your phone, you head to messages and reply to her. 

you YAY thanks you're the best 

you we gotta get nadia a gift card or somethin

you or a bottle of liquor 

you head to the bathroom to brush your teeth with your toothbrush abby got for you for her apartment since you slept over so often. while you load your brush with toothpaste, your phone lights up with a notice from messages: "abby :p loved 'or a bottle of liquor.' " sticking the toothbrush in your mouth, you smile around the minty foam and continue freshening up before abby returns. 

around ten minutes later, you hear the jingle of her keys at the front door and practically skip to the living room to retrieve your pastries. 

abby unlocks the door and pushes it open, a brown bag with a cafe logo printed on it in one hand and a drink carrier with two coffee cups hanging from her ring and pinky fingers in her other. with her few remaining fingers grasping onto her car keys to not drop them, she nudges the door back shut with her hip and locks it. 

her blonde head donns a blue and white trucker hat, the brim of it blocking her from seeing you standing and sheepishly smiling a few strides away. she calls out to you to signal her return. 

"hey, i'm back! and i come bearing gifts. i got-" it's then that abby takes her hat off and notices you inching ever closer. "oh, hi. i got you herbal tea. there weirdly was a lot of traffic today, even though it's, like, seven." 

she continues on as she unpacks everything that she got for you. "then again, i guess kids have school. man, i hated that about high school—waking up early and getting to class on tim- you know what? you're not listening anyway with your food right in front of you," she chuckles. "go on. release! free!" she pokes, using command words for a dog. 

you kiss your teeth and scowl at her, mumbling a "whatever" before tearing into the paper bag. you're met with your two fruit pastries first, then you spot the chocolate croissants abby mentioned under them. 

the two of you stand and eat in comfortable silence in the kitchen, you sipping on your tea and abby picking at her puff pastry. when you finish, you clean both of your spots and abby throws away the paper bag and pastry wrappers, washing her hands after.

after breakfast, you guys ping pong around her apartment, moving from her bed to the couch to the floor and then back to her bed again, all just to talk or scroll on your phones.

hours pass, and after a brief joint nap in her bedroom, you guys now sat on the floor of her living room, light filtering in from her large windows and warming your skin. the floor was littered in origami squares of all different sizes and colors, the origami book abby had gotten for you split open between you two. 

there was a village of origami figures surrounding you, from hearts to frogs to ladybugs to cranes. the book was flipped to a particularly challenging page of an elephant, and you looked over at abby in confusion. 

she was just as confused as you, if not more. her hair was tied in a messy golden knot at the nape of her neck, loose strands crazy and framing her face. her brows were pulled tight on her face, her eyes bewildered and looking at the same piece of paper in her hands as if she'd never seen it before. 

"what step are you on?" she asks, looking at the square in front of you that you were working on. 

"twelve. out of..." you flip the page twice. "god. thirty." you sit up straight to stretch your back out. "i get it, though. kinda." 

"what? show me. i’m on, like, seven. i swear they skipped a step. or forgot to add a picture. just something is wrong." 

you scoot over to sit next to her, pulling your leg to your body and propping your cheek on it. abby places her piece in front of you puts her hands in her crossed lap, her eyes wide and waiting for you to make sense of her issue. 

"okay, let's see." you pull the book closer to you to confirm the step she's on. "step seven is... rotating and folding the back of the elephant." 

"which i did," abby verifies. 

you rotate the piece and immediately find her mistake. "which you did not." 

"what?! where?" 

"here." you trace your finger along the missing crease. "you see how on mine, this part is creased and pointed? like a peak?" 

"uh-huh..." 

"and yours doesn't do that." 

she simply hums, so you look over at her to confirm that she's listening. her eyes are unfocused and locked on your face. they flit between your own and then drop to your lips for a second. the single second feels quite long, though, when she looks so deeply at you in the way that she does, or when her baby hairs draw attention to her blonde lashes, long and very slightly curled around her sapphire eyes. 

she seems to snap out it—whatever it was—and she deeply inhales, licking her lips and refocusing on the task at hand. 

"can you repeat that?" she asks. "sorry, i... i zoned out." 

it was your turn, now, to lose focus and examine her. you stare at her lips, rosy and still glossy from her just licking them. you stare at the corners of them and the ever so slight frown her mouth always pulls into when she's focused. you stare at the little creases in them, the dozens of lines that- 

"are you looking at my lips?" she questions, interrogative and almost paranoid. 

"oh, um, sorry. i was-" 

"why were you looking at them?" she interrupts again, her eyes wild and demanding an answer from you. 

"because, i- well, you just licked them, so- i don't know. because." you swallow, mumbling, "what, can i not look at them or something?" 

her stone stare softens after noticing your flustered state, and the two of you exchange a long and quiet look. 

abby held her breath nearly the entire time. she didn't want to assume anything or read the situation wrong, but your eyes were dilated. they were dilated from looking at her, and just from that. 

as if it were out of your control—like you were magnets—you started moving closer to her. abby could not seem to remember how to control a single muscle in her body, so she just sat and watched you move closer as her cheeks grew pinker and pinker. 

you stop right in front of her face, the tips of your noses kissing and your breaths shared. after a few seconds, you realized abby wouldn't initiate anything, so you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers, short and sweet. when you pulled away, abby's eyes remained closed for a few seconds before they slowly fluttered open. 

"you just kissed me," abby whispers in disbelief, pointing out the obvious. 

"i just kissed you," you echo back. 

it's abby who leans in for the second kiss, thick and intense with emotion, her hand sliding up your arm. her hand reaches the back of your neck, and she pulls you closer and deepens the kiss. 

you press your forehead to hers and stop kissing her, an infectious smile taking up your features instead. 

"are you.. are you seriously smiling right now?" abby gasps theatrically with mock offense. 

your smile breaks out into giggles and you press your face into her cheek to hide. 

"wow, i cannot believe this. you are laughing at our kiss!" she teases. 

"stop, no i’m not!" you plead, still laughing. 

"whatever you say." she grabs your chin between her fingers and pulls your face back to look at you. peppering kisses on your cheeks, she relents on her taunting.  

"are you gonna show me what i did wrong, or what?" she says, referring to the initial topic of her paper elephant. 

you smile back at her. "yeah, i will." 

"okay." she presses one last kiss to your temple and then waits for your instruction. 

"i was saying, there's supposed to be a crease here, on what'll be the back of the elephant." 

abby nods and hums like she's listening, but really, she smiles at your profile as you continue to speak. 

@abbysbug @abbyonmars @abigails-gf @picklesarenice69

heheheh all done!!!! this was so cute to write especially the end like i was talking to @abbyonmars while i wrote the end and we were fangirling over typed words and pixels. but what else is tumblr dot com for if not to fangirl!!!!

[peachdues]

HEARTBALM

Kyojuro x Reader (modern AU NSFW)

A/N: I have COVID brain fog and it shows. You legally can't hold how bad this is against me. But if you somehow like it, likes/reblogs/comments, always appreciated! I promise I'm saving Netherwood for when I've recovered lmao.

This is like a Frankenstein-fulfillment request of several of my 2K event requests. So if you asked for Kyojuro and any of the prompts involving “please let me cum in you” or “woah, woah, I’m here. I’m right here,” congrats! This is for you. I’m sorry it’s ass.

CW: angry/possessive Kyojuro • mentions of toxic/slightly verbally abusive ex boyfriend • ex boyfriend gets decked • explicit sexual content • breeding kink • creampies • car sex • MDNI.

Everything was too loud and too close. You swore you felt a dozen pairs of eyes burning holes into you with such intensity that you were surprised you were still standing, rather than folding over like a piece of Swiss cheese. The judgment in their gazes felt like a blade against your throat, the cold sting imploring you to fold, to disappear.

There was no air in your lungs, so before you could choke in front of all of your ex-boyfriend’s cronies and friends, you turned and did as cowards did; you ran.

You pushed and shoved your way through the thick crush of bodies that had gathered in this small, off-campus house for the last party of the semester, the last chance for them all to let loose before their lives became a flurry of final exams and papers and discarded coffee cups in dimply lit corners of the campus library. You’d thought it would be your chance to relax, too, after the hair-pulling stress that had been the last month and a half of your life. Stress, that had been expounded upon by the simpering, smarmy asshole you’d once called your boyfriend, who now stared after your retreating form with a vicious grin, apparently pleased to have gotten under his former girlfriend’s skin once more.

There was a buzzing beneath your skin that would not quiet, that seemed to only grow hotter and more incessant as you navigated the maze of bodies and tables set for beer pong in this labyrinth of college-aged debauchery. In the three minutes you’d been darting and ducking around what had to be half of the Ubayashiki University student body, you’d not seen a friendly or familiar face once.

Where was Kyojuro?

You needed to find your sun. You needed your kind, supportive, and steadfast best friend who’d been glued to your side ever since freshman orientation, when you’d shyly approached him and asked if you could eat lunch beside him, feeling too nervous to risk approaching anyone else. He’d laughed, warm and welcoming, as he made room at his table for you, welcoming you with such sincerity and kindness that it was no wonder that you and so many others were drawn to him.

And though Kyojuro treated almost everyone as though they’d been best friends for years, you had been the only one in your orientation group that he’d allowed to truly get to know him. Whether it was during a morning stroll through the campus green as you made your way to your early morning classes, or pressed up against the greasy wall of the grill as you waited for the fry cook to call out your orders, the walls Kyojuro had so carefully crafted to conceal the tempest of passion and fire that raged beneath his dazzling smiles and loud, booming laughs began to peel back, and you saw him for what he truly was.

Truthfully, the more he showed you, the more you wanted; he was a riddle you would never tire of working out, a puzzle you hoped never to solve, even as the pieces fell faster and faster into place.

As your circle of friends grew, your bond only strengthened. It was Kyojuro you called when you found out your beloved childhood dog passed away, hardly able to speak through the tears as they streamed down your face. It was Kyojuro who had all but sprinted from his residence hall to yours, well across campus, with three pints of your favorite ice cream in tow, and who’d let you eat your fill until your stomach was full and the emptiness in your heart had subsided.

And it was you who Kyojuro had called to come join him as he’d smoked a rare cigarette, hands shaking with both his hurt and his anger after a particularly nasty call from his father.

And yet, you’d never dated; you’d never escalated your friendship beyond a few, charged moments that had been marked only by a series of almost and never anything completed.

He wasn’t a fan of your ex-boyfriend; that much he’d made clear. Though Kyojuro had never been one to be unkind towards anyone, you hadn’t missed the way his eyes tightened any time your ex let a door slam in your face or ignored your hand in favor of his phone. Kyojuro hadn’t been shy to let you know that he thought you deserved better – far better.

You’d wanted to ask him whether he thought better was with him, because you knew deep in your heart, if he asked, you would be his; but you never built up the courage to ask, and so you quashed these feelings down deep, hiding them away in a locked chest never to be opened.

Then, you’d finally broken up with your ex only a month prior after discovering he’d cheated on you with no shortage of other students on campus, everyone but you apparently having been in on the cruel joke. Kyojuro had been one of the few steadfastly in your corner, insistent that you’d done nothing wrong, no matter how many times your ex tried to claim you’d pushed him into sleeping with half the student body.

You hadn’t seen your ex, not since you’d coolly told him the pair of you were over, all those weeks ago; not until tonight, when you’d nearly smashed into him while trying to get a drink from the makeshift bar in this strange house you’d never been in.

“Well, well,” your ex-boyfriend had crooned, hand gripping your elbow and keeping you trapped there with him and his smirking pack of hyenas looking at you like you were something to devour. “Did you miss me that much, gorgeous?”

“Get off me,” you’d tried to growl, though the slight wobble in your voice defeated any attempt of yours to be threatening, instead leaving you to come off as a scared little girl, cornered somewhere she shouldn’t have been.

Your ex’s eyes were malicious as they raked over you. “Did you wear that for me, darling?”

He was referring to the red sundress you’d worn, the one you knew made your curves look downright sumptuous, but now you felt like it was a neon sign that read “HARASS ME,” given the hunger in your ex’s eyes that sent your skin crawling. You’d worn it for yourself, to feel confident, only now, you felt like a piece of fruit ripe for plucking, and you’d somehow fallen into the greediest hands on campus.

By divine luck, your ex’s grip on your forearm loosened and you yanked back out of his reach, forgoing the red plastic cup containing whatever grotesque combination of alcohol the party hosts had come up with in favor of putting as much distance as possible between yourself and your ex.

You’d come with Kyojuro and your friend Tengen, but now you couldn’t find either and it only made you feel more lost; more vulnerable. There was a buzzing in your ears that drowned out the pounding base of the music thumping through the blown-out speakers haphazardly set up in the house’s den. Your vision tunneled, and you wondered whether anyone would notice if you dropped to the floor and screamed; if anyone would care.

Stumbling blindly, you smashed into something warm and sold, and it sent you staggering backward.

“Sorry, sorry,” you mumbled, eyes still wide and unfocused as you moved to push past whatever or whomever you’d smacked into, uncaring at the way your torment was surely etched into your face.

“Woah, hey, hey,” a warm hand closed around your arm as you tried to shove past the body, steadying you, locking you into place. “Y/N, look at me.”

The familiarity of the voice and the touch did not register, and you only continued to shake your head, muttering your apologies.

“Woah, woah, woah. I’m here. I’m right here.” Kyojuro caught you by the arm as you tried once more to shove past him in your haste the leave the party you’d stupidly decided to attend. A hand gripped your chin and firmly but gently turned your head up to meet a pair of ochre eyes, running over you in concern.

“Kyo,” you breathed in relief, feeling yourself melt slightly beneath the steadying warmth of your best friend.

Kyojuro’s mouth was set in a hard line. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

You uttered the name of your insufferable ex and Kyojuro’s eyes darkened. “What did he do?”

His hand gripped yours and you were grateful for the way it helped anchor you and kept you from spinning out under the anxious whirlwind of your thoughts. “Nothing, he’s just being an asshole – please, Kyo, can we leave?”

You felt slightly guilty – after all, it was you who’d suggested you all come to this party in the first place, and now you were the one wanting to leave less than an hour later, but it was too much. Surely, your best friend wouldn’t hold your fickleness so terribly against you, not when it wasn’t your fault in the first place that you’d been sent careening toward an anxiety attack.

Kyojuro didn’t hesitate as he nodded. “Just let me find Tengen and I’ll let him know. I’ll drive you home.”

You smiled faintly in relief, squeezing his hand appreciatively before letting him go. The way Kyojuro’s fingers had lingered against yours had made your heart flutter, chasing away thoughts of him, your ex, and replacing them with a shy curiosity that made you want to know what those fingers would feel like if they touched other parts of you.

Or, it may have been the little alcohol you’d ingested coloring your thoughts; after all, you’d hardly eaten that day in preparation for getting properly soused at the party you now were so desperate to leave.

You retreated into the kitchen, near the open door that led out to a finished, in-ground pool in which several other attendees were already swimming, some without clothes on, too lost in whatever beverage or drug they’d ingested to care. You’d thought yourself safe, amidst a crowd of admittedly drunk party-goers, but it seemed not even the threat of onlookers would keep your abrasive ex at bay.

A hand grazed your rear end, and it sent every hair on your body standing. “Why in such a rush to leave, gorgeous?” A sickeningly familiar voice purred in your ear.

You spat your ex’s name with as much vitriol as you could muster as you turned to face him. “I told you not to fucking touch me.”

Your ex placed a hand mockingly against the wall, next to your head as he leaned in close. “What’s wrong, baby?” His breath was rank with the stench of stale alcohol, and it made your stomach churn. “You used to like being manhandled.”

Your face hardened. “Not by you; not anymore.” You swatted his hand away from where he’d boxed you in, eager to put this party and him behind you, where they belonged. “Now, if you’ll excuse me –”

Your ex’s hand seized around your wrist, its grip tight – too tight. “Just hold on, you haughty little thing,” his tone was kept light but the look on his face was menacing. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

You pulled at the hold he had on you but to no avail. Though you were surrounded by other party attendees, you felt alone, more isolated than ever, as countless eyes pointedly ignored your struggle. You were about to open your mouth, to shout, to curse your ex out, when your ex’s hand suddenly released your arm.

“Take your fucking hands off of her.”

Wide-eyed, you looked to see Kyojuro’s considerable fist wrapped tightly around your ex’s forearm, its size dwarfing the limb beneath to look like a mere twig. Kyojuro’s eyes, normally so inviting and open, had gone hard and black, his jaw stiff with his ire. Though the cold rage contorting your best friend’s face was not directed at you, its sudden manifestation from your otherwise sunny, warm, and gentle friend made you recoil.

“Kyo,” you started, voice low in warning as your eyes darted between the lethal anger simmering on Kyojuro’s face and the infuriatingly smug look on your ex’s, as he smirked at the burly blonde.

“I don’t think this concerns you, Rengoku,” your former boyfriend simpered, a challenge lighting his eyes as he jerked his chin towards you. “This is between me and her, pure and simple.”

Desperately, you glanced around the room hoping to find any of your other friends who could step in, who could intervene before things turned too ugly. Mercifully, you locked eyes with Tengen, who was just on the other side of the pool, grabbing another drink. Eyes wide, you looked back and forth between Kyojuro and your silver-haired friend, hoping he understood your silent plea.

A curt nod from your friend communicated he had, and Tengen quickly began pushing through the throng of people who had begun to coalesce around the edge of the pool as they watched the pair of men engaged in a stare-off beside you.

Kyojuro raised his head slightly, looking down upon the man you used to claim to love in disgust. “Any yet she told you to leave her alone. Are we having listening problems?”

A sardonic smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Perhaps I can help you with that.”

Your ex’s eyes cut back to you, a sneer curling his lip. “Figures,” he spat, his tone full of acid. “Not even a month broken up and you’ve already spread your legs for him like a fuckin’ whore.”

There was a collective intake of breath from the surrounding spectators as Kyojuro stepped closer to your seething ex, their noses nearly touching as he held his stare.

“Say it again,” Kyojuro said quietly, all traces of that mocking smirk long-gone, replaced only by a malicious glint in his eyes that promised swift violence that had your hand jumping to grip his arm in warning. “Go on.”

Your weak tugs at Kyojuro’s bicep did little to divert his attention. For one, terrifying moment, you feared that blows were imminent, until a painted hand shoved between the two men, pushing Kyojuro back by his chest.

Tengen.

“As much as I hate to break up the fun, I’m sure you don’t want the entire school witnessing you getting your face pounded in,” The silver-haired senior said coolly to your drunk ex.

Kyojuro allowed himself to be pushed back by his friend, though he refused to break the tense stare he held with the man he’d marked as his opponent. “We can work this out anytime, it doesn’t have to be here,” he taunted with a jeering smirk. “But stay the fuck away from her.”

“Don’t try and fucking tell me how to talk to my ex-girlfriend,” your former lover spat, taking an unsteady step towards the three of you. “Why’re you standing up for the bitch, anyways? The whore has kept stringing you along for god knows how long without putting out –“

His drunken ramblings were cut off by a sickening crunch of bones beneath a fist that seemed to echo through the crowded backyard. Onlookers stared in shock as your ex staggered back, hands flying to staunch the crimson now coursing from his broken nose, curses thick and garbled slipping from his mouth as it filled with blood.

“Shit.” Tengen breathed, his eyes wide.

A dozen pair of eyes turned towards you and your best friend, round with shock as an uncomfortable buzz settled into the thick, night air. Kyojuro was panting, the skin of his knuckles stained with blood from his split skin and that of your ex’s as he stared at your flame-haired friend.

“I warned you,” Kyojuro’s tone was almost jovial but its cheerfulness was undercut by his glower. “Watch your fucking language when speaking about a lady.”

Your hand clenched at his bicep once more. “Kyojuro, let’s go.”

Your tone snapped him out of whatever cold rage in which he’d been simmering and his amber eyes lifted to meet yours. You did not wait for him to follow as you turned sharply on your heel and stormed out of the house, eyes resolutely focused on the door in order to avoid acknowledging the way dozens of pairs of eyes followed your every step.

---

Your feet hit the pavement of the street outside, the night air cool on your heated skin. You heard the steady beat of your friend’s footsteps behind you, and you whipped around, eyes blazing, and blood boiling.

“What the fuck was that?” You hissed once the two of you were far enough away from the party and any nosy on-lookers as you stalked toward Kyojuro’s car. “Were you trying to get yourself arrested?”

Kyojuro did not answer, the scowl on his face turning into something menacing beneath the flickering lamps lining the crowded street.

“I was handling it just fine, you know, but you had to step in and turn it into a fucking pissing contest –”

“Stop talking, Y/N.” Kyojuro finally snapped, his voice a low growl.

You only seethed. “Who the fuck do you think you are –?”

Your fiery companion only placed a hand firmly at the small of your back and pushed you forward, your feet nearly stumbling to keep yourself upright as he guided you towards your car.

“Kyojuro –” you began, testily.

“Shut up, Y/N.” He cut you off severely. “Just – be quiet and get in the fucking car.”

Something about his tone coupled with the stormy look on his face quieted any further protest you may have had, and you allowed him to forcefully guide you to his car. Kyojuro wrenched the door open and pushed you down into the passenger seat, even taking the time to fasten your seatbelt for you, the brush of his hand against your waist searing into you in a way that made you squirm.

As embarrassing as you found it, you could not deny that your friend’s protectiveness over you stoked something hot and molten in your gut; made your thighs rub together, as your stomach fluttered.

Kyojuro was silent as he drove, the air between you cackling with electricity.

“Have you calmed down?” You asked sarcastically after several minutes of tense silence, unable to stomach the quiet any longer.

Kyojuro’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “I can’t believe you dated something like that,” he ground out, eyes fixed hard on the road ahead of him. “The way he spoke to you just now – that doesn’t come out of nowhere.”

You fidgeted in your seat, fingers playing with the band of the seatbelt as the weight of Kyojuro’s accusation settled.

“That wasn’t the first time, was it?”

Your shoulders curled inward, and you suddenly felt like a cornered animal; you resented him for it. “What does it matter, now? We’re done. It’s over, and I’m not going back.”

Kyojuro pulled sharply off an exit, following a bumpy road to a quiet, darkened overlook that abutted a state park. He stopped the car, slamming it into park as his hands remained tightly curled around the steering wheel, his breath hard and fast in his nose.

“Why did you date him?” His tone was almost accusatory. “He was an asshole from the start, and yet you dated him for almost a year.”

You bit your lip and Kyojuro’s eyes followed the movement closely. “Because I wasn’t sure of another’s feelings.”

Kyojuro exhaled sharply, turning his body more towards you, his eyes locked onto you with searing intensity. “And this other – did you ever confess your true feelings?”

You hesitated for only a moment, shaking your head slightly. You chanced lifting your gaze up to meet his, gulping slightly at the heat which you found there.

There was a beat, and then the two of you surged towards one another over the center console of his car, drawn to one another like a pair of magnets. Your mouths met in a fiery clash of lips and teeth, Kyojuro’s tongue sliding seamlessly into your mouth to dance with yours. His hand rose to tangle in your hare, ensnaring you against him and his fervid touch and desperate lips.

He moaned your name against feverish kisses, his lips only breaking from yours to dance across your jaw, your neck, any part of you he could reach.

He wasn’t close enough; you tugged at the collar of his button down, trying to pull him atop you, to feel if his chiseled body felt as rock-solid as you’d always imagined.

“You’re impatient,” he chuckled against your throat as he sucked his mark into your skin. “Do you want me to keep going?”

Your fingers, buried deep in his flame-colored hair, tugged, insistent. “Yes. Don’t you dare stop now.”

Warm hands gripped your waist and hauled you up out of your seat. Somehow, you were folded in just the right position to be passed over the console of his car, and Kyojuro swiftly tossed you into the back seat of his car. As you panted for breath, the skirt of your sundress rising high up your thighs, Kyojuro clambered over his own seat to join you, pinning you half between the backseat and the car door.

Before he reconnected your lips, Kyojuro’s hands found his way under you once more, deftly maneuvering you until it was he who sat against the backseat of his car, and you were straddled in his lap, chest heaving and cheeks pink.

“Was this your goal?” You teased, and to your delight, you felt something hard begin to press into your groin as your breath mixed with his, a slight fog beginning to condense on the windows. “To have me at your mercy?”

Kyojuro leaned up slightly, brushing his lips against the fluttering pulse point in your neck, smirking against your skin. “If you’re asking whether I took you out of the party with this in mind, then no,”

His hands smoothed up and down your sides before sliding behind you to squeeze your ass, rubbing firmly as he rolled his hips up into yours.

“But if you’re asking if I’ve planned to have you this way at all… then I would say,” he cut himself off as he kissed his way back to your lips, holding back the tantalizing feel of his mouth against yours for a fraction of a second. “That has always been my goal, beautiful. From the moment I first laid eyes on you.”

He kissed you softly then, teeth lightly nipping at your lower lip before he pulled away once more to look over you.

“But I want far more from you, if you’re willing to give it.”

Your heart fluttered in your throat as your legs clenched. You knew there were several meanings to his words — both in terms of the physical and with regard to your long-term relationship.

You settled on his lap, arms looping around his neck as your breath mixed with his, anticipation fluttering in your stomach.

“Kiss me, Kyo.” You whispered, your eyes lowering to his lips.

He regarded you with a half-lidded, lust-filled expression of his own. “Where?”

Your fingers wound in his hair, pulling softly in a way that made him moan. “Everywhere.”

Sturdy yet nimble fingers worked their way up to the buttons on the bodice of your sundress, undoing them with a swiftness you’d not realized he possessed.

The last button undone, Kyojuro brought his hands to the loosened folds of your sundress and pushed them aside, warm hands grazing the sensitive skin beneath.

“Christ, woman,” he groaned as your bare breasts were revealed to him. “You’re killing me.”

You giggled, inwardly glad you’d forsaken wearing a bra beneath the dress, though you certainly hadn’t intended to wind up like this — perched in your best friend’s lap, his growing bulge digging into the sensitive spot between your legs as he leaned in to take one pert nipple into his hot mouth, his hand covering the other breast and rolling it beneath his fingers.

Not a single part of you could bring yourself to regret the decision, however, not as Kyojuro’s teeth grazed your sensitive bud, your head falling back as you pressed your chest against his face, begging him for more.

Kyojuro moaned against your breast, his hand steadily working the other as he nipped and sucked at you, covering your chest in splotches of purple and red, your skin bearing the mark of his teeth as he claimed you.

You ground down against the rigid bulge nestled between your thighs, breath hitching as he pressed against that sensitive spot between your legs, causing a rush of your fluid to surge forth and coat the flimsy lace of your thong.

If you weren’t careful, you’d risk leaving evidence of your desire smeared right on the front seam of his pants. But if Kyojuro cared, he certainly didn’t show it as his free arm looped around your waist to push you down, forcing your groin to mash tightly against his.

Your hands moved desperately down Kyojuro’s front as his mouth continued to work your breasts, until they reached the top of his pants. You fumbled with his belt, determined to loosen it and free the hardened bulge straining against the crotch of his pants.

“You’re so,” Kyojuro panted, his hips twitching up against your touch. “Eager, my flame.”

Your ears perked at the affectionate nickname. “Your flame?” Your lips swept to the side to suck at the side of his neck.

Kyojuro’s head tilted to the side, allowing you more access as he pressed you harder into his face. “Yes, my flame,” he nipped lightly at your pert nipple, just as his fingers slid between your thighs to dance along the sensitive skin between your leg and hip. “Because you make me burn.”

His fingers grazed the front of your thong and Kyojuro groaned at the wetness he felt seeping through the thin lace.You nearly hissed at the contact, grinding yourself against his fingers, beseeching your best friend to give you more, to touch you where you needed him most.

“Kyo,” you whined, head falling back.

“Oh fuck,” Kyojuro slid two fingers beneath the crotch of your underwear, dragging them right up your drenched slit. “You’re wet — so fucking wet.”

“I just want to slide right in,” your friend teased, and his fingers easily breached your entrance, working deep into your opening as you mewled for him. “I bet you could take me just like this.” 

His thumb brushed against your clit as his index and middle finger worked your core, making you stiffen stop him as your breath labored. Kyojuro swore again as he curled his fingers upward, feeling the way your velvet walls clenched around him.

“K-Kyo!” You gasped. “I can’t wait — I need you. Need you now.”

“Then I guess we agree,” Kyojuro growled against your lips as he shifted you beneath him. “Because I can’t wait to be inside you, either.”

Kyojuro spread you out beneath him, against the worn cloth of his backseat. He fumbled above you, trying to contort his large body in the small, cramped space of the back of his car.

His hands moved to loosen his belt and shove the tops of his pants and briefs down his hips, just far enough to let his leaking, stiffened cock spring forth, its tip smacking against his belly. Your mouth watered at the sight, at the thickness of his length, far more than you’d ever encountered before.

Kyojuro smirked at the awe on your face. “Trust I know how to use it, too.”

You flushed dark at the boldness with which he spoke, though your voice somehow remained steady. “Then prove it.”

Kyojuro covered you with a low growl, his hands flipping the skirt of your dress out of the way as his fingers slid your thong down your legs, chucking it to the side. He tugged you forward over the seat, a buckle of a seatbelt digging somewhat uncomfortably into your back, though that discomfort was quickly chased away as Kyojuro lined himself up with your entrance and pulled you sharply down, impaling you on his rigid length.

Your scream choked off in your throat as he shifted to press one leg up against the back rest of the seat and used his hands to hold your other open, keeping you spread wide for him. His thrusts were wild and frenzied, though his motions were somewhat limited by the spatial constraints of the backseat of his car. You didn’t care, however; not as his cock pistoned into you so deeply, you swore you saw stars; not as his coarse base ground against your sensitive clit, Kyojuro’s name falling in a repeated whine from your lips.

Kyojuro tried to brace his feet against the rear door for leverage for his thrusts, but each haphazard movement only caused him to grow more frustrated.

He tried to distract himself by pressing his lips bruisingly against yours, but it was not enough. Your flame-haired friend slammed his hand against the roof of his car in frustration.

“Fuck this,” he growled against your lips before he pulled out of you and away. You whined at the loss of his body heat, so warm and all-consuming. The ache between your legs had become nearly maddening as the empty walls of your core now clenched around nothing.

Even in the dark, Kyojuro’s eyes glowed, like pools of molten ore threatening to burn you with their heat as he reached blindly behind him and jerked on the handle of the car door, using his foot to kick it open.

He slid out, his stiffened cock still standing proudly above the loosened waistband of his pants as he rose to his full height. Reaching back into the car, Kyojuro wrapped his strong, warm hands around your knees and tugged you across the backseat toward him until your ass was on the edge of the seat, your legs dangling outside the door, toes just grazing the gravel below.

“Wrap your legs around me,” Kyojuro’s voice was harsh yet commanding, and your compliance was automatic. Your legs instantly wound around his waist, locking at the ankles against his lower back.

His hands then dipped below where you still lay against the worn seat of his car, splaying across your back. His grip secure, Kyojuro hauled you up and out of the back seat, his arms readjusting his hold as his hands came to rest under the skirt of your sundress, fingers kneading the fleshy curve of your ass.

You decided you’d gone far too long without his lips against yours, and so with a needy moan, you slanted her mouth back over his, sighing happily into him as his lips parted to allow your tongue to sweep in and glide alongside his.

So intoxicated were you by his kiss that you did not realize Kyojuro had walked you around to the front of his car, his headlights still beaming bright through the dark of the night air. A startled gasp broke your kiss at the warm press of metal against your back as Kyojuro laid you over the front hood of his car. Your cry of surprise did not seem to faze him, for Kyojuro only moved his lips to sweep across your neck with needy, open-mouthed kisses.

“Much better,” he grunted against your skin, his tongue flicking out against the hollow of your throat.

“K-Kyo!” You hissed, though you found it difficult to actually feel irritated toward the fiery blonde pressing you against the hood of his car – especially given the way his hips ground and bucked against yours. “We’re in the open!”

Kyojuro’s mouth pulled off your neck with a groan as he lifted his head to glare down at you as you panted and blushed beneath him. A hand reached between your bodies to grip the base of his cock, and your eyes nearly rolled back into your skull as you felt Kyojuro begin to drag the leaking head of his length up and down your slick folds, teasing.

“If I’m going to fuck you, I’m going to do it the way I want,” he warned, his voice roughened by raw desire. “I’m not letting myself be held back by a damn car seat.”

Any protestation or witty response you could have lobbed back at him died on your lips as Kyojuro pressed the tip of his cock firmly against your clit. Your head fell back against the hood of the car with a cry, your hips bucking up against his, begging him to take you and end the torment between your legs.

“I don’t want to hear a fucking word out of you that isn’t my name or how good my cock feels, got it?” Kyojuro bent low and took your nipple between his teeth, sucking at it harshly. “Answer me.”

A thumb and a forefinger replaced the head of Kyojuro’s erect length at your clit and squeezed once, in warning.

“Yes!” You yelped, your thighs tightening around his hips in a desperate but futile attempt to clench shut. “I understand – Kyo, please –”

Your begging was cut off with a scream as Kyojuro sheathed himself back into your dripping heat in a single, fluid stroke. Before you could catch your breath, Kyojuro began circling his hips, rolling them heavily against yours.

“That’s it, baby, just feel me,” He murmured, teeth grazing the sensitive shell of your ear.  “God, you feel like fucking heaven.”

“Kyojuro,” you moaned, your eyes rolling heavily back into your skull. “Oh god, more –”

Kyojuro’s answering groans were loud and unrestrained, tempered only by the squeak of his car hood as he brought one knee up to rest upon it, bearing more of his weight down upon you as his thrusts grew harder and harder.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his eyes shut tight. “Fuck, I can’t get enough, I need more –”

His hands gripped your hips with a bruising force as he tiled them further, tugging you flush against his groin with your backside nearly suspended above the car hood. Your moans melted into loud, high-pitched cries as you thrashed against the front of the car, the heels of your feet digging deeper into the steel of Kyojuro’s backside to press him closer, deeper into your velvet heat.

The new angle allowed Kyojuro’s cock to reach parts of you you hadn’t known could be explored, stretching you in ways you hadn’t realized could be stretched. How you’d managed to go so long without knowing the euphoric bliss that was Kyojuro’s body was a mystery you weren’t sure even the most revered philosopher could solve. All you knew, however, as the thick tip of Kyojuro’s cock pressed against something so deep within you it made your eyes roll back and your jaw slacken until drool leaked from the corner of your mouth, was that you could never have anyone else. No one would ever be capable of fucking you the way Kyojuro was right then, and you didn’t think you’d even allow them to try.

Despite your brain having been largely reduced to a puddle of gray matter in your skull with every lurid drag and push of Kyojuro’s cock into your soaked cunt, you forced your mouth to form a single, desperate command.

“More,” you begged, the word slurring off your tongue, breaking up the series of nonsensical babbles that had poured from your mouth the minute Kyojuro decided to mold your insides to the shape of him. “More.”  

“Jesus fuck,” Kyojuro’s jaw was clenched tight enough to crack his teeth, sweat running down his neck and sliding between the mass of his pectorals.

Broad hands slid to the back of your thighs and pushed them up and back until your knees kissed the hood of his car. The new angle allowed Kyojuro to pound even deeper into you, though it simultaneously rendered you utterly helpless to accept the battering of his cock as it rammed so far into you, you swore he would bruise your organs before the night was over.

The new position meant that Kyojuro’s base was pressed flush against your clit, the coarse hair of his groin circling against your sensitive nub as your own slick gathered, making a mess between where the two of you were joined. The stimulation made your toes curl, even as your feet flopped helplessly against Kyojuro’s broad back.

Whatever coil you felt winding tight in your gut, Kyojuro felt gathering as well, given the whimpers and moans that lilted from his lips in strings, his lips working a frenzy against whatever part of you he could reach.

“P-please, Y/N,” his voice broke through the pleasured haze in which you’d found yourself floating as you plummeted back down to earth; to him. “Please let me cum in you. Please.”

“God fucking – please,” Kyojuro groaned, his voice cracking under the weight of his desperation. “I need to fill you. I need it, I need it.”

You didn’t doubt the sincerity of his need; the dull thwap of Kyojuro’s heavy balls against the underside of your ass made it clear your friend was pent up, and desperate to find his release. And that release wouldn’t be nearly as pleasurable if he was forced to waste it over your stomach or breasts as it would be if you allowed him to fill you to your brim.

The answer was easy. “Y-yes,” you found your voice after a moment, though it came out as more of a squeak. “Give it to me, Kyo, please!”

Kyojuro’s lascivious groans deepened, the sounds falling from his mouth more akin to shouts of pleasure. His pace quickened though his rhythm grew sloppier. Kyojuro brought the leg still anchored to the ground up onto the hood of the car and positioned himself in a kneel, spreading his thighs wide and allowing his hips to weigh down heavily against yours as he pinned you in place, rolling into your heat.

“Fill me up, make me yours!” You were babbling now, half-delirious with pleasure and over-stimulation as you felt your orgasm build, the tight coiling in your belly promising to unleash the most powerful climax you’d ever had. “N-no one else has – no one else has – ngh – finished inside!”

A warm hand slid up to your throat and squeezed lightly as Kyojuro’s hips snapped against yours, his groans quieting to mere vibrations in his chest. “Not even – fuck – him?”

You didn’t need to ask him to clarify. “Never!” You gasped, limbs turning to liquid against the light pressure he applied against the sides of your throat. “Only yours – only yours to f-fill!”

Your affirmation made Kyojuro shudder violently above you, and before you knew it, Kyojuro was spilling forth within your core, giving you every drop of his hot seed as his hips rolled heavily into yours.

A broad hand slid down from your throat to rest against the bottom of your stomach and pressed down.

“Take it,” Kyojuro somehow had the presence of mind to speak, even deep in the throes of his climax. “F-feel how much I’m filling you up – oh fuck.”

You could. The weight of his hand against your lower belly pressed your front wall against the spurting tip of his cock as he unloaded deep within your core. And it was precisely because of the way you could feel him painting the inside of your walls that you felt yourself tip over your edge, that coil in your belly not merely unwinding, but breaking wide open.

With a sharp cry, you came, a rush of your sticky pleasure spurting forth from you and soaking Kyojuro’s lower abdomen and groin as he continued to pump into you, every twist and churn of his base against your clit only prolonging the sweet, torturous pleasure you felt as you screamed for him.

Kyojuro’s high finally ceased, as did yours, but that did not stop your flame-haired friend from continuing to pump into you, as though chasing yet another dizzying high.

“Kyo,” your cry was shrill was your nails sunk into the ropey muscle of your best friend’s back, your teeth gritting against the flicker of overstimulation flaring to life as Kyojuro’s rough base continued to grind right against your clit.

“I’m sorry, my flame,” and to your shock, you noted the desperate whine in his tone. “I can’t stop, I need more – c-can’t stop –”

You felt his cum squelching over where you remained connected, its sticky warmth dribbling down your inner thighs as Kyojuro continued to plunge his still-erect length in and out of your full cunt.

“I want to get you pregnant,” Kyojuro confessed, his eyes burning as they flicked between where he appeared and disappeared inside you, to the way your tits bounced with each of his punishing thrusts, and back to your face. “I’ve been dreaming about it since I met you.”

“C-can’t tell you h-how many times I’ve imagined filling you with my seed until – fuck – you’re carrying my child.”

Some small, rational part of your brain genuinely did not know whether he was serious, and an even smaller part was baffled that you couldn’t find it within yourself to care one way or the other. The only reaction you gave him, instead, was a struggle of your legs against his grasp until he allowed you to wrap them around his hips to hold him close as he chased his second release of the night.

“Tell me you don’t want it, and I’ll pull out,” Kyojuro grunted, though, with the way he continued to thrust even harder into you, you doubted his ability to do so. “Just say the word.”

Admittedly, it was probably too late to worry about that, given that you could still feel the traces of his cum trickling out of you as he continued to ram his length into your spent core. But even if that ship hadn’t yet sailed, you knew you could not let him pull out; could never, not when he made you feel this good.

“Don’t you dare pull – ah – pull out,” you managed, legs tightening around his hips to keep him pinned against you. “I want it – I need it, Kyojuro. Give it to me.”

Your words were enough. With a strangled shout, Kyojuro came once more, his excess cum leaking out of your stuffed cunt, its hot stickiness trickling between your cheeks and pooling on the car hood beneath you, staining faded red with milky white. The cant of Kyojuro’s hips still did not cease as he continued fucking his seed right back into you, and you could do nothing but spread your thighs wider and accept it, mewling softly with your lips against his collarbone.

Kyojuro remained tense above you for several more seconds before he relaxed, his weight pressing you fully against the car hood as he collapsed against you. You both remained quiet for a moment, working to catch your breath.

“Are you alright?” your friend breathed after a moment, nuzzling your sweat-slickened neck affectionately.

You nodded, unable to stop the wide grin which formed on your face. “One would think you’d been waiting a long time to do that, Kyojuro,” you teased, arching your neck to expose more of your throat as his lips traced delicately across it.

“And if I have?” He murmured, pausing to suck lightly on the sensitive skin below your ear. “What would you say then?”

You threaded your fingers through unruly, golden hair and tugged lightly, pulling his face from the dip in your neck so that he would meet your eyes.

“I would say,” you began seriously, suppressing a giggle at the way Kyojuro’s eyebrows furrowed. “That you should probably take me home, then, because I’m not nearly done with you.”

Your fiery friend answered with a growl, low and deep in his chest as he rolled his hips into yours once more, his cock twitching back to life.

Instead of pressing you back against his car, Kyojuro instead flipped you to your stomach, your breasts smushing against the windshield of his car, the sweat clinging to your skin certain to leave behind a lewd outline of your body against the glass.

“You should probably buckle up then, my flame,” he said with a dark chuckle. “Because I’m afraid I can’t wait until I get you into my bed to have you yet again.”

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

the old college try

pairing: frat dad!joel miller x college student!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 5.1k

summary:

Family Weekend, or DILF Day as you and your friends like to refer to it, is when the University of Texas encourages the parents and families of its student body to visit the school and participate in activities that the Division of Student Affairs has organized. The fraternities and sororities have their own schedule that includes not-so-sanctioned house parties on frat row following the game. It’s your senior year and your last DILF Day so you’re hoping to go out with a bang. Literally. Enter Joel Miller, handsome single dad visiting his son at the Theta Lambda Upsilon fraternity house.

dear reader:

this is an extremely self-indulgent fic that i just had to write, so i hope you enjoy it! if you do, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging <3

content warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), alternate universe - no outbreak/no sarah, age difference (42M and 23F), dub con - sex under the influence of alcohol, no use of y/n, frat party stereotypes, keg stands and beer pong, semi-public sex (frat bathroom), mild daddy kink (not during sex), p in v, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, cheesy dad jokes, the university of texas as a plot device. please let me know if any are missing!

You turn over in your bed with a deep groan, burying your face into your pillow. You reach your arm out from under the covers to grab your phone from the nightstand, smacking your hand around the wood surface until you find it and can bring it under the covers with you. Turning over, you tap the screen and squint at the series of unread text messages.

Ashley: Get up bitch! 

Ashley: It’s time to get ready!

Ashley: We’re going to be late if you don’t get up

Ashley: Don’t make me break into your apartment

Ashley: You know I can

You sit up quickly, shoving the blankets off of you and rushing to the front door, flipping the lock and pulling it open. Your best friend is across the threshold, knelt down on the ground with two bobby pins held up and her eyes wide in surprise.

“Aw man,” she laments, standing and brushing off her knees. “I wanted to test my skills.”

“I’m not paying to replace the lock,” you chastise, stepping back to let her in. “Sorry, overslept.”

“Figured. I’ll get your coffee started,” she replies, heading for your kitchen while you head back to your bedroom to start your morning routine. “Guess which frat is hosting the tailgate today?”

“Which one?” You shout from the bathroom as you run through your skincare routine.

“Theta Lambda Upsilon,” Ashley shouts back. The scent of brewing coffee paired with this excellent news has you perking up immediately. 

Your friend steps into your room with two mugs in her hands, passing one to you as you exit the bathroom and sit at your cluttered vanity, pushing aside products to make room to set your mug down. Ashley sits on your bed, folding her legs beneath her.

“The hottest frat hosting the tailgate and after party means we’ll get to see the hottest dads this weekend,” she says, shimmying her shoulders excitedly. “It’s simple genetics.”

“You dropped genetics. Remember? You couldn’t handle an 8 am class,” you say as you apply mascara. 

“I went to enough classes to know how a Punnett square works.”

You laugh, finishing your makeup between long sips of coffee. “It’s amazing you couldn’t tough it out through an early semester but give you an afternoon game and you’re trying to break into my apartment at the crack of dawn.”

“It’s DILF Day, baby. It’s like waking up on Christmas morning.”

Family Weekend, or DILF Day as you and your friends like to refer to it, is when the University of Texas encourages the parents and families of its student body to visit the school and participate in activities that the Division of Student Affairs has organized. The fraternities and sororities have their own schedule that includes not-so-sanctioned tailgates and house parties on frat row following the game.

As an out-of-state student, your parents have always skipped Family Weekend in exchange for buying your plane tickets back home for Thanksgiving and Christmas break, which leaves you with plenty of opportunity to ogle the hot dads that descend upon campus on this glorious weekend. You’ve never had the guts to actually pursue anything with anyone, but it’s your senior year and your last DILF Day so you’re hoping to go out with a bang.

Literally.

“What are you going to wear?” Ashley asks. 

“Shorts and that new tank top I got,” you reply, finishing your makeup with a pop of your lips after applying gloss. “And boots. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Ashley nods as you rifle through your closet for the outfit in question - denim cutoffs and orange Texas Longhorn tank top that hugs your curves and shows off the perfect amount of cleavage. Finishing the look with your worn brown cowgirl boots, you spin for your friend who gives you a thumbs up. “Sexy. I reckon’ this year you’ll catch yourself a DILF.”

You roll your eyes. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

Joel’s arm hangs out the truck’s open window, fingers tapping against the hot metal as he drives down the highway towards the Austin campus of the University of Texas. It’s Family Weekend and his son, Sean, started his sophomore semester at UT a few weeks prior and now lives in the Theta Lambda Upsilon fraternity house on campus after proving to Joel that he would take his classes seriously by doing well his freshman year. Joel’s always been close with his son as a single dad and the fact that Sean asked him to Family Weekend feels like a testament to that bond.

The campus is already bustling with the game day crowd, trucks parked in grassy areas along the road with their tailgates down, people setting up tents and tables and coolers. Joel drives slowly down the street until he’s turning down a side road and parking down the hidden drive his son had given him instructions to find. He hops from the truck, sneakers hitting the hot pavement and the sun already beating down on his arms as he makes his way towards the TLU house a couple blocks away. 

There’s a huge crowd of students and parents in shades of burnt orange and white on the front lawn of the two story fraternity house, red solo cups or cans of beer in hand. Joel looks around until he hears a familiar voice calling out, “Dad!”

Sean emerges from the crowd dressed in a white polo shirt with an orange Longhorn logo on the chest tucked into khaki pants, his curly brown hair slicked back with gel. Joel smiles, hugging his son and patting him on the back in greeting.

“Been ages since I saw you, kid. Have you gotten taller?” Joel asks.

Sean rolls his eyes. “You saw me last weekend!”

A voice calls out Sean’s name and the younger man throws an arm around Joel’s shoulders, dragging him along into the packed fraternity house. The scene inside is not unlike all the ones he’s seen in movies and TV shows - flags stuck to the walls as decor, a mysteriously sticky floor, and kitchen countertops filled with booze. Sean stops and grabs a red plastic cup, handing it to Joel. 

“Pick your poison,” Sean instructs, grabbing his own cup. Joel raises an eyebrow at him.

“Last I checked, you weren’t twenty-one,” he chastises, earning him another eye roll. 

“Like you didn’t know Uncle Tommy was buying me beer when I was a senior.”

“He what?” Joel asks, though the question is lost in the noise as Sean leads him to an impressive back deck hosting a beer pong table and two kegs nestled in plastic trash cans and surrounded by ice. 

Sean slips into the crowd surrounding the kegs, taking Joel’s cup from his hands, pumping the tap and filling each cup with ice cold beer, handing one to Joel. 

“Go Longhorns,” Sean says, tapping his cup to Joel’s and chugging the contents. Joel watches his twenty-year-old son with wide eyes and a torn conscience. 

“This is what I’m payin’ tuition for, huh?” He teases, taking a single sip of the cheap beer. A cheer erupts from behind him and he turns to look at what’s causing so much excitement.

You and a friend are at one end of a plastic folding table, glaring daggers at two boys at the other end, a single solo cup set on the table in front of you. You have a white ping pong ball held delicately between two fingers, your other hand propped on your hip as you squint one eye shut to take your aim for the cup that sits in front of the boys. You let the ball fly and it sinks into the cup, another cheer going through the small crowd gathered around you as you jump up and down excitedly.

Sean approaches the boys, slapping one of them on the shoulder. One of them shouts, “Redemption shot!”

“Oh, please! You can’t aim for shit, Chad!” You shout back. 

“Celebrity shot, then!” He suggests. The boy, Chad, reaches out to pull an older man to his side. “Dad edition!”

Your eyes scan the crowd, landing on Joel. You wave him over, the older man glancing around briefly before pointing to himself to confirm. You nod, smile bright as he approaches.

“I need a daddy for this celebrity shot, you wanna do the honors?” You ask sweetly. Joel swallows nervously, face heating at the suggestive tone and look you’re giving him. 

“Come on, dad!” Sean calls out. “Show ‘em what a Miller man can do!”

“Yeah,” you chime in. “Show me what a Miller man can do.”

“Alright, fine,” Joel acquiesces, moving to stand beside you. You slip a ping pong ball into his hand, standing so close beside him that your bare arm brushes his as you both watch Chad’s dad take aim for the single cup. 

The ball soars through the air, hitting the rim of the cup and bouncing off onto the table, rolling to the ground as the men groan. He feels you place a hand on his shoulder, your lips close to his ear as you whisper, “Come on, Mr. Miller. You’re my only hope.”

It doesn’t escape Joel’s notice that you keep your hand on his shoulder as he takes aim and throws the ball across the table, sinking it into the cup. You’re throwing your arms around his shoulders in celebration as the people around you shout excitedly. On instinct, Joel’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you close for a brief moment before coming to his senses and taking a step back.

“Thanks,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes. “I’m going to go inside for a drink. You want anything? I’ve got a stash of IPAs in a friend’s fridge upstairs if you want something better than Miller Lite. Consider it a thank you for winning me bragging rights over Chad.”

Joel should say no. He shouldn’t be taking up drink offers from someone half his age, but you’re giving him another devastating smile that has his resolve folding faster than a lawn chair in a hurricane.

“Sure.”

The hottest man you’ve ever seen is currently following you upstairs to your friend Craig’s room for a beer. He’s tall and tan with sweet brown eyes and dark hair that looks like it would be a dream to run your fingers through. His broad chest and toned biceps press deliciously at the confines of the white UT Longhorns shirt he’s wearing. When he stepped up beside you to throw your celebrity shot at the beer pong table downstairs, you’d noted that his left hand featured no wedding band or a tan line of one left behind.

You reach the second floor and head for the last door on the right, marked with a PRESIDENT plaque. You reach into the pocket for the key Craig had given you earlier and let yourself inside, heading for the mini fridge in the corner and grabbing two Yellow Rose IPA cans. 

“So,” you say, handing the man one of the drinks. “You got a name, or should I keep calling you Mr. Miller?”

“It’s Joel,” he says, taking a long sip of the beer. You watch the muscles of his throat work, longing to press your lips against the tan skin. 

You tell him your name, holding a hand out to him for a handshake. His grip is tight, sturdy, and for a brief moment you think about how his sure, thick fingers would feel deep inside of you. He looks around the room curiously as he pulls his hand back.

“Craig and I have been friends since freshman year,” you explain. “I helped him pass calculus, he lets me keep my beer out of the grubby hands of his frat brothers.”

“Calculus, huh?” He asks, taking another sip. “Must mean you’re pretty smart.”

“Just a basic engineering prerequisite,” you joke. 

“Engineering? That’s impressive.”

You take a seat on Craig’s bed, crossing one leg over the other. Joel’s eyes track the movement and you smile, giddy at the attention. “What do you do, Mr. Miller?”

“Thought you were gonna call me Joel?” 

“Mm, I can think of a few things to call you.”

Joel nearly spits his mouthful of beer out, choking on the bitter drink. You rush towards him, patting him on the back as he coughs. After a moment of fighting for breath, the man seems to realize how close you are, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, trailing down to your chest. 

You lean in a little closer, pressing yourself to him and you think this might be it, Joel Miller might be the DILF of your dreams as he leans into you as well. 

But the doorknob rattles and the door swings open, Joel jumping back in surprise as both of you turn to look at the doorway. Craig leans against the frame, an eyebrow raised and a knowing smirk on his lips. You roll your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, looking between you and Joel. “Ashley’s lookin’ for you downstairs. We’re headin’ to the stadium now.”

“I better find Sean, then,” Joel says. Craig’s eyes light up.

“You’re Miller’s dad? Hey, man, nice to finally meet you. I’m Craig, TLU president.” The men shake hands, patting each other on the back. “Sean’s a good kid, we’re happy to have him.”

“Good to hear,” Joel replies. 

“Well, guess I’ll go find Ashley.” You place a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Miller. Maybe I’ll see you later?” You let your hand trail down the man’s bicep as you leave and you watch his throat work around a nervous swallow.

“Yeah, sure,” he says. “See you later.”

The Longhorns pull off an impressive win, a 49-0 blowout against Oklahoma that has the entire campus celebrating with abandon. If Joel thought the TLU house was packed for the tailgate, that crowd was nothing compared to the after game party. More alcohol, more people, and more noise is packed into the house. Joel sticks close to Sean, meeting more of his frat brothers and their parents with shouted introductions. 

When the stale air inside the house gets too overwhelming, Sean leads him to the deck. More kegs have appeared and his son bumps him with his shoulder, nodding towards where a few people are gathered around one, a man hoisted upside down by two people gripping his legs as he chugs directly from the keg tap. He spits the valve out as the crowd shouts a chorus of, “Twenty!”

“I bet you could do better,” Sean says. Joel raises an eyebrow at him.

“I know what you’re doin’, kid, and it ain’t gonna work,” Joel replies. Sean puts his hands up.

“I’m not doin’ anythin’. But if you’re too scared, you can tell me.”

“I’m not scared.” 

“Hey, my dad’s got next!” Sean shouts, dragging Joel through the crowd with an arm around his shoulders. Joel tries to argue but a familiar face in the crowd has the words dying on his tongue. You wiggle your fingers at him in a wave and suddenly he has the motivation to execute the most impressive keg stand of his life.

Joel grabs the cold handles of the keg, Sean and one of his fraternity brothers lifting him into the air so that he’s suspended upside down over the barrel of beer. People begin counting, shouting numbers as he attempts to focus on the beer flooding his mouth and drinking it down steadily. It’s been a long time since he’s done one of these, probably before Sean was even born, but if there’s one thing Joel has never been, it's a quitter.

After what feels like forever he spits the valve out with a gasp and he gets lowered back to ground as the crowd shouts, “Thirty-four!”

Sean’s frat brothers jump around him excitedly, hands patting him on the back and cheering his name. He laughs as Sean starts yelling, “That’s what I’m fuckin’ talkin’ about!”

Movement from the corner of his eye catches his attention and he turns his head just in time to see you disappear into the house. He tells Sean he’ll be back in a minute and follows after you, craning his neck to scan the mass of bodies crammed inside until he spots you on the stairs. 

When he finally manages to reach the stairs, he’s surprised to find them roped off at the bottom. Looking around to make sure no one is paying attention to him, he ducks beneath the barrier, taking the steps two at a time. The second floor is dark and empty but light spills into a hall from beneath the last door marked PRESIDENT.

Joel knocks on the wood, his head a little light from the rush of alcohol in his system but it has him feeling good. 

Confident. 

Maybe a little too confident because when you open the door, he wraps an arm around your waist, pushing his way inside as his lips find yours, a little noise of surprise swallowed by him as his tongue explores yours.

He comes to his senses when your teeth nip at his bottom lip, jarring him back to a reality where he is a mature adult who thinks with his brain and not his dick. He grips you on the shoulders, breaking the kiss and holding you at arm's length.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t even ask if it was okay to kiss you, just came bargin’ in here like a bull in a goddamn china shop and you probably don’t even want—“

“Joel?” You interrupt. He blinks.

“Yeah?” He asks.

“Kiss me again.”

Joel kisses you again, but pulls away a second time to ask, “Wait, how old are you?”

“Twenty-three,” you reply, giggling as he mutters a low thank god before pulling you back into his arms. It’s another short lived kiss, the man leaning back once more as you huff in annoyance.

“Wait, how much have you had to drink?” He asks this time. 

“Less than you, Mr. Thirty-Four-Second Keg Stand,” you answer. He gives you a smirk that has your stomach doing somersaults. 

“You liked that, huh?” 

His hands slip into the back pockets of your shorts and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He kisses you again, slower this time, like he’s savoring the feel of your lips against his. Your heart is racing as he pulls you even closer and runs his hands up your back, warm palms exploring your curves like he’s trying to map them to memory.

You’re lost enough in each other that the sound of the door opening doesn’t register until an upset voice is saying, “Ugh, come on! No fucking in my room!”

“Shit,” you yelp, tearing yourself away from Joel. Craig is standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. You grab Joel’s hand and tug him towards the door of the en-suite bathroom, pulling him inside and slamming the door behind you, flipping the lock.

“Hey, wait a minute—“

“It’s not your room, Craig!” You yell through the wood. There’s a muffled curse from the other side.

“Condoms are under the sink,” he shouts back. You grin victoriously at Joel, who’s laughing so hard he has a hand pressed to his chest. You step up to him, grabbing that hand and bringing it around your waist.

“You sure about this?” Joel asks seriously, stepping forward until he’s crowding you against the door. You tilt your head up to look at his handsome face, his dark eyes so intense as he searches your face that you feel giddy.

“I mean, the location isn’t ideal, but at least Craig keeps his bathroom pretty clean,” you joke, noting the clear counter space and surprising lack of dirty clothing littering the floor. 

“Answer the question, sweetheart. You sure about doing this with me?”

You reach up, tangling your fingers into his soft curls, pulling him close until your lips graze his as you respond, “I’m so fucking sure.”

Whatever tether of control Joel had been holding onto seems to snap with your words, the man kissing you so roughly that all you can do is hold on, your fingers curling desperately against his scalp as his tongue dives into your mouth and tangles with yours. He tastes like beer and smells like a mixture of cedar and sweat, the combination intoxicating as he presses close and surrounds you with it.

Joel trails his lips across your jaw, nipping your earlobe before continuing down your neck. He sucks the thin skin over your pulse before soothing the sting with his tongue as you writhe against him, gasping at the sensation. You can feel his smile against your shoulder and as he presses a thigh between your legs, you get a brief feel of his hard cock behind the barrier of his basketball shorts.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he growls, hands trailing across your curves until he’s gripping one of your breasts, squeezing tightly.

“Not so bad yourself,” you moan. He chuckles darkly.

“The mouth on you.” He reaches two fingers into the low neck of your tank top, dragging it down over your breasts. He yanks the cups of your bra down in a similar fashion, the fabric bunched beneath your chest to expose your tight nipples to him. He dips his head down and wraps his lips around a tight bud, pulling it into his mouth as you gasp.

“Could show you some other things my mouth is good at,” you tell him as he releases your breast with a wet pop, lifting his head to look at you. 

“I have a better idea,” he says, dropping to his knees. He lifts one of your legs and wiggles your boot off, tossing it to the side before doing the same with the other.

“What are you doing?” You ask when his hands reach for the fly of your shorts. He pauses, looking up at you with concern. 

“I was plannin’ on eatin’ you out until you couldn’t think straight,” he says. His brows pinch together. “Do you not want that?”

“I-I’m not sure? I mean, no one’s ever…,” your sentence trails off, your eyes going wide.

Joel runs a soothing hand down your thigh, smiling up at you. “That’s a damn shame, baby. Let me show you how a real man takes care of a woman.”

You let him work your shorts and panties down your thighs, stepping out of them with a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. He lifts one of your legs and settles it over his shoulder, opening you up to his hungry gaze. His eyes flick up to your face and he grins as he says, “Pretty all over, aren’t ya?”

Any smart reply you have died on your tongue as he starts kissing the sensitive skin of your thighs, starting at the knee that’s close to his face and moving up, up, up until you can feel his warm breath on your pussy. His tongue flicks across your clit, featherlight, but it’s enough to have you gasping his name. 

He starts a rhythm of messy swirls of his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves before dipping down to your entrance, the tip of his nose still brushing your clit and making you moan. You buck against his face and he immediately grasps your hips in his big hands, fingers curling into the flesh of your ass to hold you still as he lavishes your pussy with attention.

“Oh my god,” you pant, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair. He groans at the same time his lips wrap around your clit and the sound of his satisfaction has your orgasm taking you by surprise, washing through your veins and making you feel like you’re on fire. 

You feel breathless as he licks you slowly, thoroughly, his tongue making sure he’s gotten every last drop of your release. He leans back, slowly lowering your leg from his shoulder. His lips and chin are coated in your wetness, shiny in the light of the bathroom vanity, the sight making your cheeks feel hot and a nervous giggle spill free.

Joel grins, boyish and sweet. “Good?” He asks. 

“Great. Amazing,” you concur. “Ten out of ten. Your Yelp review will be glowing.”

“Shouldn't I be the one leavin’ the Yelp review? You were the meal after all.”

You blink at him. “Oh my god, that was so bad,” you say, laughter near hysterical.

He stands, his palms cupping your face and pulling you into a filthy kiss that quickly shuts you up, his tongue slowly exploring yours and introducing the musky taste of yourself to your taste buds. You reach down, palming his hard cock through his shorts and the responding groan you receive from the older man has you clenching in anticipation.

Joel breaks the kiss, pulling you against his body and turning until you’re facing the vanity, your hips pressed to the edge of the laminate counter. You watch his reflection in the mirror as he runs a hand down your back, pressing you forward slightly so that you’re bent over the counter, ass slightly tilted up. His hand continues lower until it’s running reverently over one cheek. He catches your eye in the mirror.

“You gonna let me fuck you just like this?” He asks. Your breath hitches as his fingers trace through your folds, one dipping into your entrance. He watches your face in the mirror, eyes dark and expression serious. “Answer me.”

“Fuck, yes, anything,” you say quickly. He thrusts his finger slowly, curling it against your front wall with every pull from your body. One finger becomes two, the slight stretch making you whine as he continues to work them in and out of you. “Joel, please.”

“Please what, baby?” He asks.

“Need you to fuck me,” you tell him. 

Joel grins, removing his fingers and urging you to the side so he can open the cabinet under the sink. He crouches down, rummaging through the contents for a moment before standing with a victorious expression and a foil packet pinched between his fingers. He shoves his basketball shorts and boxers down his thighs, just low enough to free his impressive cock, thick and long with a slight curve up that has your mouth watering. He rolls the condom on and then grabs your hips, the tip of his length sliding through your folds and making your breath catch.

“You ready, baby?” He asks, squeezing your hips. You meet his gaze in the reflection, your lips tilted in a smirk.

“Been ready for a while, old man,” you tease. He raises his eyebrows and draws his hand back, landing a sharp smack to your ass that has you crying out. 

Before the sting even fades, he’s pushing inside of you with one steady thrust until his hips are flush to your ass. Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter and you lift onto your tiptoes, trying to escape the sudden sensation of his cock stretching you so well. He chuckles darkly, tight hands on your hips keeping you from going too far.

“Old man,” he taunts, mimicking the higher pitch of your voice. He reaches forward, palm resting beneath your chin as his fingers and thumb press into your cheeks, tilting your head up so that your eyes meet his in the mirror as he says, “Eyes up, sweetheart. You watch how this old man fucks you.”

Joel draws his hips back and slams forward, the head of his cock burying so deep inside of you that your eyes roll back from the exquisite stretch and pressure. He sets a rhythm that has a constant string of moans and pleas spilling from your parted lips, a slow pull out and a rough push in that makes you see stars. If you dare to let your chin drop or your eyes shut, the strong hand around your throat reminds you of his demand that you watch.

“That feel good, baby?” He grunts. “My cock in this tight fuckin’ pussy?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

“That’s right, who’s fuckin’ you so good? Say my name, sweetheart, wanna hear it from that pretty mouth.”

“Joel!” You cry out, the tight coil of pleasure in your belly finally unraveling, your cunt pulsing greedily around his cock as you cum. He curses, his rhythm going sloppy as he fucks you through your release and right into his own.

His hand leaves your throat and his head drops to your shoulder, soft kisses being left on your shoulder blades as you both catch your breath. After a long moment, he pulls back from you, removing the condom and tying it off to toss it in the garbage.

You straighten up from your bent position over the counter, fixing your bra and tank top back into place. Turning, you find Joel holding your shorts and panties. 

“Was that…are you…did you—“ 

You lean into him as you grab your clothes, kissing him softly. Pulling back, you murmur, “That was amazing.”

Joel sighs in relief, watching as you get dressed and tug your boots back on. “Good. That’s…good.”

“Why don’t you head downstairs first? I need to freshen up,” you suggest. Joel nods, but doesn’t make a move to leave. You raise your eyebrows at him and that seems to have him getting the hint. 

“Oh! Right, I’ll just…go downstairs,” he says. You giggle, leaning into him for one more kiss before he disappears from the bathroom and you busy yourself with fixing your appearance to look a little less well fucked.

Downstairs, Joel wanders through the first floor in search of his son. He feels a flash of guilt for leaving him for so long, especially to fuck a woman half his age in a frat house bathroom, but the guilt is short lived when he finds his son with his tongue down the throat of a blonde girl in the living room.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles, turning to head for the front door instead. It’s getting late and now seems like a good time to head home.

He’s a few steps out the front door when he hears his name called out and you appear from the doorway. 

“You heading out so soon?” You ask, bottom lip jutting out in a pout that he kind of wants to kiss from your lips. He runs a nervous hand through his hair.

“Uh, yeah. Was gonna head home,” he says. Christ, he has no idea why he’s acting so weird, but you have him tied up in knots. 

“You know…my apartment isn’t far. Maybe…maybe you don’t have to go home just yet?” You say, looking up at him through your lashes.

Those knots of uncertainty loosen and Joel holds a hand out to you.

“Lead the way, baby.”

Joel Miller Masterlist

[kimingyuslover]

Coup de foudre

synopsis: same old case, he never believes in love at first sight, until he met you

word count: 1,199

pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader

genre: love at first sight!au, strangers to lovers, fluff, suggestive.

warnings: simp!wonwoo, mention of alcohol, Jeonghan made appearance, Dokyeom mentioned, make out session (not detailed), slightly suggestive at the end.

a.n: finally! a full fluff fic, but i can't think anything, so maybe the plot is kinda rushed.

Wonwoo never believes when people tell him that they're falling in love at first sight. To him, love needs time and patience. You can't just say you're in love with someone when you first see them.

That's until he met you.

You both met at a college party, you wanting to relieve your stress after the final exam, Dokyeom– your friend since high school, invited you to his frat party.

Whereas Wonwoo just wants to spend his weekend night with his frat brothers.

You went to the kitchen to take another bottle of vodka because Minghao said that it needs to be refilled.

There you met the most attractive man you've ever met in your life. Wonwoo just stood between the kitchen island and kitchen shelves with a phone on his left hand while the other filled with a cup of gin.

“Uhm, excuse me, can you please take that bottle? I can't reach it. It's on the top shelves” you said sheepishly to Wonwoo.

He froze for a second, admiring you like you're a piece of art that God made special for his eyes. He realised that it's been a few seconds since you asked him, and he hasn't given his answer yet, nor did he make a move to grab the bottle you ask for.

“Sorry, here” he said after snapping out of his thoughts and grabbing the vodka bottle from one of the top shelves.

“Thanks! care to join us? we're having a beer pong” Your offer was reciprocated with a small smile attached to Wonwoo's face and followed with a ‘sure’ from him.

[ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ]

The second time he met you was when he bought coffee from the cafe that's close to your campus, not expecting to see you there working.

“Welcome! How can I help you?” you said automatically before lifting your head only to realise that you saw this man a few days prior at a party.

“Can I get one medium americano and one cheesecake to go? i'll pay with my credit card” He replied with a smile while handing his card, which makes you mirror his smile with yours and take his card in your hand.

“Okay then, that'll be 10,000₩” Before you continue your sentence, Wonwoo already tells his name, maybe a little bit too loud because everyone can hear it.

“Here's your card, wait for a few minutes and your order will be ready to go, Wonwoo” you said with a wide smile still plastered on your face.

Wonwoo smiled shyly at you after he realised he had embarrassed himself a few seconds ago.

Then not long after that, you call his name when his order is ready, and Wonwoo doesn't want to miss his chance, so after he takes his order he asks you to go somewhere with him.

“Are you free this weekend?” he asks you carefully, makes you halt your movement, before smiling apologetically.

“I'm packed this week, maybe next time” but before you can go to your original station, he stops you by grabbing your wrist.

“Give me your phone number so i can text you next time” he says, making you smile. The next thing he knows, you take tissue from the counter and write your number with your pen.

He said his thanks when he got out of the café, he was surprised when someone loudly spoke to him.

“huh? pretty smooth flirt skill you got there, care to share?” That person was Jeonghan, his childhood friend, and the question makes Wonwoo slap Jeonghan’s shoulder lightly.

“Shut your mouth” Wonwoo walked away with a grin on his face. The fact that he got your number only on your second meeting was superior. He can't wait to text you tonight.

[ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ]

Okay, maybe not tonight. He's too anxious to send a message to you. He's an overthinker and an ambiguous man.

Hi, this is Wonwoo|

Hi, this is|

Hi|

He thinks it over and over again to send a message to you, doubtful of himself, but at the end of the night, he still sends a message to you, a simple one.

Hi, it's Wonwoo

He turns off his phone and charges it on the nightstand beside his bed, opting to close his eyes and open the message from you tomorrow so his heart will calm a little.

And tomorrow rolling faster than he could imagine, it feels like he just slept thirty seconds ago, but he's eager to see your reply.

hi Wonwoo, i checked my schedule, and i think i can go with you on tuesday next week, i don't have any class.

He nearly jumps out of his bed, but that action comes to an image after he sees Jeonghan on his door, looking confused at his behaviour.

“That cafe girl replies? lucky you, she seems sweet, pretty, and kind of cute” and with that, Jeonghan walks to his room, which is the opposite room from Wonwoo's.

After Jeonghan left, Wonwoo couldn't hide his smile, feeling like the happiest man on earth.

And days go by like a wind always blows on each day, it goes fast.

Before he knew it, it's H-2 before his meeting with you, and he was still stuck on picking his attire for this unofficial date (in his mind, it's official).

He has no other choice than calling Jeonghan, who seems so excited for his bestfriend unofficial date.

After a while, Wonwoo finally found his outfit that he would be using on this date.

White high-waisted trousers with a cream half-zip sweatshirt will be his attire for the rest of the day, which goes with black framed specs attached on his face.

He's been waiting for you alone at the restaurant downtown that you two talked about the night before.

After tapping his shoes for almost 5 minutes, he sees a glimpse of you, your pretty smile, and the outfit you wear adorning your body.

Wonwoo, still remember that day, you were wearing a white midi dress with a cream blazer on your hand and a white ysl bag walking towards him with a big smile on your face.

“So, that day is the day you love me?” you said, looking up to Wonwoo, who was playing his ps5 while you're laying on his lap.

you're curious about how he fell in love with you, so you asked him.

“No, sweetheart, I fell in love with you at first sight when we met at my frat party” Wonwoo said while stroking your hair with a gentle smile on your face.

“And you're my first love too” Wonwoo continued after you sat down beside him.

“I'm your first love?”

You asked him with that pretty eyes of you, gaze full of questioning his statement.

Wonwoo can’t help but give your lips a peck and a peck and another peck that turns into…

A heated makeout session, so he takes you to your shared bedroom.

He plopped down beside you after hours of hot making love, “you're my last love, and i'm hoping i'm your last” he says, then gives you lips a long chaste kiss.

“I love you”

“I love you too, sweetheart”

[withahappyrefrain]

FRAT TASM!PETER WITH

“I had a dream about you last night. Woke up hard/wet. Wanna hear about it?”

THIS IS SOMETHING THAT COCKY ASSHOLE WOULD SAYYY OH MY GOD

This is how blonde frat Peter returns bless you

Warning: language, frat Peter being a cocky little shit, female reader, I think that's it!

"Hey, you made it after all."

You audbily breathe in through your nose, trying to ignore the fumes of vodka and who knows what else was in this God forsaken jungle juice.

Anything to give you the strength to face Peter Parker.

You turn around to find him leaning against the door, a joint tucked behind his ear, hands in the pocket of his black hoodie, bleached blonde hair somehow perfectly messy.

"Don't get ahead of yourself Parker. I'm only here to support my roommate," you scoff, turning your attention back to the game of beer pong. Not that you were truly interested.

But you couldn't let him know that.

You regret being late to the first day of your Science Diplomacy & World Health class. Had you known it would have left you no choice but to sit next to Peter Parker, you wouldn't have hit the snooze button for your alarm five times.

It wasn't even like you had asked to borrow a pencil from him. He seemed drawn to you, like a moth to a flame.

"Y'know, I feel like I would have remembered a face like yours. You a transfer?" He asked, as if you two weren't in the middle of a lecture.

Thanks to your roommate being in the sorority that paired up with his frat, you had heard all about Peter Parker. The infamous parties. How he dyed his hair blonde at the beginning of sophomore. How he's the biggest flirt that Delta Lambda Phi had.

You didn't even look at him when you responded, "We've been in the same class since freshman year. But I came here to get a degree, not to party."

Ever since that day, he wouldn't leave you alone. At first it started with ridiculously over the top pick up lines.

"Are you made up of copper and tellurium? Because you're cute."

All you could do was roll your eyes at every line, mustering all the strength you had to not smile. You had eyes, the guy was cute. But you also knew his type.

So when he extended a personal invite to the latest frat party, you simply turned him down, like you had for countless of other parties.

Of course, as luck would have it, it was exactly the party your roommate wanted to go to.

You hoped to avoid him, hoped that your roommate would find whoever she was looking for so you could leave.

But it was as if Peter Parker had a sixth sense for you specifically. His inability to find you in libraries, dinning halls, and the university's coffee shop (bc fuck Starbucks) had now extended to frat parties.

"You know Parker, stalking is a serious crime," you scoff, refusing to look at him. The ever present scent of cinnamon alerted you that he was now standing next to you.

"It's not my fault you have a beautiful face that I could pick out from a crowd," He mumbles, a stark contrast to the usual cocky bravada you're used to.

"Excuse me?" Without thinking, you turn to face him, making contact with those big brown eyes.

The corner of his pink lips jerk upwards as he leans in, brushing a piece of hair out of your face. His touch is gentle, something you weren't expecting at all.

"You heard me." The cocky smile had returned, causing you to roll your eyes.

"Hey, don't gimme that. I know you love how cheesy I am."

Unfortunately, it was true. He was never crude and it somehow sounded genuine, despite being accompanied by a worn snapback.

"It's not crass, unlike your fellow brotherin. I'll give you that Parker." You would have taken a step back if you could, but you were now up against the wall. But he still had space to close in on you, not that he did. He always kept enough distance that you could walk away.

Come to think of it, you hadn't seen or heard him flirt with anyone since the first day of classes.

"Y'know, I got an offer from Delta Chi. It could be way worse." His comment earned a laugh from you, a feat Peter was quite proud of.

"You're right, I guess I should give you that."

"I think you can give me a lot more," He leaned in, closing some of the distance between you two but not all the way, "If you want."

The ball was in your court. His lips looked so soft, no doubt from the vanilla chapstick he used. God, why did you know that about him? And why did he always smell like cinnamon instead of Axe body spray? That's what he should be using, it would certainly make it easier for you to discourage your own feelings about the guy.

Tired of denying, tired of putting up a wall, and not kissing anyone in the last four months caused you to grab at his hoodie, your lips crashing onto his.

You vaguely register the sound of the dropped plastic cup, as your fingers thread through his hair to find it soft, despite all the hair dye and bleach.

Peter's hands feel large as they skim your sides, landing at your hips. When his tongue slid across your bottom lip, you could feel your knees begin to go weak. As if he could sense it, he pushed your back firmly against the wall, one of his large hands going down to your thigh to help steady you.

Fuck, his lips were soft. There was muscle underneath that hoodie, you could feel it.

His lips trailed down to your jaw before settling on your ear.

"I had a dream about you last night. Woke up hard. Wanna hear about it?"

Desire burned at the pit of your stomach, your fingers gripping the strands of his hair.

"Where the fuck is your bedroom Parker?"