#I can get very wordy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nieranddear · 6 months ago

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I know it was probably supposed to be to be in tags but I soon realized that it just Couldn't possibly fit so... here is a whole 3k+ word semi structured ramble on the matter [being Ayin and what the hell that man is] and my own thoughts on him. I hope you’re fine with it

Sympathetic, yes. Excused and able to be seen as a saint or the sort where his actions are 'justifiable' or that he is a 'good man'? Oh fuck no. Absolutely not. How about a Monster? Easily a flat out no. Does that make him a horrible person or ‘bad person’? I can’t say for sure as the definition of both depends on who you ask, but in mine it he isn’t a ‘bad person’. It would be far easier to be able to call him a bad person. A Monster. But he isn’t. He’s a person with numerous sins and blood on his hands but ultimately he is just a Person. Human. Painfully Human. Mind you, I've only played Lobcorp. Nothing on Ruina so perhaps my opinion may change. I will say this first. Just because he expresses guilt and remorse, just because he actively shows and expresses care for those around him in forms to where it was true and unfiltered [Abel “ Fatigue and Waiting” meltdown, Abram “Regret and Atonement” meltdown, day 40 literally deadass] it doesn't mean shit to those he hurt if he, Ayin, the man at his core, doesn't go ahead and attempt to Make It So his wrongs are even somewhat put right. Which he does. In a way that I’ll talk about in mixed feelings later. It doesn't resolve him of the 'sins' or his faults. But he is so so painfully Human. Which is why I do like him, as a character at least, and can feel sympathy for his plight. Just because one feels sympathy doesn’t mean that the person they can feel it towards is ‘clean’ or doesn’t hold ‘sin’ or, in a way that sounds less pretentious and used more commonly in the internet, ‘unproblematic’.

Perhaps the main problem with him is that he never did Stop. A huge thing when revolving around him. Not looking back, refusing in a way and unable in another. Be it in needing progress, to a want to achieve the goal he sees entrusted onto him from, seemingly, a woman he joined the project for and solely for as “...She wanted to save them, and guide their souls back… to dedicate herself to save humanity. Yet I, who held no such ambition, had to continue her legacy” [Day 50]. No such ambition to save humanity, for he “Lost [his] heart” and had known for a “very long time.”. Yet he didn’t stop and continued to carry her will and bring the Project to an end and was determined to do so by any means necessary For Her. Be it by not turning around to look at the bodies along his path or the fact guilt holds so heavy on his body he doesn’t look to see such a thing [Elijah, Binah's story [4] "And what happened to that coward? The one who with fear averted his gaze from my dying one." “Erasing your memories and running away from them as if nothing happened is your age-old specialty.”, Day 40 and the existence of the cognition filter in the first place and the response ‘Can you stop the recording, please?’, Abel on Day 47 “Yet you did not care to witness his final moments.”]. Or dulling himself to the atrocities he gradually grew and tumbled down into as the domino chain kept falling and the thorns along that past never subsided, getting even more grueling of a path to endure as time went on. The part that has me struggle to pin him as a ‘mastermind’ or the sort is the fact he Does express that guilt and remorse and even acknowledgement for his faults and acts.

Even though I did say it ‘didn’t mean shit’. Yes, to those he hurt it doesn’t, yet it doesn’t automatically disqualify either side’s pain. You can’t just go ahead and decide that one person’s suffering isn’t able to be taken into account solely due to the fact they also inflicted pain and hurt. Even if you don’t agree nor forgive, it still Does exist. If you shut out another solely due to the fact of personal vendetta or general hate you’re still silencing another. Yes, you can have an opinion but completely disregarding another, even if you did deem them ‘horrible’, is still Disregarding Another’s Feelings and Pain or even how they got to that point. He is someone that holds care. Yet he is also someone who did some unforgivable shit. Which is fine to not be fine with. But focusing on one side, that part of ‘Cruelty’ or part of ‘Affection’ without acknowledging the other is still ignoring the facets of the man. Which he has many of. He is someone that shows remorse and has a whole struggle with existing which can be seen in the later days. He is someone that can be seen calling it what it is. [Abram’s mentioning of them becoming “cruel” “We destroyed everything while holding her warmth in our hands.” Abram in his entirety even if the words are soaked inside guilt and self-hate it’s still aware of the actions, of day 50 and in its entirety “As you can see, we’ve become just like other Wings, committing atrocities just like them. The employees here have repeated hundreds upon thousands of deaths… My friends were robbed of their lives and trapped in this cycle of agony… All while I just sat and watch, justifying it all as the means to realize her ideal. This sin shall never be forgiven.”, Day 47’s “You realized how innocent, talented souls of young persons were trapped into machines by your hands, haven’t you?”] The idea of ‘Well why didn’t he Just stop? Just Notice it then? Not Do all of these heinous acts? Why didn’t he talk to Michelle and not experiment on Giovanni? Why didn’t he not force the procedure on Gabriel and not turn around and be safer with the key and with Elijah?’ It’s because he’s Human. He, Ayin, is a man shown to not stop at any means to realize a goal. Ayin is a man who doesn’t seem to be able to stop in his own mind, as shown before, and also a man who quite literally Didn’t Realize at the time what would happen with Elijah and Gabriel. Of the hazy specifics on the experiment with Enoch which was voted for as they didn’t want to lose their ‘binding light and ideal’ Carmen [Who is ultimately Human I love Carmen but this is a post about Ayin]. A man good with machines and the scientific part of things, methodical in the creation of a script, yet lacking inside the aspects that relate to the emotional response [See the ‘Old Lab’ as I don’t quite know the name so that is what I’ll be referring to it as with Michelle, Gabriel, Elijah, the lack of words to Daniel in the end, hurting the heart of the man that stayed by him to the end where he left as well. The obsession and drive for the project causing those nearby him to die. For the drive to get results and progress on research to complete the goal causing him to also be blinded by that and finally directly have blood on his hands with Giovanni not including the self blame of ‘driving her to her death’ (Paraphrased) with Carmen.] It’s only after the fact and after he is forced to stop [The Project halting in a way and the loops taking place over years and years] or after the fact itself [The talks from A when a Core Meltdown is about to happen and after it does is known to be after the fact though the actual time of realization is hazy, either it be directly after the death or awhile after, but it doesn’t matter as it is a realization that occurs after the tragedy happened] does he realize the mistakes and faults when looking back. [This can also be seen in Abel in his entirety. “We were too naive. I could only realize what wrongdoings we have done after transiently passing all these years.”]

It’s the fact he is self-reflective in the terms of knowing his faults after the fact, the fact he punishes himself [Loops, Binah [4] “Why is he down here suffering the same punishment as I?”, Day 35, Direct calling of this as a ‘Prison’ multiple times.], the fact that even still he persists for the wish of another when wanting to “Fade” and “Be forgotten” [Day 47, Hokma Story 5, the elaborate farewell that is day 50, the desire and want to “Fade away without a trace” seen inside the Final Days and Hokma’s Story 5], the fact he sinks so commonly into the pit of guilt and regret [Abram in his entirety huge emphasis on Abram and his existence, Day 38 “It was also my role to butter you up with plain words, to help you avoid sinking into the pit of guilt”, Day 40 Again.], the fact he tries to rectify his mistakes and still pursue the goal of another, all for another [Day 43 “ I did not approve of you placing the Sephirot here. However, you told me that your atonement and the awakening of the Sephirot were key to the untying of this knot I lie in.”, the fact he sees himself as a core cause of Carmen’s death and feeling as he needs to complete her will in a way because of her no longer being there, the whole facility being ‘Penance’ mentioned by Adam who is a whole other thing that is fairly simple yet wordy to even talk about]. Ayin is a Man. Not a monster. Nor a genius manipulator that pulled every single string for his Script brings the ‘play’ to conclusion and the Project to its end in that part but still neglects various this [being emotional/mental aspects which is a common thing with him. That and completely lacking Angela in the end without her ever getting a conclusion in his script. STUPID script by the way]. He’s a Man who, when running to a goal, wouldn’t look back and almost in a way couldn’t for he had to bury that emotional response to be able to bear it all. A man who, inside his grief, is seen and stated to be is irritable and irrational [Snow Queen entry, Day 31 “If a ray of sunlight breaks your heart and collapses your mind with longing and nostalgia… And seeing plants outside evokes an unknown rage, tearing down your rational thought… Then we have no choice but to stay underground”]. A man who acknowledges himself [Abram] that he isn’t “normal” nor sane. A man who saw that he needed to bury his emotions underneath rationality and for his goal and who, scarily, started to become numb and apathetic to the acts the longer they went on. Became numb. Those actions that instilled fear, as it was stated to be fear, slowly happening again and again and causing the numbness. Just… the entirety of the Final Days and especially day 47 on this specific matter. Lobotomy corporation is a wonderful game I adore but it doesn’t know the word ‘subtly’ in any manner of speaking. If it wants to communicate something, it’ll say it upright. Which makes it a bit more confusing when some words may be seen as deceitful . Yes, it’s a good thing to think about the intent behind the words, but also just the plain style of how the story is delivered doesn’t make much wiggle room as it ends up plainly laying it out to the reading. It’s Very Clear on it. You see the struggles of the Sephirot, and then it is mirrored inside A, Ayin, himself. That’s how the game is also literally structured. Needing those answers from the Sephirot who mirror his own agony and struggle in order to tell those resolutions and resolves he saw inside those people to the fragments of himself.

I totally understand why people would hate him or dislike him as a character. He's hurt so many people and taken so many lives. Done things seen as 'too far' which, yeah, absolutely can see that and I'm not excited to learn about how exactly the rest of this City functions as well. Do I believe him to be a monster? Nothing of the sort. All of his struggle stems from the fact he is so rawly Human. Do I believe he needs to be forgiven? No. No. I don't believe he should be for his actions. I don't think he Needs to be forgiven. I think they need to, his faults, be addressed. In fact it feels weird when people just forgive him for it all. He, himself, states something of the like on Day 50. He's left so many with wounds and scars that won't heal. Hurt the hearts of those nearby him and left until there was none and then only Angela which I’m not well equipped to talk about as from what I’ve heard LOR discusses her own journey and pains. But I feel as if saying he's a ‘monster’ completely ignores the other parts of his character which Are There. He’s not a messiah or anything idealized, nor is he without fault, nor does that pain and guilt erase everything. He's a person who is stubborn and adamant on achieving something when he goes ahead and dedicates himself to a cause. He’s someone who doesn’t communicate and whose face is commonly flat most of the time and seen to be in the memories at the least [Hokma, Gebura story, Day 50 expressions]. He's someone who held such love in his heart as I tend to point out in other parts and get stuck on, they used ‘Loved ones’ to describe the others. He’s someone who fully felt as if the will to live and exist died the moment Carmen did, as if his life held no meaning, as if dependent on her [Day 47 stated, shown in practice further Day 48]. He’s someone who used justifications and passing things off in the sake of a goal that he clings to as it was one of the only things he had left of Carmen at that point, especially since it was a request asked of Carmen herself. Justifications for numerous amounts of agony and torment. Grief that shrouded his actions in pain and irritability and cruelty. Yet a man who also still holds himself accountable and hates himself for feeling unable to protect those people who he considers dear to him. A man who deems himself and his existence as "very wrong". "Wrong from the start."

It feels as if some people are reluctant to bring up aspects of him? Brought up before it feels as if a layer or aspect of Ayin is taken and then the other parts of him fall to the wayside. Not quite sure where to go with this but it's a thing that feels as if it occurs. I say feel for I can't find any actual concrete examples so I won't say 'notice' or that it 'totally does happen!' so I'll leave that thought as this small section since I can't elaborate further

Ayin is Fucked. Absolutely, thoroughly. Yet in a way that the patterns and rationale for being brought to that point is understandable of How. I can’t find it in me to look for sources right now but from what I remember it’s as if Carmen was his only source to strive for. A blinding beacon that wasn’t like any other who had an earnest wish to save and support those inside this hell hole of a City that so easily seems to cut down and devalue life. One stated to be of survival where fear needs to be consumed to continue on living. Of one so focused upon advancements where the idea of empathy has degraded, systematically at least in that stand point. Endless continuation stepping over the bodies of others. Yet Carmen was always said and shown to be so vastly different. It feels as if he kind of clung to her in a way. As if a whole part of him physically Died the moment she could never smile anymore. Almost extremely dependent. It's easy to see how a man so attached could end up doing such things if it seems as if the person he felt took his Being away when she died asked it of him. Do I think that Ayin was doing this completely inside of how she would’ve wished or wanted? NO. She literally states herself that her goal wasn’t to become a wing yet L corp ends up as a wing for reasons relating to the monitoring of the Head. One of MANY examples, the other being the, oh I don’t know, numerous amounts of bodies they had to step over with. Perhaps the "Unique cruelty unable to be found in any other wing." Yet it's also stated that Ayin’s very heart is described as a void where the pieces of a heart used to be or something along those lines. That he shows a crushing and suffocating amount of guilt for everything. That he closed his eyes and ears to everything to become numb. Yet a facet of himself still basically berates and Knows deeply and regrets for if he didn't why the Hell would Abram exist? Yet, again, this brings into the fact that just because he regets it all and shows remorse and a want for repentance if he doesn't actually end up doing something relating to it or even communicate it to others it, on its own, won't 'Mean' much. I say 'mean' as emotions do, even if not communicated, have weight. But also this is a man who had done horrific, heinous shit. Let's see some Change, brother, come on man stop getting stuck inside that cycle and idea of the inability to move forward or change the past actions you also hate and the path you took that stripped you away of what could be considered your 'humanity'. Learn to. Well. Live. Live with it, too. Which is a whole thing they're trying to get people to do. Live. Not just survive. Practice what you want to bring forth and preach, man. Even if it were for the sake of another. Do it for her...

[Next part is from souly the perspective of someone that has yet to Play LOR but will soon.]

On the idea of how they handled him at the end of Lobcorp…. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I HOPE. I HOPE that they bring him back. Not in a way to where he has to be an active figure, but more of to where he can’t just fade away or forgotten the way he yearned to. I want that fucker to face what he has done. I don’t want him to be able to fulfill the Seed of Light Project and that’s it. There’s so much he has to atone for. It feels almost cheap to just have it seemingly stop at day 50 the way it did. I Want him to be able to atone [not to be confused with needless and endless berating for it will get nowhere]. To try and own up to his actions. To be that ‘better person’ he so deems himself incapable of being constantly. To not ‘Fade’ like he so wants to and actively yearns for and that want to die. No one has to forgive nor forget. I don’t want that shit to be swept under the rug so doing such a thing would feel flat. Gaping wounds he left behind hadn’t ever been fully addressed. The Sephirot found their reasons and ability to keep going in the Company but never really any active repentance or show of remorse Directly To Them by Ayin. Hey, big problem with Ayin, He Doesn’t Communicate Or Express when he is feeling things. One of the only reasons we as the viewer are even able to sort him out internally is because we see it all from His View. God I just HOPE that they do something more with him. They made a character that encompasses all of the struggles and pains of the others, yet not just used as a narrative device for ‘hey, get better and push on! Face your past! Confront it and even if you can’t find the ‘Answer’ or ‘Reason’ to now, just the ability to change and face and bear it is a start to even begin to Live!’ I know it was likely due to time constraints or how the game itself is structured. The days system that’s limited with the further details on Ayin and Carmen being crammed into the later parts after the rest as the lower layer seems to be implemented near the final parts when they actually added Carmen as an entity entirely from what can be reviewed and recalled at the moment. Either way, I really want him to finally not be a bitch when it comes to the others and actually start expressing that love he so feels for the rest by Doing something for Them. Instead of it all just being the project or bringing them back which was, indeed, a goal they all wanted but it was also done by the huge drive to finish Carmen's dream and will. Not for the Sephirot themself though perhaps there was also a drive to do it for them but I cannot say as it was never stated from what I can remember. I want him to do something, anything for the people he forcibly brought back. For Them. To Them. Directly. Hell, even him having to go ahead, even after seeking to fade ‘fading’ actively, to try and build up something be it physically or mentally to give back to the world he took too much from and caused so much pain to would be nice to see. It won’t make it better nor will it ever erase what happened, but it will be Something. Finally.

There are many parts I missed. Still so much I want to talk about. But I’ll stop here as this already is so much. I hope it’ll be at least somewhat interesting or informative to try and help with your curiosity on the matter

Tl;dr. Ayin. I love him because of his various parts that cannot be separated that make up the whole of this man I can't stop myself from being enamored with. I mean parts mentally and literally. I'm getting the ice pick for him to make this a REAL Lobotomy Corporation

probably going to regret asking this, but I want to know what the vibe is:

I know opinions are gonna be very complex, just choose the answer closest to what you feel. explain in the tags if you must.

And only choose "played LobCorp" if you've actually played the game, any level of completion. "haven't played" covers other ways of experiencing the game, like let's plays, wiki reading, secondhand knowledge from later entries, etc. I want to specifically understand any difference in opinion between those who have/have not played.

#[LCorp]#I would say 'this is my general thoughts' but that feels as if I didn't just admit this was over 3k words at the start #It's SOME of my thoughts. Some. I wish it could be all but then we would be here all day #I hope this isn't Too much...#[Long Post]#It feels very different of an experience than having Not played it as how much of A sees and built this place is intertwined with how the #game presents itself I suppose... It hit far more hard for me than just reading/watching a play through. Especially core suppressions #Sorry for not having some examples or sources for some when others do. It felt wordy at times and also I got uhhhh Lazy after a few hours #It's just a ramble and nothing that can count as 'analysis' or the sort in my standards so it felt like far too much effort that would--#only serve to burn me out. Still I hope it can be of some interest or use #Never clarified: Played it completely of all days though I am at the moment still getting 100% on the second run #Perhaps it may sound harsh on the idea of 'forgiveness' but that is also in part due to my own inability to property 'quantify' or #go ahead and deem what is 'forgivable' and what 'isn't' when it doesn't come to obvious extremes. Or what 'forgiveness' really is at the #-- core of it all...#I would include a part about angela bit i am Not Equipped Enough to even BEGIN talking about her #im so so sorry angela...#General thoughts on her treatment even from a lobcorp point and some things i was able to see on lor. hey. hey what the FUCK #i do feel sympathy even still. then again i feel sympathy of people who horribly mistreat me just say 'sorry' in an earnest way #so im not the best person to go to for that. will i stop someone from beating him up the head with a metal pipe?...#...no.

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manebioniclegali · 2 years ago

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No one:

WebComics titles: I Found A Man in My Basement!

#is it because chinese titles can get very wordy due to translation?#post originally from March 30 2019 but it's been stuck in my drafts #i suppose this isn't just a manhwa (?) issue bc some anime titles are like this #but it happens more often on the webcomics app #also you're more likely to find poor translations on there i.e. stilted English #one i was reading had good translations until partway thru when suddenly the characters started talking odd

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geminiwritten · 12 days ago

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photos ; tyler owens

fandom: twisters

pairing: tyler x reader

summary: you’re in a perpetually bad mood because you're in love with tyler and he's clueless, but what happens when you 'accidentally' send him some scandalous photos?

notes: two in one week?! that's crazy! but also i decided to write for someone other than bradley bradshaw (tg:m) because my love for him is all consuming... it still is, but i really hope y'all enjoy this little fic! it was so fun to write, and please, give me all the feedback!

warnings: swearing, very horny without being smut but STILL ONLY 18+ PLEASE, drinking, taking and sending of naughty pictures, use of tinder, text / message screenshots, italics, references to the movie 13 Going on 30, some pet names (e.g. babygirl, baby, darlin'), use of the word 'bimbo' but it is regretted, and this is actually pretty wordy but it kind of had to be?

word count: 7251

Lily flops into the lawn chair beside yours. Her dreadlocks are half up and she isn’t wearing the same clothes that you’d seen her in half an hour ago. She must have just showered.

She offers you the packet of gummy bears in her hand as she settles back into the chair. “So, who are we trying to set on fire?”

You turn to face her, dragging your eyes away from said person you’re metaphorically trying to set on fire. “Who do you think?”

She giggles, the packet in her hand rustling as you take a handful of gummy bears. “He’s so clueless.”

“He’s so stupid,” you mutter, before shoving the candy into your mouth.

Tyler Owens, famous Tornado Wrangler and your best friend since you transferred to his high school in sophomore year. You’re not sure why he took a liking to you when you showed up on your first day with untied laces and a torn backpack. You’d been running late and got your backpack caught on a particularly spikey tree branch as you bolted from your parents’ car toward the school’s front steps. You’ve always assumed he felt bad for you, so he offered you his friendship. But to this day, he maintains that wasn’t the case, despite not giving you any other explanation as to why he would have wanted to befriend the weird new kid.

“I wonder what it’s like to have everyone fall all over you all the time,” Lily says, her eyes watching Tyler with curiosity as opposed to your scorching attempt to telepathically light his hat on fire. Or maybe just the leg of his pants. Nothing too crazy, you don’t want him to get hurt. You just want him to stop talking to that gorgeous woman.

You blow a long, tired breath out through your nose. “I wonder what it’s like go after what you want.”

“Sweetheart, how many times do I have to tell you.” Boone appears from behind you, stepping in front of your lawn chair and blocking your view of Tyler. “I’m right here. If you want me, take me.”

You roll your eyes, a small smirk ghosting over your lips. “Oh, Boone. You see right through me. I want you. I need you. Take me right here in this chair.”

Lily giggles at your sarcasm while Boone blinks slowly, trying to process what he just heard. When a full-blown grin splits across your face and laughter bubbles from your lips, he sighs. “You’re such a tease, woman. Don’t play with my heart like that.”

Before you can respond, Tyler steps up beside Boone and claps a hand on his shoulder. “Boone, you sweet idiot, you can’t tell a siren not to sing.”

Your smile is quickly replaced by a scowl. “Siren?”

Tyler nods, turning the full force of his gorgeous grin on you. “Yeah. The beautiful kind with the sweet voices that lure sailors-”

“To their death.” You push to stand and cross your arms. “They’re also not beautiful, they’re half bird. And they eat the sailors. So, you know what? Sounds like they've got men figured out.”

You turn and stomp up the stairs to the second floor of the motel you’re currently staying at. You know you seem a little childish, but you can’t help it. How many years are you going to have to watch Tyler with those fucking buckle bunnies before you break? Granted, there aren’t so many actual buckle bunnies since he quit bull riding, but they’re all the same to you. Drop dead gorgeous women hanging on for a piece of the man you’ve been in love with since junior year.

After a hot shower and a couple of overpriced minibar drinks – three little bottles of various alcohols – you fall onto the motel bed. This place is nicer than most of the other establishments you've stayed at, and the deadbolts on the door are giving you a sense of security you rarely have. Half the time you end up in Tyler’s room because you don’t feel safe behind the flimsy doors of dodgy motels, but you’ve resisted the past few weeks.

You’re just about at your breaking point where Tyler Owens is concerned, and you’re not sure how much longer you can keep up this best friend bullshit.

Your phone dings and draws your attention away from the Friday night movie playing on the small TV screen. You know who it is before you even see the notifications.

Your thumbs hover over your phone screen, poised to type but paralysed because you can’t decide what to say. Tyler is too nice and too fucking oblivious. You’re still too irritated to be nice back to him, so you sigh and smack your phone face down on the bedside table. You grab the remote and turn the volume of the TV down before curling on your side to watch the movie.

As the movie draws to an end and your heavy eyelids start to droop, a cold wave of realisation washes over you. The credits start to roll and you sit up straight, suddenly wide awake. Your eyes dart toward your phone, still sitting on the bedside table, and the bud of an idea begins to bloom at the forefront of your brain.

You tip your head and wonder aloud, “Is that a stupid idea?”

Mark Ruffalo was in love with his best friend – Jennifer Garner – but she didn’t see him that way until it was too late. Maybe you need to force Tyler’s hand? Make him see you that way. You’ve known each other since you were both awkward, hormonally challenged teenagers. You can’t really blame him for not seeing past your horrendous struggle with puberty.

You jump off the bed and strip out of your shirt and sweats, only briefly acknowledging the fact that the shirt actually belongs to Tyler. You open your duffel bag and dig right down to the bottom to retrieve the one set of nice lingerie that you own. You’re not sure you’ve ever actually worn it out, you’ve only ever used it for the exact thing that you’re about to do now.

After changing into the pretty lace set and double-checking the curtains are drawn, you grab your phone and stand in front of the full-length mirror fixed to the motel room’s wall. You’re no Victoria’s Secret model, but you do know how to pose to make yourself look fucking good.

You twist and move in front of the mirror, taking pictures and analysing them before taking some more. You move the lamp and switch the ceiling lights on and off for different shadows and effects on your body. You take off half the set and try the front facing camera for some more risqué poses and teasing photos. By the time you finally decide you should go to bed, you’re actually sweating.

You prop your phone face up on the small bathroom vanity as you brush your teeth and swipe through the photos. You giggle softly to yourself, wondering where you possibly picked up the audacity to think that sending Tyler some sexy photos was a good idea. Looking at them now, your stomach curls anxiously at the idea of sending these images to your best friend – you blame the minibar. Yeah, they’re fucking hot photos, but it’s also an incredibly risky thing to do. There’s a good chance he’s already thought of you in that way and just decided that he’s not interested. What if he saw the pictures and was actually disgusted? It would ruin your friendship and the whole crew's dynamic. You’d have to pack your shit and leave.

Your second thoughts and anxiety still don’t stop you from favouriting the best photos as you crawl back into bed. You can still use those pictures if you ever decide to get over Tyler by getting under someone else. You put your phone on charge and snuggle into a nest of pillows, letting your heavy eyelids fall shut. Maybe tomorrow night you can get drunk and flirt with someone hot and available, and then you can show them your sexy photos.

The next day starts like any other. Dexter and Dani use the motel’s communal barbecue to cook a greasy breakfast while Tyler gets coffees for everyone, and then it’s time to work. There isn’t a lot of promise in today’s blue sky, so you spend half the day at the motel before going for a five-minute drive to the nearest diner for lunch. You insist on riding in the RV instead of Tyler’s truck, but you regret it immediately after seeing his confused hurt-puppy face.

“So, where are we going out tonight?” Boone asks before popping a fry into his mouth.

Tyler shrugs, his green eyes darting up from his burger to look at you across the table. “Any bar around here that looks good.”

“There’s a decent place just around the corner from the motel,” Dexter says. “I’ve been there once before, I think. A year or two ago.”

“There’ll be a tonne of chasers there tonight,” Dani pipes up. “Truckloads of ‘em were pulling into the motel all day, and after such an uneventful Saturday, they’ll be wanting to blow off some steam.”

Tyler nods once. “Good. I need to blow off some steam too.”

You keep your head tipped downward so no one can see you roll your eyes. Yeah, you’re still a little mad at him even though he has no idea why. You know it’s stupid, but you can’t help it. Every time you see his ridiculously gorgeous face, your anger flares. Or is that just pent-up horniness? Maybe if you get laid, you might stop being so mad all the time.

Boone chuckles and nudges Tyler’s side. “Need a blow, do ya, T?”

Warmth flushes across your chest and creeps up your neck. Images of Tyler standing over you flash through your mind, his jeans down around his ankles and his thick length hitting the back of your throat.

Tyler chuckles, but it’s a little wooden. Strained. “You have no idea.”

“Gross,” Lily states, before pretending to gag.

Boone grins. “We’ll find you a lady tonight. Don’t worry.”

Dexter scoffs. “Like he needs help with the ladies.”

You swallow down the green-eyed monster trying to claw up your throat and finally look up from your plate of fries. “Is everyone done? Can we go back now?”

Although you avoid looking at him, Tyler is watching you curiously. His brows are pinched and his lips turned down ever-so-slightly. He knows you, and he definitely knows something is up. If you don’t fix your attitude soon, you’re going to have to explain a lot more than you’d like.

“I was actually going to go to the pharmacy in town,” Dexter says. “I need to pick up a few things.”

“Me too,” Dani adds.

Lily raises one hand in the air. “I’ll tag along too, if that’s okay.”

Tyler pulls his keys out of his back pocket and hands them to Boone. “Then Boone can drive the truck into town and I’ll take the RV.”

You frown. “And me?”

Tyler grins. That breath-taking, panty-melting type of grin. “With me. You said you wanted to go back.”

You roll your lips and nod slowly. Yep, you just played right into his hand.

The group stack their empty plates and gather their things before shuffling out of the diner. You’re the first out the door, dropping your sunglasses from the top of your head to your nose and gazing up at the blue sky. The buttery sun soothes your skin, and you suddenly realise that you can’t remember the last time you went to the beach. You might need to take a break from chasing soon. Who knows, maybe Tyler will kick you off the crew because of your childish attitude. Then you can go to the beach and enjoy sunny weather for once.

“Ready?” The man himself appears beside you, tossing the keys into the air before catching them again.

You don’t reply, you just nod and start walking toward the RV. The others call their goodbyes across the small, gravel parking lot, and you give them a lazy wave as you pull yourself up into the passenger’s seat of the RV’s cabin.

“You wanna drive?” Tyler asks, his southern drawl in full force as he stands in the open door of the driver’s side.

You’re already in the passenger seat, pulling your seatbelt across your body. “You know I hate driving this thing, Ty.”

He chuckles and hoists himself up before pulling the door shut and jamming the keys into the ignition. He takes a moment to adjust all the peripherals before turning the key and easing the big vehicle through the parking lot.

“So,” he says as he turns out of the lot and onto the road. “Want to talk about it?”

You keep your gaze fixed out the windscreen. “Talk about what?”

“Your mood.”

You keep your voice light as you reply. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He rolls his eyes and presses harder on the gas, urging the RV to pick up speed toward your motel. The drive isn’t long, you just have to keep your attitude under control for four more minutes.

“Look,” he starts again, his hands gripping the wheel tight enough to turn his knuckles white. “I’m not going to pretend that I know what’s wrong. All I do know is that something is wrong and has been for a while. You know I like giving you your space. We’re all so on top of each other when we’re out on the road, it’s important to remember that we all need a break sometimes. But whenever you want to talk, I’m here. You know that. I’m always here.”

You can’t help it. Your lips move before you can even think about the words that they’re saying. “Except when you’ve got a better offer.”

His head snaps toward you. “What was that?”

Heat blooms in your cheeks and your heart races anxiously as you see the turn for the motel up ahead. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Is this all because of me?” His head swivels as he tries to read your face while also watching the road. “Did I do something to upset you?”

“No,” you lie. “It’s not always about you.” Fuck. You’re on a roll today.

Thick silence fills the air of the cabin, and you can’t let yourself look at Tyler because you know you just hurt him. He’s not a bad guy. In fact, he’s one of the best guys you know. But he’s oblivious to the way you feel, has been for years, and you can’t help it if your frustration is manifesting in an ugly way.

The RV rocks as it climbs the driveway into the motel. He parks in the same spot as before and you practically fall out the door the second the vehicle is stopped. You don’t look back as you climb the stairs toward your motel room. You slam the door and flop onto the bed, too frustrated to cry and too full of self-pity to think about apologising to Tyler.

You spend the rest of the day in your room. At six o’clock you get a message from Lily asking if you’re still coming out with them, to which you reply with a thumbs up. You’re not mad at Lily, but she at least knows why you’re in a foul mood. However misdirected your anger might be.

You shower and change into that lacey lingerie set from the photos, deciding that tonight it’s going to get its debut outing. You slide into a pair of jeans and your nicest top before adding a touch of makeup to your face and walking out the door. When you’re on the road, you don’t really have a whole lot of nice clothes for going out, but you do feel a little pleased when you see your pretty reflection in the motel windows on your way along the balcony.

“Why don’t you wear those jeans more often?” Boone asks from the bottom of the stairs as you descend.

“Because then you’d be too distracted all the time.”

He grins and offers you his hand for the last few steps. “I’m always distracted by your beauty.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “God, Boone. You’re such a flirt.”

He chuckles and guides you to the bottom of the stairs before letting go of your hand and walking off toward where Dexter is packing up some of the equipment he’d been tinkering with this afternoon. Eventually, everyone meets in the parking lot and the group decide to walk, because the bar is only around the corner.

It’s already pretty busy by the time you get there, but you manage to find a tall bar table that seats all of you while Tyler goes off to get the first round of drinks. Your friends quickly dive into a discussion about what the next week could bring and where you plan to go from here, but your eyes are glued to Tyler.

He’s leaning forward against the bar, a huge grin split across his face as a very gorgeous bartender takes his order. She has a smirk on her lips that says she gets what she wants, and by the way she’s looking at Tyler, you don’t have to guess that he is what she wants tonight.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and scroll to the last page of apps you’ve ignored for almost a year now. Dating apps. You’re not a fan of them, but if anything, they’ve helped you get laid. You open one and enter your log in details before adjusting your location and starting to quickly swipe through a few profiles. You know it’s dumb, and you’re feeling more along the lines of pathetic than horny right now, but you need something to think about that isn’t Tyler fucking Owens.

“Turns out I’ve been here before,” Tyler says as he drops the tray of drinks onto the table. “The bartender said she remembers me.”

Of course she does.

Boone wags his eyebrows suggestively. “The hot bartender?”

Tyler chuckles, but he doesn’t turn to ogle at the bar like the rest of the group. “I guess she could be considered attractive.”

“You guess?” Dani slams her drink back down on the table. “Come on, T. Your standards can’t be that high.”

He shrugs one shoulder and takes a long draw from his beer. “What can I say?”

Before you have the chance to roll your eyes, your phone vibrates in your hand. You lean back and unlock the screen, angling it so that neither Lily nor Boone can see from either side of you. Two messages from a guy name Owen. Of course. It couldn’t be a Jack or a Sam. No, the universe just loves making fun of you too much.

Well, that was easy.

You slide your phone into your back pocket before picking up your drink and draining half of it. You can feel Tyler’s eyes on you, but you ignore him. You keep your gaze fixed on Dexter as he tells an animated story about the last time he was at this bar.

The next time you pull your phone out, you have a few more messages from Owen. He tells you that he’s working late at the local liquor store but can meet up later, which you happily agree to – it seems stupid to pretend that you’re in this for anything other than sex. He then asks for your number, because the store he works at has shitty reception, so you give it to him and wait for his first text to set him up as a new contact. Who knows, maybe the next time you’re in town you could hit him up.

The night wears on and you continue sinking drinks to keep yourself happily buzzed. There are more chasers here just as Dani had predicted, and your group ends up scattered throughout the bar catching up with old friends. You manage to avoid Tyler for most of the night, but it isn’t easy. He watches you like a hawk, analysing every little move you make and practically breathing down your neck every time you slide your phone out of your pocket.

You tap Lily on the shoulder. “I’m going to the bathroom and then getting another drink. You want?”

She shakes her head and waves a hand. “I’m good, thanks.”

You nod once and turn toward where you think the toilets might be. You pass Dexter, who is chatting with a group of chasers you don’t recognise, and then Dani and Boone, who are giving a dramatic retelling of the last close call you all had.

You find the bathrooms and slip inside. You lock yourself in the first stall, shimmy your jeans down, and sit. Then you pull your phone out to reply to Owen. He’s polite, not too creepy, and seems to have no issue being honest. He’s telling you that he’s excited to meet up, because it’s been a long week and he really needs to get laid. You find yourself smiling at your phone as you reply, telling him that you’re feeling the exact same way.

As you wash your hands and gaze at your reflection in the mirror, you start to realise that maybe you’re a little more buzzed than you thought. Not that it’s a problem, because a little liquid courage always helps you out when it comes to one-night-stands, but you might need to start watching what you say. Alcohol can be a very dangerous catalyst for honesty.

When you step out of the bathroom, it feels even more crowded than before. You almost have to shoulder your way to the bar. Once you find a spot, you lean your forearms against the wood and squint to see what draughts they have on tap.

The gorgeous bartender that served Tyler earlier steps toward you. “Hey hon, what can I get ya?”

You try to wear a polite smile as you tell her your drink, but you can’t help feeling that it just looks twisted. She nods and starts pouring. You fish into your jeans’ pockets for cash before dropping it on the bar as she hands you your fresh schooner. The first sip is crisp and delicious, but quickly ruined by what you see across the room.

Nestled in the corner by the front of the bar is Tyler and some blonde bombshell who looks like she just walked out of a rodeo-themed photoshoot for Victoria’s Secret. They’re leaning on one of the tall tables, practically toe to toe, and she’s licking her lips as she watches him tell whatever stupid story he’s telling.

You storm back over to Lily with a scowl, but she’s too invested in her conversation to notice your renewed foul mood. You sit up on the barstool and take another generous sip of beer, letting the bubbly drink cool you from the inside out. Tyler is a grown-ass man. He can do what he wants, make his own decisions, and fuck whatever he pleases. You need to get over it.

After a couple of deep breaths, you’re feeling more sad than angry. But that won’t do either. You need to feel something positive, even if it is only fleeting. So you pull your phone out, lean away from the group of people chatting with Lily, and pull up your photos. Yep, those photos.

Your heart thuds heavily in your chest, your pulse ringing in your ears. This shouldn’t be so nerve-wracking, but it’s been so long since you’ve done something like this. It’s been so long since the last time you tried to get over Tyler Owens.

You choose three of your favourite photos. One is in the mirror, simple and saucy, showcasing the full ensemble. The second one is of you kneeling in front of the mirror, closer than the last and angled so that every curve looks a little extra enticing. The third photo is with the front-facing camera, the phone angled down to get your body instead of your face. You’ve taken off the top part of the set and you’re barely covering your nipples with one arm.

You’re not a vain or particularly conceited person, but you know these photos are good.

You squint and focus on your phone as you select the three photos and tap the ‘share’ symbol in the corner of your dim screen. It’s a little fuzzy through your beer goggles, but you don’t want to turn the brightness up right now, so you persevere. The share options fill the bottom half of the screen, and you carefully tap on the text messages app logo. A ‘New Message’ pops up, the little cursor blinking on the ‘To:’ line. You type carefully, O-W-E-N, and pick the contact that pops up. Then you hit that little send button.

The next few seconds pass in slow motion.

You look up from your phone and your eyes find Tyler across the bar. He’s smiling at the blonde, but then something else summons his attention. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and lifts it up to his face. His grin vanishes and his cheeks flush bright red at the same time that your stomach plummets. It falls so fast and so hard, you’re almost sure it’s fallen right out of your ass.

Your eyes go wide, and you can feel your heart beating in your throat as it tries to crawl up. Or is that all the beer you’ve drank tonight? You feel sick. You need to get out of here. Fuck. You need to unsend that fucking text.

“Are you okay?” Lily’s voice is distant even though she’s right in front of you, a hand on your shoulder.

“I, uh-” You slip off the barstool. “Gotta go. Feel sick.”

One glance across the bar has your stomach doing another gymnastics routine, flipping and spinning wildly, trying to expel every drop of alcohol you’ve consumed in the past few hours. Tyler isn’t with the blonde anymore, he’s weaving his way through the throngs of people toward you.

Luckily, you’re closer to the door than he is. You squeeze through a group of chasers who you kind of recognise, but you don’t give yourself time to get a proper look. You duck out the door and start walking down the street. You don’t want to run, you’re not sure your wobbly legs can manage it right now, and you don’t want to draw attention.

The motel is just around the corner. If you get there in time, you can lock yourself in your room before Tyler catches you. Then you can pack your shit and run. Like really run. Because fuck, there is no coming back from this.

You hear your name called out behind you, but you easily recognise his voice, so you don’t turn around. You keep walking, your footsteps heavy and your breath coming and going in ragged gasps. You open your phone as you round the corner, bringing up your text thread with Tyler that makes your head spin. You sent him those photos. Fuck. He must think you’re insane.

Your eyes narrow on the contact name ‘Owens’ with a little tornado emoji beside it. The universe is definitely laughing at you right now. You hold down on the photo message and look for the ‘unsend’ button. But there isn’t one. There’s a ‘delete’ button, but you know that will only delete it from your side of the chat. He’s got these photos now. There’s no going back.

He calls your name again as you turn into the motel. It’s not far now, you might actually make it.

You book it across the parking lot and start up the stairs to the second-floor rooms. Your fingers fumble for the key in your pocket as you approach your door. Your pulse is hammering in your ears. You don’t dare to look back because you know he’s close. You can feel it.

The key slides into the lock and you practically fall into the room. You spin on your heel and try to slam the door shut. It gets most of the way until a booted foot slides across the threshold. The door stills, five inches of light from the outside slicing through the dark motel room. All you can hear is your heavy breathing and the panting from the man holding the door ajar.

You close your eyes and steel your nerves. Maybe it’s time you quit chasing.

You take a deep breath and open the door again. “Yes, Tyler?”

He looks downright feral. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes are wild, his hair is mussed, and you’re pretty sure his hands are vibrating in fists by his sides.

“What”– his voice is so deep, it’s almost a growl –“the fuck was that?”

You tip your head, feigning innocent curiosity. “Was what?”

His eyes darken and he licks his lips. Like a predator sizing up its prey. “Don’t play dumb with me.”

“But I thought that was your favourite game.” You take a step back from the door. “Isn’t that why you’re always hanging out with those buckle bunny bimbos?”

You feel sick as the words leave your lips. You hate being a bitch and you hate that being frustrated and upset makes you one, but you can’t help it. If Tyler is going to have a go at you for accidentally sending him some photos, then you’re going to have a go back. Sure, your oldest and most important childhood friendship is about to blow up. But tit for tat is still important, right?

His eyes narrow and he pushes the door all the way open to step inside. “What are you talking about?”

You decide, for the first time tonight, to think before you speak. So you take your time. You turn and walk toward the bed before flopping down at the foot of it and bending over to unlace your boots.

“It was an accident.” You get one shoe off. “I didn’t mean to send those photos to you.” You get the other shoe off. “So, I’m sorry if your blonde friend saw them and freaked out. I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”

He pushes the door to swing shut behind his towering frame. “Ruin my night?”

You stand up, because he’s too intimidating right now for you to be sitting down.

“Wait.” His brows pinch and he glances at the floor before looking back at you with something fiery behind his eyes. “You accidentally sent them to me?”

You nod.

“Who the fuck were you trying to send them to?”

The venom in his voice startles you, and you rear back a little. “How is that any of your business?”

He steps closer. “It isn’t, but you’re going to tell me.”

You scoff. “Is that so?”

He takes a deep, rattly breath. You can see the muscles in his jaw ticking under the pressure of how hard he’s clenching. He’s so close that you can smell him. That intoxicating mix of fresh earth and cedarwood. He smells exactly like the dense air before a storm.

You startle again when he grips your chin, forcing you to stay still as he leans in even closer. “Babygirl,” he murmurs, warm breath fanning over your skin. “You cannot send me photos like that and then tell me they were meant for another man.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your eyes bouncing between his. They’re hardly green anymore, they’re black. His pupils are so blown, you can only just see a thin ring of colour around them.

“You think you’ve ruined my night?” he asks.

You try to nod, but his grip on your chin doesn’t let you.

“I’m gonna need you to use your words, darlin’.”

His southern drawl sends a shock of electricity right to your core. You can feel the ache building behind your hipbones, pulsing and growing and making you squeeze your thighs together.

“Yes.”

He chuckles, but it’s deep and dark and full of something other than amusement. “The only thing you’ve ruined is my fucking patience.”

You don’t know what to say. Your brain might as well be melting out of your ears as you stare at the hungry face of the man you’ve loved for God knows how long. All you can do is blink at him, wondering when you’ll wake up from this dream.

“Who were you trying to send them to?” he asks again.

“Owen,” you reply, voice barely above a whisper.

He raises his brows. “Who the fuck is Owen?”

“Tinder.”

He lets go of your chin and rises back to his full height. “You were on fucking Tinder?”

Without his face so close and his paralysing touch, you feel a little more in control of yourself. You let your anger simmer and soak through your body, reminding yourself why you took those photos in the first place.

“Why do you care if I’m on Tinder?” you snap. “And why the fuck do you care who I send those photos to?”

“I care because no man on this planet deserves to see those fucking photos,” he growls. “No one is good enough to see you like that.”

You cross your arms and scowl up at him. “That doesn’t even make any sense, Tyler. What the fuck do you want from me? Do you want me to join a nunnery?”

He opens his mouth to reply, but you’re not done.

“You can’t just blow up at me about a couple of stupid photos and because I’m on Tinder. Who gives a fuck? I’m an adult woman who can fuck whoever she wants, and you’re a grown-ass man who doesn’t get a fucking say in it! Why don’t you just go back to screwing every woman in Oklahoma and leave me and my personal life alone?”

You’ve never seen Tyler this angry. He looks like one of those huffing bulls he used to ride. His chest is heaving, his knuckles are white, and his expression is angrier than any storm cloud you’ve ever seen – which is saying something.

“Is that really what you think of me?” His voice is surprisingly calm compared to his demeanour.

You nod once, keeping your expression as flat as possible.

He cocks his head, his eyes challenging. “Really? After all the years we’ve known each other, you think that I’m just some man-whore who’s making his way through the state?”

You don’t reply. What the fuck are you supposed to say to that? Of course you don’t think of him as a man-whore, but you can’t exactly tell him what you do think of him. You’re not even sure why you’re fighting right now. Shouldn’t you just be embarrassed and apologising? Wasn’t the original plan to pack your shit and get out of here? You should be packing a bag and high tailing it out of this stupid little town.

“When did you take those photos?” he asks suddenly, looking past you.

You glance over your shoulder to follow his gaze, finding the incriminating mirror. You sigh. “Last night.”

“Who did you take them for last night?” His voice is strained, as if he doesn’t really want to ask the question but he has to know.

You look back at him, studying his furious expression and fiery eyes. You’ve never seen Tyler so worked up. He looks like he’s in the boxing ring waiting for another blow, waiting for you to punch him again so he can unleash another torrent of misplaced rage.

Maybe it’s time to surprise him. Hit him where he’s least expecting it.

“You.”

His scowl vanishes and his eyes grow wide. His mouth pops open, like he’s going to reply but there’s no connection between his brain and his voice box. He’s paralysed.

You gnaw on your bottom lip, watching him anxiously. His eyes are scanning your features, looking for something – maybe he’s hoping your joking? He opens his mouth a couple of times, but he still can’t find any words. You let out a soft sigh and decide that you’re already knee deep, you might as well dive in.

“It’s stupid, but yeah, I took them with the intention of sending them to you.” You let your eyes trace the collar of his flannel shirt, unable to meet his gaze. “Then I realised it was a dumb idea, and I didn’t. But then I was messaging this guy tonight and when I went to send them to Owen, I hit your contact name… Owensss.” You emphasise the ‘s’ and swirl your finger, as if mimicking a little tornado.

When you finally look back up at his face, he doesn’t look disgusted or offended. He looks confused.

“Why were you going to send them to me?”

You groan and drop back onto the bed, hiding your face in your hands. “Really, Ty? Do I have to fucking spell it out for you?”

You split your hands and peak up at him, but his expression hasn’t changed.

“Fine.” You huff and stand up again, ignoring the way it makes your head spin. “Tyler fucking Owens, I’m in love with you. I have been since junior year of high school when you asked me to prom instead of any of those other girls who were falling all over you. I’ve been in love with you through every stupid boyfriend I’ve had and every dumb life decision you’ve made, and I was so sick of seeing you with other women that I thought sending you some embarrassing fucking photos would make you change your mind. But I know now that if you felt any special way about me, you would’ve told me by now. So please, just let me pack my shit and get out of here.”

“Get out of here?” he echoes. “Baby, the only place you’re getting is in my fucking bed.”

Before you can even process his words, he swoops forward and crashes his lips against yours. Your hands fly up to his shoulders, steadying yourself as he kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before. Your head spins and your knees wobble, but his arms wrap around your waist to hold you up.

He knows exactly what he’s doing, giving and taking as he pleases and making you moan against his mouth. His stubble scratches your chin and your cheeks, and your mind immediately imagines it rasping against your inner thighs. You want to squeeze your legs together, but he shoves his thigh between then, bending his knee so that you’re practically riding his leg as his lips assault yours.

You can’t stop yourself from grinding down, desperate for any kind of friction to ease the ache between your legs. When your lips part in a whimper, Tyler’s tongue slips past them, and he tips your head back. His mouth devours every little moan and sigh as you continue to ride his thigh. His hands grip your hips, hard enough to bruise, and they guide you up and down. You can feel his belt buckle digging into your lower belly, and you can feel his hard length beside it.

“Ty,” you whisper, your lungs aching for air. “Please.”

“Please what, darlin’?”

You almost whine as he drags you slowly up his thigh. “Fuck me.”

He chuckles, his breath hitting your damp and puffy lips. He stops forcing you to move and relaxes his leg, setting you back on your own unsteady feet. “You want me to fuck you?”

You nod, suddenly feeling shy with him looking at you so intensely after that.

“Okay, but I’ve got a few ground rules.”

Your chest deflates as you let out a long breath. Here it goes. He’s going to tell you that this is a one-time thing, that it can’t be weird in the morning, and that you can’t tell anyone else about it. You feel a little stupid for believing that he would kiss you for any other reason than the fact that he’s horny. You ruined his shot with that blonde bombshell and then sent him those photos, of course he’s horny. It doesn’t matter that you just laid yourself fucking bare. He probably wasn’t even listening to all that. You told him you’re in love with him and he told you to get into his bed. He either didn’t hear you or doesn’t give a shit.

“Hey.” He grips your chin again and forces you to look up at him, at those smouldering eyes. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it.”

You blink twice, unsure what to say.

“Rule number one-”

“Ty-”

He kisses you again, but it’s only quick. “No, let me finish. You had that whole speech before, so it’s my turn.”

You can’t nod because he’s still holding your chin, so you roll lips and wait.

“Good.” He lets go of your chin and puts a hand on each of your shoulders. “Rule number one is that no other person can ever see those fucking photos, you got it?”

You nod, and then he pushes you gently so that you’re sitting on the bed.

“Rule number two, you’re going to send me every single one of those photos that you took.”

Your brows pinch together, and he wedges a leg between your knees to push them apart.

“Rule number three, you’re mine now. Only mine.” He steps in between your legs and cups your head in both hands. “No more Tinder, no more bullshit. I’m the only one that gets to look at you and touch you, and I’m sure and shit the only one who gets to love you. You got that?”

Your mouth parts and he runs his thumb over your swollen bottom lip. “You love me?”

He grins. That breath-taking, panty-melting type of grin. “Since the first day you ran into class late. Your hair was all windswept and your cheeks were all red. You looked like you’d just fallen from fucking heaven.”

You can’t help the very unladylike snort of laughter that comes out of you. “Tyler, that is the lamest thing you’ve ever said.”

“But it worked. You’re smiling for the first time in who knows how long.”

He leans down and presses his lips against yours again, but this time it’s gentle. He urges forward and you slowly pull yourself further up the bed, being careful not to let your lips leave his. He crawls on top of you, placing a knee on either side of your thighs where you now lay beneath him.

“I think I’m going to have a hard time not smiling now,” you murmur against his mouth.

He pulls back and hits you with the full force of that gorgeous smirk as he holds himself over you on all fours. “You’re gonna have a hard time not screaming my name in a minute.”

You mirror him with your own cocky grin and press your palm against his hard length, restrained in his jeans. “You sure about that.”

He eyelids flutter shut and his lips pop open, a soft sigh escaping them. When he looks back down at you with dark, hungry eyes, you can feel your own arousal soaking through your panties.

“Oh, I’m sure.”

END.

#tyler owens #glen powell #twisters #tyler owens x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #one shot #oneshot #imagine #glen powell x reader #twisters movie

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brokenphoenix99 · 28 days ago

Text

"type out a little message instead"

ヾ( ᗒ‿ᗕ )っ💌

YES!!!! That's such a cute way of putting it. Leave a little message for your authors!!

psst fanfic readers

you just finished a mind-blowing fic, and you want the author to know you loved it! you tap the 'kudos' button, but that smug little smiley face pops up to taunt you instead. you've already left kudos on this work!

don't despair!

scroll down just a little farther, tap the 'comment' button, and type out a little message instead! it can be anything! your comment can be as short as 're-read kudos' or as long as the comment box will allow!

your presence in the fic was logged as a hit as soon as you opened it -- so if you liked it, let the author know! don't let them watch the hits pile up on the story they put so much work and heart into, just to feel like nobody enjoyed it. especially not if you want to continue having stories to read. silence is how you kill creativity

#THIS!!!!!! OMG THIS.#i often see people write “i wish i could leave a Kudos on every chapter” ... and I'm like.... 🤔👀 ... but you CAN!!!#it's called Leaving a Comment #you can just say that you LOVED it! you can just say THANK YOU. it doesn't have to be wordy or an analysis of themes or characterisations #the thought of leaving a deep analysis of themes or characterisations terrifies me LOL. so i live blog how it made me FEEL...#and this works for me!! and it's FUN!!#but Havoc i LOVE that you said “leave a little message instead”. Calling comments a “MESSAGE” is such a cute idea.#and maybe it will feel a little less daunting #i was so nervous to comment when i first started reading - and yes there are fics that i read that i didn't comment on in the early days 🥺#but i started SMALL... a thankyou and some keysmashes and some I LOVED THIS!!'s and then it got easier!! and MORE FUN!!!#& yes I'm prone to leaving long 'live reaction' comments ... but i also sometimes only have the spoons for a short & simple comment #so PLEASE leave a “message” on the fics you read and enjoy. it DOES get easier!#let your authors know that you're OUT THERE... LOVING their works. they they aren't screaming into the void. 🥺#when i hit that Comment button i get a little hit of seratonin too!!!#l'm excited to know that the author gets a PING that someone left a comment!!!#and maybe it brightens their day as much as their fic brightened mine #I've made the bestest of MOST beautiful friends and i can confirm that writers will feel motivated to write MORE!!!#just gobbling up fics without at the very least saying “thankyou for this delicious food” is just like eating a friend's home cooked meal #and staying silent. 🥺😟#... and then EXPECTING that they make you dessert and THEN be grateful that you ate it (in silence). 🫤😒#please if i can encourage ONE reader to step outside your comfort zone and Leave a Sweet Message on the next fic you read -#i promise it will feel GOOD!! and if the author replies!!! PHWWARRrrr!!! Oohh boy!! YAY it feels even better!!!#commenting #comment culture #fandom etiquette #fanfic comments #writers 🫱🏻‍🫲🏼 commmenters #look im not a writer so this is purely as a fellow reader... PLEASE comment/'leave a message'... and fandom will be 1000% more fun for you.

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daemour · 1 year ago

Text

I Can See You

Pairing: single dad! Seonghwa x babysitter! f! yn

Word Count: 10,137

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, a creepy old man in one scene, age gap (10 years but both are adults (and not just barely)), smut warnings under cut

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, single parent au, M for mature audiences

Summary: When you took a job babysitting a young toddler, you didn't expect to be so drawn to the family. And more specifically, her frustratingly hot and single dad.

Smut Warnings: masturbation, sexual fantasies, riding, slight (if you squint) corruption kink, sliGHT breeding kink, unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS unless you discuss safely outside of sex!), breast play, overstimulation, undiscussed kinks (yn is fine with it. but discuss your fucking kinks guys *gun emoji*), slight cumplay

thank u to @pyeonghongrie and @mingsolo for beta'ing and for the title hehe <3 this is also a collab with @potatomountain who is also writing a dilf hwa (Bittersweet Neighbours), we're just on two sides of the spectrum lol...and this is so damn long

“Hello, I’m here for a babysitter interview with a Mr Park?”

“That would be me. Miss (Y/N)?”

When you answered the ad in the newspaper about babysitting, you were so ready to see an older man, around his fifties. But this man looked so young, around his late twenties although you’re sure he’s probably forty. And you’re not one to judge—nearing your mid-twenties one wouldn’t be expecting you to still babysit as a full-time job. But it pays the bills and helps you get some hands-on experience in your degree, child development.

“Ah, yes. That’s me,” your words spill out as you realise he is awaiting an answer. Mentally, you berate yourself for the immediate blunder while Mr Park’s eyes crinkle with amusement.

“Come on in and make yourself comfy on the couch. I’ll be right there. Would you like anything to drink?” Mr Park’s voice is smooth like butter and you have a hard time making sure you don’t get lost in it.

Again, you nod, actual wordy responses jumbled in your brain, walking to the couch and sitting down almost mechanically. If you were mentally present, you would have noticed the smile the older man sends your way.

He doesn’t take too long, returning with two glasses of water. “You didn’t say what you wanted to drink so I just got you water. Is that okay?”

Thankfully, you finally can respond coherently and smile, albeit a little shakily. “Yes, thank you so much.”

You take the glass with both hands, thanking him again quietly and taking a small sip before just holding it as you wait for him to be seated. You’ve felt awkward before, but this is a new extreme. Normally you pride yourself on keeping your cool in front of someone you think is hot, but Mr Park…he’s something else. You try your best to keep your eyes trained on the coffee table, only letting yourself glance at him occasionally so he doesn’t realise just how in awe you are.

“Jihee will be home from school soon, so you’ll see her soon. For now it’ll just be old me and my questions,” Mr Park starts his interview as soon as he sits on the couch across from you. “Now, I saw in your application that your major was in child development? Can I ask why that interested you?”

You blink at him for a moment, not expecting that question. Sure, bringing it up was expected, but the way he sounds like he’s interviewing you for a position in a company amuses you. “Uh…I just grew up with a lot of siblings and their kids. I’m the youngest of six, and the oldest is sixteen years older than me so I have a lot of nieces and nephews as well. Children have always been a part of my life, and my first job was babysitting so it’s something I’m very used to. Child development was just a way for me to learn even more and in a less… hands-on way. Poopy diapers are not my favourite.” You pause. “Not that I can’t change them! Or that Jihee uses them. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

You’re so sure your face is bright red right now as you stumble over your words, and you’re ready to be kicked out, but all Mr Park does instead is laugh at your embarrassment. It’s a little mean but it’s better than your worst conclusion so you’ll take it. “It’s okay,” Mr Park smiles at you. “It’s okay to ramble, it was actually quite amusing. Now, I’d just like to warn you, Jihee has trouble with working on schoolwork. While that usually isn’t an issue, she may be asking you to help her with her homework and reading and I just thought I’d give you a heads up. Would that cause any trouble?”

“It wouldn’t bother me, and I’ll try my best. I took children’s education in college as well so it’d be a good time for me to exercise that,” you laugh quietly. Your first dream was to be a governess, no matter how few jobs there are for that type of work.

Mr Park nods thoughtfully. “Glad to give you some experience in that,” he hums after careful consideration, a smile on his face. “Her struggles lie in understanding the problems and in English. If she faces any difficulty then I can always help out.”

Before either of you continues speaking, his watch beeps and he glances down. Without another word, he stands and goes to open the front door. “Uh–” Your confusion escapes you before you can stop it.

“Oh, Jihee’s almost home and I always leave the door open for her,” he explains, eyes still trained on his watch. “You’ll get to meet her, and then we can discuss more details. And just to reiterate the ad, this is going to be a job that requires a lot of hours. I, of course, will be paying you for any sort of overtime if I need to stay at the office later. Does your schedule still allow for that?”

You hold back your smile. Your schedule mostly consists of scrolling the internet for job opportunities and eating lunch with your friends. “Yes, I can do that,” you affirm. “I’ll need holidays off, but I assume that’s a given as you’ll also be with Jihee?”

A smile pulls at the corner of Mr Park’s mouth. “Very astute,” he chuckles. “Now, here she comes.”

The door swings open without another word from either of you and a little girl dressed in pink and ribbons barrels into Mr Park’s knees. He lets out a quiet grunt, stabilising himself against the door as his hand strokes at her hair. “Hello, Jihee,” he hums fondly. "How was school today?"

The young girl beams up at her father. "So fun!" she grins, her words slightly slurred in her excitement. "Today, Mrs Lee had us do shapes and my favourite colour is blue now! I have so many blue crayons."

Mr Park's eyebrow raises at the mention of crayons. "Do you have them with you?" he asks, and Jihee nods vigorously. "Can I see them?"

Another nod comes from the child and she immediately plops on the floor, pulling out her pencil case and opening it to reveal at least ten crayons, all of varying sizes. What stands out to you the most is that half of them are green. "See! All blue. But this one's my favourite." She grabs at a particularly long and skinny one, a shade of emerald green.

"Ah. Lovey, remember, your colours are a little different, right?" Mr Park talks in a gentle voice, very different from the very adult voice he used with you. "That's a green crayon."

Jihee's face drops. "Oh." Her bottom lip juts out in a pout.

Mr Park holds out his hand and Jihee drops the crayon into his palm. "You can't take the crayons from school anyway, dear. Why don't we leave these in your bag and you can give them back and apologise to Mrs Lee tomorrow?"

Jihee's pout grows bigger but she nods. "Okay, daddy," she agrees and Mr Park nods proudly.

"Now, do you want to meet your new friend?" You flinch as Mr Park mentions you, sitting up straighter in your chair before ultimately deciding to stand instead.

"Hi, Jihee," you do your best to speak with the same quiet tone Mr Park used. "I'm (Y/N)! It's nice to meet you."

You offer your hand for her to shake and Jihee looks at you, her thinking face almost a spitting image of her father's before she walks over and takes your hand with gusto. "Hi, Mrs (Y/N).”

"Ah, I'm not a Mrs," you correct her. "You can call me (Y/N)."

"Miss (Y/N)," Mr Park quietly interrupts and you nod, not wanting to override his parenting although being called 'miss' will catch you off-guard for the time being. "Why don't you tell her one thing about yourself and then Miss (Y/N) has to go, okay?"

Jihee's mouth twists in sadness, her hand still gripping yours. "Okay," she sighs again. "I get to talk to her more later though, right?"

Mr Park nods. "Of course. Miss (Y/N) will be spending a lot of time with you, so I'm glad you like her."

Jihee nods solemnly. "I like pretty people and you're super pretty," she tells you earnestly and your heart swells at the compliment.

“Thank you, Jihee,” you thank her genuinely, although you’re amused at the fact that she considers her appreciation for physical looks a good introduction to herself. “It was nice to meet you.”

With another decisive nod, Jihee turns and marches right off down the hall, presumably to her room. Mr Park turns to you, finally shutting his front door with a sigh. “That was Jihee. Ball of energy extraordinaire. She comes home from school at one-thirty, and will put her own things away before coming to eat a snack. She has one worksheet to do a day but with your help she’ll get it fairy quickly. I’ll email you a list of house rules.”

You nod. “That sounds perfect. What would the schedule look like? What time would I be here, and when would I expect you to come home?”

Mr Park hums, running a hand through his perfect hair. “For her school days, I’d like to have you in here maybe ten minutes before she comes. I’ll always leave her snack in the fridge and you can just pop it in the microwave and make yourself comfortable before she comes barrelling in. Then I’ll be home at five-thirty sharp whenever possible. Every other Saturday I’m in the office for eight hours and you’ll be watching Jihee for those days. If you can’t do a Saturday, just let me know so I can get someone to watch her, but generally I’d like you here from eight to five.”

You nod. All your friends have atypical work schedules so your Saturdays are empty in general, and since the weekdays are shorter hours you don’t mind. “When it comes to after-school playdates, should I expect you to be home or would you like me to take care of them?”

Mr Park’s lips tighten almost imperceptibly. “That won’t be an issue. Jihee doesn’t do playdates.” Your curiosity spikes at his short answer but his tone leaves no room for discussion so you don’t press it. “I’ll give you a key now. Tomorrow is my off-Saturday but if you can come in just to adjust yourself that would be great. I have some work to get done anyway so I’ll be mostly out of your hair although you can still ask me questions.”

You nod again. “Yeah, that works,” you confirm after a quick check to your phone calendar. When you look up, Mr Park is already holding out a key and you take it after a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Mr Park nods, moving to open the door when Jihee calls out with a whining tone to her voice. “Daddy, I need help!”

Mr Park sighs but it’s full of affection for his daughter. “I would walk you to your car but she calls for me,” his head dips into an apologetic bow but you shake your head.

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile at him. “There’s no need for that at all.” That is one of the main reasons, but another part of you doesn’t want him to know you have no car and you take the bus to his neighbourhood and then walk the rest of the way.

A twenty-four-year-old with no car? It’s a little embarrassing, especially in the area you both live in where it’s almost required to have a car to do anything. Generally, your babysitting jobs were close enough to your home, but the salary of this job enticed you to give up walking.

As you exit, you can hear Jihee starting off her complaints about her jacket and you smile to yourself subconsciously.

You’ve been working with the Parks for almost a month now and generally, it’s a good time. You only really see Mr Park when he comes home, but by then you have one foot out the door. There are days when he looks so beaten down that you want to offer him some encouragement, but you don’t want to step out of your boundaries. So, you just keep your head down and leave.

Jihee is sweet and easy-going, not hard for you to get along with. She always has some sort of fun idea for you to play along with and her schoolwork hasn’t been too terrible although you dread when she starts getting into more difficult maths.

But today, as soon as Jihee walks into the door, you suspect something is wrong. She doesn’t greet you as excitedly as she used to, just stalking straight into her bedroom and coming right now, settling herself down on the couch with a pout on her face.

“Jihee, don’t you want to eat?” you try to coax her to the dinner table, but she just shakes her head, immobile. You frown. It’s strange for the usually talkative child to be this closed off. “Did something happen at school?”

Jihee glares at the coffee table, shaking her head. “No,” she mutters but her cold-stone facade drops immediately as she suddenly bursts into tears. Your heart drops for the child crying on your couch and you immediately run to her and pull her into your arms. “Why don’t they like me?” she wails into your shirt and your heart drops.

You had suspected it when Mr Park shut down the playdate idea very quickly, but this just solidifies your thoughts. How could the kids at school not like such a sweet kid? As you’ve been working for the Parks for quite a bit now, you’ve grown to adore the young girl like she was one of your own nieces.

You don’t say anything just yet, just patting her hair and doing your best to calm her down. It takes almost an hour but now she just curls up in your arms, her hands gripping your shirt as she’s so close to falling asleep. You don’t have the heart to wake up so you resign yourself to letting her sleep on you for now.

Within ten minutes, you fall asleep as well. It’s not what you meant to do, but you couldn’t have stopped yourself. When your eyes open again, Jihee is no longer in your arms and there’s a large fluffy blanket laid on top of you. You blink yourself awake before panic sets in and you shoot up, looking around. “Jihee?” you call out and hear deep laughter behind you. When your head snaps back you see Mr Park chuckling at your face.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Miss (Y/N).”

It takes a minute for your words to register, blinking stupidly at your employer for a few moments before your face drops and you practically leap off the couch. “I’m so sorry!” you cry, bowing rapidly at a low angle. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep and it won’t happen again.”

You keep your eyes lowered and you look up at him through your lashes, scared of how he’ll react but to your surprise, Mr Park’s smile grows and he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, you looked comfortable and the doors were locked. Jihee didn’t get into any trouble, just was a little bored since you were asleep.”

You shake your head. “Regardless, I shouldn’t sleep on the job but thank you for the kindness. Jihee is very responsible for her age and it certainly reflects on your parenting.” You smile back at him.

“Well, thank you for your kind words. It means a lot to me as well,” Mr Park hums. “Would you like to join us for dinner? I know you usually leave around the time I get back but let me at least feed you before you go.”

You frown. “I’d like to, but I should get going,” you say absentmindedly. “I have to make it in time to catch the bus.”

You’re looking around, trying to gather your belongings, when you realise how silent Mr Park is. And in turn, you realise what you just said. “You take the bus?” His voice lowers and you stare at the look of concern he has on his face. “It’s practically dark by the time you leave and you’re walking to the bus stop by yourself?”

“Ah– it’s okay! It’s not a far walk, just up the street.” You hurry to defend your choices, waving your hands. “I’ve gotten home safe so far, no?”

Mr Park shakes his head. “No, you can’t take chances. I’ll drive you home tonight after dinner. You must stay.”

You stare up at him with wide eyes, but his stance is unwavering. And as much as you would usually protest—being taken home by a much older man would usually ring alarms in your head—the idea of not having to wait in the cold and the dark by yourself is very appealing. And from how you’ve interacted with him before, Mr Park seems very sweet, and you trust him just a little more than you probably should.

“Well, I do thank you for your kindness,” you sigh, nodding your head in concession. “But this will be the only time.”

Mr Park chuckles, not taking you seriously. “We’ll see. Now come on. Tonight is beef stew and my younger brother will come for dinner as well.”

“Uncle Uyu is coming?” You can hear Jihee’s excited voice coming from the kitchen as well as her feet pittering on the floor as she launches herself into your lap. “Hi again, Miss (Y/N).”

“Hello again, Miss Jihee,” you tease, pressing the tip of your finger to her forehead and Jihee giggles.

“Are you staying for dinner?” You nod again and she screeches in happiness, not giving a second glance at how you wince at the sound. “I can’t wait! I have to make you pretty! Come with me.”

With as much seriousness as she can muster in her body, she pulls you by the hand into her room as Mr Park watches the two of you with a soft smile and follows the two of you into Jihee’s room. He takes a seat on the bed as Jihee fusses over your hair, styling it with her toddler's hands and putting an obscene amount of hair clips into it. But you’re whipped for the little girl and you let her do whatever she wants, ending up in two uneven pigtails and a plethora of Hello Kitty clips.

“Daddy, isn’t it pretty?” Jihee giggles, moving your head to tilt so her father can take a look at her work. “It’s better than your hair to practice!”

Mr Park, mock-affronted, holds his hand to his chest. “Betrayed by my own daughter? Alas, but I can let it slide as this may very well be your best work.”

Jihee giggles, pressing her face against your cheek when the doorbell rings. “Uncle Uyu!” As always, her focus is diverted by any new thing and she runs for the door, both you and Mr Park following shortly after. As she yanks the door open, a man around Seonghwa’s age greets her just as excitedly, bending down to pick her up and spin her around.

“Jiji,” he cheers, “Already so big?” His eyes find you and you offer a small wave. “And who’s this? Seonghwa, you found a girl?”

Mr Park’s jaw drops and your eyes widen as you rush to contradict. “Oh, no, no, I’m just the babysitter. Mr Park has kindly invited me for dinner.”

Wooyoung chuckles at the look on both your faces. “Don’t worry, I just like to pull on Seonghwa’s leg. You’re a little young for him too.”

You offer a smile. “Yeah, and the forties are a little out of my age range as well,” you try to joke, but to your surprise, Wooyoung breaks out cackling, startling Jihee who starts laughing with him confusedly. Mr Park’s shocked face has somehow become even more intense.

“You think I’m how old?” Wooyoung has reigned in his laughter although a smile still pulls at his lips. “I’m only thirty-four!”

A gasp made its way out of your mouth as you start bowing rapidly again in apology. “I’m so sorry! You look your age, I just assumed you had to be older.”

Mr Park sighs, although an amused smile now graces his face. “It’s okay, I can understand it. I’ll just be giving you a hard time from now on.” He punctuates with a wink and your eyes snap down to Jihee in embarrassment.

“Let’s get on with dinner so I can go home and just melt in embarrassment, okay?” you groan and the two older men laugh. Jihee seems to agree with your sentiment, declaring her hunger grumpily and you laugh and pick her up. “See, even Jihee’s on my side. Let’s eat now.”

Mr Park hums, stepping aside. “All right, I see I’m outnumbered now. I hope you don’t mind how casual this dinner is, but I promise the food is worth it. Wooyoung’s the better cook, but he’s taught me a few tricks.”

You shrug. “Any food is good food to me. At home, I have instant ramen and fried rice so it’s a nice change.”

Out of disapproval, Mr Park shakes his head although the smile does not leave his face. “I do not miss my college diet. Please, take a seat.” He motions to the dinner table, pulling out a chair for you to seat yourself, sitting beside you as Wooyoung and Jihee join the other side of the table.

“So, tell me about yourself (Y/N),” Wooyoung hums, leaning on the table by his elbows. “You’re in college?”

You shake your head. “I graduated a year and a half ago, I’m twenty-four now, but it feels like just yesterday I was taking my finals,” you chuckle. “What was your major, Mr Wooyoung?”

Wooyoung smiled, “Please, call me Wooyoung. Mr Wooyoung just sounds weird. But to answer your question, my major was culinary, of course. Before I taught Hwa how to cook, he was hopeless. I think I was feeding him and Jihee primarily other than his sandwiches and canned soup.” He sighs, leaning back and smirking at Mr Park whose ears are red.

“Hey, Youngah, I paid you for your work. Don’t make me seem incompetent,” Mr Park snorts, leaning over to smack the back of his neck. “Wooyoung may be eight years younger than me but he certainly acts like he’s five.”

You laugh at the banter. “Me and my siblings were the same way. We’d always fight but in the end, we care for each other. It’s sweet to see you guys act the same.” You smile, taking a bite of your stew. “Thank you for letting me sit in on your family dinner.”

Mr Park shakes his head. “Of course. Can’t let you walk on your own at night, you know. I’d be happy to give you a ride home from now on.”

“Ah, no, I can’t make you do that,” you try and decline again but Seonghwa is having none of that.

“It’s not a matter of making me, I offered. I can’t let my babysitter just stand around in the dark. Let me do this for you. Jihee cares for you, she wouldn’t want to make you get hurt.”

You frown, pursing your lips. “I suppose I can’t argue with that,” you concede. “Thank you once again.”

Mr Park shakes his head, his hand moving up to ruffle your hair. “Don’t worry about it.” His hand rests atop your head a moment longer before he remembers who he is in relation to you. “Ah, sorry. Habit from Jihee.”

The heartfelt moment is cut loose by everyone amused at Mr Park’s habit. Jihee immediately takes the initiative to start rambling about stickers, engrossing everyone in the conversation, Wooyoung being particularly vocal. The dinner is finished with no other events, and you offer to help clean up, ignoring Mr Park when he tries to protest.

“Thank you for helping out,” he tries to thank you but you wave your hand dismissively.

“You fed me and are driving me home. It’s the least I could do. Shall we head out though? I don’t want you to have to leave Jihee for too long.”

Mr Park nods, grabbing his keys and jangling them as he opens the door to the garage. You do your best to not show your surprise at the sight of his fancy car. Of course, you knew he was well off, but you never imagined you’d actually be sitting in his car. He even opens the door for you, letting you slide into the passenger seat.

You hold yourself stiffly, but Mr Park looks over and just laughs at you. “Relax, I’m not going to bite you. Just let me know where to go and we’ll be set. Want a piece of gum?”

He holds out a pack of gum and you gladly take the piece, happy for the distraction. Most of the car ride is silent, except for you telling him occasionally where to go. But as he pulls up to your street, he slows to a crawl.

“You know, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around.me. Sure, I’m your employer, but I’m also a dad. I got the dad instinct, you know?” Your lips twitch at his attempt to be comforting. “Really, though. Don’t hold yourself so tight around me. I don’t mind doing this for you.”

You turn your eyes down. “Thank you. I’ll try, it’s just a little weird for me if you understand. But I do appreciate everything you’re doing for me.” As you unbuckle your seatbelt, you smile at Mr Park. “I hope you have a good night.”

As you go to your apartment building, Mr Park leans out of his car and calls after you. “You can call me Seonghwa, (Y/N). Mr Park makes me feel old.”

You laugh at his admission. “We’ll see, grandpa!” You can’t help but tease him before running into your home, leaving an amused Seonghwa outside.

These days you and Seonghwa have become a lot more friendly. He’s taken to driving you home despite your protests and during the car rides, some interesting conversations have happened. For example, you learnt that he built his company from the ground and yet is respected in many old money circles.

Okay, maybe you didn’t learn that from a conversation, and instead just searched on the internet. But what can you say? You’re curious about the man who happens to be your charge’s father and the man who happens to be very very handsome.

Maybe you have a bit of a crush on Seonghwa, but you couldn’t blame yourself. There was something about him. It is the aura he holds himself with, the kindness in his smile when he arrives home, and it helps that he is hot. Every so often, you can’t help but find yourself glancing at his pretty hands, or his well-toned arms, and you have to look away before heat spreads up to your ears.

You’re down bad, and it’s not getting any better. Every time you see Seonghwa, you want to jump him but it would be inappropriate. Not only is he your employer, but he’s also a decade older than you. There’s no way he would be interested in you, he probably sees you just as some kid.

With a sigh, you look down at your sketchbook. Today was supposed to be a fun day. Both Jihee and Seonghwa were off today, so you were spending the day with her as Seonghwa was still called into the office to put in some extra hours. But then the toddler fell sick and you were tasked with taking care of her.

At least it was a fairly easy job—Jihee slept most of the day and you were free to work on some of your more personal projects. Although your passion lies in children, you do enjoy drawing and even took a couple of classes in college. As you lay on the couch sketching, you get so lost in your mind you don’t even register the door opening and the footsteps coming towards you.

“Is that me?”

A shriek rips its way out of your throat as you do your best to whirl around and hold your drawings to your chest, but your legs get caught in the blanket and you instead fall half off the couch to the ground. Your chin props your head up on the ground but your legs are still tangled on the couch, your arms twisted into the blanket, the sketchbook an arm’s reach away.

“Hi, Mr– Seonghwa. How was work today?” you mumble half into the carpet, too embarrassed to look up. “Jihee’s taking a nap in her room.”

After a moment of silence, Seonghwa laughs, although it’s a little pained. “Uh. Do you need help up?”

You groan, pulling one of your arms out from your cocoon prison. “That would be great, thanks. Sorry.”

One of his cool hands gently takes your elbow as another comes to rest on your back. It’s at the moment you realise your shirt has ridden up. You can’t help but tense at the touch, hoping the embarrassment doesn’t show on your face. “Jihee’s taking a nap?”

You’re grateful he chose to brush over the incident. “Yeah– yeah. She’s not much better, but she’s not much worse. It’s just a simple cold, so she needs to sleep it off.” You chose to ignore the hand lingering on the small of your back, instead scooching back on your butt to distance yourself just a little bit. He’s your employer, there’s no way you can give in to your feelings.

But the couch seems to be against your plans, as when you try to pull the blankets off your feet you tumble into Seonghwa’s legs, knocking him down as you land on his firm chest. Your face is mere centimetres away from his and you freeze. “I–” you stammer out, Seonghwa equally as awkward.

“Sorry–” He tries to sit up, but it just results in the blankets twisting tighter and pulling you two even closer together. You swear if you could hold your breath, you could feel and hear his heart beating. “Ah, shit.”

You can’t help but laugh a little at his profanity, not something you’ve ever expected to hear from him. “Welcome back, Seonghwa.”

Seognhwa’s eyes widen, his blush deepens, and his head snaps away from you. Your brows furrow at the change in his features and you can’t help but wonder if it’s from the proximity, or if it’s the proximity to you specifically. “Ah. Let’s get out of this, shall we?” he coughs. He carefully detangles himself from the pile and holds out a hand to you.

You grasp it, noting his firm grip and letting him pull you up. “Thanks.”

“I’ll drive you back to your apartment first since Jihee’s asleep right now. It won’t take long.” While Seonghwa’s voice remains warm, his eyes move away from you.

Suddenly a guilty feeling pools in your stomach and you turn away as well, bending to pick up your sketchbook silently. “Of course.” The disappointment fills your head as you internally admonish yourself for even trying to entertain your fantasies of the older man.

But, to your surprise, a warm hand pats you on your shoulder. “You are good at art, (Y/N). You should continue to pursue and practice it, even as just a hobby.” His words make you look up into his eyes and you see a sparkle behind them. “You’re a talented person, and you should take advantage of it.”

“Thank you, Seonghwa,” you smile at him again. “Once again, I appreciate the kindness you offer me.”

Seonghwa chuckles, spinning the car keys as you’ve quickly found out is his habit. “(Y/N), thank you for putting up with such an old man who can offer you nothing but kindness.”

You snort. “You’re not even that old, you geezer.” In retaliation, Seonghwa leans over and pokes you in the forehead.

“Oh, hush and let me take you home.”

It’s been almost six months since that day and your feelings have only intensified. But this time, you swear perhaps he may be returning your feelings too. Sometimes you catch him looking at you with a gentle smile, and his hand on your shoulder lingers a little longer than you think. But then he talks to an employee on the phone and you remember how accomplished he is. Even if he wasn’t much older than you, there’s no way you would fit into his lifestyle.

And, like any self-respecting person would do, you start to avoid him. What else are you going to do? Tell him? You’d be crazy to even entertain the thought. There’s no way he would even take you seriously.

These days you’ve just been going to work, and heading straight home. Seonghwa barely has time to catch you, and you’ve been plotting with Jihee to keep him away. She doesn’t quite understand why, but it’s fun to her so she’s happy to. You’re pretty sure half your wallet has gone to sticker sheets. But no matter how many stickers you’ve bought, it doesn’t help Seonghwa from figuring out something is amiss.

It’s your one day off and you’re spending it at home, lounging around and just watching movies while you sulk about your tangled feelings. Watching all these romantic movies doesn’t help at all and you groan. There’s no way you’re going to act like a lonely teenager, you declare to yourself. You’ll go to a club! Maybe meet someone closer to your age and you won’t feel like a wet sock anymore.

That’s it, you’ve convinced yourself. You’ll give yourself a night out. Suddenly inspired, you throw off the blankets covering you and start donning your nicest clothes. There’s a club you used to frequent in your college days, and you haven’t been back since you got the new job. It’d be nice to let loose again.

As the nighttime approaches, you’re almost all ready to go. You have your outfit and your makeup, and all you need is your shoes. Once you pick out your favourite pair of heels (comfy and not too high), you make your way down. You can feel the excitement pounding out of your chest and you can’t wait to get the night started.

As you enter the club, your body immediately relaxes as you take in the atmosphere. It’s been so long, you’re just excited to have fun. Get drunk, find a nice guy, and forget your problems. You down drink after drink, hyping yourself up, but as late night comes, nothing happens. With a sigh, you plunk down your last drink, feeling the buzz of the alcohol burn in your veins.

Nothing will happen tonight, and you just have to come to terms with it. You place down a couple of bills to pay off your tab, tip, and stumble out of the bar. You’re plastered. You can hardly walk in a straight line and you lean against the cool brick for a minute, letting the sensation sober you up a bit as you do your best to call up a taxi.

But before you can do so, a hand creeps onto your bare waist and your head snaps up to see a man, no younger than fifty, leering at you. “Uh, hi?” you slur out, your hands fiddling with your phone as you try and discreetly move to the phone app. You may be plastered, but you’re not a fool and you know what could happen in this situation.

Unfortunately, the old man seems to know what you’re trying and he grabs one of your wrists. “Now, pretty lady, take a break there. Why don’t you come hang out with me for a bit?” His words are greasy and slimy, and you almost gag at the idea of what he’s insinuating. At least Seonghwa isn’t triple your age…and he’s hot.

“Ah, no thanks,” you manage to push past him, pressing your most recent contact and holding the phone to your ear. “I’m a little uh…” You’re cut off when whoever you call starts speaking.

“(Y/N)? Why are you calling me? It’s nine.” Seonghwa’s voice crackles through the receiver. “Are you okay?”

“Ah, shit,” you groan, stumbling to your side and colliding with the wall. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you. I’m just out and–”

Once again, the old man approaches you and pulls you back by the waist. “Come on, pretty. Get off the phone and pay attention to me.”

You shake your head and pull away again, moving even more down the street. “No, no, I’m not– just leave me alone. I want to go home,” you say, shaking your head, still holding the phone to your face. “Just…I wanna go home.”

“(Y/N), are you okay? Where are you?” You can hear the worry in Seonghwa’s voice rise and a faint jingling of keys. “I’m going to get you. Wooyoung’s here so he can watch Jihee. Talk to me, (Y/N).”

“I’m at the club Desire. Or near it. I don’t know.” Your head is muddled and no matter where you look, the street signs are blurring and the old man is still trying to get your attention. “I just want to go home,” you repeat, tears springing to your eyes. “I thought I told you to leave me alone!”

The old man growls at your tone, grabbing at you again. “Don’t be stupid, child. You can come home with me and I’ll teach you how to be proper for a man like you.” His breath reeks of alcohol and bad breath and you instinctively slap him across the face. Surprised, he jerks back, and you take a couple of shaky steps back again.

“Leave me be! I don’t want you near me.”

The old man’s eyes narrow at you and he takes one menacing step forward, his hand raising to strike you but you bring up your arms to block the slap, whimpering in pain when the hit lands and your phone clatters out of your hand. “You insolent child!” Your eyes squeeze shut and you hope Seonghwa gets there soon.

Seonghwa has never driven so fast in his life. He’s racing through the lights and he counts his lucky stars that they’re all green and that the police aren’t around right now. He can hear arguing coming from his phone and he’s calm enough knowing you’re at least still on the phone. But then he hears a noise and what he assumes to be your phone falling on the ground. “Fuck,” he mutters to himself. “Please, please be okay, (Y/N).”

Stepping on the gas, he roars around the corner to the club you mentioned, praying you’re still there. As he gets out, he’s looking around but can’t seem to find you. “(Y/N)?” he calls out. “Where are you?”

He races down the street to find you pinned against the wall, your hands attempting to push an old geezer away and he sees red. He marches right up, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from your shaking figure. “Fuck off,” he growls in his face, delighting in the fear that moves across his face. “Don’t let me catch you near this place again. Now fuck off!”

He practically throws the old man to his knees before turning and cupping your face. “Seonghwa,” you practically sob. He can still see the drunken haze in your eyes but it’s almost completely cleared up now and his brow furrows even more.

“Come on, I’m taking you home.” He pulls you along and you do your best to keep up with him in your inebriated state. “I can’t believe you would do this! Have you no sense of security? Why didn’t you get anyone to come with you? Why would you call a taxi outside of the establishment?”

He still opens the car door for you and you slide immediately in, eyes staring wide at the pristine dashboard. He slides in and puts the car in the ignition before sitting back and groaning in frustration. “I hope you’re ready to talk as soon as we get inside,” he gripes. “I still am so shocked, (Y/N). You act so mature about Jihee, but what happened then? You could’ve been hurt…no, you were hurt!”

He continues his rant driving up to your street, ushering you into the elevator and into your place. “Do you know how my heart dropped when I saw you struggling? I don’t want to see you hurt. You need to take care of yourself.”

As he yells at you, his eyes rake over you to see if you’re injured any further, but something else stops him and the words die in his throat. You’re wearing a sheer shirt, your lacy bra underneath just showing off your chest. Your leather skirt has ridden up your thighs and your eyes fill with unshed tears. And something burns in his brain.

It’s been months since he hired you, and with each passing day, he finds himself more and more attracted to you. He berated himself every time these unwanted thoughts popped into his head. Sure, you’re sweet, good with kids, and are passionate about what you care about. But you’re also so young. You can do so much better than him, a single father with no prospects.

But seeing you like this, heat sparks in his gut and he leans in, his face mere inches away from yours. “When you wear things like that, it makes me want to rip them off you and do things even that creep couldn’t even imagine,” his low voice pierces through your thoughts and your mouth gapes open.

“I’m okay with that,” you whisper, hand reaching out to brush against his chest, but Seonghwa blinks as he realises what he just tried to do, and he jerks back. Your eyes flash with hurt and Seonghwa would like to hit himself for doing that to you but he can’t let you come onto him when you’re still drunk.

“I– I’m sorry,” you whisper, your hands reaching behind you to steady yourself on the wall. “I just felt so lonely. I wanted to be wanted.”

Seonghwa’s breath stutters as he stares down into your wavering eyes. “I–” He wants you so bad. But he can’t bring himself to say it. Not when you’re drunk. “Go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”

He turns away and hears your disappointed sigh alongside your footsteps trudging to your bedroom. With a groan, he sits on the couch with his head in his hands. He wants to reassure you, but he can’t help but feel guilty about it. But he’s still straining in his pants and after locating your bathroom, he sits on the shower bench, leaning against the cool tile and breathing in and out. With a groan, he unzips his pants and pulls out his half-hard cock. The feeling of regret rises but he pushes it down to his gut as he spits in his hand and presses his thumb against the head of his dick.

As he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps it, he can’t help but close his eyes and imagine you. You with your mouth wrapped around his cock, with your hands gripping his thighs. You seated on his throbbing member, grinding your hips against him as you lean down to kiss him. He can feel his dick jump and he wonders what it’ll feel like to fill you with his cum.

He lets out a broken moan as his grip turns tighter. His image of you would scratch your nails down his back. He can almost hear your little whines and breathy moans as your hips work over him. You’d lean in and whisper into his mouth, “Seonghwa, fuck me hard,” and—

Seonghwa sighs as he looks down at his cum-coated hand and the mix of shame and relief swirling around his brain. Maybe he should just go to sleep on the couch and hope he doesn’t dream of you. As he washes his hand and goes to lie down, he can already feel a stress headache coming on. He hopes you’ll at least fare better in the morning.

When you awaken, you have a throbbing pain in your head and you groan and roll out of bed. You’ve taken your club shirt off as well as your skirt, but your bra and underpants are still on. You’re sure your makeup is smudged too and you have no clue how you got home but all you want is some coffee and oatmeal.

You trudge to the kitchen, rubbing your eyes from sleep. There’s a blanket fallen on the floor so you toss it onto the couch and head straight into the kitchen to start your coffee maker. As you lean against the counter and yawn.

“(Y/N), are you feeling better?”

A voice calls out from behind you and you shriek, whirling around to see a sleepy Seonghwa, blanket wrapped around him and his hair a mess. You shriek again, realising how little you’re clothed and duck behind the counter, your cheeks flaming and your heart beating faster than you ever thought it could.

“What are you doing here?” you force out, your voice tight.

“Do…do you not remember last night at all?” You do remember most of what happened. He took you home, but that’s about as far as you remember. And you’re not sure you want to know the rest of it. But you’re far too embarrassed to admit, so you put your acting skills to use. You’re not sure you can handle the shame of a real conversation.

“What?” you ask, forcing your voice to pitch higher as you slowly stand back up, hands covering your chest. “I didn’t– Oh my God, I’m so sorry if I came onto you. I was drunk, I must’ve been out of my mind. Please accept my deepest apologies.”

You notice Seonghwa’s eyes trail down to your chest and then snap back up to your face as if he’s forcing himself to and he chokes out a breath. Despite the headache, your mouth twitches. Maybe you’re still a little out of it. “No, nothing like that. I fetched you from the club because you called me to save you from a creep. Then I took you home and we slept.”

You sigh. “I’m glad. I do apologise for whatever my behaviour was. It was out of line and it won’t happen again. I understand if you want to let me go–”

“No!” Seonghwa’s outburst surprises you and your eyes widen. The lack of clothes you’re wearing has been long forgotten and you move around the counter to stand in front of him. Seonghwa has the decency to look a little embarrassed at the volume of his voice. “Sorry. I just…it’s like you’re a part of our family already. I care for you just as much as I care for Jihee.”

Ah. He thinks of you like a child. Your suspicions were right. You turn slightly to face away from him, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “I see. Well, I appreciate that. It’s nice to have a second family,” you chuckle, internally beating yourself up. How could you even entertain the thought of the two of you being together? “Let me change, and I’ll walk you out.”

As you return to your room, you finally let your heart sink as tears brim in your eyes. You hastily wipe them away as you rummage in the pile of clothes on your bed for something fairly appropriate to wear. First, you make a fool of yourself in front of Seonghwa, and then your crush is unfounded. You can’t seem to catch a break.

With a sigh, you pull on some shorts and a large shirt before heading back out. “Hey, (Y/N), could we talk first?” Seonghwa asks, still standing in between the kitchen and the living room as his eyes flit around nervously.

After some hesitation, you finally find your voice. “Sure? What’s up? You can sit on the couch if you want.”

Seonghwa takes a seat, hiking up his sweatpants and you move to the floor across the little coffee table. “Last night…you told me something.” Oh no. This is it. You bite your lower lip and look down, awaiting his next words. “Uh. So. You think you came onto me, right? Well. It was. Uh. It may have been me.”

You blink at him foolishly as your brain tries to wrap itself around your head. “You what?”

Seonghwa raises his hands and lowers his head ashamedly. “Let me explain, please. I saw you outside with that horrid excuse of a human and something in me snapped. I just wanted to protect you and I brought you home. But seeing you in that outfit? It just made me want you. And I told you. And you reciprocated. At least, you tried to.” He chuckles a little to himself, bringing up his hand to grip at his hair. “I told you we would talk in the morning. But one thing you said stuck with me. You wanted to be wanted. And all night I’ve been thinking about it. (Y/N), you were drunk. But you weren’t that drunk. Something you said had truth to it. Please. For my own sanity, tell me how you feel about me. Please.”

His voice cracks at the last syllable and something in your heart hurts at the sound. “Seonghwa I…I do care for you. More than I should. You’ve shown me unbendable compassion and you’ve never taken my words or myself for granted…or treated me like a child. Against my better judgment, I’ve fallen for you.” You sigh, tightening your fists. “I’ve been hating myself for the better part of six months because of it. You were so much better than me. In job, in maturity. What was I supposed to do? I went to the club to forget you, but it appears that didn’t work.”

Seonghwa stands quickly, shuffling over to kneel in front of you. “How could you think such a thing? Me better than you? Don’t make me laugh. I may be older than you, and yes, I have a better-paying job. But in the end, how could you compare? You’re amazing with Jihee. You’ve managed to teach her in ways I could hardly hope to imagine. And just because I have a higher wage doesn’t mean your job is less important. I wasn’t lying when I said it felt like you were already part of the family.”

“You told me you thought of me like Jihee,” you argue, and Seonghwa laughs, leaning forward to take your hands.

“I said I care for you as much as I care for Jihee. Not in the same way, (Y/N).” Seonghwa smiles kindly. “I know if this does happen we’ll need to put a lot of care into this, but if you’ll have me, I’d like to be with you.”

You’re not sure whether this is a dream or not, staring up at Seonghwa with wide eyes. You’d be a fool if you said no, but the worries in your head won’t seem to cease. Taking a deep breath, you push them aside and smile up at him. “I’ll have you, Seonghwa.”

As soon as the words fall out of your mouth you can see Seonghwa’s eyes crinkle as he smiles and leans in, his nose almost touching yours. “May I kiss you?” he murmurs in his deep voice, and instead of gracing him with a reply, you meet him in a soft kiss.

His large hands cup your face as he deepens the kiss, and his thumbs brush against your cheekbones. “You’re so pretty,” he hums, pressing a multitude of pecks to your lips. “Last night I was so conflicted. Seeing you like that made me almost go insane.”

An idea sparks in your brain, and a smile widens on your face. Your fingers crawl up his shoulders to rest your arms on them. “How insane?” you ask, and Seonghwa’s eyes darken.

“I’ll show you,” he grows before capturing your lips with his once again. This time his arms shift to wrap around your waist and he pulls you closer until you’re practically pressed against his body. You squeak at the sudden movement but it’s swallowed by the kiss.

He pulls you onto his lap and you can feel the growing hardness in his slacks. You wriggle your hips a little, grinding down, and the moan that Seonghwa lets out is heaven to your ears. “Fuck, (Y/N). You’re so pretty,” he repeats, burying his face in your neck and nipping at the sensitive skin.

You whine at the pain blooming into pleasure and your hands fist into his hair. Your precious sounds get to Seonghwa and he groans, moving your legs to wrap around his waist and he hoists you up and brings you over to the couch. “Your noises are so pretty, baby,” Seonghwa groans into your mouth. “Can’t wait to hear them when you’re wrapped around my cock.”

“Please–” is all you can muster out and your whines only serve to make Seonghwa’s cock harder in his pants.

With a groan, he pats your ass, motioning for you to move up. As soon as your hips lift, he grabs the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down to your knees, leaving your underwear and shirt on. In the same motion, he shoves his slacks and boxers down just far enough to let his cock spring free.

“Seonghwa–” you whine and something in Seonghwa’s stomach burns at the idea of you crying on his throbbing dick. He sits back, guiding you to sit right above his cock as he moves it to rub against your soaked underwear. Every time the angry-red tip of it brushes against your clit you let out breathy moans and it only serves to make Seonghwa impossibly harder.

“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer,” Seonghwa breathes, his free hand coming up to brush against your face. A smile blooms on your face as you bend to kiss him again.

“Then don’t.”

Something flips in Seonghwa’s brain and he lifts you, pushes your underwear to the side, and lets his cock press into you slowly. The both of you throw your head back and groan loudly at the feeling of him slowly filling you up. He’s not the biggest you’ve had but that doesn’t matter as the sting of the stretch is enough to make you drool. You can hardly speak as you whine nonsense into his ear and let your head drop to the crook of his neck.

“You fit around me so well,” Seonghwa praises, his head spinning at the feeling of finally fucking you the way he dreamed of. It was only yesterday he was fucking into his hand at the thought of you and here he is, only a few hours later, his painfully hard member inside of you. “Look at you, a mess for me. Bet you’ve never been with an older man before. Do I make you feel good, baby?”

You clench at his words. “Fuck, yes, the best I’ve had,” you babble, squirming at the already overwhelming feeling. “You’re so good to me.”

Seonghwa laughs delightedly at how gone you seem to be not five minutes in. “So precious, especially for me, (Y/N). Sitting on my dick so prettily.” He gives a little experimental thrust upwards and you gasp. The noises you make are so addictive, he can’t help but do it again. And again.

You’re panting, moaning as he fills you up so deliciously and your hands grip at his now-wrinkled dress shirt. His cool hands slide up your baggy shirt to shove up your bra and cup your boobs. The weight of them sitting in his hands makes him groan as he leans in to mouth at them through your shirt.

“Been dreaming about these tits since last night. Jerked off in the bathroom after seeing you, you know?” Your eyes widen at the admission and Seonghwa smirks at how embarrassed you look. “Wanted you so bad and you thought I wouldn’t like you in that way? You’re so cute, (Y/N).” He punctuates each word with one thrust after another.

The feeling of his dick pumping into you as well as Seonghwa’s teeth scraping against the soft flesh of your tits makes you so overwhelmed. It’s almost embarrassing how close you are already, and Seonghwa knows it, chucking up at you from between your chest. “Aw, baby, you’re so far gone. Am I that good?”

You cry out and sink your teeth into the junction of his shoulder and neck. You’re trying so hard to keep your noises down but Seonghwa isn’t having any of that. His hand finds its way to your hair, gently tugging on it until your head falls back, exposing the column of your neck.

As his warm breath ghosts over it, you stiffen, and when he moves up from your chest to lick a stripe up it and nip at your earlobe, you come with a groan. Your hips are shaking from the intensity of it but his thrusts don’t stop and soon you’re whining from the overstimulation.

And he still hasn’t come.

“Fuck, Seonghwa, it’s so much,” you groan, mouth hanging open. Seonghwa greedily swoops in to capture your lips once more, licking into your mouth as his thrusts become more and more erratic.

His dick twitches and he groans. “Where do you want me? I’m clean,” Seonghwa mumbles into your mouth.

You shift your hips a little. “I’m clean too and on the pill, so it’s on you. I don’t care, I just want you, Hwa.”

Your words spark something in Seonghwa and he thrusts upwards, once, and his cum starts filling you. It’s searingly hot, settling deep in your gut and you throw your head back and moan so goddamn loud. His throbbing cock is twitching like crazy and it’s still pumping cum into you. Seonghwa’s hand slides down your body to tweak at your nipples, thumb over your flesh, and finally come to rub little circles into your clit.

You gasp and it feels like you’re touching heaven from the extra stimulation. “Gonna fill you up so well,” Seonghwa groans. “Do you think Jihee would like a sibling?”

Your thoughts all blur together at his sentence and you come again with a groan. Your cunt squeezes around him so deliciously and a sob breaks its way out of your throat, one that Seonghwa eagerly swallows as he kisses you again.

His thrusts start to slow down and you slowly pull off his now-softening dick and settle back down on his lap. His hands push his leaking cum back into your pulsating pussy and you sigh at the feeling.

“Well, that was quite the escalation,” Seonghwa laughs quietly as he pulls both your and his pants back up and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. His hand pats your butt and you squirm and slap his chest softly.

“You’re lucky I’m on the pill.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly and Seonghwa hums, capturing your lips in his yet again. He can’t get enough of your plush lips and you’re not complaining at all.

“I’m lucky to have you, period,” he sighs happily. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

You smile and sit up, ignoring the whines that come out of Seonghwa’s mouth at the lack of contact. “Well, I couldn’t let you be a lonely old man,” you tease and Seonghwa smacks your ass again.

“Can old man do what I just did?” You’re suddenly lying on your back with Seonghwa hovering over you, a crooked smile growing on his face. “Or do you need another demonstration?”

You smile and throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer. “I don’t know, sir, maybe you should show me once more.”

With a nip to your lips, Seonghwa leans in and your eyes crinkle at the promise of what’s to come.

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