#that tiny guy lying on that other guy who's way bigger than him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cellophaine · 2 years

Note

hi, happy new year! first & foremost i love all your work, highlight of my 2021; it always got me giggling & kicking my feet LMFAO i was wondering if you could do a slow burn (the reader could be a vigilante working alongside daredevil), & it’s the enemies to lovers trope, with the italicized oh/ah for realization, angry love confession & all, if you know what i’m talking about. & one of them goes “please-“ in a breath of a whisper & the other just slams their lips into theirs. sorry if this is a lengthy request LMAO do what you want with it!

I'm very sorry for the 10-and-a-half-month-long wait! This was a long request, so I did try to put everything together in a way that makes sense. I hope you'll enjoy it!

Futile Devices

Pairing: Matt Murdock x GN!Reader

Word Count: 8222.

Warnings: Violence. Light angst. Enemies to lovers. A tiny mention of decapitation. Blood. Injuries.

Author's Note: I wrote this with a female reader in mind, but there's no mention or indication of Reader's gender.

Holy shit, this is the longest thing I've ever written. I hope you guys won't be bored to death lol.

*The events in this fic took place after Daredevil season 3*

GIF Credit

The familiar click of the coffee pot registered somewhere in his keen hearing, but he didn't seem to notice. Matt was going through a series of motions, scrambling his eggs, flipping his bacon, getting his plate and mug ready for his breakfast, all while his mind walked on a frenzied march he couldn't keep up in the recollections of that night. That night was long gone, five days into the past, but it was still fresh and present to Matt, no matter the logic he came up with. He tried, and failed. Again and again. It haunted him in his few hours at nights of lying awake, and his days of paperwork and court affairs. Matt had to admit this could be something worse than he initially thought.

The last thing he needed was a new assassin in town.

Thin as a hair thread. That was how close Matt was to failing to save another's life. A criminal's life, but a life regardless. He almost lost it to the hands much more brutal than him. Much more merciless. Even more so than when Matt lost himself, haunted by his mistakes and Elektra's death, tormented by his own malice, of what he would be capable of had he let his pain consume him whole. The fact that someone was out there with such force and cruelty was alarming. It wasn't your ruthlessness that confounded Matt; he was no stranger to it, but everything about you.

You evaded his sweeps and blows as if they were nothing, as if he was only a martial arts enthusiast and not the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. The gracefulness in your moves made you look like a ballerina to his enhanced senses. The sharp gusts of air from your movement cut his skin like a dull blade, and Matt suspected the purpose was not to hurt him, but to warn. You rendered him almost helpless, meeting him for every strike. A good match in all the wrong ways, for all the wrong reasons.

You had the agility and deadliness of the Hand's lifeless soldier, which made Matt think you were one of them. Still, the steady rhythm of your heart said otherwise. It was as real as the sharpness of your dagger when it slid across his forearm. Your mercilessness was not the most fatal part of you. The precise delivery of your weapon almost took a life, and even though Matt prevented that from happening, he felt as if letting your victim live was your decision, not his. He was only a witness who was at the right place, at the right time. Your escape was silent and swift, leaving no trace for him to follow. No matter how hard he tried, he could only detect a subtle scent of wet earth in the air, and nothing else. Since then, Matt had spread himself thin, patrolling the Manhattan area, even as far as Brooklyn, asking for his friends' help in places he couldn't reach, like a confused hound dog on a blind chase. The clues he picked up were only fragments of a bigger picture you were a part of. Days passed, and the seed sprouted from his curiosity of you kept growing, yet his search gave him nothing to attach you to.

Not until tonight, when your ruthlessness struck again.

You took hold of the man's collar, tugging on his tie, making sure that it sat tightly at the base of his throat. His face turned a dangerous shade of red, blending in with the crimson liquid and purple bruises all over his skin. His mouth opened to take in desperate gulps of air as you wrapped the remaining blue-striped tie around his neck, making a noose.

"Pl-please … don't do this. I have a wife an-and … a daughter. I have a family. Please!"

You sighed, bored and fed up with what he told you. In the face of great danger and near death, they always said the same thing. You would know since you had lost count of the men and women who had told you they had families. Unfortunately, none of them was alive to testify that.

"I know you do, Eddie. I had one too, at one point. But they're all gone now …."

You tugged hard on his tie, making him choke on the restricted and precious breaths. His face, stained with tears, only stroked your confidence. You almost had him. Just a little more, and you would have your next victim. Or victims, if he was so generous as to inform you.

"Tell me names. Better yet, point me in their direction, and I just might spare you."

Eddie shook his head, whimpering pathetically.

"I can't. They'll know it's me. They'll kill me."

You ran your beloved weapon along the side of his torso, hinting at the possible chance of you cutting him up at any moment like he was a rag doll. You rested the edge of your blade against his bloated stomach while he tried to stay away from it as much as possible with his legs and hands bound. There was no use in doing that, but he desperately tried, wriggling and struggling against the confines.

"It's either me or them that will end your life. So choose."

You dipped the blade into his side. It wasn't too deep, just enough to draw blood. The metal parted his flesh with little resistance, smooth and easy as if cutting through a leaf. The man before you cried out in pain; his prayers were half screams, half cries and all the agony. He sputtered, choking on the words he desperately tried to get out.

"Imani! Imani Campbell! She's the head of security f-for the Stromwyns. She and h-her team have access to everything!"

You pulled the blade free, patting his face softly as you cooed at him.

"There we go. Wasn't that easy?"

The man sobbed uncontrollably. Blood seeped out from his dress shirt, staining the fabric a dark red. You registered a soft thud from behind; the sound, accompanied by a low voice, made its presence known.

"Let him go."

The deep timbre in his tone was familiar, even though you barely exchanged a word that night. Only grunts of exertion. Twirling the dagger in your hand playfully, you took hold of the hilt once more before slamming it into Eddie's temple, knocking him unconscious. What you might have to say to the man behind you might fall on Eddie's deaf ears since he was only a thin thread away from passing out, but you preferred not to leave that up to chance.

You turned around to face him, fastening your bloody dagger to the strap on your thigh. Your gaze assessed him as you took a few steps forward. The man from the night before returned with a fresh bandage on his forearm, courtesy of your blade.

"I'm sorry. Who are you?"

Your voice was light but alert. You pushed your tongue against the roof of your mouth, keeping the smile off your tone. You wondered what he had to say.

"I should be the one who asks you that."

You chuckled to yourself. An expected answer, but different from what you anticipated from him. You figured as much.

"I thought you should know who I am already, considering what you've been up to lately, Matt Murdock."

The muscles in his body were pulled taut in his straightened posture, locked up in alarm, and you didn't miss that.

"How do you know my name?"

You tsked, shaking your head in mock disappointment.

"Don't feign innocent now. You were looking for me, trying to sniff me out like a dog."

His hands balled tightly to the sides, and you could see the tension in his jaw, even from a safe distance away.

"How do you know that?"

"By doing the same thing as you did. I like to be five steps ahead of everything, you know? That's how I stayed out of your radar."

You were prepared and well-versed to the point it felt like a game. A game of hide-and-seek, catch-and-release. Just simple as that. You spoke over your shoulder as you turned on your heels, returning to the unconscious man.

"Now excuse me, I was in the middle of something."

He was silent and fast. Before you could give Eddie the second slap to his cheek, Matt seized you with his arms around your torso and dominant arm, dragging you away from Eddie. He backed you into the cement railing; the hard and rough texture dug into your back. He pinned your arms back, spiking pain and discomfort along your body. Nothing you could handle. Your heart rattled in your chest as you looked up at him; his laboured breathing reverberated and mirrored your own. You stayed like that for a few moments, studying each other. You felt no fear, yet your heart thundered, your blood pumping for something else.

To your surprise, he smirked as if he had caught onto your wandering thoughts and foreign feelings.

"You're not scared. You're not even frustrated. You're… excited."

You held your tongue, waiting for him to continue his assessment.

"Perhaps this has something to do with me. Having someone on your level."

You huffed a biting chuckle, your eyes trained on the part of his face exposed to you. Plump lips accentuated by light stubble, adding softness to his rugged intricacy. A strong jawline that you wouldn't mind caressing, stroking the scruffy hair on your fingertips. And putting your dagger to it. You would place your fingers on the delicate pulse on his neck while you did that, feeling the panic coursing underneath his skin. But you suspected your foe wouldn't be scared off by a sharp blade that easily.

"Maybe I do like a challenge. At last."

Fearless to the point of arrogance. Matt was dumbfounded, then it clicked: you didn't know who he was. You might be new to this city, its politics and underground scenes. Maybe you were here on a chase for something, someone dangerous, following the trail of blood, corruption and murders. It led you to his territory, which he had slowly but steadily returned to protect. When Matt told you as such, a skip in your heart told him he was right. You went still against him, and goosebumps rose along your skin. Still and rigid, a stark contrast to your confidence and playful manner just moments ago.

Either way, whether you were familiar with the area or not, Matt had to clarify one thing.

"You must stop what you're doing."

"Which is …?"

You dragged your sentence, feigning innocence. The slight lilt in your voice should irk Matt, but to his surprise, it didn't. It glided on his eardrums, soft and soothing, which had started to distract him. Just a little bit, Matt assured himself. He lied some more when he told himself that your body, pressing snugly against his, was not the reason for his slipping focus. Not at all. Your body was warm; Matt could feel it even through your suit. The unconscious man's blood on your gloves enveloped his acute sense of smell, steering him back to the conversation he was having with you.

"Killing those criminals. Taking lives that aren't yours to take."

You fell silent, and Matt could hear the grind of your teeth. The muscles in your jaw grew taut, and he had no doubt that he had struck a nerve. Matt paid extra attention to another scent entering his olfaction. Subtle, yet refreshing, like wet earth … after the rain. And all of a sudden, it made sense to him. Perhaps you used a scent like that to blend into the element around you, becoming one with your surrounding. Leaving no trace. Just like that night when he first met you. The more Matt learned about you, the more fascinated he became. But he wouldn't have known that yet. Not at that moment.

You pushed yourself up, pressing your chest flush with his. Your voice was low in contrast to your guards, which were high and tall, and you hoped they wouldn't topple over.

"Just like you said, they were criminals. I don't kill anyone that doesn't deserve it."

Your answer didn't satisfy him by the way his jaw clenched, his lips curved downward in disapproval.

"What they do is wrong, but that doesn't mean they deserve death. Two wrongs don't make one right."

Your hands tugged on the skin and bone shackles he had on you, but he wouldn't let up. Your skin prickled in frustration.

"I'm weeding the bad out. You should thank me since I'm doing you a favour."

He tightened the hold on you, making an imprint on your wrists.

"They deserve second chances for redemption. How can they change for the better if they're not given a chance to do so?"

Okay, now you were beyond annoyed. Who the hell did he think he was? To walk all over you, to jeopardize your mission. To act as if he was the one with authority.

"Stop with the fucking lectures! Not all of them deserve that."

You thrashed with all you might, desperate to escape his hold. But Matt held on.

"They're humans. They make mistakes, just like you and me."

That snapped something inside you, something that had always been there. You tipped your head back and slammed your head to his face. Matt let you go as he held a hand to his nose. You delivered a sharp blow to the base of his throat, right below his Adam's apple, effectively choking him. He sputtered, taking a few steps back, holding his throat while you followed him like a predator. Anger and grief took over, like a storm waiting to be unleashed.

"Spare me that bullshit!"

You grabbed his shirt, gripping it and pulling him back to you before throwing him against the brick chimney.

"If you know so much about the way this …"

Matt held a hand to his nose, swiping the runny liquid onto his hand. From the feel of it, a small part of his nose was splintered, but other than that, no serious and long-lasting damage. You took hold of him again, throwing him against the bricks.

"… thing works, then tell me. Tell me how it feels to have my entire life stolen from me. To have my family taken away, to have those barbaric so-called human beings abuse me, torture me, put drugs and chips inside of me like I'm no less than a toy? I'm nothing more but a weapon, a tool for their profit. And when I finally escaped and tried to have a normal life with a normal guy, they found me and took that away too?"

You leaned closer, and Matt could sense something other than his own blood. The salt of your tears, the blood rushing in your veins, fueling the rattling rhythm of your pulse.

"Tell me, Murdock. Tell me how it feels like to come home one day, and find your love's decapitated head on the bed you shared, in the only home you've ever known?"

And then there was nothing, only your heavy breathing and his; the wind died down, and the city carried on. Matt thought about the accident years ago, losing his sight, then his father. Stick came as abruptly as he left, and that was how he spent most of his teenage years alone and aloof. Matt couldn't shut out the clamour of crimes happening around him; he was helpless to it. When he decided to do something, to take charge, Matt lost more than he gained. Still, there was Foggy, who brought so much joy to his life. Foggy's presence was a blessing. Then came Elektra, who made him feel heard and understood when no one else could. Being with her was an ever-changing mesh of euphoria and affliction that stuck with him, before and after. The fights he had fought for the better only brought more pain to his life, full of losses.

The words manifested on his tongue, but he didn't say any of them. Your pain was your own, and it was immeasurable. Matt held both hands out in a gesture of peace. And when he spoke, the words were ripped right from his heart.

"I am sorry for everything that happened to you. I won't say that I understand everything what you went through. But I do understand why you're doing this. Trust me, revenge is not everything."

"No, you don't know anything about me."

Your tone was sharp. Final.

"Let me guess, you have some sob stories too?"

He swallowed hard, and you knew you were right.

"I guess that's why we turn out like this, huh? Inflicting pain on others because we can't bear our own."

It hurt more than the healing wound on his arm, than the forming bruise on his throat. It was as if your dagger had sunk into his chest and twisted until his heart was nothing but a mangle of tissues and vessels. He protected Hell's Kitchen; he had kept it safe with his violence. Deep under the overlapping layers of his good conscience, he knew it was another way for Matt not to face his own pain. The past year was the embodiment of that. No matter how much time passed, he knew that time would always stay with him, reminding him of the destruction he had made.

"Stay out of my way if you know what's good for you."

You turned on your heels, stepped onto the ledge and jumped. Your gracefulness landed you on the fire escape as you descended, blending in with the surroundings once more. Matt tipped his head back onto the warm bricks and caught his breath, deep in thoughts and the scent of you lingering behind.

Wet earth. Fresh rain. The saltiness of your tears.

Matt came home to his empty apartment; frustration and pain burned his skin, grating his insides. His throat hurt, the wound on his arm throbbed, and his nose stung, but at least it had stopped bleeding. Matt knew he would have to take it easy for the next few nights. Matt peeled off the dirty suit, undoing the hand wraps quickly. Standing in his boxers, he went to the kitchen and turned on the kettle. The small machine hummed as it heated the water inside as Matt prepared his tea. While waiting for the water, he went to the bedroom and grabbed a zip-up hoodie and sweats before gingerly them on, careful of his injuries. Matt went through the motion automatically because he didn't allow himself to stop and think. Not yet. The kettle whistled a high-pitched note, dragging him to the kitchen. Water was poured, tea steeped, and honey added. Matt settled down at the kitchen table with his mug, hissing softly as his aching muscles voiced their discomfort. Matt closed his eyes, letting the steam of chamomile soothe his eyelids before diving into everything he knew about you. Which was not much at all. But he had more now than he knew of you six nights ago.

Rubbing his throat, Matt took a sip of his honeyed tea. He recalled the sound of your voice, the inflection of it when you were angry. The piercing rawness of it when you cried. He got to learn another part of you that he had tried to reach. You were in the position to knock him out swiftly, to kill him even, but you didn't. You spared him of your own volition. He might not know your name, but he knew your pattern now. You struck precisely, seizing someone on the weaker links and climbing up. However, singling out one of the lawyers on the retainer for one of the most notorious crime families gave him a clue of what you came to New York for. Even though it was out of character for you, it gave him a hint of where you could go next, and Matt wasn't going to pass out on this chance. The crime family you targeted was someone he had an interest in himself. The Stromwyns. They were a force to be reckoned with, and from what he knew of you, you acted alone. It was personal from your history with them, and he suspected you wanted to take them down yourself. Matt would admire your bravery if it wasn't so reckless and incredibly foolish. But on what ground could he judge you, considering that he did the same thing?

Your fist curled tightly, your knuckles drenched in blood and mangled flesh of your own and your victims. But you wouldn't stop, not until you got what you wanted. A swift punch followed another on Imani's broken face. Her bodyguards and associates laid unconscious a few feet away, leaving only your ragged breaths and the woman's pained whimpers echoed in the destroyed meeting room. You usually wouldn't strike them at their base, where they could easily call for backup, which they did, but you felt particularly reckless tonight. You were up for a challenge, and you almost paid for it. The searing pain on your side was the throbbing proof. You wanted to speed your investigation along, too impatient to wait. You had done enough of that. Still, this stubborn woman before you wouldn't give in. You could feel your temper rising, and soon, you wouldn't be able to control it. Imani was a delicate knot in an elaborate scheme that you couldn't solve by cutting her string short. You didn't take out her whole team for nothing, especially when your venture for revenge ended up being something bigger, something more sinister than you thought.

You gave Imani's face a slap. She came to before you, despite her drooping eyelids.

"I know the Stromwyns are planning something big. Tell me what it is."

She gave a bloody smirk, her teeth stained red. She tried to keep her head straight, her eyes bored into you.

"No."

"Should have saved that energy telling me what I want."

Another jab, and she fell to the floor. You propped her up against the table, pulling out the blade concealed on your thigh.

"One last chance. I won't be so lenient this time."

The thumps of his boots made it to your ears, and you felt the air change slightly. Maybe it was just you. His footsteps drew closer on the once pristine marble floor behind you, entering the crime scene. You closed your eyes, already knowing what he would say.

"Don't do this."

You didn't bother standing up to greet him this time.

"I've killed before. This will change nothing."

"Believe me. It will."

His tone was the same. Kind, soft, imploring for the part of you that no longer existed. Yet, he still searched for it, drawing it out. You would lie if you said you couldn't feel the tug of his kindness and patience on your heartstring. It was just that you couldn't afford to follow his call.

"Why are you still trying? Why waste time on me?"

You had to know whether it was his Catholic guilt, and you were his charity case, or it was something else entirely. It wasn't like New York's shady marketplace lacked assassins for hire. You knew that as much.

"I was you before. You think you're irredeemable. But you're not. You still have a chance to turn around …"

Your real name on his tongue sounded foreign to your ears. It affected you in a way you didn't think possible. The sound triggered the alarm going off in your head, screeching in your ears. You slowly rose on your feet, exhaling an unsteady breath. You had isolated yourself and made acquaintance with no one. The shock of Matt finding out shot unnerving prickles along your skin. You used his name in vain to gain an advantage, while he used yours in the hope of steering you back to yourself with such an intricate tenderness. And that made you angrier than ever.

You closed the distance between you, wielding the dagger between your skilled fingers.

"Who do you think you are? Waltzing in here with your talks, when you're doing the same thing as I am–"

"I don't kill–"

"Same - fucking - shit! Just because you don't kill doesn't make you better than me."

Your words were punctuated with each swipe of your weapon, which he easily dodged. You were blinded with rage, with a wave of anger so potent that you could only release it when your blade had sunk into his flesh. You knew deep down if you stopped, your weaker emotions would get the better of you. Your fury consumed you whole, fueling every step as you advanced toward the infuriating figure that seemed to have so much trust in you.

"Stop it! I know you have it in you to stop. I know it feels good to get revenge, but it will ruin you."

Matt only dodged your blows and not once fought back. It only fueled your boiling rampage.

"Shut up! Just … shut up and fight back!"

It was harder to ignore his voice and what he said now. His words were like vines, slipping through the cracks of your control, taking root quickly. But you were broken; no one could mend you. You had long accepted that you would never be someone you once wished to be. This was your life. Full of rage, violence and loneliness. That was how you would die. Your demons would always follow you, then, now, and when it was your time to depart this world. You were beyond saving.

The quiet click of a gun made you whip your head toward the sound. You couldn't see clearly through the veil of tears that had started trailing down your cheeks. That was when you realized that you had been crying. It was such an appalling recognition that you didn't register the bullet leaving its chamber. Everything that happened after that was so fast your mind couldn't catch up. You could only feel. You felt the rough contact of his body against yours when he tackled you, the hard marble floor on your back when you crashed. Matt continued to shield you with his body over yours as a few more shots rang out. He cried out suddenly as a bullet hit him; his body jolted but didn't move an inch. You tried to push him off you so the two of you could run for cover, but he wouldn't budge. Suddenly, it became eerily quiet except for some empty clicks, followed by a sharp cry of pain as Imani got up and took off toward the exit. You pushed Matt off, getting yourself ready to run after her, but you ceased acting on your instinct. Matt tried to rise with one hand braced on the littered floor, his lips parted to expel a pained groan. Your foggy mind replayed the feeling of him lunging for you, saving you from the bullets' line. You blinked, watching as your whole body trembled, the bloody blade unsteady in your hand. Your target had escaped, but that was the least of your concern right now. You looked to your saviour, fixed on the ghastly look on his almost unmasked face. His eyes stared straight ahead, his mouth opened agape, and his movements shaky before he dropped to the floor with a sickening thud.

Matt woke to the unfamiliar surrounding, with strange air and the companion of another's presence. He found himself almost naked, saved for his boxers, nestled between the warm sheets that definitely weren't the silk he used to. Despite its roughness, it was just as nice as his own, as it possessed your scent, earthy and soothing. Matt had grown to like it. A pleasant mix of you and his own blood, which he could sense as he moved to set his feet on the floor. Matt ran a hand through his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and felt no resistance. He seemed to only recognize the missing safety of his mask now, and for a brief moment, he panicked. It was soon washed away when the gentle breeze carried something else in from the open window. A scent of moss, morning dews, and vines seemed to attach themselves to the brick exterior of the building, like soil after the rain. It reminded him of how you always blended in with your environment. And the thought eased his concerns. If you wanted him dead, he wouldn't be alive right now. But Matt was here, in your home. Hurt but alive, the rough gauze on his thigh reminded him.

Matt took a few unsteady steps as he oriented himself, getting familiar with the surroundings. The search for the door was a success, and he opened it to step into a different world. A different feel. The space was warm and pleasant, with sunlight coming from the right side, and the aroma that hung in the air felt homey. Upon further inspection, Matt could smell freshly chopped parsley, rice, and chicken. In the midst of everything were you and your ever-steady heartbeat.

Without turning around, you directed him.

"Take a seat. Food is almost ready."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you bit onto your bottom lip, feeling a little out of place. There was something strangely domestic about the way you told him to make himself comfortable. Even though you did try to kill him just a few hours before.

Matt searched for the seating and sat down, his back resting nicely against the cushion. He closed his eyes, soaking in the warm sun. You let yourself look at him from where you were standing, taking in how peaceful he seemed. How at ease. He seemed different, yet still the same as the person who had followed you, matching your violence with his own just to urge you to turn the other way. Realizing that you had been staring at him for perhaps too long, you whirled around to tend to the steaming food. With the porridge done, you turned the stove off before pouring a good portion of the hot dish into two bowls and sprinkling some parsley on top.

You put the bowl in front of him with a soft thump, and his eyes lazily slid open. The spoon made a small clang on the wooden table as you set it down on his right before going to your seat. Matt picked up the spoon, taking in the dish before him. It was steaming hot with a savoury aroma of rice, chicken, herb and seasonings.

"I didn't poison it, don't worry."

Matt huffed a soft chuckle.

"I trust you."

"You're way too trusting considering what you do."

That made him smile. Matt took a spoonful of the food, blowing it for good measure before giving it a taste. A pleasant and hot feeling engulfed his tongue before it smoothly chased down his throat. The taste was delectable, flavourful and wholesome. It warmed him inside out.

"Seasonings are on your right. Just reach your hand out a little."

That made Matt pause for a moment, but he didn't say anything. You continued your meal in silence, and the air between didn't feel tense or forced. Outside of the enclosed space, New York was a bustle of sounds.

Your spoon made a small clang on the side of the bowl, and it seemed like you decided it was more than enough to start a new conversation.

"I'm guessing from the way you are not panicking or overwhelmed or freaking out, you've been blind for a long time?"

No beating around the bush. He liked that. People walked on eggshells around him, around his disadvantage, for a good reason. But Matt didn't need coddling. He definitely didn't need protecting, either.

"Since I was nine. Freak accident."

"Freaky indeed."

Those two words marked the end of your conversation. Matt occasionally felt your intense gaze, watching him carefully as he cleaned the bowl. Once his and your hunger were satiated, you put the dishes away in the empty sink. Matt stood up to help, but his good intention was quickly forgotten as he hissed lowly in pain. He touched the area around the wound, feeling its mouth crack, allowing the blood to seep into the gauze. Matt winced, and it didn't escape your watchful eyes.

Rummaging around your kitchen, you poured him a glass of water and set two pills in his palm.

"Take these. Or don't. I don't care."

Your halfhearted concern warmed his heart. He knew your intention behind it, and the little spike in your heart never lied. Matt took the pills as you walked away, fetching the medical kit.

"Can I see your wound?"

He nodded after a brief moment. You dragged your chair to settle beside him, and your thighs exchanged accidental brushes. Your touch was careful and tender as your hands worked on his broad thigh to unwrap the bloodied bandage. Matt's jaw clenched, holding back a pained groan as you pressed gently around the tender area. You cleaned up the blood with a clean cloth, precise and swiftly. Not a word passed between you as you secured the wound with a sterile bandage until you asked if you could see the injury on his side. There was something serene, tender and peaceful about the way you took care of him, as if you had done this many, many times before. As if you had known each other for a lifetime.

Once finished, you pulled away with a gentle squeeze on his knee before working on your injured hands. You sighed in exasperation as you undid the hand wraps. The torn skin on your knuckles was red and angry, staring back at you as they throbbed a warning melody, giving you no choice but to listen. You would have to take it easy for the time being.

Lost in your thoughts, your hands pulled on another roll of gauze when Matt's warm hand on your wrist startled you, sending a pleasant prickle to your skin. Your eyes widened as Matt extended an open palm, wordlessly offering to help you dress your wound. You stared at him, your eyes flicked at the upward motion of his brow. Tentatively, you passed the white fabric to him. Matt held you in his hands and quickly assessed your knuckles. Your hands were colder than his, calloused and scarred, like a written memoir of your past that you carried all the time. He tried not to think about the smaller, barely-there scars you probably obtained from your younger years. You were older now, yet, your fight hadn't ended. The path you walked on only led you further into the woods like a prisoner who still fought even though their chains were broken, their prison door unlocked. He wanted to focus on the now, where you were safe, alive and with him.

Judging by the echo of your apartment, it was spacious, cozy and most likely expensive. It was a bold move, living in the heart of Manhattan. You were almost fearless, that much he knew. Matt had no doubt that you knew what you were doing, considering your profession. Maybe your name on the lease was fake, or someone owed you a favour. A very big one.

"How do you afford this apartment?"

Matt kept his voice light, distracting you from the sting of disinfectant.

"How do you?"

You asked him with just as much airiness, if not more. He chuckled softly, shaking his head as you found yourself smiling with him. You continued as the crinkles around his eyes deepened in amusement, remembering that you probably knew where he lived.

"I kill for a living. Sometimes. I'm pretty good at my job, remember?"

Matt took a deep and sharp breath, and you bit your tongue. It was too much, and you felt stupid for making that joke.

"I only take on jobs that target the Stromwyn. Nothing beyond that. Anyone with mutual interest benefits me."

"I know."

"Do you now, smartass?"

Matt could hear a slight smirk in your voice. It was refreshing to see you so relaxed, so … different from what he had known of you. But then, you were full of surprises. Silence fell over you like a thin veil; the only sound left was his movements, wrapping the bandage around your hand.

"Don't you get tired of it?"

The strokes of his hands were soft, certain as he wrapped himself around you. His warmth spread to your hands, making you shiver. Just slightly. You took a long moment to yourself, mulling over what he said.

"I do. But I can't stop. They're still doing it to children, to little kids like … like I once was. I'm a result of them, and I won't be the last."

His grip on your hands tightened, careful of your injuries. Matt brought your intertwined fingers closer to his chest, urging you to look into his unsighted eyes. Upon the near distance, you noticed the hazel gleaming in the bright light of your kitchen, holding more than just your attention.

"What they did to you is not who you are. They don't get to make you into someone you don't want to be."

His words were kind, his touch was soft, and they suffocated you. You jerked your hands out of his as if his touch burned you. A reflection of hurt took shape on his furrowed brows and curved lips, and you felt sorry for pulling away. When did you turn so soft for a man you barely knew?

"My firm can bring attention to their organization. With a big case like this, it can't stay under wraps forever. I have connections, and I can assure you that there will be people looking into this. We can work together. I can help you. Let me. Please."

You swallowed hard, feeling queasy in your seat. You stood up, and Matt followed, but he gave you space when you started pacing. You had known for a long time that you wouldn't be able to do this by yourself. The Stromwyns' influence ran deep. It would take more than an assassin with a want for vengeance infused in her blood to uproot that. To completely dismantle their organization, you would need a miracle. And Matt just might be that miracle you need. You sighed heavily, bringing your nervous pacing to a stop. You held his unseeing gaze, more for your sake than his, as if to seal your fate.

"Fine."

Matt offered a hand to you, initiating a physical agreement. After a brief moment of fleeting contemplation, you held his offering hand and shook. He pulled you closer to him by your skin-on-skin attachment, making you take a sharp breath as the sudden movement grazed your wounded skin.

"No killing."

You tugged on his firm clasp, and he wouldn't let go.

"Fine. No killing."

Matt only released you then, and you were all too eager not to have his hands on you again. That was what you told yourself, even though your heart thrashed unhappily at the traitorous thought. The tingling feeling on your fingers was back, and your mind raced with the possibilities of an uncertain future and foreign feelings.

Matt delivered on his promise. It was a long fight, stretched over two years, but the outcome was victorious and sweet. Nelson, Murdock and Page investigated and gathered evidence with witnesses, bringing the case to New York's district attorney. The ordeal was blown up, which brought in law enforcement from the higher-up. The news of the Stromwyns controlling important assets throughout New York, infesting neighbourhoods with gangs and criminals to secretly collect "protection money" from the residents, was brought to the media, pulling the attention of the whole country. When things began to come to light, the Stromwyns issued a bomb threat in an attempt to bury the whispers. It backfired as the warning was proven real by you and Matt on your investigation at night. The FBI quickly acted on the lead, making arrests for the whole family. The Stromwyns were forced to liquify their assets, and their accounts in foreign countries were seized and frozen by the CIA. Unfortunately, before law enforcement could put all of them in cuffs, some members of the family had already fled to Europe, according to the intel you obtained illegally.

It amazed you how a team of three managed to make such an impact, how relentlessly and tirelessly they worked to get people involved. You were also a part of that team; Matt told you no matter how hard you denied it. He introduced you to his friends and partners, Foggy and Karen. Even though they were skeptical of your relationship with Matt, they took your intel seriously and worked with you. You kept your distance, knowing they weren't comfortable being in the same room with an experienced assassin as in Matt's past, and you were fine with that. You had a working association with them, striving for the same outcome. You weren't there to make friends.

You weren't sure what to make of your relationship with Matt. Something had changed, but you didn't want to acknowledge it. You couldn't. It wouldn't be fair to him when you had to leave eventually. You had each other's back when you scouted for new information, when you infiltrated the Stromwyn's warehouses. Those fights didn't often result in grave injuries; when they did, you took care of each other. Small and big damages. Matt ensured that you looked after yourself and wouldn't agonize over your past. He was there to soothe you in his secure embrace when you had a nightmare. It was almost as if his arms and hands had morphed around your frame, embracing you, making you feel at ease when your grief was too much. You would wake up thrashing in his arms when the needles were too close; the stiffness paralyzing your body felt too real. Eventually, your place or his wasn't a matter since you would always end up in the same bed at the end of everything, whether due to exhaustion or nightmare-filled nights into early mornings. Whenever you woke with a headache, he would have his special tea readied, along with medicine at your request. You were afraid that he would spoil you rotten, and if you got used to his affection and care, you would never be able to leave. You couldn't stay, couldn't allow yourself that one thing. You had shared too much of yourself with him, and you were afraid you would be left with nothing if you kept on giving. You knew you didn't deserve him. So you packed your stuff up and booked a flight to Germany, following the trail of the scattered Stromwyns. You decided to leave without a word, but Matt had another idea.

"Don't do this to me."

Call you sentimental, but you had come to the rooftop of your building one last time to soak in the sound, the feel, and the air of this city. There was nowhere else quite like it, and the reason wasn't entirely due to the man standing behind you. You didn't have to turn around to know it was Matt. Your apartment was empty now, doused in the warm late afternoon light. Matt stood before you, his dress shirt creased, his tie crooked, his hair ruffled, and his face flushed from exertion. He must have run from his office in Hell's Kitchen to your apartment in Midtown Manhattan. You extended your gratitude to Karen and Foggy in person for helping you with the case before Matt got there, nothing else. You guessed they were suspicious of that and told him, even though you didn't show anything out of place. You wanted to get this over with.

"Do what?"

"Leave. Leave New York. Leave me."

The wounded edge in his plea twisted the knife that was already embedded in your heart.

"I told you. I can't rest when they're still out there."

"Let the authority take care of that. Don't be reckless."

The tone in his last sentence was stern, reprimanding as if you were a child out of line.

"Me? Reckless?"

You turned to face him, appalled at his audacity.

"I followed your 'no killing' rule. These bastards are still free because of it."

Your hands helped enunciate each word you threw at him, even though it was fruitless. You were making a point for yourself. An excuse to leave.

"They can't run forever. You've done your part. You've suffered enough."

Matt erased the distance between you, getting close enough that you didn't want to step back. You would miss his warmth.

"Stay. You have friends here."

His tender intention thrummed on your nerves, coaxing your guard like the sweet honey he always put in your tea. His words were so convincing that you felt like you could be fooled.

"No, I don't. I don't have anyone."

You stubbornly turned your head away, unable to look at him.

"You have me. Foggy and Karen, too. They don't say it but they do care about you. And I do, too."

"You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do."

He said it with so much conviction. You wanted to believe him.

"I can't, Matt. I don't know who I am without this."

The constant running, following, chasing. The continuous shutout from people, shielding yourself until you were isolated and all alone. In a way, your violence, pain, and loneliness were a way for you to punish and protect yourself. That was how you stayed anchored to reality, never strayed too far from your cruel fate, and never looked at what you could have been.

"You're still you. The strongest, most stubborn person I know. Even when you don't know yourself, you'll get there eventually. Stop running and allow yourself a chance to live the life that you deserve. To be who you want to be."

"I'm still a murderer. That's all I am and all I'll ever be. I'm only capable of that, and I will only bring you down with me by merely being in your life."

He shook his head.

"Yes, I will, Matt. Nothing good comes with me. Why don't you just let me go?"

Your throat hurt with the stricken cry that was torn from your chest. Your eyes were wide, watching Matt through the thin veil of your tears.

"I love you."

"What?"

"I love you. Everything about you."

Matt inched even closer, and you let him step into your space, knocking down your crumbling barrier. You weren't strong enough to back away. To run. You were exhausted from it.

"Please …"

You had always been careful, five steps ahead of most things. But not everything. You didn't expect to fall for Matt, yet, you did. This was his desperate plea for you to stay, to live your life instead of hiding in the shadows, being a ghost of who you truly were. He had whittled away your defence wall, brick by brick, over the span of time you knew each other. He taught you there was safety in letting go. And you did.

In a swift and clumsy motion, you slammed your lips against Matt's, accepting his promises, love, and everything in between. His full lips were soft and addictive, parting easily to deepen the kiss. Your tongues tangled in a fiery dance, and you felt like you could get drunk on his taste alone. Like the barest hint of salt, a touch of cinnamon spice, and something else that only belonged to him. His hand tangled in your hair, bringing you closer as if it was possible. When he was finally satisfied with the absence of space in between, his hand trailed down to the column of your throat in a soft caress, before stopping at the coursing, delicate pulse. Matt pressed in with his fingertips, acting on the overwhelming need to feel you, to feel the proof as if your woven bodies and intertwined tongues weren't enough. That you were real, and you were here with him. You only parted when you felt like your body could slip away from your consciousness. You heaved hard, feeling the gasps of air on your lips as Matt touched his forehead to yours. He whispered against your lips.

"Please. Stay with me."

You closed your eyes. You were tired of running, of letting your rage consume you. You and Matt were two flames. Similar to a fault, but he brought balance to you in his own way. He soothed that anger inside you and showed you that there was more to you than your past, the deadly intents you carried in the company of your wrath. You had a chance to start over with a future that wouldn't end in solitude, with the man who had so much trust in your potential when you didn't. At last, you weren't afraid to take it for yourself, as long as Matt was with you. You nodded; your face bore joyous tears and a genuine smile.

"I'm all yours."

*Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!*

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luveline · 1 year

Note

hi jade ! is this too early to request ? can i pretty please ask for some jonathan byers x shy!reader who is about to meet will for the first time but they really get along ? thank you so much !!💛💛

thank you for your request! jonathan x shy!fem!reader <3

You’re frozen in the car, staring down at your lap. You’re about half an hour early in the parking lot of the diner you and Jonathan agreed on for a kind-of date. There’s a scagged thread on the side of your pant leg. Jonathan probably won’t notice, and his younger brother Will certainly won’t, but it’s another small disaster to weigh the scale down. Today is a failure, and Will is going to hate you.

A gentle knock against the window. It scares you senseless, so highly strung that you flinch into the console and almost wind yourself. Jonathan waits for you to recognise him on the other side of the window so as not to scare you further, pulling open the driver's door.

“What happened?” he asks, generous considering he’d seen the whole thing. “I didn’t mean to freak you out, sorry. Here, let me help.”

You take his offered hands and he practically pulls you out of the car and onto your feet. When you’re standing on firm-footing, his hand strays to your side, though there’s nothing he can do. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“I’m fine,” you breathe. “You’re early.”

He laughs. It’s charming enough to calm you down, his warm cadence. “I’m early? No, I told you the wrong time so I could come and rescue you from overthinking city.”

You stiffen.

Jonathan checks you over quickly. His eyes find that tiny scagged thread on the outer side of your pant leg, and he takes it between two fingers, snapping it off sharply. His gaze tracks back up to your face. He smiles fondly at your horrified expression.

“I left him inside.” He takes your face into his hands. “Everything is fine. Everything will be fine. Will’s just like me. Well, mostly.”

“Teenagers are mean,” you say.

“Not Will. I’m sorry for lying to you. I figured it would be easier if you didn’t have time to worry about what could go wrong. But you don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready.”

Jonathan squishes your cheeks gently.

“No, I am. I’m not–” You pull the brakes, comforted by the warmth of his hands as they fall to your shoulders. “I was in my head, that’s all. And I’m excited to meet him, I promise.”

“Okay, good. He’s excited to meet you.”

You smooth one of his hairs away from his eyes without thinking. He noticeably melts, flustered by your rare but easy affection.

You and Jonathan make your way inside of the diner. You spot Will without instruction, a mop of mousy brown hair against the red velvet of a corner booth. He’s bigger than you thought he’d be — Jonathan always calls him his ‘little’ brother, but Will looks firmly within his late teens. He’s smiling as soon as he sees you.

He’s like me, Jonathan’d said without hesitation. He must be lovely, in that case.

“Hey,” Jonathan says, greeting his brother. They share a smile, and you have the peculiar feeling that they’d talked about how this moment would go before you arrived. “Will, this is Y/N. Y/N, Will.”

“Hi,” you say, not weak so much as meek, trying hard to be a grown up and missing the mark.

“Hey,” he says back.

Jonathan ushers you into the booth and sits beside you. His hand doesn’t go for your thigh but your wrist, pulling your arm into his lap so you can’t pick nervously at your nails. He knows you too well sometimes.

“It’s really great to meet you,” you say. You sound, regrettably, as terrified as you look.

“You, too. Jonathan doesn’t shut up about you, it’ll be nice to picture your face while he waxes.”

You turn to Jonathan. He shakes his head in bemusement. You know he doesn’t mind being the punching bag while you break the ice, because that’s the kind of guy he is. You slip your fingers between his and stroke the back of his hand with his thumb, looking down at his pale skin for a stolen, steadying moment.

You look up. “He doesn’t shut up about you, either. He told me about your club? Art for the disadvantaged? I was really impressed, do you…”

Talking to Will isn’t as hard as you feared it would be. Jonathan makes it easier, diving in to save you from any social faux pas you might make now you’re getting older. Teenagers speak in tongues, but Will truly is as kind and funny as his brother described, and you never once feel like he’s looking down on you.

Talking to people is hard. You don’t really enjoy putting yourself out there, or making conversation with unfamiliar people, but Will is such a big part of Jonathan’s life that you’re more than glad to do it. You fight your shyness, and you’re still awkward, disjointed, under-versed in social norms, but you make do.

You get along. By the time his friends swing by to grab him for the roller derby, you’re feeling downright overjoyed.

You smile and wave at Will as he leaves. A weight falls off of your shoulders.

You haven’t half turned to Jonathan when you’re being apprehended. He pushes you down into the booth seat, lifted off of one thigh with his hands in your hair.

“You. are. amazing,” he praises, dotting kisses all over your face.

Your giggle are slow as thick honey, breathless when his fingers slide behind your ear. He anchors you in place; there’s no escape for you, your face perfectly tilted to receive his slow, appreciative kiss. You lavish in his tenderness, but soon remember where you are and duck away from him.

“I knew you’d be amazing,” he says, hand falling from the curve of your neck to clasp your forearm. He’s almost insistent in his praise. “Thank you, honey.”

You nod bashfully. “No problem,” you mumble.

Jonathan kisses your hot cheek. His affection makes it all worth it.

#jonathan byers #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers x fem!reader #jonathan byers imagine #jonathan byers drabble #jonathan byers scenario #jonathan byers blurb #jonathan byers x you #jonathan byers x y/n #jonathan byers fluff #jonathan byers fanfic #jonathan byers fic #jonathan byers fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #shy friday

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fandomfluffandfuck · 7 months

Note

back again w another ask ab steve's chest bc he has bigger tits than me and i'm jealous.

this video came up on my x feed and immediately i had to save it. i'm picturing steve dating a bucky who's much smaller than him - they look like the kind of couple where it's obvious who's the top, who holds the other down and has his way with them. everyone sees them and assumes it's steve who has the control, but behind closed doors it's an entirely different story.

when they're alone, bucky will get his hands on steve anywhere and everywhere. he's a groper, loves touching his boyfriend's hot skin and murmuring appreciative things in his ears.

he'll slip his hands around steve's tiny waist and tell him how much he loves being able to grab him there and put him wherever he wants. he'll flatten his hands against steve's stomach and whisper how much it turns him on that he can manhandle such a strong guy like steve. he'll grab steve's ass and nip at his earlobe and tell him how he can't wait to fuck him until he can't think.

but above all, steve's favourite is when bucky touches his chest. they don't even have to be doing something sexual. sometimes they'll be lying on the couch, relaxing, and bucky will lay his head between steve's pecs with a hand under his own cheek. that kind of touch alone makes steve's nipples harden no matter how hard he tries not to let it.

and when bucky gets rough, gets handsy and starts touching on his tits in a different way? steve's a mess.

neither of them are shy about how much steve loves his chest played with. bucky's even gone so far as to put him in shirts that are much too tight just to see it bounce a little when steve walks, or tank tops with such thin straps that they barely cover anything at all, making the idea of even wearing it pointless.

bucky loves wrapping his arms around steve from behind after he's been on a run, when his skin is all hot and flushed pink. he loves turning steve's head to kiss him and just framing steve's chest with his hands, grabbing two handfuls of his tits and squeezing. steve will get so hard so fast, his knees buckling once bucky starts pinching his nipples and flicking them. steve loves the sharp sting of it and it goes right to his dick, making his shorts tent embarrassingly outward as bucky kisses the life out of him from behind.

he can come like that. he has, before. after a particularly exhausting morning run, he'd come home to bucky staring him down like he wanted to eat him alive, and then bucky had pinched and flicked and pulled at his nipples whilst he straddled steve's lap and rolled his hips into him once, twice. steve hadn't even had time to take off his shorts. he'd come with a whine, messing up the inside of his underwear with his chest still heaving under bucky's hands.

that will be all. thank you.

Lmao, if I had a dime for every time someone said Chris/Steve has bigger boobs than them, I wouldn't be rich, but... I wouldn't be poor, either, so 👀

I'm so sad that the linked video doesn't work on my end because the description you described... 🥴🥴😮‍💨 that video had to be insane

You already know how fucking much I love big, sensitive, submissive Steve and you know how much I love Steve's tits so you have to know that this is straight up fucking MURDER

Jesus Fuck, the way you describe Bucky on him, groping him, after a run and his running shorts-? (I'm picturing those short, 70s style running shorts and it's making me want to growl). Too good.

You have no mercy, and it is incredible.

Thank you for the filth!! I have re-read this too many times already, and I will continue to do so 👀

#asks #whiteglovemannor #bvckyysarm #anon provided writing #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #fic

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cephalotyrant · 5 months

Note

hiiihiii who out of azurido is more likely to ask the other if they'd still love him if he was a worm? Me personally i think it'd be azul just because he just seems to deal with insecurity and stuff more but a weird part of me can't help but imagine riddle doing the orange peel test on azul

And imagine riddle seeing azul's octopus form T_T he already knows azul is an octopus but actually seeing it for real??? And azul's reaction???? and riddle hesitates or smth and AZUL THINKS HE DISLIKES IT RAHHHHHHH-

Also you've probably scrolled thru their tag onn ao3 but there's this one super good completed longfic featuring them called Petals and Pearls by bedtime_at_four_am (That reminds me BRO I NEED TO GO COMMENT ON IT RAGHHHH) it's a fake-dating au

but yeah they're just goobers aghhhh

and part of me can't help but imagine pre book-6 azurido as like the popular onesided radiostatic trope in hazbin but less.... yk villainy/hateful and more just competitive azul with riddle being so confused where Azul's just trying so hard to get one over on riddle and just constantly scheming while riddle is like... wow that guys weirdly smug i wonder why anyways

like-

Azul: IM GOING TO MAKE THIS BOY PAY FOR UNDERESTIMATING ME JUST YOU SEE

Riddle: Wow he seemed a bit angry. I guess someone made him eat hamburg steak on a tuesday or something

anyways tyy and sorry for taking ur post as a chance to invade ur inbox

YIPPEE A RESPONSE AND ITS FROMMM YOUUU! <3 THE AZUL-ER EVER!

You mention ao3 and I can't help but remember the fact that there is already an Would You Love Me if I Was A Worm fic. (worm dorks) It is Cater's influence on Riddle but the other way around? Hm... Riddle's a very doting person to animals and the worm being his boyfie? yeah he'd take the question extremely seriously and swear his loyalty to worm-Azul. The orange peel test... yeah. Less of a 'test' and more 'Riddle's just not used to peeling his own oranges'. Like he gets a craving for them and royally messes up his first attempt so Azul does it in his stead. After laughing at how bad he is, of course. (But stopping right before he gets too upset about it. I think Azul would be very careful with boundaries, considering his past with bullying and his abilities to read other people's cues.)

Azul is bigger than Jade and Floyd in their merforms... tiny Riddle. I think he'd be shocked to see just how much bigger this previously only 5'9 slimy businessman is. and it'd scare Azul.

F... funny you mention Petals and Pearls... I've been meaning to touch it up and edit it a little.... yeah.... uhm. I check Azul/Riddle on ao3 daily nightly evening-ly. I was there when it was written because ITS IN MY GOOGLEDOCS. HAHAHA. 🥲🥹

...Being everywhere as a contributor to a rarepair is hard. 'Super Good' I'M FLATTERED AND TEARING UP.....

On the bright side. While drowning in wips from all sides I'm already drafting my NEXT ONE. It's the exact opposite. No one believes that they're NOT dating (it's the newspaper's fault..) 🙏

Never watched Hazbin! But (Idia or Cater, cant remember) have mentioned that they've only been classmates in their current year, which means it's totally possible that Riddle used to Be Azul's classmate. Add the fact that they were pre-overblot, and it goes crazy. Like rough draft but imagine,

"I'd appreciate it if you focused on the professor, Azul."

(What Azul hears) "Don't waste my time, stupid octopus. I'm already a housewarden you're not on my level. loser."

And Azul vows to get him. The end.

Which makes a funny juxtaposition because Jamil’s ACTUALLY like "Leave me alone, stupid octopus. Just leave me alone. Loser."

Please take over my inbox whenever you want. This padded room is lonely.

#twst #twisted wonderland #azurido #ask?#ask.#riddle rosehearts #azul ashengrotto #azurid #my azurido thoughts deserve to be tagged yes #impostor syndrome on tumblr is crazy no one gives a shit bruh

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fizzytoo · 1 year

Note

lying, ghost, crying, anger, sleeping, shaved ice, maple leaf and see no evil for anyone u want and milky way for adrien, rua & rosa <33

THANK YOU ILY<33333 im answering under the cut 🦔

🤥 LYING - are they good liars? do they have tells to show they're lying?

Juliette!- she's an okay liar. like she has her moments where she's gotten away with some tiny lies which really makes her overestimate her abilities 😭 it's harder for her to get away with bigger lies when you know her. she becomes even more animated than she normally is and she plays with her hands.

👻 GHOST - do they believe in ghosts? what are their "ghostly experiences," if any?

Rosa!- yes, 100% she'll tell you the story of when she was a kid growing up in her grandparents' old farmhouse and the ghost she SWEARS she saw in the upstairs bathroom. she only saw it once, but once was enough to scare her from going to the bathroom at night.

😭 CRYING - what makes them cry? do they cry easily?

Adrien!- Adrien's a frustrated crier. if he feels like he's being misunderstood, or if something just isn't working out like he thought—he'd cry. They're hot, angry tears he tries hard to hide.

💢 ANGER - what are some habits they have that will take some getting used to?

Adrien!- despite his put-together appearance, Adrien's pretty disorganized. Among other things, he constantly forgets to close the fridge or and turn off the lights after being the last one in a room. his hair-ties and bobby pins are all over the house, and his clothes and shoes are a mess where they're kept. He tries to multitask but ends up getting distracted halfway through. Rua's the neater of the two so it was something he had to get used to.

💤 SLEEPING - do they fall asleep easily? what helps them sleep?

Rosa!- she can't fall asleep just anywhere. she has to be in her bed and in her comfy clothes. Rua!- loves to fall asleep to music. He has a sleep playlist that now even Adrien needs him to play before bed. He likes to chat with Adrien while the music plays softly in the background. Danny!- Danny, in classic dad fashion, can sleep anywhere. Catch him dozing off in the morning while he's preparing coffee before work. Adrien!- He loves a good nap, especially one on their new sofa in the afternoon when the sun is peeking through the curtains (very catlike of him ‼️). At night, he loves the sleep while holding Rua :3

🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

Rosa!- She used to have a little fox plushie as a baby. It was faded, torn, but well loved. When she had Adrien, she had it fixed and gave it to him! Eventually, he'll give it to Amaya :(

🍁 MAPLE LEAF - what is their favourite season? why?

Danny!- He loves the fall. More than the season, he loves preparing for a new class of kids. He loves back-to-school shopping. This year, he got a new classroom so he can't wait to get it ready.

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don't want to show other people?

Adrien!- He tries to carry himself with so much confidence, but it's a front. He's anxious and has a lot of self-doubt. He's insecure about his appearance and even a little insecure about his relationship.

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

Rosa!- I wanted a sim with a bright, warm personality. I wanted a sim who was confident and full of love despite being burned. Adrien!- A lot of Adrien's character building came from his in-game personality. He was a silly kid who loved his family and loved to be surrounded by people. Because he was raised by his single mother, who is just as bright and fun as he is, I wanted him to take on a lot of her traits. Rua!- He was supposed to be a very flirty sim, and in a way he still is. A hot guy that Adrien worked with who was unaware of how pretty he was and just very endearing. He went through so many different drafts before I decided on how he should look.

#*fizzyanswers #plc extras #minamill #THIS IS LONG IK #adrien hating the way he looks is actually the work of the WW attractiveness system grr. i have him admire himself in the mirror and it say #something like “adrien doesn't think he's attractive and everyone else agrees” WTFFF #whole time rua thinks adrien's extremely attractive..

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ghostwriter-of-silly-things · 8 months

Text

So Maybe I'm Not Okay

Word Count: 2,823

Warnings: OC passes out

I was trapped.

A room with no doors or windows, full of people who didn't seem to notice. They were happy, laughing, talking to each other. Mingling with flutes of champagne and tiny food and gaudy clothes.

I couldn't tell what I was wearing. Strings of pearls and gold braid covered me, constricting my movement and my breathing felt ragged and laboured. It draped my limbs and bound me like chains, the weight of it pulling me down.

Frantically, I searched for an exit. Other people came and went from the room by exits in the corner of my eye that disappeared as soon as I looked directly at them.

A hand was placed on my shoulder. I spun around to face an old woman. She smiled at me, and took my arm to guide me to a wall. Her grip was strong, and I couldn't fight her as she pulled me over. She ran her other hand over the wall, and a door appeared. I pulled out of her grip and stumbled through it, falling onto a cold concrete floor. The new room was smaller and a monochromatic grey colour that messed with my eyes. I turned back to the door.

The old lady smiled again, shutting it behind her, leaving me in complete darkness with no way out.

Piper shook me awake gently, concerned look on her face.

"Are you ok?" She asked. "You were making noises in your sleep."

I stretched and yawned widely. "Oh. Yeah, I'm fine," I said, shrugging her off. I rubbed the sleep out my eyes. "I've been told that happens. It's normal."

Piper gave me a look. She knew I was lying, but she really have the guts to ask me about just what I wasn't telling her. "Ok... Well, we're here."

I looked over the side of Festus, and my eyes widened when I saw the view. Down below me, a city sat on a cliff overlooking a river. The plains around it were dusted with snow, but the city itself glowed warmly in the winter sunset. Buildings crowded together inside high walls like a mediaeval town. In the centre was... probably a castle, with massive red brick walls and a square tower with a peaked, green gabled roof. I had never seen anything like it, especially from the height they were at.

"Tell me that's Quebec City and not Santa's workshop," Leo said.

"Yeah, Quebec City," Piper confirmed. "One of the oldest cities in North America. Founded around sixteen hundred or so?"

Leo raised an eyebrow. "Your dad do a movie about that, too?"

She made a face at him, which didn't quite work with her makeup. "I read sometimes, okay? Just because Aphrodite claimed me doesn't mean I have to be an airhead."

"Feisty! Since you know so much, what's that castle?"

"A hotel, I think."

Leo laughed. "No way." Then, "The North Wind is staying in a hotel? That can't be -"

"Heads up, guys," Jason interrupted. "We've got company."

And he was right. Rising from the top of the tower were two winged figures - angry, with swords. Whoopee.

Festus did not like them. He swooped to a halt mid-air, wings geared and talons geared, and made a ruling sound in his throat - he was getting ready to blow fire. Great first impression, charring winged guys to a crisp.

"Steady boy," Leo muttered.

"I don't like this," Jason said. "They look like storm spirits."

He was close. They were much more solid than venti - they looked like regular teenagers except for their icy white hair and feathery purple wings. And, gods-awful fashion sense that I couldn't even comment on. Just what in the world were they wearing? I couldn't figure it out for the life of me, but I could tell it was pretty hideous. They looked similar enough to be brothers. One, the size of an ox, with black eyes and missing teeth. Charming. The other, stick-thin, acne covered and someone who clearly had surgically removed ego regulator. He probably thought he looked great, which was a terrifying thought.

They stopped in front of the dragon, weapons at the ready.

The bigger guy grunted. "No clearance."

" 'Scuse me?" Leo said.

"You have no flight plan on file," explained acne angel. He had a terrible French accent. "This is restricted air space."

"Destroy them?" The ox showed off his gap-toothed grin.

Festus steamed, and Jason summoned his sword, but Leo cried, "Hold on! Let's have some manners here, boys. Can I at least find out who has the honour of destroying me?"

"I am Cal!" The ox grunted. He looked proud of himself, like he had taken a long time to memorize that sentence.

"That's short for Calais. Sadly, my brother cannot say words with more than two syllables -"

"Pizza! Hockey! Destroy!" Cal offered.

"- which includes his own name," the acne angel finished.

"I am Cal," Cal repeated. "And this is Zethes! My brother!"

"Wow," Leo said. "That was almost three sentences, man! Way to go!"

Cal grunted, obviously pleased with himself. I yawned. This was taking too long, and I was still tired. More than normal anyway. I had a permanent state of sleepiness, but this was more pressing. The nightmare hadn't really helped much. The sleep had just made me more tired, which often happened, to my great annoyance.

"Stupid buffoon," Zethes grumbled. "They make fun of you. But no matter. I am Zethes, which is short for Zethes. And the lady there -" He winked at Piper, but the wink was more of a facial seizure. He... He needed to practice that. And clear his skin. "She can call me any thing she likes. Perhaps she would like to have dinner with a famous demigod before we must destroy you."

Piper made a sound like gagging on a cough drop. "That's... a truly horrifying offer." And counterproductive.

"It is no problem." Zethes wiggled his eyebrows. "We are very romantic people, we Boreads."

"Boreads? Do you mean like, the sons of Boreas?" Jason cut in.

"Ah, so you've heard of us! We are our father's gatekeepers. So you understand, we cannot have unauthorized people flying in his air space on creaky dragons, scaring the silly mortal peoples."

He pointed below, and sure enough the mortals were starting to take notice. Several were pointing up, except with confusion and annoyance rather than alarm.

"Which is sadly why, unless this is an emergency landing," Zethes said, brushing hair out of his face, "we will have to destroy you painfully."

"Destroy!" Cal agreed.

No one did or said anything for a few seconds. The brothers were starting to get restless, until:

"Wait! This is an emergency landing." Piper said.

"Awww!" Cal looked disappointed. Is was strange, seeing such a big guy act like a complete child.

Zethes studied Piper, which of course he'd already been doing. "How does the pretty girl decide this is an emergency landing, then?"

"We have to see Boreas. It's totally urgent! Please?" She forced a smile, which must have been killing her. Having to flirt with that guy - just ugh. She was using her magic voice too - charm speak. Jason was nodding, looking absolutely convinced.

Zethes picked at his silk shirt, probably making sure it was still wide open. "Well... I hate to disappoint a lovely lady, but, you see, my sister, she would have an avalanche if we allowed you -"

Piper added, "And our dragon is malfunctioning! It could crash any minute!"

Festus shuddered helpfully, then turned his head and spilled gunk out of his ear, splattering a black Mercedes in the parking spaces below.

"No destroy?" Cal whimpered.

Zethes pondered the problem, then another spasmodic wink to Piper. "Well, you are pretty. I mean, you're right. A malfunctioning dragon - this could be an emergency."

"Destroy them later?" Cal offered. He likely wasn't too great at making friends.

"It will take some explaining," Zethes decided. "Father has not been kind to visitors lately. But, yes. Come, faulty dragon people. Follow us."

The Boreads sheathed their swords and pulled smaller weapons out their belts - no, not weapons, torches with orange cones. Weird. They turned and swooped towards the hotel's tower.

Leo turned around. "I love these guys. Follow them?"

No one else looked eager.

"I guess," Jason said. "We're here now. But I wonder why Boreas hasn't been kind to visitors."

"Pfft, he just hasn't met us." Leo whistled. "Festus, after those flashlights!"

"We're totally going to die," I said gloomily.

I worried we were going to crash into the tower as we got closer, but then a section of the slanted roof slid open, revealing an entrance easily wide enough for Festus. The top and bottom were lined with icicles. Welcoming.

"This cannot be good," Jason muttered, but Leo spurred the dragon downwards, and we swooped in after the Boreads.

We landed in what must have been the penthouse suite, but the place had been hit by a flash freeze. It was beautiful, yes, and I marvelled at the sheer largeness of it, but seriously, the heating needed to be whacked up. The carpet crunched under Leo's feet as he slid off, followed by the rest of us. The ice made it a very unsettling landing, and my feet almost slipped out from under me.

"Guys," Leo said, "fix the thermostat in here, and I would totally move in."

"Not me." Jason looked in easily at the staircase. "Something feels wrong. Something up there... "

Festus shuddered and snorted flames. Frost was forming on his bronze scales. All the cold was having an affect on me as well. I shivered violently, and I could feel my eyelids start drooping, just slightly.

"No, no, no." Zethes marched over, somehow not making a fool of himself on the ice, which was disappointing. "The dragon must be deactivated. We can't have fire in here. The heat ruins my hair."

Festus growled and spun his drill-bit teeth.

" 'S okay, boy," Leo turned to Zethes. "The dragon's a little touchy about the whole deactivation concept. But I've got a better solution."

"Destroy?" Cal suggested.

"No, man. You gotta stop with the destroy talk. Just wait."

"Leo," Piper said nervously, "what are you -"

"Watch and learn, beauty queen. When I was repairing Festus last night, I found all kinds of buttons. Some you do not want to know what they do. But others... Ah, here we go."

Leo hooked his fingers behind the dragon's Leo foreleg, and pulled a switch. Then, he filed like origami into a metal block? Well okay then.

He tried to lift it, but it weighed a ton. Obviously. "Um... yeah. Hold on. I think -- aha."

He pushed another button and a handle and wheels flicked out. A suitcase. Sure, why not.

"Ta-da!" he announced. "The world's heaviest carry-on bag!"

"That's impossible," Jason said. "Something that big couldn't -"

"Stop!" Zethes ordered. He and Cal both drew their swords. I shivered, although not from their amateur sword work -- that needed serious help.

Leo raised his hands. "Okay... what'd I do? Stay calm, guys. If it bothers you so much, I don't have to take the dragon as a carry-on --"

"Who are you?" Zethes shoved the point of his sword against Leo's chest. "A child of the South Wind, spying on us?"

"What? No!" Leo said. "Son of Hephaestus. Friendly blacksmith, no harm to anyone"

Cal growled. "Smell fire. Fire is bad." Ooh shucks.

"Oh." Leo began to look mildly panicky. "Yeah, well... my clothes are kind of singed, and I've been working with oil, and --"

"No!" Zethes pushed Leo back at sword point. "We can smell fire, demigod. We assumed it was from the creaky dragon, but now the dragon is a suitcase. And I still smell fire... on you."

"Hey... look... I don't know --" He glanced over at the rest of us desperately. "Guys, a little help?"

Jason stepped forward, eyes on Zethes. "Look, there's been a mistake. Leo isn't a fire guy. Tell them Leo. Tell them you're not a fire guy."

"Um... " For the love of --

"Zethes?" Piper tried, but she was too nervous and presumably, cold. "We're all friends here. Put down your swords and let's talk."

"The girl is pretty," Zethes admitted, "and of course she cannot help being attracted to my amazingness," -- I shuddered, from Zethes this time -- "but, sadly, I cannot romance her at this time."

"Destroy him now?" Cal asked.

Zethes nodded. "Sadly, I think --"

"No," Jason insisted. He sounded calm, but the coin in his hand said otherwise. "Leo's just a son of Hephaestus. He's no threat. Piper here is a daughter of Aphrodite, Benjamin of Demeter. I'm the son of Zeus. We're on a peaceful... "

Jason faltered at the intense gaze of the Boreads.

"What did you say?" Zethes demanded. "You are the son of Zeus?"

"Um... yeah. That's a good thing, right? My name is Jason."

Cal almost dropped his sword, and I was starting to feel worryingly woozy. My limbs shook uncontrollably. Gotta love your body giving out on you. "Can't be Jason. Doesn't look the same."

"No, he is not our Jason. Our Jason was more stylish. Not as much as me -- but stylish. Besides, our Jason died millennia ago."

"Wait, " Jason said. "Your Jason... you mean the original Jason? The Golden Fleece guy?"

"Of course," Zethes said. "We were his crew mates aboard his ship, the Argo, in the old times, when we were mortal demigods. Then we accepted immortality to serve our father, so I could look this good for all time, and my silly brother could enjoy pizza and hockey."

"Hockey!" Cal agreed.

"But Jason -- our Jason -- he died a mortal death. You can't be him."

"I'm not," Jason agreed.

"So, destroy?" Cal asked. His two brain cells were clearly on overtime with this conversation.

"No," Zethes said regretfully. "If he is a son of Zeus, he could be the one we've been watching for."

"Watching for?" Leo asked. "You mean like in a good way: you'll shower him with fabulous prizes? Or watching in a bad way: he's in trouble?"

"That depends on my father's will."

A new voice had entered the conversation, and I looked up at the staircase to see a girl in a white sill dress. Unnaturally pale skin, long black hair, and coffee brown eyes. I blinked slowly. I was having trouble focusing, my brain slowly scrambling. It seemed like my sleep debt was coming back with a cold-hearted vengeance.

She looked at Jason and Piper, and seemed to understand the situation immediately.

"Father will want to see the one called Jason," the girl said.

"Then it is him?" Zethes asked excitedly.

"We'll see," she said, "Zethes, bring our guests."

As they started moving, she stared at Leo. "Not you, Leo Valdez."

"Why not?" He sounded whiny, but the sounds were slowly fading to the background as my brain... shut down probably.

"You cannot be in the presence of my father. Fire and ice -- it would not be wise."

"We're going together," Jason insisted, "or not at all"

The girl tilted her head. She looked blurry. I pushed up my glasses. Maybe they needed cleaning.

Probably. They always needed cleaning.

"He will not be harmed, Jason Grace, unless you make trouble. Calais, keep Leo Valdez here. Guard him, but do not kill him."

Cal's face moved. Something was really weird. Sleep de... dep... depenign? Depending. No, that's wrong. Department? I blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog in my mind, rubbed my eyes and yawned.

"Just a little?" Cal whined.

"No. And take care of his interesting suitcase, until Father passes judgement."

The voices were muffled now. Oh. Sleep deprivation. That was it. Vaguely I wondered how many times this would happen until my body caught up.

Leo said something. I thought it was Leo, anyway. It had that annoying quality to it. Everything sounded so far away, though. My eyelids drooped further, and this time I couldn't stop myself from falling.

"Listen to your friend. Leo Valdez will be perfectly safe. I wish I could say the same for you, son of Zeus. Now come, King Boreas is waiting."

A rustle of clothing and a soft thump came from behind Jason and Piper. They turned and saw Benjamin passed out, caught by Leo. He chuckled. "I guess I have to look after this one, too." Leo glanced down at the boy slumped in his arms. "I'm... not too sure he's had much sleep in the past week."

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#pjo #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #pjo series #pjo fanfic #hoo #hoo fandom #hoo fanfic #demigods #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfiction #heroes of olympus fanfiction #heroes of olympus #leo valdez x oc #jason grace x oc #slow burn #angst #angst with a happy ending

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princessconsuela120 · 3 years

Text

✿DAD MATERIAL✿

—✿

Summary: you and Jacob babysit your friends' menacing kids, and brand-new baby boy

Warnings: cursing, maybe a few sexual innuendos but it’s just really cute

Author’s Note: I have been waiting for him guys. I’m thinking of starting a fluff series for him, just for the hell of it. It probably will be a part of the series if I make one.

—✿

"WHAT?" YOU ASKED, SMILING UP AT JACOB, WHO HAD BEEN STARING AT YOU FOR A FEW MINUTES NOW. He didn't say anything in response, just began to chuckle softly.

"What?" You asked again, now laughing yourself. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He didn't know why he couldn't stop laughing. Something about the mix of feelings he was having that night. From the glittery pink make-up on his face, to his messy hair from being maimed and pulled at most of the night, and now watching as you snuggled your godson close to you tired body, adorned in one of his much too large for you hoodies. Just something about looking at you made him feel warm, and full. Like this was it, this was right where he was meant to be.

"You just, you look like a natural." He spoke softly, smiling down at the infant in your arms. You smiled, glancing at the baby boy before looking back at Jacob.

"Yeah well, you were for sure a natural in that salon chair earlier. I think you made Addy's entire year by letting her do your make-up." You teased back, referring to his pink face of make-up. This wasn't the first time you were babysitting for your friend. You and Jacob had been her go-to sitters ever since her oldest, Mason was born. He was about as old as your relationship with Jacob, Mason being only 2 when Jacob became your boyfriend. Now there were three of them, and though you've held the others as babies before, this was your first time watching a kid who wasn't even a year old. But you and Jacob got through it. You would bottle feed the baby while Jacob played video games with Mason, sitting on the floor in front of Adeline who would do his hair.

Both Mason and Addy were asleep now, and you and Jacob were sitting on the small loveseat couch in the nursery, trying to get the four-month-old infant to go to sleep as well.

But yet, Jacob couldn't stop staring. The way you held Levi, so confidently. You looked like it was what you were meant to do, like you were meant to nurture and care for people as fragile as babies. He'd be lying however if he said the baby didn't frighten him. He was so small and looked so fragile. It freaked Jacob out that his hand was bigger than the baby's head. Was that normal, or were his hands just freakishly large? And if his hands were just large, what if he'd underestimated their size, and managed to hurt Levi somehow?

"Why do you look like that?" You asked. He raised his eyebrows, playing dumb.

"Like what?"

You raised an eyebrow, following his nervous gaze to the baby before meeting eyes with him.

"Well, you're looking at the baby like he has three heads."

"No-no I'm not." He stuttered, trying not to look at Levi. He folded his arms, shaking his head.

"Oh my god..." you began, making him point out a finger, shaking his head.

"No." He countered.

"Jacob..." You tilted your head teasingly, and Jacob shook his head harder.

"No, stop, shut up." He pouted like a child, knowing he had been caught.

"You're scared of the baby!" You yelled; Jacob's face practically red with embarrassment. He yelled back.

"No I'm not!"

"That's too precious." It was actually extremely adorable. How someone as bug as Jacob was, to be afraid of something so tiny.

"I'm not scared of him!" He shouted back in defense, rolling his eyes at you mocking pout.

"It's okay to be nervous around him.." he shook his head, interrupting you.

"It's not even that."

"Then what is it?" He sighed, giving in. He glanced at Levi, then looked into your eyes with a sad sort of puppy dog gaze.

"What if I hurt him? Like what if I crush him with my abnormally large hands?" He rambled nervously; a blush now prominent on his cheeks. You began laughing loudly.

"It's not funny." he chuckled. "Stop laughing at me, I'm serious." He whined, trying not to laugh himself.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just adorable." You spoke between laughs, making him scoff. He puffed up his chest.

"I'm not adorable. I'm a man." He said, clearing his throat while straightening his posture. You playfully rolled your eyes.

"It's pretty adorable." You countered, still laughing, making him roll his eyes in return.

"Here, why don't you hold him." He widened his eyes.

"No, no love, I can't." He panicked backing up in his spot as you carefully moved the baby closer. You sighed, before moving behind him.

"Come on, I'll help you." You reassured, to which he gave you a nervous look. Such a big baby. "You won't hurt him, I promise."

You gently lay the baby in his arms, which immediately cradle the small baby. His hands were bigger than his head. Levi seemed to like the perfectly fit head spot Jacob's hand provided.

"That's it, there you go." You spoke, softly to not disturb the bay. He needed the reassurance and took careful strides. He barely moved, afraid of what might happen, until Levi let out a small gurgle, shifting peacefully in Jacob's arms.

The aura in the room shifted, becoming calm as Levi snuggled into Jacob's arms. He shifted the slightest bit, then smiled up at Jacob, making you ad Jacob smile back widely.

"Would you look at that." you whispered, reaching a hand to softly brush against Levi's cheek. "Someone's happy to be with their uncle Jacob." You rest your hand on Jacob's shoulder, squeezing it gently.

"Look at that smile." He said, as you rested your cheek on Jacob's shoulder. he leaned his head on yours.

"He's a cutie."

"Tell Sam this is her cutest baby yet." Jacob joked. You turned to her the oft laughter of your friend, Sam behind you.

"You said the same thing about Addy."

"Don't tell her i said that." Jacob joked, making you and Sam laugh. You got up from the couch, going to greet your friend.

"Both of the tots are asleep." She glanced at Levi, still being cradled by Jacob. "Technically all tots are asleep."

"It seems Levi's got the best spot in the house." You laughed, both of you watching as Jacob rocked Levi carefully, lulling the baby to sleep. For someone who was afraid to hold a baby, he sure was a natural.

"He's a natural y/n." Sam said softly. You couldn't help but smile, your heart warming up when Jacob kissed Levi's head softly.

"Yeah."

"Real dad-material you got right there. You better make some babies before he takes mine." She joked, making you chuckle. You shook your head.

"You know we haven't really talked about it yet. But I could see him as a dad."

And the more you thought about it, the more you stared at Jacob holding Levi carefully in his arms, the more you melted at the thought of him holding your own baby. Jacob turned, smiling at you before looking back at Levi. It felt right. And somehow you had the feeling that you two would be back in this scene again, him holding a baby like they were the whole world. And a soft smile adorned you face, because you knew that was all you'd ever want.

#jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi fluff

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popatochisssp · 2 years

Note

Is there a story for the mahou au?

Not a fully fleshed-out one, at least in terms of a published (or planned to be published) multi-chapter fic, or anything, but there's a pretty solid plot to it and a few stray scenes and drabbles I've written, mostly self-indulgent sona/skeleton content but y'know lol

Basically, things go like this…

Here's Ebott City. It's chilling. 'Damn, that is a sweet city,' you might say--wrong!

Jasper and Pyre show up out of nowhere at the Hero Association one day because they (but mostly Pyre) are being recruited by a suspicious evil organization and the only way to escape assimilation is to join the other team instead.

There's systems in place for this kinda thing at least, protocol for bad guys who want a redemption arc, but maybe don't want to serve a jail sentence for all the crimes and property damage and whatnot--glorified community service, paying the city back by being a hero (with garnished wages) under the supervision of an established and trustworthy existing hero.

So as a villain, you need somebody to vouch for you, who'll be held accountable if you're a liar or try to weasel out of your debt to society early.

No problem for Pyre, who's been Papyrus' rival for forever, and Papyrus has only been trying to convince Pyre to change his ways since their very first grand battle, so he's totally hyped to be his sponsor.

It's a bit of a problem for Jasper, who is really not on great terms with any of the heroes, and there's a rule about only taking on one liability at a time so the least of all the evils (Papyrus) is not an option. He ends up with Sky as the second least evil, and he's a brutal taskmaster who refuses to let Jasper skip out on hero training or cut corners or run away from his fears and commitments and responsibilities.

He…may try to literally run, at least once, in the middle of the night, when the 'oh god what am i doing here, i can't be a hero, i can't hack it' hits and nobody will try to stop him because everybody's asleep…except justice never sleeps, and Sky had a feeling he was gonna pull something like this and a midnight ass-kicking is a clear enough message to Jasper that he's gotta see this one through (or else).

So that's them for awhile, going about business as usual and mostly spinning their wheels on this villain conspiracy thing, having random encounters with bad guys who are suddenly coordinating with each other and doing things that don't make sense, old faces and new ones and nobody can figure out what's going on or why--just that it's probably bad.

The worse things get, the more involved Papy gets with hero business until he can longer hide it from his brother, who is understandably not happy. Slate was under the impression that Papy was in nursing school and going out to study groups with friends, but he's back with the Hero Association? Again? Without him? Uncool, he doesn't appreciate being played for a chump, and after what happened to them (to their whole team) how can he still want to do this?

Alas, Papy's a do-gooder through and through and couldn't stand sitting on the sidelines, so he doesn't regret going back. He does regret lying about it, that was poorly done, but he just didn't think Slate would understand--and he was right, he doesn't!

But the disagreement between the veteran heroes is put on hold when Ell shows up out of the blue, claiming he has information about the Villains' Cabal that they ought to be very interested in. They don't know what to make of him at first and question his credibility--especially when he says he wants them to help him extract a known villain from the ranks in exchange for his info--but when he name-drops King, Slate and Papy are suddenly paying quite a lot of attention and insisting to see what he's found.

Ell is the first real lead they've gotten since all of this started happening (much bigger than the tiny clues and mysterious messages they've been receiving from Nobody) and he has loads of evidence: bank records, news clippings, photos--and stars above, it's true, there he is, that's King and his brother Brick, Slate and Papy's former teammates behind this all, and Ell still isn't quite able to say what they're planning but the fact it's them means it's big and it's bad.

So alright then, all hands on deck for this one, all petty squabbles and disagreements left at the door until business is handled.

They plan a raid on one of the Cabal's facilities, intending to infiltrate and access the computer systems directly where Ell will have a much better chance of finding more specifics about The Big Evil Plan. It's just an outpost, should be an easy enough mission, main crew will cause a distraction while a smaller team slips off to get the goods.

Except nobody was expecting the Big Bad and his even bigger right-hand man to actually be there, and that throws a pretty nasty wrench in things.

Everyone gets a harrowingly serious smackdown and they make it out in one piece only because they were allowed to escape--one last favor from King to his former teammates.

So they regroup.

Ell got distracted in the middle of his hacking when Merc showed up and he gave chase, ultimately leading to badly corrupted data when a failsafe activated and he was away from the terminal and unable to counteract it in time. And it was a waste anyway, because Merc didn't want to be saved, he wanted King to accomplish his goal which--between the usable data and King's own villain monologuing words--they finally know.

He's found an ancient artifact with unfathomable power beyond mortal ken, and he's going to use it to steal away the mahou magic from everyone in the world, absorbing it all into himself instead.

So that's not good! One kind of mahou powers in one person with bad intentions is enough to cause some serious trouble, but for one person to have all of them? They can't let that happen, it'll be a disaster!

But the data they retrieved is corrupted, even with Ell's best efforts to find something useful on it, he's only able to recover the when and the how: the details of the artifact and the dark ritual that's going to be performed, and when, specifically, it's all going to go down.

But where? King has dozens of compounds scattered all around the globe, maybe even hundreds, and they have no way of knowing which it will be and to get there in time to stop anything.

…And that's about when Nemo pays them a visit, in person this time, since it's nearly the eleventh hour and his usual anonymous cryptic hints weren't going to cut it with so much on the line.

They doubt him, naturally, even more than they doubted Ell because he's a villain, he's high up in the organization if he really has been entrusted with this information, why should they believe he's not trying to get them in the wrong place at the right time?

Nemo removes his mask, showing his face for the first time in years and admits that he's doing it for his brother.

Only the old guard recognize him and know he's talking about Pitch, but the rest still doubt because that guy doesn't need any protecting.

But 'protecting' isn't what Nemo's trying to do, really…maybe 'rein in' is a better word. Pitch has spent the years since his injury looking for greater, bigger, more dangerous thrills and it's been hard for Nemo to watch, much less participate. Even knowing he's bull-headed and reckless by nature and that'll probably never change, if you could stop your brother from doing one really stupid thing…wouldn't you?

Ell, with his confrontation with Merc still fresh in his mind, decides to trust him. And as the resident stubborn, paranoid, conspiracy nut, most of the rest figure that if he thinks Nemo's on the level, he probably is.

They get ready for the final showdown and hope like hell they didn't put their trust in the wrong guy.

They didn't.

Merc is guarding the compound when they arrive, and he's never far from his benefactor so they know they've got the right place. He's still a hell of an obstacle, so it's good news with bad news, but Ell volunteers to fight/distract him while the others go on.

Pitch is the next layer of security and much more of a problem. Even when they tell him that King's planning to steal away everyone's mahou powers, including his, he doesn't back down--he doesn't need his powers to fight, the only thing he can see resulting from this is people working harder to be formidable with what they've got, shaking up the status quo, and he's very much on board with that.

He's outnumbered but still somehow not outmatched and having the time of his life against so many opponents. Bring it on! Who's next?

And Nemo steps out of the shadows, taking his place in front of him.

It makes the manic grin drop off Pitch's face for sure, making him falter because what… he doesn't… He doesn't want to fight Nemo… But Nemo's not backing down either--Pitch is going to have one opponent until this is all over, and it'll be him.

The rest keep going while they fight, time is running out, the ritual will be getting underway about now.

The heroes bust into the inner-sanctum in time to see Mal and Rus having it out, arguing over the Ancient Artifact which Mal is trying to put into place and Rus is trying to wrest away from him.

Rus has been thinking about this and he doesn't want to do it, he doesn't want to lose his mahou powers, he feels like he's supposed to have them, and even if he didn't, it shouldn't be one person's call to decide that for everybody!

Mal is totally blindsided and at literally the worst possible time, he's pissed…but when King shoves his brother hard and takes the Artifact to just do it himself, he breaks rank too.

It may be horrible timing for Rus' independent streak and it may be fucking up all of Mal's plans, but damn it, he's proud, and nobody pushes his brother around, not without hearing from him!

So the heroes have a couple of new allies (?), and they're going to need them because King is beginning the ritual and his giant brute of a bodyguard isn't going to let anyone get close without a hell of a fight.

Brick doesn't pull any punches, a solemn single-minded enforcer quashing all attempts to slip by him and stop what's happening.

Merc and Ell stumble in together--Ell finally broke through Merc's shell with a lot of 'this isn't you' and 'you don't need his help, you don't need to get rid of this part of you, we can still be heroes, like you always wanted'--but even the added bodies don't help turn the tide.

Brick's too strong, and the Artifact is working, everyone in the room is gradually weakening as their mahou magic is taken and transferred to King.

A last ditch effort, Slate and Papy plead with the massive wall of bone that used to be their friend, begging him to see reason and stop his brother before it's too late, before he destroys himself with this mad quest.

When Brick is unmoved and only signs that King is strong and can handle it, that's when they realize.

King had kept something back from Brick, about this ritual.

A mortal body could only handle so much of a mahou power before burning out. It took too much, it wasn't sustainable, and to take on that power from others too only heightened the risk to the person who held it.

To take all the mahou, from everyone in the world…

It was a death sentence.

If King did this, he'd be dead in a week, no matter how strong he was.

And that's finally enough to give Brick pause, to make him look to King, standing there with the Ancient Artifact, overseeing the ritual that would let him do the thing he'd been crowing about for years, ever since they all got hurt that day. He expects his brother to explain his grand plan again, to boast about how he's being the biggest damn hero in the world and turning a million little burdens into one big one that he'll shoulder by himself, that he's powerful and he can take it and everything will be better.

Except…King is silent.

Because it's true, and he knew, he'd known all along that this would kill him in the end, but it was a necessary sacrifice to him because when he died, the mahou would die with him.

And as Brick realizes this, horror and rage mingling to know that his selfless selfish idiot of a brother was really going to let him help him kill himself, he opens his mouth for the first time anyone can remember.

The sound is cracking and strained, red sparks of magic flying from the jagged crack in his throat and the scowl on his face takes a pained edge, but it doesn't stop him from growling the words.

"fu--uc-k…..tha-a-t."

And then, it's really on.

It's a clash of titans between Brick and King, one larger than life and furious and the other fueled by desperation and with an ever increasing trickle of everyone else's mahou abilities, both refusing to back down.

The weakened, beaten down heroes (and villains [?]) help where they can, and between them all…

They win.

They get the Artifact away from King, and Brick doesn't hesitate to crush it to pieces underfoot, and with its destruction all of the stolen mahou energies burst back, rebounding to where they belong in a flash of light and crackle of magic.

While everyone celebrates and cheers, King is left on his knees in the wreckage of everything he'd spent so long building, his hopes and dreams once again (literally, this time) shattered on the floor.

In disbelief, devastated, all King can do is say that he was going to fix it, he was going to fix everything--how could Brick do this?

But for Brick it's no great mystery. He did what he did for the same reason King was trying to do what he was trying to do.

'because i love you too much to let you be hurt again.'

And that was always King's problem: too much love, too much self-sacrifice, and not enough trust in other people to take care of themselves and do the right thing.

…But Brick is here, helping him up off the floor, and Slate and Papy are right behind him, his old team back together again, tired and battered and relieved just like they always were after a rough fight and it's…

It's too much.

For the first time since King killed Undyne, he finally cries.

"I…JUST……… I WANTED………"

He's not sure anymore.

"I WANTED TO FIX IT…"

"We Still Can."

"keyword 'we'. not just you going off by yourself all half-cocked like usual, ya hotshot. thought you'd have grown outta that by now…"

'never. stupid. always been stupid, always be stupid.'

"heheheh, yeah that sounds right."

"Slate, Don't Be Rude, We Haven't Seen Them In Years, You Can't Be Your Usual Self Until It's Been At Least A Few Hours!"

"oh are we not counting king's monologue? i thought that put us over the edge…"

"No, Monologues Don't Count, They're Necessary Exposition For The……….."

And god damn it, it feels so normal, it feels like nothing ever happened, like it's just the team ribbing and bickering like they always did, and King feels so young, so stupid, so…warm.

Stars, what a mess this all is…

The celebrating heroes all around them start remembering that the guy who started all this is still here, still not knocked out or apprehended, and the sudden increasing trickle of attention and eyes on the group at the center of the room cuts their reunion a little short.

"Go On, You'd Better Get Out Of Here Before Someone Tries To Arrest You!"

"YOU'RE NOT GOING TO…?"

"I Was Thinking Instead, You'd Take a Swing At Slate, And Dodge When I Fire On You Center-Mass After He Goes Down, And Then Grab Brick's Harness And Yell Something About Him Being An Incompetent Buffoon Who Would Pay For Betraying You Or Something. And Then You Run Off To One Of Your Evil Lairs That Our Conspiracy Theorist Hacker Friend Doesn't Know About."

Brick squints and mouths 'incompetent buffoon???' but King is more focused on the important part.

"I… YOU'RE LETTING US GO?"

"not if you're not quick about it, it's gonna get suspicious if you take too much longer." Slate shrugs with a quick wink. "we'll find you later, to talk more. you know i got my ways."

And that's pretty much how it goes down.

Brick and King escape in a flair of dramatic theatrics, and not many of the onlookers buy it, but Slate and Papy are experienced veterans, whatever they're doing they probably know what it is…

Merc and Ell approach the heroes together with matching pleading looks, hoping to get Merc a spot on the team too--and well, he'll have to join on the community service basis, y'know, because of the crimes, but that's not a problem at all! They finally get to be heroes together, after all this time!

Mal and Rus approach a little more tentatively, Rus hopeful and Mal visibly annoyed.

"can i do the community service whatever too???"

"uh…yeah, i guess… what about him?"

"WHAT ABOUT ME? THE OTHER OPTION'S JAIL, RIGHT?"

"yeah."

"THEN I GUESS I'M FUCKING DOING THE COMMUNITY SERVICE WHATEVER!"

Pitch and Nemo are gone for a long time, completely disappeared off the map and nobody really knows what happened to them, never saw the end of their fight or what they did after, but ages after everything goes down, they're back--and they want in on the hero racket too.

Even with a reserve squad lingering around the base, Nemo's always thought the Hero Association's security is lacking, and he can help with that. As for Pitch, he's done some thinking, and he thinks he'd be a damn good coach for newbies with wild, unpredictable powers, y'know since he's so wild and unpredictable himself and always excited for a new challenge.

Well, stars help them all, fine, hope they don't regret this but welcome aboard to you too!

No one ever sees Brick and King again…or at least, nobody who'll admit to having seen them.

Slate and Papy, both officially reinstated heroes again, tend to drop off the radar every now and again and when they come back they always seem to have new and very thoroughly discussed ideas for improvements in hero training, health care, therapy and rehabilitation programs, plus a healthy cash-flow to actually make it happen.

Where the money comes from, it's impossible to say…but it might be the same mysterious benefactor that's funneling money into environmental programs, and social reform, and a dozen other causes all over Ebott, making change in small but measurable, meaningful ways.

A happy ending? Maybe not exactly…but it's not exactly an ending either, just…a new way forward.

A way where people can learn to live with their powers, to accept themselves as they are with the resources to help them when they get in over their heads.

An imperfect solution for an imperfect world, but maybe a little bit better every day.

#anonymous #headcanons #mahou au #the gang's all here #do you see now #do you see the extent of brainrot i have about this au #'heehee funny food-theme magical girl au' is just the tip of the iceberg #it's nonsense all the way down

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ateezmakemeweep · 3 years

Text

playing with fire (part 1)

word count: 23k

fluff, smut (warning: age gap, infidelity, roommate’s father)

(series masterlist)

“is there any other way you could pay?” the woman behind the desk asked, stout and soft spoken with sympathy in her eyes.

she probably has to have this conversation with students a lot, tell them that their tuition payment didn’t go through or that they’re not eligible for government support.

or that the athletics department needed more scholarship money, successfully rendering you, one of the many photography majors on campus, unable to pay for your last semester of college.

“a loan of some sort or another scholarship, maybe?” she tried to help, “i could send over an e-mail of ones you might be eligible for.”

you swallow the lump forming in your throat, attempting to calm all the anxiety and stress violently making its way through your body.

“y-yes, that would be great, thank you,” you barely manage to get out, hoping and praying to some unknown force above that you don’t burst into tears.

you were nearing the end of the fall semester, the last fall semester you ever anticipated of having, when you found out just last week that you were no longer eligible for your scholarship.

in a short, curt e-mail explaining that, while you kept up your gpa and never strayed from the requirements, they’ve maxed out their amount of funding and are looking to use that money elsewhere.

“can they do that!?” your best friend and roommate of four years yelps, gucci sunglasses atop her head as she stomps around your shared, off-campus apartment.

“they can’t seriously do that! you’ve been a straight a student since you started and now they wanna take it away?! before your last semester of senior year?!”

“eunbi, it’s not ideal but i’ve already come to terms with it,” you explain gently, leaving out the part where you did, in fact, have a break down right outside the bursar office only an hour ago. “i’ll just save up money and come back in the fall to finish.”

“that’s so not right or fair though!” she whines, something about the concept of not getting what she wants unfamiliar to your roommate.

you first met park eunbi during freshmen move in day, your two raggedy luggages and beat up backpacks an embarrassing contrast to the multiple louis vuitton travel bags she lunged in.

you were intimidated for all of three seconds, before she looked at you with a smile and threw her arms around you like a long lost best friend.

it was obvious she came from money, the way she spoke and carried herself so confidently before her parents came in and introduced themselves.

they were both gorgeous and tall and looked far too young to have an 18-year-old daughter, covered in fancy jewelry and expensive looking clothing.

her dad, who introduced himself as mr. park seonghwa, didn’t seem to bat an eye at your more humble appearance. he reminded you a lot of eunbi, honest and genuine in the way he was kind and nonjudgemental.

mrs. park seemed nice enough, too, though you could see the judgement behind her pretty eyes.

the way she sneered at your bags and looked down at your hands, so different from her and her daughter’s not covered in diamond bracelets or acrylic nails.

“did we just miss your parents?” she asked, her voice just as pretty and rich sounding as she appeared; you bet if she laughed, she’d had have that melodic, care-free laugh all rich women seem to have.

“oh, uh, yeah, i’m sorry,” you apologized, lying through your teeth with a shy smile and averting gaze - you had to move in by yourself, the same way you traveled here all alone with no one to send you off.

“it’s okay, we just thought it’d be nice to meet them,” eunbi’s father interjects, the smile on his handsome face causing your stomach to swoop - how is he a dad?

“we were gonna take eunbi to an early dinner before we left. do you wanna join us?”

“oh no, it’s okay, i’d hate to intru-”

“no, you’re coming, c’mon!” your new roommate whined, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the door. “we’ll be able to get a lot of dessert out of them. probably the whole menu if we wanted.”

and you saw that over the years, eunbi knew she could, in fact, get whatever she wanted from her parents. they had the money and the means and the fondness in their hearts for their only daughter.

but it never seemed to get to your friend.

she was always kind and thoughtful of others and never said or did anything to suggest she was just a brainless, spoiled rich kid.

even in your guy’s second year when she found out you were going to school on an academic scholarship, she didn’t care. she didn’t turn her nose up or think you were lesser than her for not having the funds; if anything, it only made her praise you more.

that you were smart and ambitious enough to work under the strict guidelines of a prestigious scholarship.

“i know it’s not fair,” you mumble, not wanting to cry or have another anxiety attack over this matter. “but it is what it is. i’ll figure it out.”

she lets out a dejected, defeated sigh so uncharacteristic of the girl, plopping down on her pink, fluffy bed and bringing you down with her.

“we’ll sell feet pics over winter break,” she concludes after a few minutes of silence, wrapping her arm around yours and curling her body into yours. “you know how much money we can get from that? and we have pretty feet,” she says, sticking her leg up and wiggling her red, painted toes.

there’s a little less tightness in your chest and a little heaviness lifted in your stomach as you let out a giggle, looking over at your best friend who truly got you through the last four years of school.

you really don’t know how you’d still be functioning if it weren’t for her.

“you’re sick.”

“i’m serious,” she giggles out, flipping on her side and causing the bed to bounce under you. “you’re still good with coming tomorrow, right? i told my parents you were.”

she had invited you to her house for the winter break this year, the girl not wanting you to spend a month alone in the apartment.

you’ve shared with her how strained your relationship with your parents has been, really, since birth. never seeing eye to eye to them and feeling as if they never had your best interests at heart.

when most kids get full ride scholarships, their parents are immensely proud. bragging about how smart they are and telling them how proud they were.

but your parents were the opposite.

they didn’t want you to up and leave them to pursue an education. they thought you were gonna stay with them forever, not go to college like them and help run the family business back home in your tiny little hometown.

it was your dream to go to college and get a degree, though, so that’s exactly what you did for yourself; but they saw it as a giant fuck you.

saw it as you thinking you were better than them and basically told you to never come back if you thought you were so much smarter and better off without them.

so you’d spent every winter or summer vacation in the dorms, this year finally being the time you accepted eunbi’s invitation to stay over - reluctantly.

“i packed all my stuff, yeah,” you mumble, hands twisted into one another nervously. “but... are you sure they’re okay with it? i don’t wanna intrude or be there if i’m not wanted.”

“y/n, please,” she whines, “my mom may be a raging bitch but you know i make the rules in that house.”

“that’s not what i meant,” you mutter immediately, looking to the girl with a small frown on your lips.

although it was no secret eunbi’s mom didn’t ever seem too fond of you, always sneering at your off-brand items or questioning the logistics of why exactly you needed a scholarship to afford college, you always tried to remain polite.

smile at her and greet her happily even though there was always a thick, palpable tension between you two.

“oh but it is,” she chuckles out, the girl far too aware of what a materialistic snob her mother is. “it’s fine, i know she’s a bitch. my dad’s just coming tomorrow anyway. i told him to bring one of the bigger cars so we can lay out in the back.”

you have to bite back a snarky comment about the fact there are multiple cars in question, though the look in your eye certainly gives it away. she can only giggle and shrug her shoulders, flopping onto her back as she tells you about how excited she is to be reunited with her boyfriend.

eunbi and jiwoon have been dating since their second year of high school, going to colleges only an hour away from each other; he was just as handsome as he was kind and good to her, leaving you with no other option but to love and support the both of them.

and you try to listen to her rambling that ensues, you really do, but your mind is swirling with some slight anxiety about staying with her family for a month.

you don’t wanna make her mom even more irritated, deal with the side eyes and passive aggressive comments and overall feeling of just not being wanted.

you don’t want eunbi to feel obligated to be with you 24/7, act as a cock block to her and her boyfriend who haven’t seen each other in almost six weeks.

and maybe, you don’t want your tiny, small, miniscule crush on mr. park to make you feel any more awkward than it does, wondering how a married man who has a daughter in college is still so handsome and alluring.

it also doesn’t help that he’s just so incredibly kind, always making everyone feel so comfortable and welcomed, it’d be hard not to just develop a little, secret crush on him.

“eunbi, who is that sexy ass man who just dropped you off?” one of your suite mates asks your roommate, everyone gathering back in front of the dorm building after winter break.

it was sophomore year and you spent a month in the quiet, almost eerie college dorms alone (apart from the ra down the hall). you were grateful for everyone to return, no matter how loud or catty things were about to become.

“yeah, for real. is that your new boyfriend? he’s hotter than the last one and i didn’t even think that was possible.”

“uhhh.. no,” eunbi says, shooting the crowd of girls with lustful eyes and curious glances a look of distaste. “that’s my dad.”

and that’s when a chorus of disbelief and inappropriate comments erupted from the group of college girls.

asking how a dad could look like that while hoping and praying he’s single.

inquiring about just how much her dad’s on campus and when’s the next time he’s gonna pick her up.

about how he’s definitely hotter than her boyfriend, with a more mature and sophisticated look than these college boys.

“are they fucking serious! like how disgusting? he’s my literal father!” eunbi rages once in the dorm room, sharing a few curse words and vulgar phrases at the girl’s before stomping away from them.

“and for them to say that shit in front of me? did they think i want to hear that?”

“i know, that was so sick,” you agree, because even though you, too, think he’s attractive, it’s not something you would ever verbalize to your friend.

“like... i know he’s younger than most dads, my parents had me when they were teenagers, but shit! how sick,” she rants, throwing down her heavy designer bags and flopping on her bed.

you can tell by the look on her face how much it truly bothers her, everyone always noticing her dad and making comments like that. she handles it well, she’s always able to handle herself well, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that it’s something that worries her.

people getting close to her to get to her dad, even if it was teachers or other moms in elementary school or her friends when she got to college.

it’s one of the many reasons you would never give away your little crush on him - because it’s not only inappropriate and uncomfortable for her to know but there’s also no need to tell her.

because it’s not like it would go anywhere.

he’s a married man and your roommate’s father, a twisted, dark, forbidden fantasy that will stay in the walls of your head and never see the light of day - no matter how thrilling and fulfilling being with him would be.

“eunbi, your dad’s gonna be here soon,” you yell into your roommate’s doorway, met with the sound of her groaned “five more minutes!” that you’ve been hearing for the past twenty.

she was on facetime with jiwoon when you went to bed around one, briefly waking to the sound of her girlish screams or high-pitched giggles three hours later; you wouldn’t be surprised if she only went to bed a few hours ago.

“you said five more minutes thirty minutes ago,” you say, stomping your way over before smacking her over the head with a pillow. she lets out a loud sigh before swatting you away, your surprisingly fast reflexes grabbing her wrist.

she peeks one eye open as a smirk covers her morning face, looking from you all dressed up and ready in your pink pleated skirt and white thigh high stockings, down to her wrist in your hold.

“that was kinda hot. and you look good. i don’t know how to act right now.”

“shut up and get your ass out of bed,” you demand, biting back a smile as you storm out of her room.

you’d been pacing around the apartment ever since you woke up at seven a.m., more and more unsettled about staying over her house as the time drew closer.

you checked to make sure you had enough clothes and chargers and skincare products for nearly an hour, finally settling the same purple suitcase you moved in with freshmen year near the door.

you hope mrs. park doesn’t notice, remembering the way she sneered at the wonky zipper and slightly stained bottom.

you also hope you can keep yourself in check, not get too nervous or flustered by eunbi’s exorbitant wealth or a new setting you don’t feel welcomed in or her hot ass father whose bones you wanna jump.

the knock at the door completely sobers you, jumping in your spot just in time to see eunbi fly across the living room to get to the door. there’s a big, happy smile on her face, ripping open the door and greeting her father in typical eunbi fashion.

“are those for me?” she asks, snatching the red box from his hands.

excitement bubbles inside the girl as she unveils twelve chocolate covered strawberries, a speciality at one of the local dessert shops just a few miles from her home.

“you shouldn’t have, dad, really. i’m much too tired to appreciate this.”

the man can only look at his daughter with a look of disdain and affection, waking up to an extremely passive aggressive text that she’d really appreciate an early morning treat from her favorite place ever and that it’d really inspire her to be ready.

but as he can currently see, given the state of her hair and pajamas pants, it didn’t at all act as a motivator.

“then maybe i should just-” but upon her father’s hand reaching out to grab the box of strawberries, the girl brings it to her body and runs away, yelling that her bags are packed and she’s just gonna wash her face.

he looks to you with a mock annoyed expression, your heart jumping in your chest as you send him a small, polite smile.

“how do you deal with her, y/n?” he asks, a smirk on his face rising as you let out a soft, slightly forced giggle - this man looks too good for his own good at ten o’clock in the morning.

“don’t talk shit about me!” she yelps before you can even think to say something, a smile lighting up his face again before he nods his head down the hall.

“i’ll bring down your girl’s bags,” he says, his tall, large frame coming toward you making your knees feel slightly wobbly.

you swear you see his eyes roam over you for the shortest of seconds, down to your shirt and exposed legs before back to your face, until he’s looking into your eyes questioningly.

totally not like someone who just checked out their daughter’s roommate - this is what you feared, your own delusionals and attraction making your crazy little brain see something that’s not there.

“her bedroom’s down that hall?”

you resist the urge to swallow nervously, begging yourself to snap out of it and remind yourself you have to deal with the man for a month. a month of his dark, piercing eyes and bright, white smile and skin so smooth and clear, it’s far too easy to forget he’s almost forty years old.

“yeah,” you barely manage to get out. “i-i can help and bring down mine.”

“no, it’s okay,” he insists, “help in getting eunbi ready. you know she’ll delay us thirty more minutes.”

you let out another strained chuckle as you nod your head, finally letting out the breath you’ve been holding when you hear his footsteps disappear down the hall and into her room.

as long as you distance yourself from him, not look him in the eye or let any sort of idea get in your head that an older, married man could want you back, this will be fine.

it’ll be a nice, calm, relaxed break actually full of interaction and socialization opposed to your usual lonely bubble of solitude.

eunbi’s not making that very easy though, when twenty minutes later, she’s opening the back door of her father’s black g-wagen and sprawling out on the black leather seats.

“where’s y/n supposed to go, eunbi?” seonghwa asked, the fatherly tone is his voice causing eunbi to let out a huff; the only time you see eunbi’s spoiled tendencies come out is around her father, the girl knowing he’ll do anything and everything for her.

and apparently, so will you.

sitting in the front seat of her car, next to her extremely hot father you’re trying to stay calm around, while she sleeps soundly in the backseat - if she didn’t invite to stay at her home, meals and bed and transportation free, you’d say she has to owe you.

“was she up all night talking to jiwoon?” mr. park asked, the past few moments of silence just as comforting as they were terrifying. it felt awkward to you, extremely tense and full of suspense, but you knew it was completely normal.

you bite down on your lip, looking back at eunbi sleeping soundly on the seat, even prepared with a fuzzy white blanket. you let out a soft giggle when you see her mouth open, the slightest bit of drool hanging from her mouth and threatening to spill on the dark leather.

“she might’ve been,” you mutter, a breathy laugh leaving her father that causes you to sneak a glance at him.

there’s not a hint of a wrinkle or imperfection on his glowing skin, black hair hanging in his face and red lips quirked into a content smile. that’s something you always noticed about him, despite his dark appearance and looming figure, he always appears to be happy.

smiles and laughs and never gives anyone without his same wealth a dirty glance - he treats everyone the same and that’s another reason you’ve taking a liking to him, not just because he’s the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life.

“y/n?” he asks, your intrusive thoughts being ripped away at the sound of his voice calling your name.

your eyes move to his and he’s watching you in slight amusement, a rampant blush creeping up on your cheeks at the way you’ve been caught. you’re quick to look away, shake your head and let out an awkward chuckle and apology.

you miss the way his eyes roam your side profile, a delightful smirk and feeling in his chest blooming before he speaks again.

“how was your semester?”

“it was good,” you say, hands placed nervously in your lap. “a lot of work on top of an internship but it was good.”

“and you girls are almost done,” he hums lowly, one hand atop the steering wheel while his eyes focus on the highway in front of him. “eunbi’s been talking about a combined graduation party since the moment you guys met.”

you let out a small laugh as you remember eunbi’s plan since your second semester of freshmen year, ignoring the twinge of sadness in your stomach.

you could’ve never anticipated delaying your college career when you first received your scholarship, happy and proud and eternally grateful for the opportunity.

but you suppose you’re lucky enough to have gotten this far, and delaying one last semester is nothing compared to people who never get to go to college - but it still makes you feel upset.

you think you have the right to feel disappointed and sad, the lingering sick feeling in your stomach making you feel nauseous.

“is it okay if i open the window for a second?” you mumble to mr. park, the man looking over your face.

he presses down on the passenger window button immediately, your face met with cold air as relief floods through your body.

“are you okay? do you get car sick?” he asks, remembering how much eunbi used to get car sick (on the rare occasion she wasn’t passed out during a road trip).

“not usually,” you mumble, resting your head on the side of the door.

then again, i’m not usually freaking out about making tuition money or repressing my violent attraction to my roommate’s father.

seonghwa watches as you close your eyes for a few moment, allowing the cold, windy air to hit your face. he couldn’t help but notice the pinkish tint to your cheeks, suppressing the urge for his eyes and thoughts to wander.

you’re a college girl in the prime of her life and his daughter’s best friend, he’d be a fool to think you were blushing and nervous because of him - but he also doesn’t remember you looking like.... this.

so pretty and dressed up and pink in the face as you check him out with a soft and curious look in your eye.

“maybe try to take a nap,” he suggests, his gaze lingering back onto the road so he doesn’t look at your exposed legs. “i’ll pull off at a rest stop to get you ginger ale.”

“that’s not necessary, mr. park,” your sweet voice says, something about it causing his insides to jump - he definitely doesn’t remember you sounding like that. “i’ll be okay. just need the window open for a little longer.”

you spend the next few minutes with the cold, december wind blowing through the car, your back pressed against the comfortable seat behind you. a chill runs through your body, goosebumps rising on your exposed thighs, but it feels better than the alternative.

potentially panicking or vomiting due to current stress of your life.

your gaze shifts to the man beside you, whether it be to check him out or ask if he’s cold unknown to you.

“are you okay with the-”

the words are stuck in your throat when you see his eyes aren’t on the road but your exposed, goose-bumpy thighs, the white lace of your thigh high stockings and pink skirt leaving little to the imagination.

you wish you could see the look in his eye, if it’s judgemental and shameful or full of lust and curiosity. if he’s wondering what you have on just a few inches under your skirt and if that’s something he even thinks about.

or maybe he’s just looking because it’s there - your skirt blowing in the wind and him caught off guard by the sight right there in his passenger seat.

“um, i think i’m good now,” you mumble, watching from your peripheral as he shifts in his seat and tightens his hold on the steering wheel.

“alright, let me know if you wanna stop.”

you bite down on your lip as you nod your head, keeping your eyes on the view in front of you.

the faint sounds of eunbi snoring behind you act as a way to ground you, remind you that these thoughts and feelings you’re having can’t stay.

maybe you have to get it our of your system now, take all the looks you can and feel all the hopefulness your delusional brain needs until you act as if eunbi’s father is a mean, disgusting, grotesque man.

not someone who gets your heart and body pounding.

you’re not sure how many songs play on the radio until you both are talking again, seonghwa looking in the rearview mirror to see his daughter still passed out on the seats.

“do you think she’ll sleep the whole time?”

he hope for his sake, she doesn’t.

you look back at eunbi sleeping soundly, the drool previously trickling down her mouth successfully making a pool on the black leather.

“probably,” you chuckle out lightly. “i have a feeling she went to bed around six.”

“shit,” he laughs out, remembering the days he used to be able to pull all nighters in college or dreaded the idea of waking up in the morning. “i can’t remember the last time i was able to stay up past one.”

“you’re not even that old, mr. park,” you tease, not sure where you got the balls to say that and feeling, at least for a few seconds, that you overstepped; but then he lets out a deep, amused chuckle and it causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

“not that old, huh?” he quips, your tooth sinking into your lip at the tone of his voice. “you know i’m turning 40 in a few months, right?”

you crane your neck to look at the man in the driver’s seat, swallowing thickly when you see his eyes are already on you. there’s a certain type of lightness and teasing in them that you’ve never seen before, the man always happy and jovial but never like this.

never looking so... teasing and playful.

“yeah,” you say with a growing smirk, not being able to help your own nervous excitement. “that doesn’t seem too bad.”

the deep, low chuckle that leaves him causes your stomach to swoop, eyes wide and the small smile on your face causing him to look over you once more.

it’s shameless and bold but neither of you seem to care in that moment.

“i’ll keep that in mind,” he says, deep brown eyes piercing through yours before his face turns teasing and.. appropriate.. “the next time eunbi tries to call me an old man or something.”

“right,” you chuckle out, cheeks burning and heart pounding as you allow yourself to break eye contact.

the ride to eunbi’s house is just over two hours, hoping and praying that it goes by quickly - because you’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to be alone, or mostly alone, with him.

you’re thinking too much into his words and his gaze and the way he makes you feel, making you silly enough to believe that, maybe, a part of him wants you too.

the second you arrived at eunbi’s, you had already felt unwelcomed.

not only because of mrs. park, who just about sneered at your presence in her exquisite home, but because of the dozens of other socialites in the immaculately white living room.

it looked and felt almost like a hospital. a white color scheme with black accents, extremely cold and spotless - the only bit of color was in eunbi’s room where it felt like you could actually breathe.

“i’m sorry, i told her not to throw her fucking gathering today,” eunbi complained, grumpy from her nap but still happy to finally be home.

“a bunch of stuck up snobs, i swear to god. they either have to get the stick lodged so far up their asshole removed or get dicked down by their lousy excuses of-”

“eunbi,” you hear her father’s deep voice reprimand, the girl not even feeling the slightest bit of shame or embarrassment for talking that way in front of her father.

“oh, c’mon, dad, you know it’s true!” she whines in a whispered tone. “they’re the worst! and she knew me and y/n were coming today, do you really think that wasn’t a coincidence?”

because, as far as eunbi thinks, she has sinking suspicions that her mom did this solely to make you uncomfortable.

she had already been hesitant to let you stay in the first place, had eunbi not gone full on bitch mode and stubbornly proclaimed she’d spend the break with you at the apartment.

but you didn’t have to know that.

“i don’t care, it’ll just be my first christmas without my family, mom, who cares about that,” she had said, all types of manipulative and toxic behavior that she learned from the best.

she’s sure her mother was sweet and good at one point in her life, she wouldn’t have ended up with her father in the first place if she wasn’t, but money changes people.

wealth and greed and having the power to get anything you want because you flash a stack of money around or write out a check.

“i told her to have them out by dinner,” he said, his eyes moving from eunbi to you, standing there with tense shoulders and a shy, uncomfortable look on your face.

“you’re more than welcomed here, y/n,” he said, his voice low and full of kindness as he stands in eunbi’s doorway. “don’t worry about it, okay?”

you resist the urge to pout at the touched feeling in your chest, looking from the man to eunbi who’s nodding at her dad’s words.

“thank you, mr. park,” you say, a phrase he swears has never effected him this deeply.

and because of that, he’s quick to haul ass out of there. tells you guys that dinner will be ready around seven and to come down whenever.

you and eunbi spend that time in her room to unpack both of your things and watch movies, her king sized bed nearly lulling you to sleep until her loud squeal and bounce of the bed causes you to jump in shock.

“y/n, don’t be mad at me please,” she whines directly in your face, all wide-eyed and cutesy as she looks at you with mock innocence.

“what did you do?” you mumble tiredly, pushing her away with the smallest of sneers.

“i’ll be back for dinner, i promise, but... is it okay if i go to jiwoon’s for a little?” she asks, cocking her head to the side before shimming closer to you. “i have to get railed so bad.”

“jesus christ, eunbi,” you snort, pushing her away again and burying your face in the pillow - you’ve never met someone who overshares as much as she does.

she plops down on her back with an unabashed giggle, popping right back up like an annoying little dog and looking at you with a smile.

“of course you can go, i’m not gonna hold you hostage here,” you say when she pulls your face away, looking at you so expectantly and sweetly, you couldn’t say no if you wanted.

“okay, but i don’t want you thinking that i’m gonna ditch you this whole time. i’m really not, y/n,” she pouts, knowing that was one of the reasons you were apprehensive about coming - that and her bitch of a mother. “i just miss him.”

a pout falls on your face as you look at eunbi and the genuine look on her face.

“bi, i’m serious, go. i want you to,” you insist, moving a piece of her tangled hair away from her face. “we were just gonna be up here anyway. i’ll probably take a nap, i was about to fall asleep before your loud ass-”

“thank you, thank you, thank you,” she says, pulling you into a tight hug before jumping off her bed and rushing toward her door. “i’ll be back a lot more calm and happy. oh, why, you ask? because i’m about to get my back blown the fuck ou-”

you thank god for your impeccable aim, promptly whacking eunbi in the face with one of her pillows.

“get out of here,” you groan, eunbi throwing the pillow back with a smile on her face.

“sweet dreams, y/n!”

you let out a sigh when she closes her door, falling back onto her bed with a soft plop.

you were definitely tired from your anxious pacing this morning but aren’t sure how much sleep you’re gonna get right now, tonight or for the rest of the month.

knowing that you’re unwelcomed by one person, extremely attracted to another and silently betraying the person you should be most loyal too - but as long as it just stays in your head, and you remind yourself that there’s no way mr. park could feel anything back to you, it’ll be fine.

you’ll just get by quietly and smoothly at dinners or in passing through the hallways, enjoy eunbi’s comfortable king-sized bed and the fact that you don’t have to spend yet another holiday alone.

reruns of drake and josh play in the background, keeping your giggles quiet as drake soaks his feet in lizard pee. you feel your eyes grow heavy the more episodes you watch, the shitty laugh track and loud, bickering brothers eventually lulling you to sleep.

it takes about five knocks on the door to eventually stir you, your eyes fluttering open to see mr park’s figure in the doorway. you can only stare at the man as you adjust to him, taking in his tall, slim figure just a few feet away from you.

taking in the way his white shirt clings to his body, broad shoulders and slim torso on display in a way that makes you wish you could see, just for a second, what he looks like underneath that a-

“sorry if i woke you,” his deep voice hums, the slightest bit of amusement in his voice that causes your cheeks to warm. “i didn’t think you’d be sleeping at seven p.m.”

“no, it’s okay,” you stammer out, sitting up in eunbi’s bed. “i... i don’t even know when i fell asleep, to be honest.”

he looks at the screen to see drake and josh playing, a smirk pulling at his lips as his gaze shifts back to you.

“it’s funny,” you defend with a mumble, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth that causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach - he’s far too handsome, everything about him is just far too attractive, even in his laugh.

“that’s what eunbi claims,” he says, remembering all the years of his daughter forcing him to watch ridiculous shows.

despite his daughter’s outgoing nature, she never had a lot of friends growing up.

there was once a small group of girls she hung out but they quickly drifted apart throughout high school, leaving eunbi really only with him and her boyfriend.

the boyfriend who seonghwa really didn’t wanna like out of principal but seeing that the kid really does love his daughter quickly coming around.

“speaking of, where is she? jiwoon’s?”

“yeah,” you tell him, settling back into the pillows and stretching your arms out in front of you. “she said she’d be back for dinner.”

“well she’s wrong, as usual, because dinner’s ready,” he quips playfully, the smirk pulling at his lips causing you to smile back at him. you swallow nervously when his eyes roam over your face, your own gaze trained on him before you see his mouth start to move again.

“do you want me to bring some up for you? or you’ll come down?”

he can see the apprehension on your face immediately, fear crossing your eyes and your arms folding into each other uncomfortably. he tries to ignores the way your soft white sweater dips by your chest, a hint of perky cleavage just barely showing that causes his dick to twitch in his pants.

he doesn’t know when this happened.

he didn’t know when he became a pervy old man who checked out college girls with his wife just downstairs and the knowledge that you’re his daughter’s friend.

“i’ll come down,” you say, surprising him just as he was about to insist he brings some up for you. “she’ll probably be back soon anyway.”

but five minutes pass by, then ten, then twenty and eunbi’s still not home - it’s just you, seonghwa and mrs. park at the long, glass dining room table.

white chairs with high backs and comfortable cushions to match the immaculate, hospital-like color scheme and environment; truthfully, you’ve never been more terrified to eat a plate of chicken parmesan in your life.

the sound of utensils scraping on the china and the crackling of the fireplace a room over are the only noises heard throughout the home, mrs. park taking a swig of wine and gently placing it on the table with a light clack.

“so, y/n,” she finally says, breaking the tension with her rich-sounding, nasally voice. “how has school been, dear? you’re an... art major, am i remembering that correctly?”

“uh, photography, yeah,” you smile tensely, trying to ignore the judgment in her voice.

“ah, so you never switched over to business then,” she hums, her wine glass back in hand as her dark, gorgeous eyes look you over.

you bite the inside of your cheek as you feel a pink flush cover your face, faintly remembering your roommate saving you a few semesters ago when her mom was grilling you about picking a more practical and useful major.

“she can do whatever she wants, mom,” eunbi eventually snapped, “whether she does business or photography or even liberal arts is none of your business.”

“no,” you mutter out, dropping your gaze to look over the intricate pattern on the table. “i thought about it but it wasn’t something i wanted.”

“so you didn’t want something practical? or useful?” she asks, using those two words yet again while cocking her head to the side with a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

“a business degree would’ve been great, y/n. everyone always has connections to somewhere, you could’ve found a job right out of college.”

you bite back the urge to tell her no. that not everyone has connections to multi billion dollar companies or numbers of ceos in their phones or the ceo of a tech company as their next door neighbors.

but instead, the same way eunbi defended you against her mother, seonghwa does against his wife. gives you a soft, sympathetic side eye before placing his larger hand on his wife’s.

“there are tons of jobs in photography too, honey,” seonghwa says, his voice so warm and soft and welcoming compared to hers even despite the slight edge in it.

“and she can travel to build her portfolio. it’s a fantastic opportunity to explore the world and make money. is there a particular type of photography you’d wanna do?”

you feel yourself relax slightly, a small smile on your face as you nod your head toward the striking couple.

“i would love to be a wedding photographer actually,” you mumble, a romantic at heart who’s read and watched far too many novels and romcoms.

“taking pictures of all those moments would be really fun, i think. like when the groom sees the bride for the first time or just everyone dancing and having fun. weddings are usually happy and i like to photography happy things.”

“that sounds perfect for you then,” seonghwa smiles, his brown eyes lighting up and making you feel even more at ease.

“i think you’ll do great, y/n. and you only have a semester left, right? maybe you and eunbi you could travel for the summer before you start your jobs.”

you ignore the swish of dread and anxiety in your stomach at the mention of next semester, instead choosing to smile softly and nod your head at the man.

“i think she’d love that,” you giggle out, knowing damn well your roommate already has an extensive list of cities she wants to visit before ‘real life begins.’

“and how do your parents feel about everything?” mrs. park asks, making your stomach twist with even more dread and discomfort. “are they proud?”

you wish you could fold in on yourself right now, swallowing the growing, nervous lump in your throat.

because not only is she making you incredibly uncomfortable right now, with her harsh looks and topic of conversation and snide little tone, she just mentioned the people you haven’t spoken to since you left home at eighteen.

you don’t know what to say, you have the slightest bit of concern you might throw up on her, when the loud, chipper voice of your roommate floats through the cold, silent house.

“i’m back!” her chipper voice yelps, sock-clad feet running through the house and sliding on the marble floor. “what’d you guys make?”

“you’re late, eunbi,” seonghwa mumbles warningly, an innocent smile on her face as she picks up her plate of food and plops down next to you.

“am i? or are you girls just early?”

“i’m not a girl.”

“it’s a figure of speech, father,” eunbi says, smiling playfully at her father before turning to you.

she’s able to tell the second she sees your face that you’re uncomfortable, the pink flush still lingering on your face and the tenseness of your shoulders making her frown.

“i’m sorry you were alone with them,” she whispers, genuine sorrow in her wide, mock-innocent eyes. “i got held up. or... down, rather, but i tried to leave on time. i promise.”

“uh huh, i bet,” you mumble back, fighting back a smile despite your discomfort.

because eunbi has always had something about her that made it impossible to stay mad at her, her carefree, unfiltered way of communicating that made being her friend so easy.

even if, sometimes, you wanted to kill her.

“so mom,” eunbi quips, turning her soft gaze to you before looking over her mother.

“what was with your little group of bitchy housewives today? you couldn’t have had them over any other day? what kind of christmas disgrace is that?”

“eunbi...” seonghwa chastises lowly, the girl with her brow already quirked and eyes narrowed.

“i can do whatever i want in my home, eunbi. are you forgetting how things work around here?”

“how could i, when i’m met with thirty middle-aged women with botox out the ass in my home the second i get back from school?” she asks, “you didn’t think me and y/n would wanna spend the break, like, resting?”

“you ran off to your boyfriend’s the second you got here,” mrs. park bites back, her glass of wine empty as she pinches the bridge of her nose. “left your friend all alone in your room. what did i tell you about leaving... guests unattended in the house?”

the accusation and direction of conversation is quickly making you feel uncomfortable, your head turned down in your lap and leaving your cheeks aflame.

she’s making it sound like you would steal something in her home for christ’s sake, like you’re not a guest who’s dreaded coming here due to this very reason.

you block out the back and forth between eunbi and her mom, a few more seconds of yappy feminine voices before a deeply spoken “enough,” echoes through the dining room.

you even look up at the sound, watching as mr. park’s eyes rest on you. his eyes narrow as he takes in the sight of your red cheeks, his gaze shifting from you to his daughter to his wife beside him.

“y/n’s here for a month and we’re gonna make her feel welcomed the entire time. if you two are gonna fight, don’t do it at the dinner table.”

“but dad, she totally-”

“maybe you should’ve taught your daughter-”

“no more,” seonghwa growls, a sense of finality in his tone that causes the room to go silent.

you can tell your friend is unbothered by the reprimanding, shoveling food into her mouth and sipping from her wine glass completely unbothered.

sometimes you wish you could be more like her, so unfazed by conflict or loud voices or the strained relationship with a parent.

eunbi was always open with you about the rocky relationship with her mother, saying more than once to you that if it weren’t for her father, she would’ve long cut off any contact with her.

she had never really been there for eunbi growing up, having nannies and chefs take care of her for most of her life - it was her nanny of fifteen years who taught her how to walk and talk, was there with her for all the milestones she met through infancy, childhood and even adolescence.

but even then, eunbi was nonchalant and carefree about it.

saying that she’s not gonna waste her time being upset over it when she knows her mom doesn’t think about her at all. it makes your heart hurt for eunbi, grateful that the girl at least has a good relationship with her father and boyfriend.

and you, of course. you consider her your best friend and you know she does the same - even if sometimes, you wanna pull her hair out.

“i’m gonna go the food store tomorrow, eunbi, so if you and y/n want anything, just text it to me.”

“oooh can we come!” she squeals, knocking her arm into yours like an excited kid in a candy store. “we wanna try making our cookies again.”

“you’re gonna bake?” the girl’s father asks, a look of doubt on his face that causes you to bite back a smile.

“no, we’re gonna bake,” she corrects with snark, “y/n measures the ingredients and stirs, i put it in the oven and watch.”

“right, silly me,” the man hums, a smirk pulling at his lips the more he sees his daughter get irritated. “but of course you girls can come,” he says, his eyes flicking to you for just a few seconds too long.

you can only look back with a small smile, a quiet “thank you,” leaving your mouth that you’re positive he doesn’t catch.

(he did).

you help clean your plate off before you and eunbi go up to her room later that night, once her door’s closed and she’s sitting down shooting her a look of disdain.

“i know you’re mad, okay, i’m sorry, i really am!” she whines, holding her arms out for you to come over. “i tried to leave but he wouldn’t let me. he just kept wanting to-”

“i don’t need the details you sick freak!” you yelp, going over and plopping down on her bed. “ugh, it was just... so awkward. your mom hates me. she was utterly perturbed that i didn’t switch my major to business.”

“ugh, she’s a crotchety bitch i swear,” eunbi says, falling onto her back and looking at you with sorrow in her eyes. “i’m sorry, i really am. i won’t leave you alone with her again, i promise.”

you quirk an unconvinced eyebrow her way, eyes full of doubt and distrust before she throws herself on you and squeals that, at least, now you can have a scary movie marathon without any interruptions.

it seems you also probably should’ve made her promise last night that you’d never be alone with her father either; it didn’t even occur to you at the time, not thinking that she’d really ditch you two days in a row.

but alas, jiwoon’s car pulled up when all three of you were walking out of the house to the g-wagon for the trip to the food store, her shooting you an apologetic look and whispered condolences in your ear.

“i’m technically not breaking my promise because my dad’s nice,” she mumbled, the feeling in your body more nervous and aroused than it is angry and upset.

but she could’t know that.

“and when i break your head? then what, eunbi?”

“i love you,” she giggles in your ear, the playful tone of your voice letting her know she got off the hook again. “it’ll be fine. my dad’s a good man. he wouldn’t ever talk shit to you the way my mom does.”

little does she know how much you want her dad to talk shit to you.

talk to you in a way that’s casual and playful and teasing, like the hints of it you’ve seen in the car or in eunbi’s room when you were alone last night. you just want him to look at you with the slightest bit of something, even though it’s wrong.

not only because of his wife, no matter how big a bitch she is, but because of-

“do you still wanna come with me?”

seonghwa’s voice pulls you away from your thoughts, looking to the man dressed in a long, black jacket and expensive loafers. he looks far too fancy and delectable for a trip to the grocery store.

eunbi is long gone by now, her giggles and carefree run down the driveway and into her boyfriend’s car leaving you and mr. park alone, with only the blue sky and crisp air as your witness.

him looking you over hopefully, with a twinge of teasing and longing in his gaze.

you looking at him full of nerves and excitement, biting down on your lip as you nod your head timidly.

“s-sure, if that’s okay,” you say, looking from him to his car just a few feet away. “it’d be better than sitting in eunbi’s room again.”

a handsome smile crosses his face as he nods his head, heart pounding and throat constricting as you watch him walk toward the car.

he walks around the front of a smaller, sleek suv, your own eyes watching in confusion until he opens the passenger side door.

you can only stare blankly, head cocked to the side as you really start to wonder if this man is about to make you drive his car costing more than your life.

“are you getting in, y/n?” he asks, an amused smile pulling at his lips - almost like he’s making fun of your nervous, intimidated disposition.

you shake your head of the confusion, cheeks flushing in the cold december air as you do an awkward jog toward the car. you dip in beside him as your body hits the cool leather, craning your neck to shoot him a small, grateful smile.

your faces are closer than you anticipated, breath catching in your throat as his gaze watches you closely.

he doesn’t say a word or move a muscle, taking a few moments for his eyes to roam your face and body before mumbling to buckle up.

you wish you knew how long the drive to the store would be, as it would slightly settle you and the thick, awkward tension in the air. it appears to be enough time for the heat to go on, warm air blowing from the vents before he asks if you want your seat heater on.

“oh, sure, thank you,” you mumble, a smile quirking on his lips as he presses down on the small circular button.

more silence lingers in the air as the trees outside you pass by, the bright winter sun and blue sky not making it feel like christmas is only a few days away.

you can’t remember the last time the holidays have actually felt like it, though, all the lonely days blending into one and feeling as if they were the same.

maybe this year, because you’re surrounded by eunbi and her family, it’ll feel less lonely. maybe you’ll actually enjoy yourself and find that you’ve missed out when you denied her invitation each and every-

“i’m sorry about my wife last night.”

those are words you don’t expect so they shock you even more, looking at the older man beside you with a wide-eyed, confused gaze. his dark eyes are expressionless and casual on the road, one hand on the wheel while the other rests beside him.

“i... what do you mean?” you ask, knowing damn well you understand his apology - and given the unamused look he throws you, he knows you’re full of shit too.

“i don’t think she means to judge you so harshly,” he begins, his deep, smooth voice full of sympathy and softness. “it’s not her place to question your education or major, so i just want to apologize for her.”

“that’s not necessary, mr. park,” you insist, shaking your head as a small, breathy chuckle leaves you. “and it’s not like i haven’t heard it before.”

because no one is ever too confident in any of the arts being your main source of income or profession; even your own parents, although it really wouldn’t matter what you would have chosen, haven’t been supportive.

and you especially haven’t missed the looks of pity or distaste when you tell people on campus or at parties in the frat house, future business leaders or stem majors looking at you like just said the sky is hot pink.

“well that’s just ridiculous,” seonghwa says, ripping you from your thoughts so you can roam over his strong, handsome face. “it’s a great field to work in and something you’re passionate about. that’s what matters most.”

he can tell by the way your cheeks flush that you’re slightly embarrassed and he can’t help but find it endearing, licking over his lips as his mind begins to wander.

wonder about what other parts of you could flush so easily or what else he could say to really make the pinkness deepen.

“i guess,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders as you look at the passing oak trees and mansions.

“and... what you said last night about traveling to build my portfolio,” you begin, shocked by the words continuing to leave your mouth. “that’s something i’ve thought about doing. i think it’d be really fun, regardless if i did wedding photographer or not.”

“yeah?” he asks, the smile on his face causing your head to jump. “i think that’d be good, too. where would you wanna go first?”

your lips purse to the side as you think it over, a love for traveling anywhere you could but having an especially strong pull toward the tropics.

“cancun or the maldives,” you answer, the financial aspect of the trip leaving it most likely impossible for you. “it’ll probably never happen, because i’d have to sell my first born, but i’ve always wanted to go somewhere like that. somewhere tropical and fun.”

seonghwa bites his tongue about his multiple trips there, instead letting out a chuckle that causes butterflies to erupt. his eyes are too drawn to your body in the front seat, legs crossed and arms over your lap politely.

“you never know,” he hums, ripping his gaze away before you catch his gawking. “you might get there one day, after being the best wedding photographer the city has to offer.”

“oh, please,” you glggle out, cheeks flushing despite the absurdity of the comment.

you catch the smile that creeps on his face, the same handsome, carefree smile you saw in the car last time.

you try not to let it get to you, let your brain convince you that maybe he likes hanging out with you alone as much as you like it too.

“i’m serious,” he says, the earnest tone of his voice slipping into dad mode in a way he doesn’t even realize. “your parents must be proud.”

you bite down on your lip as you let out a soft, almost scornful, chuckle, a quietly mumbled “yeah,” leaving your mouth that causes his eyebrows to pull together.

he always thought it was a little suspicious that in the four years eunbi has known you, she’s never told him about your parents; as far as he knows, she’s never even seen them.

“she has her scholarship and stuff so she doesn’t really need them,” his daughter said one day, the two of them discussing why you were spending yet another break alone in the apartment.

“but they don’t want her home for the holidays? you told her she was welcomed, right?”

“ugh, about a thousand times,” his daughter groans in the seat, throwing herself against the window dramatically. “i basically begged her, dad, but she said she didn’t wanna intrude. i’m telling you it’s because mom is the biggest fucking-”

“eunbi...”

“you know it’s true!” she squeals, seonghwa biting his tongue in an effort to be the bigger and better parent. “i don’t even know why you guys got married.”

but that’s what happens with teen pregnancies and rich families. how they were destined to marry anyway, due to their parents companies and stupid business politics.

it was one drunken night at his dad’s company party and a broken condom that sealed his fate with finality - made him go from a single, carefree high school student to a married businessman with a child just two short years later.

his wife was good at one point he likes to think, remembering she was gorgeous and sassy and not like the other girls who would drop to their knees for him.

but marriage and a child and just life quickly caught up with them, already trapped in a loveless, pointless marriage by the time he hit 25.

he’d be lying if he said he didn’t stay for eunbi, that they both didn’t stay for eunbi throughout her childhood and now just grew too used to being an unhappy married couple who live separate lives.

there was never any reason for them to divorce though, no one serious in his or his wife’s lives and the hassle of money and disputing houses and cars and assets far too draining.

“i don’t believe i’ve ever met them,” seonghwa says, pulling into the store parking lot to see it’s less crowded than he suspected it’d be. “what do they do?”

you couldn’t imagine anything more unbearable than disclosing to your friend’s hot dad who you may or may not have feelings for about the messed up relationship with your parents.

it just screams daddy issues, which might say a lot about your very attraction to him in the first place.

“they run a little restaurant back in my home town. it’s about three hours from campus, which is why i don’t really go home for breaks.”

seonghwa hums lowly, nodding his head as he looks at you at a stop sign.

you’re unnerved by the way his eyes roam you, like he can see signs of you being uncomfortable about your parents and wants to know why - but why would he care? you’re only his daughter’s roommate.

“do you miss seeing them?”

you lick over your lips nervously, watching as his eyes darken every so slightly.

he watches each and every of your movements carefully, so in tune with your reactions and breaths you can just feel yourself getting more and more worked up.

not in the slightest, you wanna say. i’ll probably never see them again and have no qualms about it, mr. park.

“i suppose,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders as you apprehensively meet his gaze.

“you suppose?” he asks, concern etched on his face. “when was the time you’ve seen them? since your freshmen year?”

you avert your gaze as your teeth sink into your bottom lip, in no way wanting to have this discussion at ten a.m. when, much to your pleasure, an impatient car behind beeps at seonghwa’s mercedes.

his dark eyes move to the rearview mirror, narrowed and irritated in a way you can’t help but think is sexy, before he puts his foot off the break and turns into the parking lot.

“i think this person’s leaving,” you mutter when you notice another car go in reverse, seonghwa snatching the spot before the impatient, crotchety lady behind him could steal it.

you can’t help but smirk as seonghwa eyes her when you get out of the car, giving him a look that’s half judgmental and half amused.

“what? she beeped at me.”

“aren’t you supposed to be, like, an adult?”

he rolls his eyes as he takes a cart from the pile, nodding his head for you to go in front and “stop talking back to an elder.”

you can’t help but smirk at his playfulness, taking your spot in the front and pretending as if you always move your hips this much when you walk casually; you would’ve felt embarrassed, had you not turned around a few moments later to see his eyes already on you.

“where to first, mr. park?”

he has to bite back the groan threatening to leave his mouth, reminding himself to keep himself in check this month - starting tomorrow.

“depends, y/n,” he hums, voice far too deep and sultry to be surrounded by innocent bystanders in the grocery store. “what do you want?”

words are caught in your throat and you can only stare dumbly, your plan quickly back firing as he appears to do the same - but it’s gotta be in your head, right?

regardless, it quickly humbles you in the form of a small, unsure shrug.

it’s how you two start walking up and down the aisles, seonghwa putting in what he remembers and items on his mental list while also insisting you put in anything you want.

your arms bump ever so often, softly apologizing and acknowledging it the first few times before you both realize it may be happening on purpose.

you stick close to him when the aisles get tight and crowded, his deep voice telling you to “go ahead,” causing you to swallow shakily. you feel the presence of his hand just a few inches from your hips, lingering and hovering but never fully touching.

it’s finally when you’re in the bread aisle, seonghwa a few feet away talking to the man at the bakery counter, that you decide to put something in the cart.

you would usually never accept someone’s offer to buy you something, already feeling bad about staying with them rent free and eating their meals without compensating.

but the brioche loaf brand is one of your favorites, only sold on occasion at the corner store near campus.

you press up on your tippy toes to grab the bag of bread, stretching your arm up with all your might. the plastic slips through your fingers just as you’re about to snatch it down, letting out an annoyed huff as you pulled down your sweater dress.

you mumble your annoyances before trying again, back on the tips of your toes with your arm raising when you feel a hand on the small of your back.

it’s large and warm and seeping through the thin material of your burgundy dress, a snappy protest about to leave your mouth when you catch mr. park’s face in your peripheral.

there’s a content look on his face as he takes the bag with ease, holding it above your head as his hand moves from your back to your waist with a gentle touch.

you look at him with wide eyes and a pounding heart, his hand on your waist so foreign and strange but... good. something you didn’t even realize you’d been craving until it happened.

the strength and warmth of his hand, though if you think about it just enough, you can feel the weight of his wedding band through the fabric.

“is this what you wanted?”

his voice is deep and low as he speaks to you and you alone, your eyes raising to see him staring down at you. you can’t make out the expression in them, just the darkness in his eyes and the frantic beating of your heart.

you can’t even being to understand the context of his words right now because, yes, this is exactly what you’ve wanted - but he doesn’t know that, right?

“w-what?”

he can’t help the smirk that crosses his face, all sorts of pride and satisfaction and arousal coursing through his veins at your current disposition.

“the bread,” he says, stepping back and holding it out to you. “is this the one you wanted?”

your eyes narrow as you look at him, the smirk on his face, the amusement in his gaze, the playfulness that’s radiating off him - is he fucking with you?

“oh... i... yes,” you finally say, coming to your senses and not allowing yourself to think this way anymore. “that’s the one. i hope it’s okay.”

“of course,” he hums, placing the bread in the cart before going back to the front handles. “you can get anything you want, i already told you that.”

you nod dumbly as you follow beside him, seonghwa picking more things off the shelves and muttering the list to himself as you try to get your shit together.

because yes, you’re attracted to him and yes, you’ve found yourself alone with him for more than two days in a row and yes, there’s been some lingering looks and touches but that doesn’t mean anything.

you can’t let your own deluded thoughts and desires get in the way of reality.

the reality that he’s your friend and roommate’s married father and you��re a college student. he doesn’t want you just as much as you shouldn’t want him so what’s the problem here?

maybe it’s that you’re a 22-year-old woman who’s only been on a handful of dates.

that the last time you made out with someone was when you were drunk and dared to kiss the first guy that walked through the bar (luckily, somewhat attractive and surprisingly polite).

that, maybe, you’re so horribly touch-starved and aching for affection, you’re trying to find it in a hot father figure who’s just as kind as he sexy - and that, you think, is the second most tragic thing here.

because the first would absolutely be thinking that any of this, any of these stares or touches or coincidences of eunbi leaving you two alone, means something.

means that maybe this break is for you two is create an attraction and build some sort of bond and-

“y/n.”

you’re barely able to register seonghwa’s voice before his arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling your body into his taller one and having you pressed up right against him.

you were so lost in thought of him that you didn’t see the older women skirting her cart around the aisle quickly, phone pressed to her ear as she yells to her husband about the christmas ham.

you’re not even sure if she shoots you a look of sorrow or utters any apology, too consumed and distracted by the feeling and proximity of mr. park.

his arm wrapped around you, your body pressed flush up against him, his neck craned down to look at you with a building... something in his eyes. playfulness and teasing but also something darker, something that makes your stomach swoop and renders you unable to move.

“are you always so clumsy and distracted?” he mumbles lowly, his deep voice quiet for only you two to hear - like he knows even in a sea of strangers, he has to keep these interactions quiet.

“what would you do if i wasn’t here to help you, y/n?”

i wouldn’t have been distracted in the first place, you’re tempted to say - but you certainly don’t wanna open that can of worms, especially not in the middle of this grocery store with the way your heart is pounding.

“i... i’m sorry, i was distracted,” you mutter, playing up the damsel in distress just a little bit. “my mistake, mr. park.”

he licks over his lips, swearing his name just being spoken has never effected him like this. he doesn’t even know where this attraction came from, seeing you leave the dorm building yesterday morning and something in his body jumping at the sight of you.

maybe it’s just showing how unhappy he really is with his life, living day to day to just work. hang out with his friends and go to sleep alone - he doesn’t remember the last time his wife touched him, looked at him like she wanted him or made any move to be with him.

he just knows that you showed up, looking so pretty and wide-eyed and coy, and is now about to lose his mind.

“it’s alright,” he says, hoping you don’t hear the thick tension he hears in his own voice, like he’s some idiotic, hormonal young boy. “i think we only have a few more aisles left, anyway.”

he plucks the remaining items off the shelves before you both make your way to the self check-out, him scanning and you bagging because “eunbi says if my career as a photographer fails, i could be the best grocery bagger ever.”

“that’s just because she puts the bread on the bottom,” seonghwa mutters, a smile on your face as you nod your head - she squished one too many of your brioche loafs before you realized bagging just wasn’t for her.

your fingers graze ever so often, the coldness of his tips a stark contrast to your warmer ones.

a particularly big, bulk bag of vegetables proves to be a challenge for you, working through the packed bag with some difficulty. you let out an annoyed groan as you play a dangerous game of tetris, trying not to rip open the brown paper bag.

you finally get the box inside, a little bit prouder than you care to admit, when your precious brioche loaf is dropped right atop. you look up at seonghwa to see him already apologizing, your brow raised as you look at the older man in confusion.

did he think your hand was out? why would he just throw the food at you?

but it’s only when you feel a little more air than normal on your chest that you see what could’ve possibly caused the distraction, the white lace from your bra sticking out.

your cleavage in this dress was hidden for the most part, only becoming a little more obvious when you moved around or packed a shitload of groceries. it makes you bite back a smirk as you put two and two together, looking up to see his eyes still lingering over you.

two can play at this game mr. park.

“mr. park,” you begin, feigning a certain kind of innocence as you place your bread atop the other groceries and finally look up at him. “are you always so clumsy?”

it takes a few seconds for a smile to pull at his lips, the tick in his jaw not going unnoticed to you - so maybe this wasn’t all in your head. maybe he wants you too... possibly.

“you’re funny, y/n,” he mumbles, a smile pulling at your lips as he takes out his black card. “i guess i was distracted, too.”

you swallow the lump in your throat as you feel the slightest hint of arousal run through you, shaking it off and letting out a forced, girlish chuckle.

you pack the car a few minutes later without any lingering eyes or touches, seonghwa telling you about the meals they plan on cooking for christmas.

they usually don’t make their own food for holidays but decided to have a more traditional set up for you and eunbi’s arrival - he also hasn’t cooked a meal for his family in god knows how long.

“that’ll be great, thank you,” you tell him, clicking your seatbelt in as he backs out the spot. “i’m kind of a picky eater but i’ll eat anything you guys provide me.”

“and you have the whole brioche loaf,” seonghwa says, a giggle leaving your mouth as you nod your head.

“true. it’s really good.”

“i’ve never tried, perhaps you’d be willing to-”

his wife’s name popping up on his car dashboard acts as a way to bring you back to reality, brings a certain kind of silence over the both of you for a few seconds.

like he wasn’t just rubbing his body against yours and you weren’t just flirting with him in the form of smirking lips and snarky comments.

you watch a twinge of annoyance behind seonghwa’s eyes, gaze roaming over the screen as if he’s in contemplation before muttering “one second.”

“hello?”

“where are you?” her voice snaps in annoyance, “i told you we had that board meeting at one.”

“and it’s only noon,” his deep voice mumbles, not matching her level of irritation but sounding a whole lot different than a few seconds ago. “me and y/n are coming back now.”

“y/n?” she spats, like it’s a disgusting piece of food she wouldn’t dare put in her mouth. “what about eunbi?”

“she went off with jiwoon before i could get her in the car.”

“so it was only you two?” she asks, the snide judgment and underlying tone in her voice causing your stomach to churn. “did she ask you to buy a bunch of-”

“i’ll be home in twenty and then be on my way over,” he says, cutting her off and hanging up before she can even get another word you.

your stomach churns and a sick feeling comes over you, her utter dislike and disdain for you causing you to bite your lip.

because not only does she not like you to be with her daughter, she doesn’t want you with her husband (although, you suppose, you can’t really blame her for that one).

“i’m sorry about that,” seonghwa winces, the silence lingering between you two heavy. “you could’ve gotten anything you wanted, y/n. this is your christmas too. don’t feel bad about anything, okay?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, your gaze moving to his as he stops at the red light.

your eyes lingering over his and his doing the very same, hand twitching to reach out and move the piece of hair from your slightly flushed face.

and there was something about the way you were both looking at each other, eyes so focused and unwavering and honest, that had you thinking maybe all of this wasn’t in your heads.

but it didn’t mean either of you could act on it - they were just... feelings of lust and wonder and all things forbidden, not seriously believing that a relationship like this could unfold right under the nose of his wife, his daughter and your roommate.

unless the pull was so desperate.

so overwhelming and all-consuming and present between the both of you, little moments couldn’t help but happen.

strike one:

with none other than eunbi as a distraction, the girl promising she wasn’t gonna leave you alone anymore, you were able to take your mind off everything.

the tension-filled, heart pounding moments with mr. park that felt just as wrong as they did right.

you spent a few nights going out with her, jiwoon and all of their high school friends, a surprisingly nice group of young adults who you got along well with.

they were loud and crazy and did far too many shots but they also seemed to be genuinely kind. even the boy who was flirting with you all night, handsome and tall with pretty dark eyes, acted as a good distraction.

grinding up against him as the music pounded throughout the bar, alcohol coursing through your veins allowing you to forget about the older man who’s been living in your head for almost a week now.

“how have i never met you before, y/n?” the boy mumbled lowly in your ear, your head against his shoulder carelessly.

but it was right there in that moment, him saying your name, that the moment was over.

because it just didn’t sound like seonghwa, as delusional as that was.

it didn’t get your heart racing or lips quirking the same way it did when you heard the older man say it. the smile attached to his handsome, mature face and the deep, lowly spoken tone that always held a hint of teasing and sincerity.

“but danny really is so freakin’ nice!” eunbi squeals to you on christmas eve, the two of you in her immaculately white and modern kitchen prepping the chocolate chip cookie cough for tomorrow.

“and you two seemed to be getting along, i saw your ass all up on him.”

“eunbi, that wasn’t me. that was the vodka. i don’t know who that girl was.”

she throws her head back as a loud chuckle leaves her, telling you again that she warned you her snobby, rich little friends have been able to handle their liquor since middle school.

it’s how they cope, she had said, unloved kids with more money than god learning to deal with the world of limitless funds and minimal parental supervision.

“well he hasn’t stopped asking me about you, you know,” she hums, her eyebrows quirked suggestively as she mixes the bowl of ingredients lazily.

“and not just because of your newfound grinding skills, which by the way, are usually learned by the tenth grade.”

your eyes narrow at her comment, throwing a small ball of dough at her that she, impressively, catches in her mouth.

“he really is just, like, so taken by you, y/n. seriously. i told him that you’re graduating this year with a degree in photography and he nearly came in his pants. he loves the artsy girls.”

“you are so vile,” you snort out, shaking your head at the girl sitting criss-crossed on the counter. “and stop saying that. we both know i’m not graduating this year,” you mumble, her face falling pathetically.

“i told you we’re gonna find a way,” she whines lowly, looking at you with all kinds of sympathy and sadness in her eyes - she would offer to pay for you, if she didn’t think you would smack her upside the head.

“oh and what? is my new boyfriend danny gonna do that for me?”

“in exchange for more grinding and a photoshoot, i think. do you want me to try?”

she lets out another giggle despite the way you pinch her leg, peeking inside the bowl with a surprising amount of pride.

"this looks good,” you mumble, swiping your finger to collect some of the chocolate dough.

“hey!” she whines brattily, thrusting a spoon toward your hand just a second too late.

“why are you whining in here like a child, eunbi?” seonghwa asks, walking through the entryway and the large, white island in the center. “what are you making? please don’t burn the house down.”

“haha dad, you’re so funny,” she mocks sarcastically, jumping down from the counter with her hands on her hips. “where are the baking sheets?”

a simple shrug from her father causes her to roll her eyes, grumbling about how she was really trying to avoid her bitch of a mother today. he holds back his smirk, about to reprimand her before she’s out the kitchen and shouting for her mother upstairs.

it’s only you and seonghwa in the kitchen now, a heavy silence in the air as you stand there dumbly - bowl beside you, cookie dough adorning the top of your finger.

“what are you girls making?” he finally asks, his body moving closer and closer causing you to swallow.

“i... uh, cookie dough. for tomorrow,” you say, lifting your finger and wiggling the tip full of batter. “chocolate chip.”

his eyes move to your finger before grazing over your mouth, his tongue peeking out ever so slightly as he reminds himself to act right.

he hasn’t been alone with you since that day at the food store, just seeing you in passing in the hallways or outside the house as you and eunbi went to and fro.

he hears your giggles at night and tired groans in the morning, quietly yelling at his daughter to wake up and get her ass out of bed.

and he knows it’s probably for the better, that you two don’t find yourselves alone with each other, but he can’t help but feel a rush of excitement right now.

you watch as he moves closer, with the same wide-eyed look you’ve been giving him since he first saw you in your apartment weeks ago.

“ahh, you’re making it from scratch? that’s ambitious.”

“yeah, we googled a recipe,” you tell him, finger still beside you in the air.

you don’t know what causes you to be so bold, maybe him attempting to carry out a normal conversation even though he’s looking at you with so much lust and desire, but you can’t stop once you start.

“how’s it taste?” he asks, his voice deep and slightly strained as he nods his head toward your finger.

you don’t even bat an eye as you slip the tip of your finger in your mouth slowly, swirling your tongue around as you take up all the dough on your skin.

it’s sweeter than you originally thought it’d be but it tastes good nonetheless, keeping your eyes on him as you reamin as innocent and unassuming as possible.

“it’s good,” you say, dropping your finger like you didn’t just make a show of licking and sucking it. “i like it better raw.”

you don’t even realize your words until you see the fleeting look on his face, tongue swiping across his lip and eyes hardening. they roam you so slowly and darkly, you can’t control the growing butterflies and swooping in your lower stomach.

“mm, me too,” he hums lowly, the hardening of his cock in his pants something he hasn’t felt in forever. it’s taking everything in him to control himself, from his eyes popping out of his head to letting out the deepest of growls in the back of his throat.

“do you want some?” you ask, cocking your head to the side questioningly.

he has to desperately hold on to his composure, not think about how easy it’d be to pin you against the cabinet right behind you. take just a few steps closer, have your back against the cold granite and let you feel just how much he wants some.

but he has to play it cool, push down these building desires and ignore your teasing because he’s almost fucking positive that’s what’s happening here.

“want some what?” he asks, his voice lowering just a tad.

he hasn’t played a game like this since college, watching as your eyes widen and brow quirks up.

but he sees that’s exactly what it is when you turn around and face the bowl of cookie dough to him, a smile just as sweet as the cookies on your face.

“cookie dough. before we put them in the oven and possibly burn them.”

the breathy chuckle he lets out leaves your stomach in shambles, his tongue peeking out and poking the inside of his cheek causing a swooping sensation to flood through you.

but before he can even think to say anything, before your eyes can look over his body and make you feel even more warm and bothered, eunbi floats back in and fiddles in the cabinets for the baking sheets.

“that woman is too much, i swear,” she grunts, whipping out the materials quickly before her head snaps to her father. “why are you still here?”

“i wanted some cookies. and to ensure y/n won’t allow you do burn down the kitchen.”

“it was one time, dad, and an accident. how many times do i have to defend myself in this house?”

you let out a giggle as you look from eunbi to seonghwa, your roommate turning her back to set up the practice baking session.

“let’s go bitch! i hope we didn’t fuck this up.”

seonghwa’s eyes roam over you for a few more moments, his tongue swiping across his lips before, finally, leaving the kitchen with his dick hard as a rock.

strike two:

christmas consisted of successful cookies per your and eunbi’s homemade batch, passive aggressive comments from mrs. park about your degree and a whole fuck ton of sexual energy between you and seonghwa.

you could almost always feel when his gaze was boring into you, when you got up to take more mashed potatoes or kept your attention on eunbi as she told her parents about what job she wants to start at next semester.

it’s also when eunbi almost let it slip about your scholarships, had you not viciously pinched her arm and caused a pained cry to leave her mouth - if you ever thought jiwoon was gonna verbally assault you, it was certainly in that moment.

“why did you pinch me so hard?” she whined later that night, jiwoon passed out on the couch after five too many homemade cookies. “look at my bruise.”

a genuine frown crosses your lips as you look at her arm, rubbing her skin gently as you mumble your soft spoken apologies.

“i’m sorry but i just... i didn’t want your mom to know that,” you say back just as whiney and pathetic. “she already thinks i’m an incompetent idiot. knowing i have to wait a whole year because i’m broke is just too embarrassing.”

it’s an admission that, while eunbi already suspected that, still makes her feel bad - it nearly makes her wanna cry, that you don’t feel welcomed and loved in her home because her mom has to be a judgmental bitch.

“y/n...”

“bi, it’s fine, oh, my god do not cry right now,” you grumble, flicking her in the head lightly.

“i just feel bad,” she cries lowly, moving hrself closer to you and away from her boyfried. “it’s not fair, y/n. you worked so hard and now you have to wait. how could they do this to you?”

a small, touched smile crosses your face at eunbi as you shake your head, dabbing at her watery eyes.

if jiwoon wakes up, he’s literally gonna beat my ass,” you say, smiling when a wet giggle leaves eunbi; you don’t want this time to be sad or upsetting. “i thought he was gonna hit me at dinner.”

“okay if he’s hitting anything, it’s gonna be my-”

“no. no, no, no.”

the snort that leaves her mouth doesn’t help the sinking feeling in her stomach, looking at you with a frown still adorning her face.

“i’m sorry if my mom’s making you feel uncomfortable. she does it to every single person ever and i don’t-”

“it’s fine, please stop apologizing for her,” you say, the sinking reminder in the back of your mind that seonghwa had been doing the very same thing - apologizing for that woman.

“i know she’s stressing you out, too. we’re in it together.”

“that’s true,” she sighs, letting out a long, dramatic groan before resting her head on your shoulder. “i’m so bloated, i don’t think i’m ever gonna be able to eat again.”

and it was funny that, days after the holiday, eunbi was still convinced that she was bloated from christmas dinner.

“babe, i don’t even think that’s possible,” jiwoon consoled her, you and him sitting in her room as she gets ready to go down to the pool.

because, naturally, like everyone in this godforsaken rich town, they get ready to go to the pool that’s inside of their homes; when eunbi told you to pack a bathing suit back at your apartment, you looked at her like she was insane.

until she clarified that her pool is heated and, conveniently, indoors.

“just through the backyard,” she had said - and she truly meant it.

just a few yards away from the main deck area, with floor to ceiling glass windows that showcase the extravagant landscaping and, of course, the outdoor pool and jacuzzi just a few feet away.

“eunbi, this is insane,” you say, marveling at the sight before you.

“don’t you wish you came sooner?” she asks with a wink, your eyes rolling as you place down your towel.

you had the option to bring two bathing suits - a skimpy black one you don’t remember being so scandalous or a red one you remember eunbi insisting you buy last summer.

and you just knew it was because danny was coming, currently showcasing his impressive eight pack that, truly, just doesn’t do it for you - maybe if he was twenty years older, apparently, and somebody’s father and husband.

you shake the thoughts out of your head, walking a few steps toward the pool before eunbi tackles you from behind. you both land with a loud splash, followed by the excited shouts and loud splashes of her other friends.

you’d be lying if you said you could remember the last time you had this much fun, splashing and giggling and acting so carefree despite the many challenges you’ll have to face soon.

but that’s not any of your concern right now, currently sitting atop danny’s shoulders and trying to knock down eunbi in a game of chicken.

“you little bitch! get your nails out of me!”

“coming from the girl who literally just tried to choke me two seconds ago!”

“like it’s your first time being choked!”

and you don’t know whether jiwoon was shocked by you saying that statement or the fact that his girlfriend exposes all of her sexual kinks to you but alas, it did the trick in sealing you a victory.

a smug smile on your face as danny jumps up and down in excitement, your body bouncing and nearly falling over him had you not gripped onto his shoulders.

it’s at that time eunbi pops up from the water, hair a soaking mess and mascara running down her face. she’s about to open her mouth, probably to yell at you, before a volleyball is thrown through the air and just misses her face.

instead, it hits danny square in the head. the boy letting out a yelp before you promptly fall backwards in the water, hearing eunbi’s shrill squeal and giggle on your way down.

you pop up and throw her a dirty look, danny rubbing at the back of his side before apologizing profusely.

“it’s okay,” you giggle out, about to say you shouldn’t have been up there for so long before eunbi’s squealing in the air.

“dad, what the hell kind of aim was that!”

you feel your body stiffen before you quickly shoot around, none another than mr. park standing there looking as handsome as ever.

he puts the young men around you to shame, good-looking, muscular college boys who anyone in their right mind would find attractive - but they just don’t beat him.

his striking eyes or tall, lean stature or the fact that he’s just so fucking-

“got worse with age, bi, what can i say?” he chuckles, extra white fluffy towels in his hold that he places on the chair. “sorry, danny.”

seonghwa’s known danny for a few years now, one of jiwoon’s friends who seems... alright. not a bad guy but also not a good guy - just kind of there; but it didn’t occur to the man just how much he was bothered by him until he saw you on his shoulders.

because he could’ve put you in danger, of course. put you in danger at his house where if things got bad, he’d be responsible; as for the ball, it merely slipped from his finger tips.

“no problem mr. park,” the kid smiles, the other friends gathering around and looking at him expectantly. “we’re gonna play a round of volleyball. you in?”

“no. no dads allowed,” eunbi whines, seonghwa rolling his eyes at his bratty adult daughter.

“why not? because i’m better than all of you, eunbi?”

“oh please,” she grumbles lowly, rolling her eyes and grabbing you to lead you toward the stairs. “you know what, we’re going in the hot tub anyway. since she decided to rock my shit in chicken. enjoy my father traitors,” eunbi grumbles to jiwoon and his friends.

“i did not,” you protest weakly, feeling two pairs of eyes on you as you make your way out of the pool with your friend.

the first thing that strikes seonghwa, apart from the major twitch in his pants, is how skimpy your bikini is.

red bottoms with thin straps holding it up, a matching red top showcasing cleavage and beauty marks on your chest and all the things that are proving to drive him fucking crazy upon seeing you every day.

it’s taking everything in him to control the growing ache in his shorts, your eyes looking at him so coyly and attentively that you’re ignoring the college boy gawking at you right in front of him.

there’s a certain sort of twisted pride in his chest, you giving him attention and seemingly reciprocating his interest, when there’s someone younger right there for you.

younger and unmarried and more suitable for you. someone you can actually be with where it wouldn’t be considered dirty or wrong or secretive; but maybe that’s why you’re both drawn to it in the first place.

that, and because you’re both really hot.

“he’s literally hot, y/n! why don’t you like him?” eunbi whines to you, the two of you sitting across from one another in the hot tub outside.

the december air is crisp but feels nice comapred to the steaming water you’re gratefully submerged in. anything to take you away from mr. park shirtless and wet in the pool right now.

“i do like him, bi,” you mutter, trying your best to convince her and now seem suspicious.

“okay, yeah, as a person but who cares about that!” she whines, flopping her hands dramatically in the water. “you don’t want him to rail you.”

“eunbi!” you squeak, splashing in her direction as a warm, embarrassed blush rises to your cheeks.

“i’m serious y/n. you’ve never been railed before and danny’s such a good option. he’s hot and he’s sweet and he’s so pathetically into you, it’s a little sick.”

you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, shooting her a look that screams can we please not talk about this because you don’t know how much i actually wanna be railed by your father so let’s stop this discussion.

but she only rolls her eyes, moving herself closer to you so she can tug at your arm annoyingly.

“is he just not your type?” she questions, her eyebrows pulling together in confusion for a few moments before utter shock crosses her face.

“wait, what is your type? it’s... men, right? have i been hooking you up with the wrong gender this whole time?” she asks in disbelief, “could we have been hooking up this whole time?”

you press your lips together so you don’t burst out laughing, dryly replying “yes, eunbi, i’m into men.”

but the more you think about it, the more you think maybe you don’t have a type.

“and i’ve... never really thought about it before, to be honest. i just know i’m not into like... frat guys or whatever.”

because any party you’d been to, any douchey college guy wearing a backwards hat or cut off shirt, you had never been more disinterested. you couldn’t ever picture yourself falling for someone like that, romantically or sexually.

the one time you remember thinking someone was hot was when you took film and lit with your 31-year-old professor.

“so older guys?” eunbi concludes after hearing that, a smirk on her face as she raises her eyebrows playfully. “we gotta scope out some golf courses or retirement homes?”

“please,” you scoff, a giggle leaving her mouth as she throws her head back gleefully.

“okay, really though, i’ll tell danny you’re not interested and to stop trying so hard if you’re really not interested.”

but maybe danny as a distraction will be good.

will make you see that, perhaps, someone single and your own age and not your best friend’s father will be good thing for you to explore.

so you shrug lightheartedly, the smirk on your face causing eunbi to let out a low “oooh shit.”

you look over at her and your smile only widens when she knocks your shoulder, saying that you’re looking to be a play girl and drain a rich, lovesick man of some christmas presents.

“yeah, right! why drain a rich man when i can drain my best friend,” you tease, looking around her yard and still in astonishment that this is really her life. “i mean, two pools? is that really necessary?”

“three actually. there’s one behind the guest house on the other side. a small one. very humble.”

“oh, a small one, okay. great.”

she lets out another giggle, the two of you talking over plans for new years eve.

you might go up to jiwoon’s parents house in the mountains for the weekend, spend the time drinking with the small group of friends you’ve come to genuinely like over these past few weeks.

“it’s only two hours away so it won’t be that bad either,” she says, getting up to shake the hot water off her arms. “i’ll be right back, i have to pee.”

you nod your head, grateful she didn’t piss in the pool and allowing yourself to sit there, eyes closed, body relaxed, in the silence.

you can hear the faint screams of the boys from the indoor pool area and the swish of the hot tub filter, peeking open your eyes when, suddenly, you think you hear a boom of thunder in the distance.

you watch the sky darkening and clouds coming in, signaling a storm is coming in soon and quick. a sigh leaves your mouth, enjoying your last few moments of peace before finally standing in the hot tub.

the crisp winter air blows and sends goosebumps up your arms, a shiver running through your body as you attempt to splash some hot water on your upper body.

you don’t know how you know someone’s watching you but you do, some sort of strange intuition within you looking up to see none other than mr. park standing a few feet away from the hot tub.

his dark hair is wet and hanging in his face, swimming trunks soaked and his exposed chest still dripping chlorine water.

you press your lips together as your eyes roam his chest, a hint of abs on his lean stomach that causes a small, strangled groan to leave your mouth - you will never understand how this man is pushing 40.

but the same way you’re looking at him, he’s looking at you.

water covering your body, currently hunched over trying to warm the rest of your body; but it’s when you stand he really starts to gawk, your figure standing full and tall and giving him a perfect view of your hardening nipples from the cold crisp air.

you can see the lust in his eyes the same way you know he can and you’re about to do something to just make him crack. mistakingly untie your bottoms, catching them at the last second so he thinks he’s about to get a peak.

or undo the back of your top and pout at him, ask him to please tie it back for you because it’s way too hard to reach behind and do it yourself.

or maybe you’ll just drop to your knees right there, try to see if there’s any hint of a bulge in his swimming trunk bottoms and-

his body is gone just as fast as he arrived, confusion covering your face before you shake your head of your perverted thoughts - dropping to your knees when his daughter and wife are right here, what the fuck is wrong with you today?

you blame eunbi, all her talk about getting railed when you’ve been wanting to jump her father’s bones.

you carefully make your way out of the hot tub, not wanting to eat shit and scarp your leg on the concrete.

it feels like you’re about to freeze in the cold, another shiver wracking your body before you turn to stick your cold, goosebump-ridden arms back in the hot tub. it warms you for just a few seconds, a low, satisfied hum leaving your mouth before you hear footsteps coming up from behind you.

something in you tells you it’s him again.

whether it be the way your body heats up and feels prickly, the obvious feeling of eyes burning into your exposed back causing you to remain still and oblivious.

but you can longer remain oblivious a few seconds later, when a tall body is just a few inches away from completely pressing against you.

“you forgot a towel,” is all he says, placing it on the wet rim of the hot tub.

when he leans forward to place the white towel down, he’s careful and meticulous with his movements. brushing up against you every so slightly and carefully that you can feel his hard bulge on your ass for a few seconds too long.

at first you think you’re crazy, feeling what you were trying to envision in your head, but then you absolutely know it there’s.

you can feel the wetness from his bathing suit on your legs, his cock right there resting on the thin, red fabric of your bikini bottoms and if you were as weak as you felt inside, if he stayed there just a little bit longer, a moan would’ve absolutely left your mouth.

if you pushed back just a little to feel more of his cock on you, grind your ass his hardness just enough to hear him let out a low groan or maybe curse a little.

but he moves away, almost like he knew the perfect amount of time before that happened and almost like he did it by accident - but when you turn around and see the look in his eyes, you know it wasn’t.

the same way he can see a palpable desire and surprise and tension in your gaze, causing him to suppress a growing smirk. it makes you wanna tease him back in whatever way you can but you know that eunbi’s due back from the bathroom at any moment.

so you only cock your head to the side, lick over your lower lip carefully as you grasp the towel in your hands gently.

“thank you, mr. park,” you say, your voice as airy and sweet as you can possibly make it without sounding like an idiot.

“you’re welcome, y/n,” he says, taking a few steps back as his eyes lock on you. he stays there for a few moments until he hears the door to the pool house open.

you watch his lustful, dark expression change right then and there, a towel wrapping around his lower body and his face stretching into a happy, father-approved look.

“so you’re good with anything for dinner, y/n?” he asks, his voice loud and clear enough for his approaching daughter to hear. “i know you mentioned you were picky.”

“let’s get pizza!” eunbi screeches through the air, telling seonghwa that everyone’s staying over and they’ll need at least four boxes.

but you can’t even think about pizza right now, not when this moment right here is solidifying the crazy thought in your head that your best friend’s dad wants you just as much as you want him.

you called him out later that night around one a.m., after eunbi and jiwoon were the last to pass out to your scary movie marathon.

the others were sprawled out on the basement floor, an intricate array of blankets and pillows on the floor that you attempted to weave through, both, skillfully and quietly.

there was a dryness in your throat that could only be settled by a cold glass of water, making your way through the house quietly and praying you don’t run into mrs. park.

she’s been just as passive aggressive as she usually is in front of people so you could never imagine being alone with her. wondering what the hell she’d say to you without seonghwa and eunbi as buffers.

you were relieved when the lights were off in the kitchen, padding your way to the fridge to take out a bottle of water. you twist and turn the cap off to gulp down the cold liquid in the refrigerator light, a quiet gasp leaving you as your thirst is quenched.

you briefly consider going up to eunbi’s room to sleep tonight, not sure how you feel about being squished in with eunbi and jiwoon cuddling on the couch, when the light suddenly flicks off.

it causes you to freeze and halt all thoughts, fear running through you for all three seconds before you see seonghwa’s tall, familiar figure pass you. you watch him carefully in the dim light of the fridge, his shirtless chest yet again right in front of your face.

leaned back against the counter across from you, giving you a perfect view of his toned chest and gray sweatpants.

“midnight snack?” he asks, the smirk on his face almost causing you to roll your eyes.

instead, your lips quirk into a small smile. raising your water bottle by your head and shaking it, the water swishing in your pounding ears.

“just water,” you respond quietly, matching his low tone. “i hope that’s okay.”

“that you took water? of course, y/n,” he says, amusement in his gaze as he looks you over.

you’re freshly showered and in a pair of pajamas, matching pink sets that eunbi got you for christmas one year - he remembers because he was with her when she bought it.

a soft smile crosses your face, your back getting cold from the open fridge but not daring to move a muscle. not with him looking at you the way he is and with his body just a few feet away from you.

a silence lingers in the kitchen, you not sure why he’s looking at you and him waiting to see if you say something, before he bites the inside of his cheek.

“i wanted to say sorry about before.”

your eyebrow quirks up, interest so clearly peaked as you cock your head to the side.

“what do you mean?”

a smirk crosses his face as he watches you play dumb, head cocked and eyes wide and everything about you with such mock innocence, he thinks that’s what’s driving him the most crazy.

that you do this shit and say certain things with almost complete unawareness and innocence, if it weren’t for the hidden look of desire and teasing in your eyes.

“you know,” is all he says, his voice dipping and eyes twinging darker, it makes your lower stomach swoop.

a part of is positive, even if you ask, he’s not gonna say it aloud.

he’s not gonna say or acknowledge any of this aloud and make you guys play this game until you leave in a few weeks.

and then when you leave, unsure about your next prospects of college or education or even living arrangements, who knows if you’re ever gonna see him again.

so you only hum lowly, closing the fridge behind you and leaving you both in darkness. the only source of light is from the moon outside, lighting up half the kitchen from the large bay window.

it leaves you both incredibly exposed, anyone from the outside able to see the two seemingly innocent bodies standing toe to toe with each other; but they don’t see the lustful looks and eyes full of desire, both of you so entrapped by the other, it’s obvious with the tension in the air.

“oh, well, then... it’s okay, mr. park,” you say with a smile, taking a step back as your eyes roam his chest one last time. “i didn’t mind.”

you’re about to say goodnight when you see his arm reach out, shocked but oh, so ready ready to give into your desire and feel your body crash against his or your lips connect finally.

moan into his mouth and feel more of his hardness against you - but he only takes the water from your hand, presses his mouth against the plastic rim and swigs down a big gulp.

you watch with wide eyes as his adam’s apple bobs in the moonlight, head tipped back and body perched calmly on the counter as he takes a swig of your water bottle, spit exchanged and his mouth right where yours was.

he pulls back with an unreadable expression, licking the excess water from his lips before simply closing the cap, holding out the bottle and smiling at you with the most wise-ass smirk you’ve ever seen, you’re not sure how you’re ever gonna one up this man.

"sweet dreams, y/n.”

strike 3:

your new years weekend get away turned into an extended stay that consisted of sleeping on a lumpy air mattress, five extra guests and so much alcohol, you’re positive you’re still hungover three days later.

“it wasn’t that... we only did a... i mean it wasn’t like we were....” eunbi says, the two of you laying on her bed nursing headaches and body aches to the severest degree.

“okay, it was pretty bad. we were kind of rowdy and out of control.”

“you don’t say?” you grumble, never one to black out and get that shit faced and then doing it nearly every night - maybe to deal with danny’s pathetic soft looks or whispered sweet nothings to you.

“nothing is working either. not advil or water or greasy food. we might’ve fucked ourselves for life, bi.”

but if there’s one thing that always helped for eunbi, it was a nice, long bath. steaming hot water that burned her skin and the prettiest bath bombs to make the entire bathroom smell of strawberries and cream.

so even though you didn’t want to, nothing more comfortable than eunbi’s king size bed and warm, fluffy comforter, you allowed the girl to drag you to the bathroom down the hall to set up ‘your last resort, hangover paradise.’

it consisted of every type of bath bomb and lotion and bubble bath the luxurious could dream of, sending her out immediately when you saw her sneaking in with a glass of champagne.

“are you crazy?” you ask, dipping your toe in the water to test the temperature. “that’s what started this disaster.”

“fine, more for me!” she squeals happily, turning down the lights and pressing the bluetooth button for your phone’s music. “enjoy. i’ll see you in an hour, completely hangover free.”

“we’ll see about that,” you grumble, your words falling on deaf ears as she locks and closes the door to makes her way back to her ensuite.

and as much as you wanna give eunbi shit for her pompous tactics and techniques for everything in life, you have to say that this is certainly helping.

soaking in the steaming hot water, with cucumbers on your eyes and quiet music playing through the ceiling speakers. the jets in the tub also added another layer of relaxation to it, healing your sore muscles from days of waking up on a hard, wooden floor.

the mirrors were steamed and the room was boiling by the time you got out, stepping on the fuzzy bath mat and drying yourself off with a towel. you had tried not to get your hair wet but it proved useless, your relaxed body sinking further and further down until nearly your whole head was wet.

you stretch your arms above your head as you let out a content groan, feeling the best you’ve felt in three days and ready to take a nap.

but it’s at that moment, looking around the large steaming bathroom, that you realized you didn’t bring a change of clothes in. meaning you’ll know have to walk done the hall and into eunbi’s room in just a towel.

it’s fairly late, almost 11:30, so you’re hoping that her parents are in their rooms and fast asleep by now.

you peak your head out, feeling like a spy in a cheesy action movie as you look up and down the hall. you turn off the light once the coast is clear, walking quietly but quickly down to eunbi’s room - or wing, as it could be considered

you’re almost out of the gate, just a few more steps until you round the corner down eunbi’s hallway, when seonghwa’s tall figure is coming right up the stairs.

his head is down as he looks at his phone, still in his dress shirt and tie from his long day at work. you noticed that after the holidays, he’s been around the house less - working from home when he can but also needing to go into the office more often than not.

he’s at the top of the stairs when he finally notices your figure watching him, wrapped in a towel with a flush on your cheeks and your wet hair dripping on the floor.

it seems to be the thing to break him right now, not able to tear his eyes away or think of any fun, flirty comments to keep you from suppressing the need to roll your eyes.

because his days have been long and stressful and the only thing he needs right now is to just get off - and then there you are like something his prayers have answered, standing there quiet and awestruck at the sight of his loose tie and messy black hair he’s been running his hands through all day.

“h-hi, mr. park,” your quiet voice says, sweet and soft-spoken and utterly apologetic, like you’re embarrassed to be caught in just your towel - and he supposes that would make sense, to feel embarrassed about getting caught like this your friend’s father.

but he can’t find it in himself to care right now, two seconds away from dragging you down to his office so he can finally fuck you over his desk - but he knows that would be the worst decision in the world, for countless reasons.

“hi, y/n,” he grumbles back just as low, leant against the railing with a voice that sounds defeated and gruff.

“are you okay?” you ask, something about his voice and demeanor off.

he has to hold back a strangled laugh, his lips quirking up before he bites down on his lip.

“i’m... i’m fine, thanks. work’s just busy,” he says, a certain part of his chest warming at the fact you even asked - he knows his wife won’t when he walks in their bedroom in a few minutes.

“oh, okay,” you respond, twirling with the end of your towel nervously. “well... i’m sorry to hear that.”

he allows himself to let out a chuckle this time, shaking his head as he looks over your bare, wet face; you’re too pretty for your own good, he’s not even sure you realize just how pretty you are.

just how much he really wants you and just how much he’s coming to like seeing you in his house everyday.

“it’s alright, that’s why you gotta do something you love, right?” he quips, his long fingers up to recreate a camera, pressing down as if to snap a photo.

it cause you to let out a soft, genuine giggle, nodding your head and easing the slight embarrassment of him catching you in a towel.

“right,” you say with a smile, shy smiles and gazes shared until you finally look away in fear of your cheeks warming again.

but it doesn’t stop him from admiring the view of you, your bare face and exposed chest before the towel covers up all the parts he wants to so desperately explore.

he pictures dropping your towel and hearing it fall to the floor with a plop, take in the sight of your perky boobs and hard nipples in the air.

drop his mouth just a little bit to your neck, pressing small kisses against your skin as his fingers knead your nipples, all the quiet moans and breaths to make sure you two don’t get caught shooting right to his cock.

he probably wouldn’t be able to control himself, sliding a finger into you right then and there in the middle of the hallway, pressing your back against the wall to have you trapped against his larger body.

he’d pump his finger in and out of you slowly and tauntingly, hearing how wet you are and feeling how tight you are. it’d be similiar to how this past month has just been both of you taunting and teasing and beating around the bush, occasionally letting his fingers curl to his your g-spot or graze your sensitive clit.

and then he’d drop to his knees to taste you. make sure he sucks and licks and takes your clit in his warm mouth that you’re-

“i should get back to eunbi,” you finally say, breaking the silence and ripping him from his dirty, hidden fantasies. you can’t take the lust and desire in his eyes that you see when he looks at you, an painful ache building between your legs more and more.

“goodnight, mr. park.”

you nearly run into eunbi’s room and slam the door had you not seen her sleeping form, passed out right there in the middle of her bed wearing a baby pink robe.

you look beside her to see an extra one laid out, a silky lilac one that causes a small smile to cross your face.

you’ve never felt material like this on your skin, basking in the feeling of the smooth, silky material as you clean up her room quietly - both to tidy up and distract you from the ache in your legs and last encounter with her father.

for eunbi growing up with housekeepers and nannies her whole life, it always surprised you how clean and tidy your roommate was; the sink was never full of dishes and you alternated vacuuming the living room carpet.

but it’s obvious all of that is a facade because since the moment she got home, her messy ways have shown through - you find it endearing, though, and it’s all very eunbi: a homey, lived in mess of luxurious items and articles of clothing worth more than your childhood home.

the girl in question had moved to the right side in her sleep as you cleaned, a quiet chuckle leaving your mouth. you look to see both your water bottles are empty, deciding on the brave decision to go downstairs to grab two new ones.

the last time you’d done that, you thought for sure mr. park was gonna jump your bones - and you know you were gonna let him.

your mind is littered with memories of that night as you make your way through the dark house of twists and turns, carefully going down the stairs as you walk toward the kitchen.

there’s a room with beautiful double doors on your left, a room you’ve walked past hundreds of times throughout your stay here. eunbi told you it was her dad’s first floor office, where he usually worked and had his meetings from home.

the first thing you notice from down the hall is that the door is slightly cracked open, a peak in from the dimly lit kitchen showcasing some fancy decor of a globe.

as you make your way closer and closer, your ears are met with a quiet, strangled groan that causes you to stop in your tracks; your mind begins to race with a million different scenarios of what you could be walking past right now.

your first thought is that you’re about to see mr. and mrs. park in a very compromising position over his desk - and, as sick as it sounds, as delusional and crazy and absurd as it sounds, that prospect makes your stomach sink and twist painfully.

but that would be normal, you suppose; they’re a fucking married couple after all and seonghwa had seemed stressed from work. obviously he was gonna ask his wife to help calm him down and relax him.

get all of his stress out in the form of-

you shake your head before you can even think about it, forcing your feet to move past the office doors.

and it’s like you can’t even stop yourself from peeking in, confirming to see if your thoughts are correct and you’re about to be gutted, when you take in the sight before you.

seonghwa still in his loose tie and white dress shirt, pants around his ankles and his head thrown back in his office chair as his own hand jerks his cock off.

everything about it is dirty and wrong and you know you shouldn’t be looking in but you can’t stop.

you can’t stop watching the way his hand works around his cock expertly, long and thick and so fucking nice it nearly makes you drool. the thought of you on your knees before him, taking him in your mouth and licking and sucking around the tip, making you bite back a moan.

you can’t stop your eyes from looking at his face, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut with his neck on display - perfect for you to bite and give hickies, if you were on top straddling him.

you can’t stop the painful ache and wetness seeping in your thong as you watch him get off, his groans and grunts and heavy breaths making you wanna whine out in arousal.

and it’s that suppression right there, getting so worked up and horny over the sight of your peeping tina activities, that cause you to pull yourself away.

because as much as you don’t want to and as much as you wanna help him, you can’t.

you can only scramble into the kitchen and get water as fast and quiet as humanly possible, scurrying past the office and up the stairs with the stealthiness of a lion.

you can only lay in bed with the thoughts of your roommate’s father and the noises he makes, the sight of his cock and the hand movements replaying over and over in your mind.

and you realize that night, with only a few more days until you both have to leave for the spring semester, you can only hope to never see mr. park again.

let this flirtation and fascination and utterly screwed up infatuation with your roommate’s dad be nothing but a dirty memory you’ll keep to yourself for the rest of your life.

because if it’s not, if you have to see him again and have him in your daily life again, you won’t be able to hold yourself back.

your lust will turn deeper and you’ll find yourself in a much bigger issue than damp underwear and secret, forbidden moments with mr. park seonghwa.

you should’ve known with only two days left of your stay that eunbi was gonna let the news slip.

you were at least grateful for the fact that mrs. park had a charity ball with her clan of “botox getting, bitchy sounding gold diggers who need to desperately get laid,” successfully riding her of your last friday night dinner.

“so you girls don’t want a new apartment then?” seonghwa asked, glass of wine in his hand as he looks at the two of you questioningly. “that building’s looking for a new owner, eunbi, i think it’d be perfect for you both.”

“dad don’t be ridiculous, we can’t own the building!” eunbi says, swatting her dad playfully as she shovels a piece of food in her mouth. she’s casual and comfortable without her mom’s prying eyes and biting tone, her foot resting on the white fabric beneath her.

“and besides, i might be alone in there soon. we still don’t know if y/n is gonna be starting her-”

you kick the girl under the table roughly, her face pulling into a wince as a cry leaves her mouth.

“ow, y/n! what the he-”

but it’s upon seeing your white face and annoyed expression that she realizes what she said, her mouth falling open and silent as she looks at you apologetically.

“oh shit...”

you can only shoot her a pained, sarcastic smile, daringly looking at seonghwa who’s watching the two of you with a curious expression.

“what do you mean?”

silence hangs in the air, you and eunbi sharing side eyes and dejected looks with her dad before he cocks an eyebrow at the both of you.

“girls... what do you mean?” he asks, his voice deeper and more serious, taking on a dad-like tone eunbi isn’t used to hearing from her relaxed, playful father.

and that’s when, before eunbi can open her big mouth any further, you calmly and regretfully explain the situation with your scholarship.

how you got an e-mail a few months ago about alternate funding for the art department and that you were one of the many students who, while keeping up your end of requirements, could not be awarded money.

“it’s awful that they can do that,” seonghwa says, his eyes full of the same sympathy and outrage eunbi’s held - except he knows that this happens all the time. that it’s unfair and sick and a big ploy in the education system that needs incredible reform.

especially when it hurts students like you.

“yeah but it is what it is,” you say, trying your hardest to steer the conversation to literally anything but this (in fear that you’ll scream or start crying or have yet another anxiety attack).

“i can just finish up in the fall, it’s no big deal,” you lie through our teeth, a sad smile on your face as you look at eunbi. “i’m just sorry it messes up our combined graduation party.”

a frown crosses eunbi’s face as she smacks you in the arm, pulling you closer to her just so she could cuddle herself into your arm.

“i will wait for you,” she proclaims dramatically, a pout on her lips and starry-eyed look in her gaze. “i will wait as long as i have to. if they delay it any further, father, you will simply have to sue the school.”

“father, huh?” seonghwa hums lowly, his lips quirking into a smirk.

father is the term eunbi uses when she wants to use him and his money, whether it be blackmailing unfair teachers or shitty students or calling for him when her and her mom are fighting.

“yes, father,” she says, looking to you with a sweet, apologetic smile on her face.

“i’m serious, y/n. we got your back,” she quips with a wink, a pained smile on your face that she knows means you can’t wait to let her have it when you two are alone.

“you had one job, eunbi, and you were doing so good,” you say in her room later that night, pacing back and forth as she sits on her bed like a scolded child. “literally two nights left and you let it slip out!”

“i’m sorry, okay!” she whines for the ninth time, a pout on her face as she plays with fingers; you wanna roll your eyes seeing it, knowing for a fact that’s something she does when she’s in trouble with jiwoon.

“i didn’t mean to, it just slipped out!” she begins to defend, “and it was only my dad! he wouldn’t dare say a bad word about you, y/n, he loves you.”

you ignore the twinge in your chest when you hear her say those words, feeling a tad guilty at the bodily reaction you have about her own father. how much you’re hiding from her and that you have these suppressed feelings and secret moments in the first place.

“loves me or not, bad word or not, it’s still embarrassing, eunbi,” you say, a frown on your lips as you start to hear the situation aloud.

“i still can’t pay for my tuition and have to wait almost a whole year to take a degree in fucking photography. like how embarrassing is that, all of this just for me never find a job and live in a box.”

you’ve only seen a flash of anger on eunbi’s face a few times in your life, the incident with the dorm girls and her dad and when a sorority girl tried to kiss jiwoon at the bar.

and you see it right now, her small but mighty frame jumping off the bed and lunging toward you quickly.

“are you kidding me!” she squeals, smacking you in the arm and pushing you down on the bed.

“what the hell do you mean a degree in fucking photography? or living in a box? you’re gonna be the best photographer in the world and shoot every event in my life and charge me quadruple the amount!”

a smile pulls at your lips as you hear her go on and on, hype you up and build up your confidence and tell you to never talk that way about yourself again. how there’s nothing embarrassing about not being able to afford thousands of dollars when you were alerted about the expense on such short notice.

“okay, okay, i know that,” you eventually give in, letting out a sigh as you flop down on her bed. “it’s just.... stressful. i can’t move back home but i also need to get like, a real job. a job that’s gonna pay well so i can save up as much as possible.”

“and we’ll find you that when we get back,” she says, assuring with a confident look in her eye and her hands in yours. “i can promise you, with or without my father’s connections, we’re getting you a job.”

her words prove to reassure you for the remainder of the night, when, after she kisses your ass a little more, asks if she can go to jiwoon’s for a little.

you spent that time in her room looking at nearby job offerings and building up your resume and cover letters, working well into the night hours with a text from jiwoon that she fell asleep and will be back in the morning.

you stretch your arms above your head with a quiet groan, noting it’s almost one o’clock and you’re fucking parched yet again.

it’s no surprise to you when the lights in the kitchen are on, dimly light and no noise around as you pad your way to the fridge.

you almost expect the footsteps that come in a few moments later, when you take a sip from your water and close the fridge without hesitation.

“have you told your parents about tuition?”

you’re confused by the statement that leaves seonghwa’s mouth, brows pulled together and a sinking feeling in your stomach at this conversation again - because as if tuition wasn’t enough, he just had to bring up your parents.

but you don’t wanna beat around the bush any longer; you two seem to do that enough.

“me and my parents don’t talk,” you say, straight forward and quiet as you look right at him.

it’s the first time he sees you look a little broken and defeated, a certain kind of sadness shining behind your eyes that makes him wanna pull him into you. it feels like a protective instinct he’s used to, caring for the people in his life and not wanting to see them struggle.

“they wouldn’t help me anyway.”

this protective instinct feels a little different in this moment, something else tugging in his chest that he hasn’t felt in a very long time - not until he started seeing you more.

“but it’d be a shame if you didn’t finish, y/n. you got so far and you’ve done so well for yourself.”

you smile a little at the praise, tongue rolling over your lips in a way he certainly doesn’t miss - but this moment isn’t about that. it’s not something he cares even a little bit about right now.

“thank you, mr. park, but i am gonna finish,” you say with finality, the confident and sure tone making a strange sort of pride swell inside of him.

“i just have to save up money and i’ll start in the fall. it’s really not that big of a deal,” you tell him with a smile, taking a few steps back so you don’t feel too crowded by him.

“eunbi’s gonna help me look for jobs when i get back,” you say, a teasing smile pulling at your lips as you look at him. “a big girl job. something real and hard, that’s gonna make me super stressed and agitated.”

so much so that i have to get off at the thought of you.

a deep chuckle bubbles out of him that you match with ease, the two of you sharing small smiles and quiet giggles in the middle of this spotless, white kitchen.

“can’t do what you love quite yet, i guess,” seonghwa says, his eyes roaming your face so slowly and carefully, it makes you a tad bit nervous.

you hadn’t realized how natural and easy this conversation was between you two, like you were talking to someone you’d known your whole life opposed to someone you’ve barely known for four years.

his hand itches to reach up and touch your hair, tuck the soft, silky looking strand behind your ear and watch your cheeks heat up when your skin touches; but instead, he smiles down at you, inching closer until he’s just looming over you and staring down at you with a soft, undetectable look in his eye.

“but it’ll be worth it in the end, i think. it’s just gonna... take some time.”

you lick over our lips, throat and mouth suddenly so incredibly dry, as you nod your head.

“yeah, i think so, too,” you say, your lips smushing together nervously before you open your mouth to speak again - this could be one of the last times you’re alone with him.

“thank you for letting me stay with you guys, mr. park. it’s been... really nice spending time with people for the holidays.”

he feels his heart twinge in his chest again, his eyes falling down to your lips and swearing he’s never wanted to kiss someone so bad in his life.

“of course, y/n, it’s been a pleasure,” he says, a smile quirking at his lips with a hint of something you just can’t quite make out. “maybe we’ll see each other again soon.”

it was five days before classes started that you got the confirmation e-mail - a message confirming your tuition for the spring semester was paid in full and your current balance was $0.

you had to look over the message for three whole hours making sure you had read the e-mail correctly, even going as far to call the bursar office to make sure they had the correct address.

but they had confirmed with surety that your balance was paid off, urging you to quickly sign up for the classes you need before the day was over.

“okay, you will never believe what interview i was able to score for you,” eunbi says the moment she walks in the apartment, shopping bags up her arm and gucci sunglasses perched atop her head.

“i’ll admit, the vibe was a little off with the coworkers but i think it’d be a great opportunity to-” her eyes catch your laptop screen on the school website, a list of classes and times on your screen that causes her eyes to widen.

“oh?” she squeals, running over and throwing herself down on the couch beside you. “what the heck are you doing? are you... did you...?”

the lie came way too quick and easy to you, excitedly blabbering out that there was a change in the system and your scholarship was approved - “i think they felt bad that i was a graduating senior,” you said, eunbi’s face pulled into the happiest smile you’ve ever seen.

she clapped and danced and bounced around in excitement, proclaiming you guys just had to go out and get drinks to celebrate the fact that your surprise party was back on.

but you could only sit there with your thoughts and suspicions and this overwhelming feeling deep within your stomach that, while eunbi definitely doesn’t know, her father might’ve just paid your college tuition in full.

(part 2)

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#alright here we go again #shes up fr now jfdkvkd #seonghwa #seonghwa angst #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa smut #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez smut #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa imagines #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #seonghwa series #ateez series

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bakugohoex · 3 years

Text

sleeping beside his s/o

pairing: armin arlert x gender neutral reader; eren yeager x gender neutral reader; erwin smith x gender neutral reader; jean kirschtein x gender neutral reader; levi ackerman x gender neutral reader; reiner braun x gender neutral reader

cw: tooth rotting fluff

word count: 1000+

a/n: quick headcanons because I won’t be posting long oneshots for a bit

summary: in which you have a sleeping position with your boyfriend

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

armin arlert

His arm stayed around your waist, your head on his shoulder as you snuggled up into his body. Your leg always seemed to find his waist as you slept on him most the time. He couldn’t lie but you being this close to him was always the best part of his sleep, the low hums of an unknown song to help you sleep with you close by him. The smell of your fresh shampoo engulphing his nose, the way that even if the bed had plenty of room you’d still find yourself clinging onto his side. Waking up beside you with a “good mornin’ darling” and skimmed kisses against your face, each time holding your face to have a look at what was hidden. On the rare occasions you wake up before he does you pretend to be asleep just to feel his kisses, he’ll know that you’re pretending each time and will still give you your well-deserved kisses.

eren yeager

His grip tightened against your waist as he kept a hold of your side, his head in the crook of your neck, smelling the perfume you had put on in the morning. It's his favourite smell, a mix of perfume, the environment you had been in. Unique to him a smell that he loved to nuzzle up into every night, something that he would never miss at all. You both love skin to skin contact, almost always finding your bare back against his bare chest, it was a sign of intimacy that he loved to feel. He always kisses your neck before you sleep, and on the occasions where you both cant sleep his fingers trail against your back. Drawings stars and scenes across your perfect back, he could envision it and that’s all that mattered. When you both finally wake up from long nights of having 3am talks, he will never not say “morning baby” before giving you a sloppy tired kiss anywhere near your mouth. He has on many occasions missed your mouth and left slobbery kisses on your chin and jaw before.

erwin smith

A man who knows what he wants, and he wants you in his bed, lying against his body. He uses the same sleeping position as Armin, but his other hand is always across his chest and on your side. He doesn’t care if it makes him uncomfortable, the need to be touching you, touching what enchants his vision. Soft murmurs are a common occurrence whenever you both do sleep, he loves being able to play with your hair as you mumble out replies. He doesn’t care if you fall asleep before him, it's more time for him to relish in having you beside him. He loves how your face mushes onto his chest whenever he wakes up before you, your cheeks squished by the impact, drool dripping onto him. He loves it, it's something only he can see, would give you a kiss on the head as he stays knowing just how much he loved you.

jean kirschtein

He hates admitting this to anybody and is glad that nobody has ever watched the two of you sleep at all. Your arms around him, his head cushioned on your chest as he lies on top of you, your legs almost wrapped around him. You both know Jean always sleeps easier in that position and you couldn’t lie yourself and say it wasn’t one of your favourite ones. The late-night conversations where you both were at peace; he’d tilt his head against your chest cuddling into your closer as you look down at him softly. The much bigger man became romanticised, becoming something that nobody else would see, his words of affirmation, “I love you…I love you more than anything else in this world.” It's on these nights of confessions of love between one another where you and Jean truly learn the most about each other. A few tears shed but you both had found a different method of intimacy that worked for you both, that proved just how much love you had for one another.

levi ackerman

The way the back of your head rested against his chest, one hand around your waist as the other went straight to the book he was reading. You always eagerly asked for him to read to you, and this was your favourite position. He couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t a position that didn’t help him, your soft snores were always heard within twenty pages, slowly letting you sleep on him as he grabbed the work papers you had pushed to the side. He knew it was hard for him to sleep but if you sleeping on him was the only way for you both to gain some normality he would allow it to continue. Even though doing paperwork would always check up on you, you’d occasionally fidget as his chest was your pillow and snuggle into him as you wanted to feel his warmth. He might fall asleep himself sitting upright but he didn’t care, dozing off as his head fell to the side and you both would wake up with pains in more parts of your body. “Tch, this is what you get for being a brat…my brat though.”

reiner braun

He was obsessed with the way you softly snored across his chest, the way your tiny finger wrapped in the material of his shirt. You had often spoken about how you could only sleep if it was on top of him, and that was one of the main causes to this arrangement that you both had made. He could be all protective and warm to you with his big arms encasing your smaller frame and you could still wrap your entire body around his waist and chest to give him your own love and affection. It worked better than the two of you had ever expected as it was a daily routine for you to end up snuggling into Reiner’s chest. You couldn’t help it; he was your big strong boyfriend and with the personality of a golden retriever how could you not love sleeping across his chest. He’s always the one to give you forehead kisses and say “I love you” when he thinks you're asleep which you definitely always hear.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

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hoezhatelola · 3 years

Text

His Girl

Baji Keisuke x Reader

warnings: dom!baji, sub!fem!reader, toman AU, degradation kink, size kink, gun kink, NSFW 18+, fingering, cunnilingus, idfk what else to put here

a/n: this was kind of rushed but i was suddenly motivated to write a baji smut so here you go all you horny readers :)

sorry if this sucks, terrible case of writers block lately. btw everyone’s aged up !

__________________________________________

everyone who knew baji knew that he was a man who kept his priorities straight. those priorities consisted of toman, his few friends, business, and ever since two years ago- you. despite what everyone assumed, you were okay with not being his first priority. it was normal for you to stay up til the latest hours of the night, awaiting his arrival. it was normal for you to wake up with a cold, empty spot beside you on the mattress.

you never bothered him about what it exactly was that he did inside of toman, or what his so called “business” really was. you knew he was a bit shady, but at the end of the day, when he’s pulling you closer into his chest at 4 a.m., breathing in your scent and peppering kisses onto your forehead, it didn’t matter.

everyone from moebius to valhalla knew that you were his girl. of course, there had been a few instances in the past where baji had to get his hands dirty and correct a few guys for looking at you in the way that only he can look at you.

despite what had become the norm, tonight was different. you were cozy on the couch in the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, a blanket wrapped around your form that was covered with only one of baji’s t-shirts and your lace undies. you sipped on your hot chocolate, slightly jumping as a weak knock sounded on the door.

you got up and went on your tippy toes to peek through the tiny hole, and as you expected you saw baji, his scratched up face and tired eyes looking downwards. your delicate fingers took care of all of the extra locks baji had installed, and you opened the door swiftly.

“finally! i was waiting for yo-” you froze as you looked up at him, his usually narrowed eyes now slightly wider and teary. “baby? what’s the matter?” you took your hand, much smaller than his own, and grabbed his arm to pull him inside before closing and locking the door behind him.

“s too much.. can’t do it ‘nymore…” he muttered, his head now collapsing onto your shoulder. you ran a hand through his black locks as he stood up straight, peering down at you with that same, sad and guilty look. you planted a kiss on his jaw and cupped his cheek. “what’s too much, my love?”

he only looked into your eyes, not speaking as his brows furrowed and a tear silently fell, staining his cheek. he brought his face closer and your lips connected, his tongue rapidly entering your mouth and exploring it with dominance.

“mmh… w-wait, aauh..” you mumbled into his mouth, trying to speak to him. with prior consent, both you and baji had agreed on a safe word and so, naturally, protests such as ‘wait’ or ‘stop’ or ‘slow down,’ meant absolutely nothing to him.

he lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist, his hands resting under your thighs and slamming you down onto the bed that you shared. you looked up at him with lust-filled eyes, and his expression darkened as he bent down and tore apart your thighs.

“look at you…” he chuckled against your skin, nibbling on your inner thigh and running a finger along your clothed slit. “such a fucking mess for me already.” you could tell he was getting a kick out of you feeling embarrassed, and it was his sick way of making you feel good.

he looked up at you once more and you nodded before he tore apart your panties, hungrily eyeing your glistening womanhood that ached for his touch. the first warm lick against your sensitive bud caused you to shiver, and after enjoying your reaction he utterly devoured your pussy. two of his skilled fingers entered your hole without warning, causing you to gasp and arch your back in ecstasy.

the pink muscle continued to suck and flick at your clit, your core immediately tightening, the coil nearly snapping. “s so good… gon’ cum s-s-soon.” you purred, and he gripped your thighs even harder than before, lapping at your folds and chuckling into your pussy, the vibrations causing you to snap.

the coil became fully undone, your orgasm hitting you like a fucking bus, your legs shaking and a loud moan invading your room. “that’s my fucking girl. such a good little cumslut, yeah?” you mindlessly nodded in response, lost in bliss. you snapped back to reality when a small click could be heard, and a cold metal was pressed between your thighs.

in his slender hand you saw his gun, and you jumped up, pulling away. “relax, it’s not loaded... just looks so good next to that pretty pussy.” he rubbed the edge of it up and down your slit, and as you came down from your orgasm you sure as hell were ready for more. you needed more.

“i want you…” you said, making grabby hands in the direction of his dick. the gun slid into your mouth as you whimpered in response. “suck.” he ordered, and you knew better than to disobey him.

“you want what? my big cock in that tight cunt?” he grunted in your ear and you nodded, gagging over and over again on his gun as he continued to push it down your throat. you looked up at him beneath your lashes, your cheeks hollowing as strings of saliva ran down his hand. “fuck… don’t look at me like that.”

he unclasped his belt and looked down at you. despite his rough tone and usual severe degradation towards you, his eyes were asking for consent, to which you nodded. he positioned himself at your entrance and slowly slid in, inch by fucking inch. once you were stuffed full of his eight inches, he huffed and leaned in to your ear, thrusting once without warning.

you mewled loudly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he chuckled, basking in the feeling off your velvety walls pulsating around him. “you’re a bigger whore than i thought… already screaming for me and i’ve barely,” he trusted once more as you moaned, “fucking,” and again he thrusted even harder, “started.”

“kei… s-slow down.” you gasped, clawing at his chest and leaving crescent shaped marks along his shoulders. “what?” he chuckled, “you want me to slow down?” he imitated you by slightly raising his voice before grabbing your neck and pulling you upwards, his lips now touching the shell of your ear. “can’t take my fat cock in that tiny little pussy, hah..”

baji paid special attention to the way your cunt sucked in his girth, groaning at the sight of your throbbing clit begging to be touched by him. he knew your body so well at this point that your walls had molded to shape him, that his eyes flickered to that one spot of your lower stomach, now staring at the bulge that gently bobbed up and down beneath your skin. hell, your pussy was made to take his cock so fucking well.

“f-fuck.. gah.. k-kei, im-” “close? already?” he cut you off. you nodded hastily in response, feeling that familiar warm sensation in your stomach that only he could make you feel. he pressed his hand down on your lower stomach, his dick twitching at the feeling of him inside of you. “fucking pathetic… you can barely last with me fucking your brains out, hm? you’re my dirty fucking slut, aren’t ya?”

you looked up and looked eyes with him, your expression begging to gush all over his length. “y-yes.. ‘m your sl-slut.” you choked on your own words, feeling the air knock out of your lungs as his tip brushed against your cervix and provided a pleasurable sting. baji felt your walls clench around him at his words.

“you dirty little whore… you like being degraded this much, hah?” you didn’t reply as drool seeped down your chin and tears of immeasurable pleasure pricked the corners of your eyes. “i’m fucking talking to you,” he said rather angrily, gripping your throat.

“s-sorry, ‘m gunna cum!” you said loudly, moaning into his sloppy kiss and looking into his eyes as he pulled away and squeezed your throat, cutting off your oxygen almost completely. “yeah? you’re gonna cum soon? gonna cum all over my big cock, right?” he replied with a question, and your vision began to blur.

the biggest orgasm of your life was now pooling in your stomach, and baji knew it too. a smug smirk crept its way onto his face as he cupped your breast and squeezed it gently with his free hand, the other one still lying on your throat. “y-yes… gon’ cum all o-over yer’ f-fat… agh.. cock.”

relaying back to baji that his cock was, in fact, huge was all it took for him to nibble at your shoulder and bring a thumb to your clit before rubbing sloppy circles over it. the coil then snapped, and your orgasm hit you like a crashing wave. you thrashed around underneath him, a pleasurable cry filling the room as your legs shook and he gripped your thighs, watching as your cunt tightened and gushed around him.

“that’s my girl… creaming around me. open wide.” he instructed, and you shivered at the nickname before parting your lips and opening your mouth. he pumped his length dry of all his salty cum that was now dripping down your chin, breasts, lips, and was on your tongue. “swallow.”

you then collapsed after doing as he said as he got up, collecting a warm wash cloth and a glass of water for you. he gently wiped you clean, planting small kisses across your body, all the way from your calves to your forehead. you had to admit, baji’s aftercare was good as hell. he then used a soothing lotion to rub circles on your back, legs, and neck, before handing you the glass of water and collapsing next to you.

your legs tangled together within the soft sheets and warm blankets, and your head was now on his chest as he tangled his fingers in your hair, running them through your locks. you looked up at him and planted two kisses on his jaw as he looked down at you in awe.

“you were so good for me.” he said, and wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you in even closer. the feeling of your warm, naked bodies resting against each other was enough to warm his entire heart, and the smile that you gave him as he kissed your forehead was enough to make his heart flutter.

“did you wanna tell me what happened tonight? you know… why you came back all scratched up and sad?” you asked, and he hesitated to reply before grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him. his back now rested against the headboard, and he pulled you closer so that your foreheads were now touching.

“i wish…” he hesitated again, and you cupped his cheek in attempt to reassure him everything would be ok. “i wish we could spend more time together, so we could cuddle and go out that’s all.” your heart picked up the pace as your eyes widened and a smile spread across your lips.

“aah… you’re so adorable, kei.” you ruffled his hair and planted a kiss on his lips, his hands still gripping your bare hips. “i wish we could too… but i understand you’re busy.” his stomach dropped at your words, did you really think you weren’t more important to him than his ‘job?’

he took a hand and gently ran it up the side of your body, all the way to your cheek, staring into your eyes as if he was deep in thought. “you know you’re the most important thing to me, right?” you nodded in response, his heart aching at the realization that there was nothing he could do to improve the amount of time he actually got to see you.

“let’s just make the most out of the time we do have together.”

#tokyo revengers #anime #smut #tokyo revengers baji #baji keisuke #tokyo revengers smut #baji x reader #baji #baji smut #im too #lazy #to put more tags #enjoy #i hope yall like it

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hanazuma-inactive · 3 years

Note

Hi, I love your writings ❤. I really enjoy reading them.

Um, can I request Oikawa Tooru with virgin!reader who is (sub, bottom); (praise kink, but doesn't know he has and kinda shy when he knows it); (has shy, soft, and really submissive personality) (3rd year student) ? Reader with Oikawa is a couple of lover, and a roommate. They usually do some cuddles in their bedroom that always started with Oikawa teasing the reader. One day, when cuddling, Oikawa asked reader if he wants to do something more intimate than cuddling and really feels good.

Sorry if that is too much. Thank you

king and his prince, (nsfw) oikawa x bottom!reader

pronouns: he/him (FEMALE ORIENTED DNI!!)

warnings: creampie, praise kink! flirty oikawa

a/n: oikawa is probs my least favorite character in haikyuu, im pretty sure i hated him at one point cuz of his personality. i later found out from many website i am unfortunately a oikawa kinnie (even tho i dont really think so but idk) explains all the self hatred lmao, again for the anon that requested it im sorry for the bad quality cuz i stayed up to write this at 6 am so undoubtedly there will be some mistakes

_____

"y/n, my dear prince~ doesn't it feel good like this?"

"t-tooru…it feels good, i-it really does!" you said, messy hair and looking directly at your boyfriend.

"you look so beautiful when you enjoy it, keep up that pretty face won't you?"

oikawa tooru was too popular for your comfort at school. everyone liked him and they all had a good reason to, and that doesn't make you any different. you were shy and didn't catch a lot of attention so you were incredibly surprised that someone as popular as oikawa even wanted to talk to you.

you were smart and in fact smart enough to compete with oikawa. in fact the first time you caught his attention was when you corrected an answer, making him embarrassed in front of the class. he wanted to "settle this" only to find you harmless. later on he talked to you more and more. the contrast of personality of you two complimented each other pretty well. a cocky bastard who doesn't know how to shut up and a shy boy who likes to listen. inevitably the two of you grew closer as friends, so much to a point where you moved into the same apartment unit.

you didn't mind getting closer to oikawa, emotionally or physically with him being your crush and all so this was pretty much what you wanted, you just didn't think he would be the one to offer instead. being enclosed in a space together made oikawa get a lot more comfortable with you. random hugs here and there, maybe a little head pat, and sometimes leaning on each other's shoulders. it was practically a dream come true and you didn't think this could possibly get better until the man pulled something else out his sleeves.

one day you fell asleep watching the tv in the living room. the weather was a little chilly so falling asleep without a blanket near you wasn't the best idea. oikawa came home to find you shivering in your sleep so of course like the genius he is, he didn't decide to throw a blanket or carry you back into your bedroom and instead cuddled with you on the couch, leaving you wrapped around his arms basically unable to move when you woke up.

both of you would be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it. therefore, this whole cuddling session became a regular thing between you two. oikawa being the big spoon and you being the small one. it went on for a while until both of you realized this might not have been the most normal thing that "friends" did. at this point you're pretty sure oikawa had feelings for you, or else he wouldn't have done a lot of the things he has. after a lot of urging from his friends, he finally decided to confess to you. despite him being the playboy he is, he was quite nervous this time, due to the fact that he had to say it to someone he actually has feelings for. so just like that, the relationship between you two finally became official.

another day you guys during your normal cuddling session, oikawa proposed an interesting idea, and to be honest you saw this coming.

"babeeeee, why don't we try something more interesting this time~?" oikawa said, staring at you with his arms around you.

you knew exactly what oikawa meant, you weren't stupid, but you know that he likes it when you act all innocent so you decided to do just that.

"hm? what do you mean tooru-kun? i don't think i understand?"

"oh…baby boy i know you know what i mean alright~" just as he said that the brown haired man grabbed you in for a kiss.

your tongues started to intertwine immediately. this was very much oikawa's style, aggressive and dominant, but soft and caring when he wanted to. the kiss was generally messy but you could tell that oikawa was putting effort into this with all his tiny and intricate movements. a string of saliva connected you after he broke the kiss. leaving you panting and gasping for air while he's on the other side with a sly grin.

"you ready for the next part now?"

"t-there's more ah-!" you gasped as your boyfriend pulled down your pants at once, leaving your hard cock to bounce out.

"of course there is~ we have to tend to this guy don't we?" he said, holding your dick and positioning himself to suck your dick.

yet again attacked by oikawa's mouth you just couldn't keep it for long anymore. it's like his mouth is heaven made or something and it will continue to turn you on and make you cum without fail.

"a-ah! tooru..i'm gonna cum! mmghm!" you said, shooting all your load straight into your boyfriend's mouth, which of course he gladly swallowed right after.

"t-that's it right? i don't think i'll be able to handle more, you know…" you said out of both fear and excitement.

however all you got in response was a smirk from oikawa as he slid off his shirt to reveal his perfectly toned abs.

"almost done, pretty boy."

something about that word, made your half flaccid cock immediately rise up and become as hard as your boyfriends again.

"heh? what a strange reaction, could this mean…" oikawa leaned in closer, enough so that all the hair near your ears would stand up and said,

"my prince likes to be praised?"

you've heard about this so-called praise kink before but didn't exactly think you'd be into it this much. your face turned redder than they already are and you just wanted to cover your face and run away.

"aw, c'mon, it's cute! and if you like it-' oikawa said, spreading your legs open, exposing your asshole and angling his cock head to the entrance of it.

"i might just praise you a little more than usual, hm?"

your boyfriend was hot but this was undoubtedly the most attractive he's ever been. towered over you whispering praises in your ear as he prepared you with his fingers for something bigger that's about to come next. without a warning oikawa began to inch his way into your ass, moving and adjusting his cock to fit your tight asshole.

"you're taking me so well baby...keep doing just that alright? i know you're so good for me aren't you?" oikawa said, leaning closer at you.

at a loss for words due to how flustered you are, you could only give your boyfriend a little nod and covered your face with your arms while flashing a little red on your cheeks once again.

"y/n, my dear prince~ doesn't it feel good like this?"

"t-tooru…it feels good, i-it really does!" you said, messy hair and looking directly at your boyfriend.

"you look so beautiful when you enjoy it, keep up that pretty face won't you?"

the praises that he showered you with were too much. you were already so sensitive since it was your first time and all. now with all these lustful words turning you on, you couldn't hold it in anymore and came onto your stomach while your boyfriend continued to make slow but deep thrusts onto your prostate.

your head was still a little fuzzy but you could still feel your boyfriend jerking his hips faster and faster, ending with a long thrusts at the end which wasn't hard to assume that your boyfriend came inside you, just like how you wanted it. before passing out from bliss, a hand cupped your cheek followed with a gentle kiss on the forehead.

"you did so well baby…i know you're tired so rest now, i'll be here alright."

you couldn't be more happy, with such a loving and caring boyfriend. that being said, you fell into his arms once again and slipped into your dreams even thought they have already become reality.

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khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

Text

They lay together in bed, panting gently and clutching each other.

He should probably leave now. His spectroscopy lecture begins in less than 20 minutes. But instead of getting off the bed and putting on his clothes, Magnus runs a hand up Alec’s naked chest.

“Can I ask you something?”

Alec hums in response, his eyes closed.

Magnus considers touching the tiny silver cross lying on Alec’s chest. But he hesitates, almost as if he is worried that the touch would burn him. So, instead, he runs lazy circles around the pendant.

“Have you always been religious?” Magnus asks.

“Yes,” Alec replies. And then. “No.”

Magnus waits.

“When I was a kid, yeah,” Alec says then. “My family is religious, so it’s hard not be, you know? We went to church every Sunday. We threw parties for first communions. We celebrated all the holidays. The whole damn thing.”

Magnus smiles at that. He can imagine little Alec hiding Easter eggs for his siblings and little Alec decorating the Christmas tree with his parents.

“And when you are a kid, it’s easier to believe in god,” Alec points out. “You are kinda helpless and powerless. So, you want to believe in someone powerful. Someone you can trust and rely on. Someone who will watch over you. Someone you can hold accountable. You just want to believe in something bigger than yourself. It makes you feel safe. But then you slowly grow up and realise no one can keep you safe - not even god.”

“What happened?” Magnus asks after a moment.

“I realised I like sucking dick,” Alec says casually.

Magnus chuckles softly at that. He holds Alec a little tighter. “Did people know? At your, um, congregation?”

“Parish,” Alec corrects. “And not really. People didn’t know about me. But they still talked about people like me. They said god hates people like me and that I am a sinner and I am going to go to hell.”

“Alexander-”

“For a while, it was hard to go to Church without feeling like I didn’t belong there,” Alec says, his voice almost nostalgic. “It was hard to pray without wanting to ask for forgiveness for who I am. And I didn’t want to do that. Because I am not sorry. Not for who I am.”

Magnus does touch the cross this time. He pulls at it gently. “But you found your way back to god eventually?”

“I did,” Alec nods.

“What happened?”

Alec tenses against him, ever so slightly. His eyes are still closed.

“My brother.”

“Jace?” Magnus questions. “The military guy?”

“No,” Alec says, his voice hoarse. “I, uh, I had another one.”

Had.

Magnus moves a little closer to Alec, even though it’s impossible to do so. He moves his hand a little higher, cupping Alec’s face gently.

“What was his name?” Magnus asks softly.

“Max,” Alec whispers, there is a faint smile on his face. “Max Joseph Lightwood.”

“Hmm,” Max says. “What was he like?”

Alec shakes his head, almost immediately. “Not now. Sorry.”

Magnus presses a finger against Alec’s jaw. “Of course. I understand.”

“He was nine,” Alec whispers to the room. “When he died…I think a part of my family died with him. And our faith is the only thing that got us through it. We almost lost each other too. But we pulled ourselves together. We prayed. We prayed for Max and we prayed for ourselves. Prayer and faith and love. That’s how we survived.”

“I’m glad you survived,” Magnus tells him gently.

“Me too,” Alec manages a smile. “I don’t…I don’t feel all that shit anymore. About me being gay.”

“No?” Magnus clarifies with a tiny grin.

“No,” Alec confirms. “I don’t think god gives a fuck, Magnus. Who are all these people to tell me that god hates me? What authority do they have to speak on behalf of god? I figured if god has a problem with me being gay, he’ll tell me himself.”

Magnus smiles again. He doesn’t know what to say. He is just happy. For Alec.

“And this,” Alec says, taking Magnus’ hand and runs it down his own body, shivering slightly at Magnus’ touch. “This doesn’t feel like a sin. This feels like heaven.”

“Alexander,” Magnus chuckles. “You eloquent babe.”

“Hush,” Alec says and Magnus does so, as he rests his head on Alec’s chest - right next to the cross.

“Do you think you will ever find your way back to god, Magnus?” Alec asks him after a moment.

Magnus closes his eyes and thinks.

“No, love,” he replies quietly - because there is too much to forgive and forget. “I don’t think that’s for me.”

“S’okay,” Alec yawns and pulls Magnus closer, before kissing the top of his head. “I’ll pray for both of us.”

Magnus smiles again and lets himself fall asleep.

- Sundays are for Divorce AUs and missing spectroscopy lectures.

#magnus not to be that person but WHAT ABOUT YOUR LECTURE????#divorce au

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 4)

i hope yall enjoyed the last part, we took a sudden and quite dirty turn ther,e but we are heading down romantic street and its all sweet and cute with a little hotness. let me know what you thought about the part!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 4.7k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Harry Styles managed to leave quite the impression in you following his late night visit after the Emmys. He surely surprised you with not only the unbelievable orgasm he gave you with his talented fingers, but also with how big of a gentleman he really was, so keen on taking you out on a date first before he would kiss you. The timeline got a little messed up and he did apologize before he left at two in the morning for getting too carried away, but you assured him he didn’t do anything you didn’t want him to. To be honest, you wouldn’t have had a word against him kissing you right away, but you liked the respect he had for you, not something you’ve had plenty of lately. The men you dealt with in the past year were eager to get into your pants without the respect part, only hungry to earn fame through you, trying to blind you with sex so you wouldn’t realize their ugly motives.

This was not a threat when it came to Harry, he was just as famous as you, maybe even more. He had his own career, his own money, his own life apart from yours and he clearly wasn’t trying to use you and it was quite a refreshing change for you.

He stayed and the two of you talked so much, just sharing crazy stories from your life before and after fame, enjoying that you had someone who shared more or less the same background as you. Apart from Florence, you pretty much kept your old friends when your career took off, afraid to make new ones, always feeling a little paranoid that new people would have unholy motives when they try to befriend you.

Though you truly love your friends, they don’t really see behind the life you are living, while Harry completely does. His company is the best you’ve had in a long time, he is able to make you completely forget about everything outside the room you two are in.

You tried your best to hide your disappointment when he left that night. After offering him to stay in one of your guest bedrooms, he politely turned it down, and even though you could tell he wanted to stay, the urge to be a gentleman was greater in him, something you admire him for.

He left with the promise to see you soon on a real date and he got you as excited as a little school girl on the day of a fieldtrip.

However, given the lifestyles you two were living, finding a suitable evening for the both of you turns out to be a bigger struggle than you expected. Harry reaches out right the next day after his little visit. A good morning text waits for you by the time you open your eyes in the noon and by the evening he asks you out, however you have to realize the date has to wait a little.

You have two trip outside the city upcoming in the next two weeks and he is also planning to fly back to London for a while, the trips totally crashing in the timeline, not even having just the smallest window that would fit the both of you.

Accepting the fact that it would have to wait a little longer, you keep in close touch, eager to find the date that would finally be suitable for you and him as well. Endless texts, sweet calls and sneaky FaceTimes scatter through the days you spend apart and you find it hard to think of a time when he wasn’t hitting you up all the time.

On a Thursday evening, after a long day of fittings for upcoming events, you find yourself sitting on your couch with a sweet glass of wine, scrolling through your social media feeds when something catches your eyes.

Harry has been away in Los Angeles in the past few days and he mentioned having an interview the other day, but you didn’t think it would be out so soon, but here it was, a short video clip cut out by some random page that had a rather interesting title.

“Harry Styles talks about next album and mystery girl in his life.”

Your curiosity is way too strong not to click on it and have a look at it, so taking a sip from your wine you tap on the link and let the video load.

“It’s been some time since your last album came out, have you been working on new music lately?” the interviewer asked from behind the camera as Harry sat on a lilac sofa, wearing black high-waisted pants with a pink and white floral printed shirt tugged into it, his suspenders topping the look perfectly. His green eyes are fixed on the person asking him as he nods.

“Yeah, I think I never really stop making new music. I do have sessions when I’m trying to put a new album together, but I also write in the meantime as well, whenever I have an idea or inspiration. I don’t hold back,” he adds with a cheeky smile.

“Have you found any inspiration lately?” the question is heard and Harry nods once again.

“I have, actually,” he answers shortly, but his smirk gives it away that there’s a lot more behind his words and you feel your heart flutter in your chest. Is he talking about you?

“Has it been a person?” the reporter inquires, making Harry’s smile grow wider.

“A lot of things and people inspire me.”

“Alright, and is your latest inspiration something or someone new in your life?” the guy tries again, even though it’s well known that Harry likes to give vague answers instead of straight yeses and nos.

“Kind of new,” he simply answers and the reporter realizes he won’t be sharing more about the topic so he moves on with the next question and the video cuts out right there.

Though it wasn’t mentioned that he was talking about someone in particular, his fans drew the assumption that he is definitely seeing someone who has been his inspiration behind his new music. Feeling bold and a little flirty, you open up your messages and send him a quick text.

“A kind of new inspiration, huh?”

His reply comes almost right away, as always.

“Have you been stalking fanpages about me?”

“Would it be weird?”

“From you? It’s flattering. Little scary, but in a good way.”

You can’t help but chuckle reading his words. He never fails to make you laugh, you find his humor your favorite kind, never hurtful, but a little spicy, if you could say that, a lot of irony laced into it.

“Back to the topic: what’s your inspiration? Or should I ask… who is your inspiration?”

“Not gonna beat around the bush and just admit it…”

You wait and wait… and wait, but nothing comes afterwards and you are dying to have him admit that it’s been you, but not even the three dots appear at the bottom, so you take the lead again.

“Well, do it. Admit it, Styles!”

The fucker likes your message right away, meaning he has been in the thread all along, waiting for you to write something.

“Alright, but don’t tell anyone, because she is kinda famous and I don’t want the media to find out about it.”

“You have my silence.”

You watch the three dots dance at the bottom, holding your breath while you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, trying to contain your wide grin that’s been plastered across your face this whole time.

When the text finally arrives you snort loudly, almost spilling your wine, laughing so hard you are happy you don’t like in a tiny apartment anymore with paper walls, because your neighbor would have definitely heard your laughter all the way down the hallway.

“It’s Betty White. Fuck, she is all I can think about.”

You need a minute to stop the laughter and type your reply.

“She is hot, gotta give you that.”

“Right?? I hope she is not afraid to date younger guys though.”

“I’m sure she would make an exception for you.”

“I hope so too.”

There’s a short pause, where you just read back his lines, chuckling to yourself some more. He always has a witty comment or comeback, no matter what you’re talking about and not once has he made you laugh madly on a set, at a meeting or just lying in bed before going to sleep.

“Joke aside, would it scare you away if I said I have definitely written about you?”

“Is this another theoretical question? Like the one you asked me on Ellen?”

You smile to yourself thinking back at the conversation the two of you had on the show when he was trying to figure out if you’d be up to give him your number.

“Maybe. So theoretically, would that be weird to you?”

“No,” you write, but quickly send another text. “But you know, it’s just theory. You’d have to tell me for real to find out.”

“Should have saw that coming…”

“Yeah, you really should have,” you muse to yourself, finishing up your glass and you carefully put it to your coffee table before sliding further down on the couch to get back to the conversation with Harry. You see that he hasn’t sent anything after his last one, so you decide to actually answer his question.

“Joke aside from my part, I wouldn’t find it weird. I think it’s flattering.”

“Okay, because I was ready to burn all my notes if you said it would be too much.”

“What if you’d be burning a Grammy worthy song though?”

“Would be a shame. But I would still burn it for you.”

“You are such a flirt…”

“Can’t help it! Or should I not be?”

“I like it. So don’t change.”

“Noted.”

Your little conversation has to come to an end since he is about to go into a meeting, but when you say your goodbyes and decide it’s time to head to bed, you already know a text will be waiting for you when you wake up in the morning.

Days and even weeks go by and you start to have a little too much on your plate. No matter how much you love your job and that it has always been your dream, sometimes you just need a breather. In the past week you’ve been in and out of auditions for a movie they keep top secret, you didn’t even get a script, just a few pages you had to memorize and they’ve been asking for more and more tapes from you with kind of absurd requests, but your agent told you it’s something major, that’s why they are so secretive. However, when they ask you to come in for another reading for the fifth time in seven days and you still don’t know what you are really auditioning for, you are kind of starting to have enough with all your other projects running at the same time. Your days start at six in the morning and rarely end before eleven in the night.

An entire month after the night Harry came over to your place, you kind of lose patience. The frustration that’s been building up inside you just simply bursts when your agent texts you on your way home that you’d have to go in for another casting in the morning for the same mystery movie.

“Have they not seen my face enough?” you snap, hands meeting the wheel as you keep your eyes on the road ahead of you.

“I’m sorry, Hun. I know it’s annoying, but they requested you, that means you are still an option for them.” Mona’s voice comes through the speakers of the car since your phone is connected to it.

“Do they need me to read the whole fucking Bible in front of a camera or what?” you growl.

“I have a good feeling about this last one, alright? And if they still can’t decide after that, we can always just say that we want out.”

“Then I would be labelled as the problematic little princess,” you sigh, knowing well how this industry works. Just one mistake and you can easily end up in a theoretical ditch.

“Just hold on a little longer, okay? I’ll send you the details in email and we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Bye, girl.”

Mona is an angel. She’s been your agent for about five years now, she is the one who gets you into castings, well, at least that’s what she was doing before you managed to reach your breakthrough. She got your name on lists you couldn’t even dare to dream of and she is the reason why you are here today. Now she mostly handles requests for you to go in for castings, creators started to reach out to you a while ago, though Mona still works her magic sometimes to get you into castings that are still out of your league.

By the time you get home, you are desperate to do something. Anything. You’ve been nonstop working these past weeks and you just need to get out of this loop that sucked you in. Before you could even think through what you’re doing, you dial Harry’s number.

He is back in the city, that you know of because he texted even before he got home. You both ditched the idea of having your date today, because you just knew it would be a long day for you, and it’s the truth, it’s past ten, so not quite ideal for a date, but you ran out of fucks to give.

“Y/N? Everything alright?” he asks, noticing that you called, which is not what you usually do, or at least not without checking in if he is free to talk.

“Yeah, sorry I called so randomly. Are you busy?” you ask, feeling a little out of breath, even though you definitely didn’t do anything physically hard. You just can’t help but feel anxious since you are about to ask him out on a spontaneous date.

“No, just… packing and all that. What’s up?”

“So you don’t have anything to do right now?” you clear up.

“No,” he chuckles.

“Alright, so then… what do you say we have that date now?”

Even with him always being so blunt and open about how interested he is in you, it still makes you perfect to ask him out. The silence that comes from his side doesn’t necessarily help either and you are already preparing yourself to get rejected.

“You know it’s ten pm, right?” he then asks, a little unsure if you really thought it through.

“I am aware, yes.”

“Don’t you have work in the morning? I know you always start your days so early, I don’t want to be the reason why yo—“

“Harry,” you stop him midsentence. “I do not give a fuck about what I’m doing in the morning,” you bluntly tell him and you can tell he is smiling on the other end of the call. “So the question is still the same. Do you want to have that date now?”

He doesn’t ask anything else, just simply say the following: “I’ll pick you up in thirty.”

“Make it twenty,” you tell him and end the call before he could protest.

Ignoring the adrenaline rush you that just washed over your body you quickly make your way to the bathroom to take the quickest cold shower before putting on some clean clothes. You really don’t want to overdo it, knowing well since it’s so abrupt he wouldn’t be taking you anywhere that would require you look spotless. You choose not to put on any makeup, not just because you don’t have the time, but also because you feel a weird urge to just be bare, be yourself around him. The same goes for your outfit. You put aside all designer clothes and opt for a simple pair of jeans, a black tank top and a bright yellow knitted jumper over it, looking awfully casual, but feeling rather comfortable.

It takes Harry 22 minutes to get to your place, but you choose not to comment on those two extra minutes when you get into his car. Luckily, he isn’t dressed to impress either, wearing a simple pair of jeans with some kind of washed out, vintage printed tee shirt with his Bode Jacket he has worn in his famous SNL episode. His hair looks a little mess and even wet, making you wonder if your call caught him in the middle of a shower or he showered after you agreed to meet up.

“Long time no see,” he smiles at you, his boyish smirk making your heart flutter so easily as he eyes you while you buckle yourself up.

“You had plenty of paparazzi photos to look at in the meantime, Mr. Styles,” you smirk at him teasingly as he starts the car and leaves from in front of your complex.

“My favorite was the ones of you where you were walking out of a restaurant wearing that silk dress and the coat.”

“So you did see pap pictures?” you ask chuckling, you didn’t mean it entirely, but you find it funny that he actually saw pictures of you.

“You know, it’s been hard to avoid you online, especially because I keep liking all your posts so my phone thinks I’m interested in you. Which is true, and I’m not complaining about the content I’ve been seeing about you lately,” he admits chuckling and your eyes wander down to his ring clad fingers on the wheel. Your thoughts take you back to when they were touching you at places you haven’t been touched in a while. How they felt inside you and how desperate he could make you with just his hands.

You force yourself to look away from his hands and focus on the present time before your arousal becomes way too evident.

“Sorry I’m everywhere,” you smirk at him, enjoying the situation maybe a little too much.

“Don’t be,” he chuckles, glancing in your way for a moment, his green eyes meeting your gaze. “I don’t mind it,” he adds and those damn butterflies as quick to act up again in your stomach.

You don’t try to get him to tell where you are headed, wanting it to be a surprise yourself, so you just stare out at the night city as it runs past you, still quite a lot of people walking on the streets even though it’s now nearing eleven.

What you know is that you’re still in Manhattan and it seems like you won’t leave it either. Harry navigates his way through the city easily, he is not even using GPS, something you could never do. No matter how long you’ve been living here, you’ll always get lost in this jungle some call New York City. About fifteen minutes after leaving your complex, Harry parks the car down in a spot he found along the road, and looking out the window you’re trying to figure out where you are, but it doesn’t ring a bell. Seems just like a usual part of the Upper West Side, so now he has you curious about his plans.

“Where did you bring me, Mr. Styles?” you ask him as the two of you meet on the sidewalk and he glances at your with a sly smirk.

“Since you gave me such a short notice about our date, I thought I would show you one of my favorite places in the city and I hope you haven’t it.” “Well, I can assure you I don’t know it, because I have no idea what could be here,” you admit.

Harry nods at you to follow him and you walk side by side until the next corner.

“I think you already know that I’m English,” he starts off, making you chuckle.

“Yeah, it’s pretty evident,” you nod.

“So, in the past decade I haven’t spent as much time in the UK as I wanted, and a few years ago I discovered a little piece of my home in the city.”

Trying to figure out what he meant by that you don’t even realize where you just took a turn to. Harry stops and you snap out of your thoughts, looking up and seeing a charming little street ahead you, looking totally out of place in the city’s fashion. The townhouses all the way down look like they’ve been placed here straight from England, the Tudor style complex is a refreshing change in the fast paced, busy streets of Manhattan.

You can’t help but gasp at the sight in front of you, taking in every tiny detail with your eager eyes as the feeling of being in a fairytale takes over your mind. If only it weren’t for the busy noises of the streets around the micro-neighborhood, you would completely believe that you’ve been magically teleported to England.

“It’s called the Pomander Walk. Always makes me feel like I’m home away from home whenever I miss my family and my hometown.”

Harry starts walking down the narrow pavement that runs between the houses, lined with quite some greenery, something you noticed right away. There are just so many plants and flowers down the street, it’s pretty clear the residents keep them in good care.

You catch up with Harry, eyes still taking in the pleasant contrast Pomander Walk has to offer for any visitors.

“I feel like we are invaders,” you tell him. It looks so secluded, makes you feel like you weren’t even supposed to be here.

“Don’t worry, it’s totally public. The people who live here are pretty nice too. Love it when someone comes around.”

“How did you find this place?”

“A friend told me about it and just came to see it for myself one day,” he tells you as the two of you slowly make your way down the street, slow enough so you could see everything. “There are 61 units and they were built in 1921 by Thomas J. Healy. He originally wanted to build a hotel here, but didn’t have the money to just yet, so he built these instead to make some cash for the hotel. He never got to do that though, died a few years later, so Pomander Walk stayed.” You listen to him, soaking in every word that leaves his lips, finding his oddly specific knowledge about this place quite exciting and… kinda hot. You could listen to him talk about historical facts for days without getting bored.

“The whole complex was renovated in 2009, they restored a bunch of architectural details that lost through the years.”

“Looks fantastic. I wonder what they look like on the inside,” you muse, your eyes wandering over the colorfully painted old school window blinds on most of the townhouses.

Walking down the pavement you realize there’s not a single soul around here, something you don’t get to experience too often in the city.

“It’s not too well-known, right? I don’t see any tourists and all that.”

Harry shakes his head, eyes ahead of him as he hides his hands in his pockets.

“No, ‘s quite hidden, not often listed in sights to be seen in the city. That’s why I like to come here so much.”

“Easy to stay unnoticed,” you add with a smile as your eyes meet his gaze and he nods, returning the smile.

You walk back and forth on the street at least five times, just talking and sharing and laughing, finally falling out of the misery of your everydays. He still amazes you with how good of a company he is, with his broad view of life and many experiences, you can truly connect with him on a level you haven’t been able to reach with anyone in a long time.

It’s way over midnight when you head back to his car, holding hands that happened at a point earlier, but you can’t tell who reached for who. It was kind of mutual, but now you didn’t want to let go of him… ever. You let your fingers play with his S ring on his pinky while he keeps running his thumb over the back of your hand whenever he has the chance. It’s a little disappointing when you have to let go of each other when you climb back into his car and head back home.

“I know this date wasn’t much, but I hope you liked it,” he smiles at you shyly before his eyes snap back at the road ahead of him.

“Shut up, this was literally the best date I’ve had,” you tell him making him chuckle. “Thank you for showing it to me.”

“Now it’s your secret place too. Maybe we’ll run into each other here one day.”

“I’ll definitely come back,” you admit smirking.

The city lights pass by you faster than you want them to, and you arrive to your complex way too early. Well, not according to the time, because it’s way past half past midnight now, but you just don’t want the night to end. However, you know Harry would not come up if you asked. He is way too big of a gentleman and he wouldn’t want to make you miss your appointment in the morning, but you are definitely collecting that kiss he promised a month or so ago.

“Walk me up, will you?” you ask him softly when he parks down in front of your building. He nods and follows you inside without a second thought.

You both know it’s about to happen, the air thickens between you two in the elevator and neither of you can hold back the small smiles on your lips. Harry walks next to you until you reach your front door and you turn to face him, his green eyes already examining your every move.

“I’m happy we finally got to do this,” you tell him, feeling a blush warming your cheeks from the way he looks at you now.

“I’m glad you called. Was starting to think we would never meet again,” he chuckles making you laugh as well. It really did feel like the universe was plotting against you, but you bet it didn’t expect your sudden move tonight.

There’s a longer pause where neither of you knows what to say or do next and your patience is running low, especially when you see him run his tongue over his pink lips. You just can’t wait any longer to taste them.

“Harry,” you breathe out, the frustration and desire at an all-time high now in your system. Never in your life did it take this long for you to get to a kiss with a guy you were clearly interested in and who returned the feeling as well.

“Yeah?”

“Swear to my lost Emmy Award if you don’t kiss me right now I’ll—“

You don’t get to finish, you don’t even know what you’d have said, but it’s all forgotten when Harry kisses you hard, hands cupping your jaw on both sides, angling your head to grant him the best access to your lips. You return the kiss without a second thought, hungrily tugging and pulling on his lips, your tongues meeting in the middle and fuck! He really knows how to make your toes curl with just a kiss. You grab a fistful of his t-shirt at his stomach, pulling him close and the cold touch of his rings on your skin makes you shudder. Everything about him makes your legs turn into jelly and you are willingly offering yourself to him without a doubt.

He pushes you against your front door, one of his hands wanders down to your waist and he gives it a gentle squeeze that makes you open your mouth more for him. You are a mess and so is he. You have no idea how long you make out, but when you eventually pull back, your chest is heaving and your lips feel swollen. Harry pecks your lips two more times before forcing himself to let go of you.

“Good night, Y/N,” he murmurs in a low voice as he starts to back towards the elevator.

“Good night, Harry,” you say a little out of breath. He smirks at you one last time before walking into the elevator and the doors close, officially ending your first date.

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