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#It doesn’t help that I’m away from my desk but I though I could function else where

usedpidemo · 1 year

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You're a mess (Le sserafim Kazuha)

“Come on! We’re leaving in an hour, so finish packing whatever you’ll bring!” says your mother, fist knocking on the door like a sandbag. With the constant stomping on the stairs, you’d think there’s some kind of construction or renovation happening, but bags are in the process of being moved out slowly. You’re in the process of vacating the house for the beach, at least for a week.

“Yeah, just give me a few!” you yell back, your default line to her at this point, it might as well be your catchphrase. You know that she knows it won’t take a few. As family, it’s all customary, but she never fails to miss giving you a stark reminder, not even once.

Turning from the bedroom door—sealed shut for an extra layer of security, like the movable desk isn’t enough to let anyone in—you look toward your bed, an utter mess with sheets and pillows scattered all over the room. It’s an abominable sight everywhere you look—except for the figure laying on it.

“Gosh, your place is such a damn mess,” says the young girl, auburn hair flowing everywhere like they’re part of the clutter. With how relaxed she looked, she might as well have just woken up, ignoring the part where she’s dressed for a day out in the sun. “I mean, how old are you again?”

“This isn’t the time to joke around, Zuha,” you reply, offended, while you run to the bathroom, then to the closet, then to the three luggages on the opposite end of the room. Objects are carried from one place to another without purpose, without reason. Rinse and repeat. You’re directionless and aimless, like this is your first time experiencing living in such a chaotic environment, when in reality, this setting has molded you to who you are now.

“Come on, help me gather my things,” you continue, shuffling random items in your hands as if you have no idea what they are or what function they serve, and she promptly obliges. Thanks to Kazuha’s help, what could have been a laborious period of cleaning and packing is completed in less than five minutes. Sure, your grooming kit is packed with your chips and soda cans, and your game console is stored next to your swimming gear, but you can sort that out later when you’re at your destination.

“And that’s about it, really,” you say, giving your girlfriend a high-five for your combined efforts —when really, she carried most of the work for you. Look at the bags you’ve prepared; they’re extremely bloated to the point of bursting open at any given moment.

“You sure about this? I mean, we’re only going to be away for like a week. It’s not like we’re not leaving the country or anything.” Lifting an eyebrow, Kazuha looks at your baggage, then turns to you, pushing her lip out, showing concern.

“Pretty sure I have everything I need!” you blurt out, nodding to her like everything’s fine, but your plastic smile and heightened tone betrays you. Most of your room is cleared of all its litter and items, mostly stowed away in your luggage as your ‘travel essentials.’ In comparison, Kazuha has prepared only one suitcase for clothing and one backpack for her personal belongings.

“Do you travel like this all the time?” she asks, more of a joke rather than an inquiry, knowing you’ll more than likely never use most of these extra possessions. “I mean, your parents only share one luggage—”

“Yeah! I’m gonna have lots of fun, and I have everything I need!” The words leave you as strangely aggressive, and even though you’re beside her, you’re verbally flailing your arms in self-defense.

“Sure you do,” she replies, as if mumbling to herself, but still audible for you to hear. Then, she looks at her wristwatch. “We still have fifty minutes. I think we could sort out your bags so it doesn’t blow up—”

“What’s wrong with packing everything?” Face her with an upset expression on her face. “I thought you’d be okay with it, too.”

She blushes right as she looks at you, charmed at your uptightness—acting all cute and sweet, knowing how to make anyone go ‘aww’ and give you a free pass for your misdeeds—but she’s not like mom, who falls for your bluff every single time. “You don’t really need most of those, you know?”

“You know, you’re sounding a lot like mom and I don’t like it.” You pout and puff your cheeks in a last ditch effort to soften the potential blow, but she remains firm against you.

Keeping her gaze at your level, she walks over to your inflated baggage. Defensive as you are, you do nothing to stop her from opening one of your bags and clearing most of the burdensome junk inside.

“Well, I’m not your mother, but I sure as hell am as concerned as she is,” replies your girlfriend, tone showing frustration—a rare expression. She rummages through the second and third bags, filters out all the unnecessary weight surgically like the first, and gathers them together in a garbage bag picked out from your portable desk. As she slides the desk aside to open the bedroom door and eject your garbage from the room, you’re powerless.

“How long have you been living like this? Even when I’m here, almost every single day?” asks Kazuha, more of a demand and less of a joke as she closes the door behind her. “I should be sick and done with you, but thank your lucky stars I’m not.”

This was her breaking point, and you knew right away.

If the little details she makes aren’t enough, her words make it oh-so apparent that you fucked up—severely. The slight force exerted when she swings the door open and close, the sharp, intimidating furrow of her brows, and the blunt drop of her words—she’s the sweetest person you know, a parent’s dream child, and the closest thing to an angel in disguise, whose patience borders on infinite, and gentle with everything and everyone. Now here she is, showing the side you’d never want anyone to see, rear her head with disdain and hate toward you. She’s not screaming her lungs out or destroying your room—at least more than you already have—but it breaks your heart watching her turn against you like this.

And it was all completely avoidable, had you been a better person.

You’d happily forego the trip if it means she’s her usual sweet, bright self again. Hell, you’d happily give up anything she asked if the end result was her looking at you fondly once more.

She sits on the edge of your bed—hers now—and takes her phone out from her pocket. You’re never this terrified of opening your mouth to speak to another person, even to your parents. Clear that lump in your throat. The next words you deliver either prolong or kill this relationship.

“Zuha,” you say, and it comes out as a soft, terrified whisper, barely audible enough to make her notice you dropping her name. As she turns her gaze toward you, there’s still a strong ire behind those striking eyes. She doesn’t respond, doesn’t note (at least you think she doesn’t) the stiffness on your features, your fingers nervously pressing on each other, only looking on coldly as you force your brain to think maturely for once. Sure, she can wait on that mattress all day, but there’s the self-imposed pressure of time weighing on your head, as if it’s telling you, “If you don't fix it now, it will be ruined forever.”

In theory, it should be so easy. The words are right there, firmly indented on the tip of your tongue, ready to let go when you are; you just have to say them. But then, there’s a few variables that make you hesitant: your sincerity, your expression, your tone. What should be a simple apology becomes an intense, thorough examination of human psychology, and you never prepared for it.

Still, it doesn’t hurt to try, and you’ll have to live with the consequences, one way or another.

“I’m sorry.”

She lifts an eyebrow, her eyes slowly widening with surprise. “What did you say?”

“I’m sorry.” You can’t hold your stare at her any longer because of shame, and tears are beginning to form on your eyes. It feels as if the light has been removed from you, and you don’t deserve to look at someone as angelic as her. She’s been sweet for the longest time, you’ve taken her kindness and patience for granted. Even worse, she’s younger than you, the only child in her family compared to you and your three siblings, yet she’s shown more maturity than you, with every resource and advantage handed to you on a silver spoon.

“Gosh, Zuha, you’re right. Why are you still here? I hate that you’re my girl, because you deserve way better than this. I know Kirin’s gonna give you that ‘I told you so’ comment when she finds out you had to clean out my damn room. No wonder I’m alone and I have no friends. I’m an irredeemable mess.”

You’re angry—not at her, but at yourself. Only now do you truly realize how deep of a pit you’ve dug yourself in. Even your parents couldn’t get you to open up like this. Maybe this is the way to make things right, but you’re certain she’ll be gone from your life at the top of the hour, no matter how much you cry and beg.

“I don’t care anymore. Leave.” You point your finger at the door, ashamed to show your grief-stricken face to her. It should have been a fun time for you both to strengthen your bonds, but it looks like you’ll be spending it contemplating and loathing in your sadness and weaknesses.

As you grab your fixed bags, you feel a gentle arm on your back. Turn around and she’s right behind you—smiling.

“I’m not going to leave you,” she says, tenderly, spinning you around then wrapping you in her arms, tugging you close.

Your cheeks burn a fiery red, caught unawares by her sudden affection. “What?”

“You’re a mess,” chides Kazuha, pulling you closer to her warmth. Her grin has grown as wide as her unending love. “But you’re my mess. You think I’ll break-up with you because of something as small as this? Gosh, why are you so overdramatic?”

It’s difficult to take it all in: the lowest lows to highest highs in a matter of minutes, especially when she’s peppering your face with a flurry of intimate kisses, and all of a sudden, you’re falling together on the bed, then she’s on top of you a moment later, but there’s still a lesson to be learned—at least you’ll save it for another day.

“Thirty minutes before we leave!” yells mom from the floor below, mildly sounding. Kazuha withdraws her face from yours, looks behind, checks the locked door once, then twice for good measure. Your hands are gripped on her back, past her denim jacket, and glued to her creamy skin.

“We should save it when we’re there,” you say, slightly lifting your head for a glance at the door, expressing worry. “I mean, we’re already showered and all—”

“Don’t care. I want it now.” Kazuha pins you back onto the sheets again, showers you with another round of loving pecks until she lands a passionate, deep one directly on your lips. Her hands are all over you, caressing your hair, down to your neck, on the fabric of your shirt. With nails so sharp, they can dig through your material and draw blood. You can’t really contend, not when you’re beneath her grip, and she can easily toss you around with her surprising level of strength.

A simple apology isn’t enough, and this is a form of compensation or penance, at least you think it is. You sink further into her kiss, hook your fingers on the hem of her denim jacket like hers on your clothes. The bed gently rumbles underneath you as she playfully rocks you while making out. She’s deeply engrossed in the smooch, like your lips are her primary source of life, and she’s determined to make sure anyone who sees knows who it belongs to.

Eventually, she does pull back, and you exchange a shedding of clothes. Kazuha lifts your shirt over her head, tosses it onto the floor to be completely forgotten. You do the same with her blue jacket; slide it down her shoulders to join your garment off the bed. Afterward, your eyes meet hers in an intimate, loving gaze. There’s less than half an hour on the clock before you have to leave, and you’re both aware of that, but when her angelic eyes are on yours, as if the light has returned to shine on you, time is the least of your concern.

Her lips press and stain yours, sealing its complete ownership to her. Then she marks you down to your jawline, neck, your bare chest, and belly, in that order, etching strawberry colored lipstick stains on your skin. With her face settling at the edge of your pants, her eyes snap wide at how close she is to your growing tent. So she looks at you, breathing tensely and faint from her love, waiting for your approval. Her smile is so innocent, so charming—a contrast to the eroticness slowly building up—that you can’t deny her request.

How could you say no to a woman with a sweet face like hers?

At the drop of your first nod, her fingers immediately seize your zipper and effortlessly slides it down, dragging your boxers along. Your erection springs up, and her eyes alight with awe, like it’s the first time she’s seen your cock. Slightly you lift your head up, only to be knocked back down to earth when she grabs your shaft with her hand, as if crushing you like a can.

Uttering a low, breathy groan, you mumble out, “Shit Z-Zuha, we don’t have a lot of time.”

“I know,” she says, that sweet, loving smile glazed on her features, loosening her grip on your cock a little, stroking you at a steady pace. “Just give me a minute.”

What should be a quick minute lasts a lot longer than you imagine. Your airy, prolonged sighs, mixed with the occasional gentle drop of her name are the only sounds that break the stillness radiating throughout the bedroom while Kazuha casually pumps you, forcing quick bursts of precum to spill onto her tender, but firm digits. It’s still relatively early in the day, and you haven’t had lunch yet, but you’re falling dizzier and dizzier, as if you’ve been directly under the hot sun for hours.

“Here I come,” she says, releasing your shaft from her hand. You hear her loud and clear, but you’re left spiraling from pleasure. She briefly hops off the bed to shed her jeans and underwear before she climbs atop you again. On her lips is a soft smile, suppressing a quiet giggle as you look weak beneath her.

Kazuha plants a kiss on your temple. It’s soft, but almost emphatic enough to lull you to sleep. Lining herself directly above your erection, her tunnel brushes against your tip, and you both shudder at the slightest touch of each other. Slowly but surely, she lowers her hips down, and you’re lying helplessly, watching as your length gradually disappears inside her. You’re not checking the time, and although her hands are pressed on your torso, you couldn’t waste another second without her pussy folded to your cock.

Completely impaled to your base, her eyes go shut, and her mouth hangs open, releasing a whiny expletive while her nails dig into your skin. Your eyes briefly go out as well, only to snap open at the mild, audible racket from the ground floor. Your relationship is openly supported by your family and hers, but they definitely won’t approve of this stage—at least not yet.

“Zuha,” you groan, fighting off the surge of pleasure from her suffocating pussy flexing on your cock. “We gotta stay—”

“Shhhhh.” Kazuha rasps, hinting a little hostility, shuffles a finger toward your lips while she acclimates to your hardness. She’s still soft-sounding, as always, but when it comes to sex, she transforms into completely different person, and it always catches you off-guard. “God, you’re stretching me out.”

Your family is still busy packing downstairs, as proven by the constant slam of the front door and luggage wheels rolling around. It’s a loud commotion, enough to block her whiny, lewd moans from detection. She’s atop you, using you as a toy and a conduit for her pleasure, and you’re on the opposite end, with the last of your will denying her, when you’ve been in the wrong—until now. So you finally give her control, and she kindly does to you in return. You’re connected by two pairs of hands placed on the other’s body: hers pressed on your chest as support, and yours on her slender, toned midriff that puts you to shame most of the time.

Her hips roll up and down at a slow and steady tempo, delicate and purposeful in stretching herself out with your entire length. She bites her lip, trying to repress her bliss; the immense wave of pleasure she feels with each drop onto your waist makes her scream. Even with the gradual roughness in her movements when it comes to riding you, she’s still graceful, mesmerizing, and hypnotizing, down to her soft, passionate expressions.

“Yes, yes, fuck that feels so good,” she says, tossing her head back gently, lifting her sleeveless shirt over her head within seconds, leaving her as naked as you. Your gaze is magnetized to her newly exposed chest, with her round, compact breasts with their stiff nipples attracting every bit of your attention. It’s only temporary, as she lifts herself before going down on you again, and you share a collective groan of bliss, with your eyes going dark. “I want this cock inside me all day long, that’s how good you fucking feel.”

Her fingers press back down to those familiar deep marks on your chest, still riding you at her tempo, like she’s got you on cruise control. She was always a slow love maker, always preferring the sex to be steady and drawn out, but if they weren’t always the best kind. At this point, you’re certain you’ll be left behind and forgotten, and she’ll still be grinding on you until the sun goes down, but you can’t deny how incredible how suffocating and wet her pussy feels, coating your cock liberally with her wet juices.

With your hands sliding down her arched back, you meet her halfway, reciprocating each slam of her hips with an upstroke of your cock. Your senses take in everything right in front of you: her constantly changing but still pleasure-ridden face, the endless stream of moans with profanities laced in between, and the steady sound of her ass slapping on your shaft. There’s little to make her change her mind, especially when she’s so into it, so into the act, that you might as well forget about leaving and prepare to stay home when she’s finally done with you.

“We’re almost leaving! Fifteen minutes!” shouts your dad from the ground floor, a timely distraction from the otherwise excessive pleasure drowning you. It doesn’t affect Kazuha in the slightest, and if anything, only seems to arouse and motivate her to do the opposite by firmly pressing you deeper onto your bed as it trembles with your erotic motions. Your bags are still in your room, and the sounds below are dying down, and so will your secret if you don’t keep track of the time.

“Zuha—” you try to blurt, only to be met with her familiar index finger blocking the passage between your lips. She refuses to stop until she’s filled to the brim, and she’ll get hers no matter what. Her eyes snap open, looks at the panicked expression on your face, then to the arms wrapped around her back. With her hand, she leads yours down to her supple, plump ass before planting a kiss on the bridge of your nose.

“I know,” she says, with a flattering, but charming and innocuous grin. She raises her hips and slams them down, makes you grunt sharply while keeping that cheeky smile on her face. She knows. She doesn’t want to. She has no intention to.

Even if she doesn’t outright say it, she’s practically forcing you into submission. Looks are so deceiving, yet you fall for her every single time—and with a cute, endearing face and personality like hers, why wouldn’t you?

The growing thumps on the stairs draw both your gazes to the bedroom door, and your heart is beating wildly from a mix of stress and pleasure. Your thoughts return to the bags placed on the side of the bed—reminder of the short time you have left—and you’re slapping yourself internally for not stopping her before it spiraled out of control. Then there’s Kazuha, bouncing and fucking herself on your cock, purposefully moaning with rising cadence in an act of defiance, going against everything you’ve thought about her.

“So—close,” she purrs, toying with your chest, giving it playful slaps, as her barely coherent words quickly fall by the wayside, returning to whines and needy mewls. Her urgency to release breaks her control, and her pace quickens; she’s crashing herself onto your cock, foregoing the slow, comfortable grind she’s natural with to chase that high a stone’s throw away.

Kazuha’s orgasm takes you suddenly, and her sweat filled face, once a realm higher than you, is suddenly inches apart from yours. Her body shudders and trembles, every muscle and nerve in her tensing up from such a powerful climax. The vicious grip of her sopping cunt, freshly drenched with waves of slick, drives you close to breaking point as well, intent on pumping all your hot, creamy seed into her.

She continues to moan and spew curses, albeit in decreasing tones, as her hips slow down, until her limber, slim figure falls right into your hands, quivering as her orgasm dies down. Realizing her hold on you has gone nonexistent, you muster up the strength to lift yourself off the bed. Ignore the puddle that has formed on the sheets. With a worn out Kazuha in your arms, you bring her with you to the other room, slamming it shut and locking the door once you’re inside.

“We’re almost leaving, you two! Hurry up!” says your dad as he takes the remaining luggage in front of your bedroom before going down the steps again. He remains seemingly naive to your sinful act performed behind closed doors, suppressed behind another layer of defense: your bathroom. You’re supposed to be cleaning up, but here you are, dirtying up your house even more.

“Yeah! We’re coming!” you yell out from inside the shower, briefly looking behind as you pump your hard cock frantically inside Kazuha’s tight walls. It’s a familiar but different position compared to the bed. Her slender legs are wrapped around your waist, and your cock is still buried deeply inside her, but you’re carrying her in your arms this time around, and you’re dictating the pace as you fuck your girlfriend into further submission, insistent to get one off in her before leaving.

Five minutes before the start of a new hour, your soaked watch tells. Forget it. You need yours too.

Fortunately, he doesn’t hear your girlfriend and the lewd, arousing way she says your name as you pound her at her most sensitive spots, even as it bounces off the bathroom walls. Sure, there’s also that shower raining down both your naked, sweaty bodies as additional blockage, but even the sound of her flesh slapping against yours is loud enough to cause suspicion from a wary member. Nevertheless, it doesn’t deter you from using Kazuha to your liking, without care for her comfort or her pleasure, only focused on indulging in her rapturous, silky heat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she cries in your ear, resorting to the most common word available to express her sexual arousal and elation. Her hands dig into your nape and your soaked hair, practically clinging to you as her life support. The way you both fucked each other was completely different, but this hits harder for her, and it accelerates her second climax ahead of yours. “Fuck—gonna—ah!”

Kazuha utters another sharp, deafening cry as you bring her back up to that high again. By some miracle, you don’t let the wetness make you slip; it only spurs you on. Pin her against the wall, still fucking her hard through her orgasm, resolute on setting yours off. Your soft mouth grows some fangs, marks her sensitive collarbone with a fresh, sore red coat. This is your way of getting back at her in the most subtle way—and possibly the least, with how strident she sounds.

She manages to gain the strength to forcefully turn your gaze to hers, trying to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, but you’re still thrusting in her, unwilling to turn down the roughness. The butterflies in your stomach grow with every agonizing second. You’re so fucking close, so ready to finally let go—

After the constant shaking of her tight figure, she recaptures you for another intimate kiss, and it’s what ultimately sets you off. Your tongue slips into her mouth as you give in, groaning in her as you release thick ropes of cum in succession. Penetrating her depths, you fill her with every drop of your seed, draining yourself empty inside her thirsty, greedy cunt.

“So warm. So full,” she mumbles, giving your lips a soft peck in appreciation as you come down from that euphoric, heavenly high.

You slump against the wall, going through post-orgasm exhaustion, with Kazuha still in your clutch. The noises that previously filled the bathroom are overtaken by the continuous, rushing flow of shower water, with your deep, heavy breaths in second place. Breaking the kiss, you rest your head against her reddened collarbone, having forgotten the urgency of time—and ignoring the incessant knocking on your bedroom door and shouting of your parents echoing beyond two layers of walls.

“Do you think they know?” she asks, clingy and shuddering but satiated.

Looking over your shoulder as the barrage of demanding, door breaking knocks continues, you chuckle. “I don’t think so.”

(A/N: Another fluffy-ish one, and Kazuha looks like one of the softest girls ever, so she deserves the fluff treatment. This was supposed to be another lengthy one-shot with way more story, but I was really fixated on one specific scene, which is what resulted in this fic. Next one's gonna be very story based, for sure ;) Thank you for reading!)

#smut #kpop smut #le sserafim #kazuha

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safety-writes-noms · 2 months

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Midnight Snack

Yay! We reached 200 followers so im just gonna put out a little short story for you guys as a thank you :D

This story has vore in it! It’s all sfw and nonsexual!!!! If you don’t like that, then just ignore this and click away.

Summary; Miguel hasn’t been taking care of himself lately so you decide to make sure he doesn’t keel over and die from exhaustion.

—

Now, you knew beforehand that Miguel is a man dedicated to his job, but this is unreasonable.

“A week?” He avoids your probing gaze expertly as you frown at him from his desk. “That’s how long you haven’t slept? Do you know how bad that is??”

”I’m busy. I can’t sleep.” He responds with a little shrug, as if it isn’t that big of a deal. As if his skin isn’t worryingly pale and the shadows under his eyes stretch deep. If it weren’t for the fact that you had forced him to eat on a fixed schedule, you assume he would’ve also skipped breakfast, lunch and dinner regularly. While his determination is admirable, it’s seriously worrying to see him in this disheveled state.

His hair is all mussed up and his eyes are blank, staring uncomprehendingly at the bright monitors covering the entirety of his desk. You scowl, crossing your arms as he steadily ignores you.

”Miguel! Come on, big guy, look at me,” You tap one of his hands and he tears his eyes away from the holographic report to stare at you. “This can’t be healthy. You gotta take a break, man.”

His brows furrow.

“I can’t. I have to — I have to make sure everything’s fine. Everyone.” He shakes his head stubbornly and you can’t help but huff. He’s pausing, blinking slowly and dragging his eyes back open laboriously as he struggles to function normally, much less hold up a conversation. He’s probably only staying awake through sheer will and spite.

“You can do that after you’ve gotten a good rest, Miguel. You’re gonna end up collapsing or something.” If you could, you’d grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Maybe that’d get some sense into him. Unfortunately, since you’re about the size of his pinky, you settle for pushing at his hand.

He barely pays you any mind, though he seems pretty out of it in general. He’s not listening. He’ll run himself to the ground, and while it’s not your job to care for him, you’re going to anyway since that’s what a good friend does. Plus it would kinda suck if the leader of the Spider Society died from sleep deprivation.

“Lyla. Turn the computer screens off, but leave the lights dimmed at 20%,” You call and the glowing hologram flickers to life next to you.

“Aye aye, Captain,” She salutes cheerfully and the bright orange interfaces go dark. Lyla promptly glances at Miguel and grimaces. “Oh. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, boss?”

Miguel musters up a vague frown, bracing himself heavily against the metal of his desk.

“Hey! I needed those. Turn them back on.” He bristles but the words are lukewarm. He has to be completely exhausted because he barely even fights back. Lyla clicks her tongue disapprovingly.

”Nuh uh, I don’t think so.” She wags a finger at him. He bares fangs, though he looks resigned. That’s a pretty good sign. Means he’s pretty close to giving up.

”I made you.”

”Actually, Xina did.”

“Lyla — “

You clear your throat as loudly as you can and Miguel turns to look at you, irritated.

“This is your fault,” He mutters sullenly, perfectly audible to your ears. Unrepentant, you grab at one of his fingers again and tug until he grudgingly flips his hand, showing his palm. You hop in easily, keeping steady as he carefully brings you up to his face so you can feel the full extent of his watery scowl. ”Are you happy with yourself?”

“I’ll be happy when you decide to go to sleep.” You bite back and he sighs loudly.

“If I sleep for a couple of hours, will you get off my case?” He asks exhaustively and you nod your head grudgingly after a moment of contemplation. A couple of hours isn’t the best but you’ll negotiate with him later.

Lyla claps her hands together happily.

“Yay! This is great,” She turns to you and glitches up to you, holding her hand out. You take it and the two of you shake in mutual respect. Miguel just watches with a defeated sort of air. For a man who’s usually so stiff and stern, it’s only at the dead of night that he lets himself crumble. You find it somewhat touching that he trusts you enough to show his flaws, even though he pushes against your care most of the time.

“You’ll both be the death of me,” He groans and Lyla sticks her tongue out at him.

“I’m actually trying to keep you alive, thanks,” She snarks back before vanishing in a dizzying whirl of golden sparks. Her disembodied voice echoes from the ceiling. “Also, you’re locked out of the computer system for the rest of the night — unless it’s an emergency that needs your assistance. Have a good night, boss!”

Miguel’s head snaps up at her last words before he just sits down heavily in his creaky swivel chair. His head comes down with a loud thunk, the hand with you in it still held aloft. You wince. That couldn’t have felt good.

You hop off easily, absorbing the impact with a roll as you poke at his cheek.

“This is no place to take a nap,” You scold. “Think of the back pain you’ll feel when you wake up tomorrow.”

He makes a muffled noise of annoyance, but pulls himself up regardless. Miguel sets his hand down in front of you again, which you clamber into quickly. He raises it up to his shoulder, and you take residence there as he begins walking over to the cushy couch shoved in the corner of his rather massive office. The kids had smuggled it in somehow and it just never left. Now, it’s main purpose is for movie nights and the occasional nap or two.

He slowly lugs his body onto the cushions with a quiet grunt, making sure that you don’t get knocked off with the motion. Even when he’s half asleep and tired out of his mind, he’s still unimaginably careful while handling you. While it’s appreciated now, it can be a bit stifling when out on the field. You just happen to come from a universe smaller than his, you’re not made of glass.

”Two hours. Then I’m going back to work.” He says, phasing away his suit to reveal rumpled but soft looking clothes underneath. It’s some sort of futuristic fashion with a high open collar and unimaginably soft fabric.

“A whole night.”

”Three hours.”

”A whole entire night.” You insist stubbornly and he blinks.

”… Five hours.”

“Miguel.”

He huffs, aiming a glare at you with little to no heat.

“I can’t take that long of a break. I have things to fix and repair. And missions to coordinate.”

You raise an unamused eyebrow.

“The other spiders can take care of that, Miguel. You have hundreds of incredibly smart people who are willing and eager to help. And Lyla can do that last one. She’s connected to everything.” Miguel still looks hesitant so you decide to sweeten the deal and play your trump card. “Look. I’m tired too, y’know? If you agree to sleep until morning, I’ll let you eat me.”

He’s silent for the count of five before he shifts slightly.

“Right now?” He raises a brow at you and you nod.

“Yup. I don’t really mind it, y’know. I think it’s comfy.” Miguel looks faintly confused but seems to be considering his choices.

“… Fine. A whole night’s sleep.” He finally settles on, and you slip down from his shoulder to his chest, squinting through the darkness you know he can see clearly through. Miguel hesitates for a moment before gently grabbing you from between his thumb and forefinger, lifting you up to his head.

You dangle from his hold, blinking as he apparently works things out in his head, sharp eyes examining you carefully despite the fact that he has gulped you down before with relative ease.

“Alright. The watch will make sure you’re fine. Just call me or send me an alert through it and I’ll get you out. Got it?” He asks and you nod eagerly.

He opens his maw wide and though you can’t really see in the dim light, you can see the yawning abyss of darkness in front of you, highlighted by sharp white teeth and fangs. His breath whooshes over you, making shivers wrack through your body despite the relative warmth of it. You reach up and tap one of the fingers holding you up, signaling that you’re ready and he makes a quiet hum of acknowledgement.

Miguel inhales slowly and slowly lowers you into his mouth. The first sensation you get is wet. Saliva soaks into your suit and you slip a little, bracing a hand against the slippery soft flesh of his tongue. The second is temperature. Everything is moving around you, so wonderfully alive and warm. His tongue curves underneath you, the powerful muscle shifting so it can wrap around you loosely like an oversized blanket.

His mouth shuts with a quiet click of teeth and all of the faint light from outside is cut off, leaving you within the darkness of Miguel’s body. You go slack and still, letting him absentmindedly taste you, push you from one cheek to the other subconsciously.

You feel him soak you in spit, not protesting or fighting back as he readies you for the journey below. Miguel is still gentle, careful. Nothing is too rough or hurts at all, even when his tongue tentatively presses you up against the hard palate of the roof of his mouth. After a long moment, he tilts his head back, just barely.

You slide toward his throat, squeezing down the tight fleshy tube accompanied by a couple of large gulps to help get you down entirely. The sound of his swallows is loud and for a moment it’s all you hear as you’re moved down. It’s not a bad pressure and you’re mostly used to it as you slip down from his esophagus and into his belly.

And man, it’s so much warmer here and also so much more comfortable. The soft flesh here contracts slightly around your body as you find a comfortable position to lie in, tucking yourself against a wall with a yawn. You press a hand against the mass of warmth and squishiness under your fingers, blinking when it ripples across the entire expanse of his stomach.

It’s quiet for a moment before Miguel clears his throat, his voice oddly loud and muffled at the same time.

”You okay? Need me to get you out?” He asks, and you make a lazy hum in response.

“No, I’m fine, man,” You sink deeper into the comforting warmth and you hear something like a quiet chuckle from above. It’s good to hear him sound relaxed for once. God knows he needs some relaxation anyway.

“Okay,” he sounds tired and everything is still before your surroundings shift and you tumble somewhat quickly into the side wall of his stomach. He must’ve turned over on his side. ”… Thank you. You care too much about me.”

You frown, picking up on his meaning quickly.

”Well yeah, you’re my friend. Besides, if I was working myself to death, you would’ve done the same, right?” You say and he huffs, laying a palm over his stomach. You can feel it in the way the slimy-squishy walls indent around you.

“It’s not the same.”

”How so?”

”It just isn’t.” Miguel says firmly and you roll your eyes.

”Agree to disagree. Also, go to sleep! I have no idea how you’ve stayed awake this long. We’ll talk about that tomorrow.” You promise, pressing your hand against the closest “wall”. He makes a quiet noise, but it’s quickly drowned out by the familiar sound of rumbling vibrating through his entire body. The volume of his contented purrs are quiet enough that a person outside would have to strain their ears to hear it.

From where you are right now, the comforting noise is steady and somewhat loud. It’s not overwhelming though — it just blends into the other sounds of his stomach growling and his other organs working somewhere else in his body. You stretch and settle down with a quiet yawn.

Then everything shifts around you, contracting and moving to cradle you securely in complete warmth and comfort.

“Goodnight.” Miguel’s low voice echoes from above and you close your eyes.

“G’night.”

You fall asleep that way and he quickly follows, a hand settled carefully over his stomach and fully content.

#extreme cuddling #nonsexual vore #Sw writes fics #safe vore #soft vore #s: spidervores #spidervore #spidervores

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naminethewriter · 2 years

Text

Hurt No One Knew About Chapter Three: Into the Imagination

Masterpost | First | Previous | Next | Ao3

Story Summary: Logan has been acting weird for the past few weeks and the others aren’t sure what to do about it. When Janus appears looking for Remus they strike a deal: He figures out what’s going on with Logan and afterwards they’ll help search for Remus.

Turns out the two problems are more connected to each other than anyone thought.

Content Warnings: Remus’ side of the Imagination, Monster attacks, Zombies

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Patton and Virgil catch up with the other two in Roman’s room where the portal to his side of the Imagination is located. It takes the shape of a window with a dial on the side that Roman was currently turning causing the scene in the window to change with each click.

“Why did you choose a window anyway?” Virgil asks. “It’s so annoying to climb through.”

“I was inspired by romanticism! It was a time of escapism and a favorite motive was people looking out windows. With the bleak interior reflecting the harsh reality and through the window were colorful landscapes and sceneries you wish you could visit but you’re stuck inside… It seemed very fitting to me.”

“Do… do you feel trapped in here, Roman?” Patton’s voice is small and Roman stops turning the dial for a moment to look at him with a reassuring smile.

“Not most of the time. But sometimes, when I sit at my desk too long, trying to come up with ideas and nothing seems to be as good as I want it to be, I like to escape to the imagination. Being there feels very freeing, anything I create there doesn’t need to be perfect which is something I often feel with ideas I present to Thomas.” Patton tries to say something but Roman holds up his hand, going back to the dial. “I know they don’t need to be and none of you expect it from me, but it’s not a feeling I can easily shake. Taking a break doing whatever I want in the imagination often helps.”

“That’s good, kiddo. I’m glad you found a healthy coping mechanism.”

“Thanks, padre!” With one final click, Roman steps away from the dial. “There we are! The portal closest to the border between Remus’ realm and mine!”

Looking out the window they can see a large grassy open field with wildflowers blooming everywhere. The sky is clear and blue, no clouds in sight. Roman pushes the window open and holds out his hand towards Patton.

“Shall we?”

Patton accepts his hand, giggling. “Sure!”

With Roman’s help he climbs through, then Virgil after him and Roman even offers Janus his help. He accepts without showing how surprised he is with the gesture.

On the other side they find themselves in the field that was indeed as empty as it seemed from inside. As far as they can see there is nothing but grass and flowers. The sun shines down on them, but its warmth is not at all scorching but very pleasing. If their situation would be any different, Janus would be very tempted to lie down and take a nap. But they have friends to find.

“Welcome in my realm,” Roman announces with a bow after he climbed through the portal himself, which, from this side, looks like a window just hanging in the air. He isn’t certain but Janus figures that it vanishes if it closes or maybe simply goes invisible. He would need to ask about that later.

“It’s… empty,” Virgil comments, looking around.

“Yeah, while this is technically still my side, it functions more as no man’s land. The field stretches along the entire border and I forbid all my creations from coming here so they don’t accidentally wander into Remus’ realm. It’s happened before and I rather not repeat the experience.” He shudders before continuing. “This is also the place where Remus and I fight all out wars though the scenery looks quite different then.” They remain silent for a moment, processing the information before Roman claps his hands.

“Anyway! Gear. We’ll need a vehicle, weapons, and some provisions since we don’t know how long this will take.” He waves his hand and suddenly there’s a kitchen next to them. “Patton, would you please prepare those? The cabinets will have whatever you need, just think about it when you open them.”

“Alright. Verge, care to help me?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Wonderful!” As the two get to work, Roman turns to Janus.

“I would like your help with the car since you’re more familiar with the terrain over there. I can sense where Remus is but not the best path to take us there.”

“Very well.”

With a nod, Roman summons sketches of different modes of transportation and explains them to Janus who in turn comments about how effective they would probably be. Once they settle on a design and Roman prepares to create it, Janus speaks up.

“Not that I’m complaining, but you are more cooperative than I thought you would be.”

Roman glances at him before returning his eyes to the sketch in front of him. “If this was only about finding my brother, I wouldn’t be, but this is now also about Logan and I’m worried about him. Regardless of how exactly that robot functioned, it couldn’t have replaced him so well without direct contact to him. Now that we took it out, I don’t know what state he’s in. He was…” He stops for a moment to take a deep breath before trying again.

“He was already hurting. And we didn’t know how to help and so we ended up doing nothing which got us here. I’ve been hard on him, I know, and I don’t feel good about it, but I want to be a better friend to him. And that starts by finding him and making sure he’s okay. If we need your help to get there, then so be it. Doesn’t mean I like you.”

“I wouldn’t assume so.” Roman stares at him for a moment longer before nodding and starting on the process of creating the car. Janus watches, deep in thought.

He hadn’t thought that Roman was so self-aware. He had noticed the tension between the sides lately, of course he had. And it worries him because he doesn’t know how exactly that influences Thomas. He knows that he’s partially responsible since his recent appearances caused a lot of said tension, especially between Patton and Roman – though they seem to be doing better with their focus on Logan currently – and he hates to admit that maybe he hadn’t seen it coming though he should have. Roman’s entire world view is based on Patton’s guidance so if he changes his mind, that will inevitably lead to Roman losing himself.

But it seems that Roman is working on building himself up again and Janus is relieved to know that. It does make it painfully obvious that he might need to work on himself as well. And he hates to admit to his failures.

Roman deserves an apology from him, however, so he makes an internal note to find a chance for a private conversation with him after they clear up their current situation.

When Patton and Virgil join them a few minutes later, Roman is almost done with the car. They had chosen a pickup truck, with two seats mounted on the open deck, that would not be slowed down by rough terrain too much. It wouldn’t allow them to drive through forests, but Janus advised to avoid them if possible anyway since they house many of Remus’ fiercest creatures. Roman will drive, Janus will be in the passenger seat giving directions if necessary while Patton and Virgil will be on the deck ready to shoot anything that approaches them. It was a rather simple plan but sometimes that’s enough.

“We made sandwiches,” Patton announces as he comes to a stop next to Janus. He pats the strap of his backpack hanging off his shoulder.

“Thank you, I’m sure they will come in handy.”

“They already did! I was pretty hungry.”

“Not surprising. You hardly touched your breakfast,” Janus comments.

“Yeah,” Patton says in a sad tone. “I think we were all so worried this morning that we couldn’t stomach anything. And I’m still worried! But we have a plan now and it’s going to be a rough path, right? So, I wanted to be prepared.”

Janus lays a hand on his shoulder. “That’s good, Patton. I’m sure it will be easier to concentrate now.” Patton smiles at him while Virgil next to him scoffs but doesn’t say anything. Janus decides to ignore it, starting another fight with him will only wear them down more.

“Aaaaaaaaand, done!” Roman calls, wiping sweat from his brow. “It should be durable enough to last the trip, even if we get hit a couple times. Though it would be better if we weren’t, of course.”

“Wow, princey,” Virgil comments, “you made something that’s plain and not a total eyesore. I’m proud of you.” Indeed, the vehicle is mostly beige and black, not even the seats were red or glittery.

“It hurts the designer in me, but this is a stealth mission in the end. Flashy colors and the like would only attract unwanted attention.” He says it with a dramatic huff that gets Virgil to roll his eyes and Janus can tell the fondness between them. Playfully jabbing at each other, something he had once done with Virgil himself, but that time was over now. He quickly speaks up to divert from the topic lest he thinks about it too much.

“We have the vehicle and the provisions, then. I believe we are still missing weaponry, is that right?”

“Right,” Roman nods. He crouches down and stares at the grass for a moment before he waves his hand once and four gun like devices appear before him. They remind Janus of laser guns but with glass pipes on the side through which light blue liquid is visible. Roman gathers them up and gives one to each of them.

“What are they?” Virgil asks, turning it around in his hands. Next to him, Patton does the same.

“Freeze rays. Anything you hit with it won’t be able to move for a few hours. Other than that, they’re harmless. The creatures won’t remember anything, and it shouldn’t cause any damage.”

“How merciful,” Janus hums, weighing the gun in his hand. “I expected you to take the opportunity to get rid of whatever comes in a 20 feet radius from us.”

“I may not like them, but those creatures are very important to Remus. And as long as they don’t come into my realm, I don’t have a problem with them. We’re invading their territory, it’s only fair that we leave them be as best as we can.”

Again, Janus is surprised at how thoughtful Roman is being. He glances at Patton and Virgil and sees his surprise reflected in their expressions as well. But none of them could say anything before Roman continued.

“Anyway, Patton and Verge, you’ll be on the back. The seats here are mounted on, so even if we have to do some maneuvering, you won’t fly off.” He climbs on and waves for them to follow. Janus watches from the side as Roman explains some buttons on the seats’ sides. “These are for spinning the seats around, so you aren’t stuck looking in only one direction and they can move up and down, but I would be more careful with those.”

“Button controls, really?” Virgil asks with a raised brow.

“I can disable them if you would rather spin around uncontrollably, Emo-go-round.”

Virgil rolls his eyes but doesn’t protest further. He and Patton take their seats and Roman checks their seat belts to make sure they’re secure.

“There are straps on your guns, so you don’t lose them. They work just like a Wii remote, so please make sure you fasten them properly.” He holds up his own gun to demonstrate. “The trigger is over here, and they are equipped with an auto aim system, so they lock onto the energy signature every one of Remus’ creatures give off. So you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Doesn’t everything on his side have that energy?” Janus pipes up. “Since he created the land and plants and everything as well.”

“It’s a different kind of energy whether they are animated or not, so grass and stuff won’t interfere. A plant monster of some kind would be hit though.”

“Wow, you really thought of everything, kiddo!” Patton beams and Roman smiles.

“I aim to please.” He bows and Patton giggles. “We really do need to get going though. Is there anything else you two need?”

“No, I don’t think so. Verge?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Wonderful! Janus, if you would be so kind and store our provisions in front? I’ll get ready for driving.”

“I am never kind,” Janus smirks but goes over and grabs the backpack that Patton had sat down before climbing on. He places it at his feet as he takes his place on the passenger seat. Roman finishes adjusting the mirrors to his satisfaction before taking a deep breath.

“Alright. We’re taking off to save Logan!”

“And Remus,” Janus adds quietly as Patton loudly cheers from the back. If the two of them needed saving in the first place.

Roman turns on the engine and they are off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It takes them over ten minutes to arrive at Remus’ side. And while there had been fewer and fewer flowers the further they got and the grass slowly got shorter and more brown than green, the border was easy to see. Because the grass suddenly disappeared entirely and instead gave way to a field of bones. Bones of all kinds, large, small, thick, thin, curved, straight, everything. Still, the human skulls stand out for some reason. The crunching sound their car made as it drives across them makes Patton shudder.

And then the bones start to move.

Patton stares horrified as a monster forms out of the bones, first its head, then its body and then a large hand that it raises to swipe at them. Unable to move, Patton squeezes his eyes shut.

But they don’t get hit.

Because Virgil is more than adept at reacting to Remus’ monsters and he quickly fires a shot at it. With a crunch, it freezes in place. Patton, hearing that, opens his eyes and gapes at the unmoving, colossal form they are quickly leaving behind since Roman doesn’t slow down for a moment.

“You good?” Virgil asks though he doesn’t look at Patton but keeps his eyes on their surroundings to see if more creations pop up.

“Yeah, thanks. Just surprised me.”

“Well, that’s kinda Remus’ specialty, so you better get used to that. Fire at anything that moves and we should be fine.”

“Anything? But there might be creatures that aren’t hostile.”

“Unlikely. And even if there are, you wouldn’t be able to identify them. Just ‘cause something looks harmless, doesn’t mean they are. Especially if Remus made it. I found a cat in here once and started petting it and it seemed normal for a bit until it started spitting acid. Almost melted my leg off.”

Again, the bones start to move but Virgil shoots the spot before anything can even form.

“Plus, Roman said these things are harmless,” he says, holding up the gun. “So even if there’re peaceful creatures, they won’t get hurt. It’s less risky for us if we just freeze them all. We don’t need to worry about ammunition, right, princey?” He yells the last part so Roman can hear him in the front.

“Right! They’ll reload themselves, too!”

Another movement, this time on Patton’s side and with only a moment’s hesitation, he shoots. Because Virgil is right, and he can’t risk them getting delayed any longer to find Logan. He still apologizes in his head and wonders if they feel the cold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They drive like that for hours. Across swamps, a field of corpses that is even worse than the bones in Patton’s opinion – especially when they start moving and suddenly there’s zombies everywhere and Roman has no choice but run a lot of them over while the other three shoot as many as they can – Janus has to guide them around a forest, a large lake with a very angry octopus that is clever enough to avoid their lasers for a while by throwing other sea creatures in the path of the ray until Virgil finally hits it, and a huge gorge with only one bridge that somehow holds their car.

Eventually they make it to a desert. The sun shines down on them mercilessly, and Roman has to stop for a moment to conjure up goggles, face masks and hats for them which takes him quite a while since they were deep in Remus’ realm by this point.

“It shouldn’t be much longer,” he reassures the others as he hands out the equipment. “We are getting quite close. And it’s pulling downwards, so I think he’s underground and we’ll be able to get out of this heat!”

“Great! Then get moving before I sweat out all the liquid in my body!” Virgil huffs. Despite his complaints, he refuses to take off his hoodie. Roman rolls his eyes.

“I’m going, I’m going.” He climbs back into the driver’s seat and glances over to Janus quickly who hasn’t said a word since the desert came into view. “No snarky remarks from you? I’m surprised.”

Janus hums instead of answering, his gaze locked onto the view in front of them.

“Seriously, you are kind of freaking me out. Anything we have to worry about going further?”

“I know very little about this area. Remus has told me that he hadn’t done much here yet and that it’s pretty boring. I found that suspicious since he rarely creates such huge areas without some kind of purpose in mind, but he didn’t seem willing to talk about it, so I let it slide. If he’s here, I assume he was hiding something from me though he did not lie to me when he told me about it.” Roman doubts that Janus’ noticed but while he was talking, he drew out the ‘s’ which he rarely does in front of them. He suspects that the other might be more worried than he tried to let on so far.

“Well, let’s find out what that something is then, shall we?”

“Indeed, we shall.”

They drive for another fifteen minutes before a pyramid becomes visible in the distance and it takes them another twenty to reach it. In that time, they don’t see any other signs of life, not on the ground and not in the sky. There is only sand and the sun bearing down on them. The atmosphere is heavy with the only sound being the car.

Roman slowly drives around the huge structure, looking for the entrance. It looms over them, making them feel small and nervous. Virgil is rotating his seat around, convinced that there must be a monster around that is guarding the place. Patton lets him, he has a bad feeling about it, too.

Janus is the one to spot the entrance first.

“Over there.” He points ahead of them where Roman can indeed see an alcove that could be it. By now they are in the shadow of the structure making the temperature more endurable for them all.

Roman stops the car in front of the alcove that he and Janus now could see indeed turns into a tunnel leading further inside.

“Alright, seems like this is our stop!” He calls. “I can feel Remus inside.” He and Janus climb out of their seats, taking the backpack with their provisions with them, and meet up with Patton and Virgil who have gotten out of their seats as well.

“Any idea what’s inside?” Virgil asks Janus. He shakes his head as he hands the backpack back to Patton.

“No. I’ve never seen this place before and Remus didn’t tell me about it either.”

“Great. So, we’re basically entering this thing that is specifically designed to be a giant trap without a plan. Just wonderful.”

“It’s not ideal, but there isn’t really anything we can do about it,” Patton says, trying to sound positive but not even fooling himself. “We should go far enough to get out of these winds and eat and drink. Gathering our strength before facing what awaits us inside.”

“Wonderful idea, padre! Let’s take a bit of a rest before continuing.”

They carefully enter the tunnel with Roman going first, Virgil behind him, then Janus and Patton taking the rear. The wind doesn’t follow them very far and only a few feet in they take their rest, distributing the sandwiches and bottles of water Patton and Virgil had prepared. The latter keeps one hand on his laser, remaining vigilant for any oncoming attackers. But they aren’t undisturbed and soon are ready to push further.

The tunnel is long and dark. Their laser guns give off a light glow from the liquid inside. It doesn’t illuminate their path but let’s them keep track of each other. They stay silent and hope that their hearing might alert them of any creatures. Their footsteps echo eerily through the hall.

Roman keeps one hand on the wall to his left, Virgil doing the same behind him on the right, so they make sure to not miss any openings. It is quite a surprise then when the wall ends. Roman stops but not early enough to not activate something as torches ignite suddenly and a large room opens up before them.

It is easily forty feet across and twenty feet high. A large pillar stands in the middle of the room and there are hieroglyphs on it as well as all the walls. Except they aren’t really hieroglyphs but depictions the sides and Thomas in past videos in the style of hieroglyphs. And without realizing it, they are all drawn to different scenes. Roman wanders over to the depiction of the trial they held before the wedding with him as the judge. Virgil walks to a scene before his acceptance where he taunts Thomas. Patton spots his transformation into a frog, attacking Janus and hitting Thomas instead.

Janus stands before the pillar. There is Logan, finger pointed to the side at something he couldn’t see from his position, and his eyes are glowing orange.

Then a cracking sound startles them all out of their trances.

“Shit! We shouldn’t split up!” Virgil yells, trying to get to Roman who’s closest to him but it’s too late.

Underneath each of their feet, the floor falls away and they all plummet into darkness.

#namiswriting #Hurt No One Knew About #Chapter 3: Into the Imagination #platonic romoxiety #platonic moceit #ts patton #patton sanders #ts virgil #virgil sanders #ts roman #roman sanders #ts janus #janus sanders #remus' side of the imagination #monster attacks #multichapter fic #sanders sides #fanfiction #reblogs are appreciated

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awellboiledicicle · 1 year

Text

“April, a word?” They continued scribbling away in their notebook as if Jon hadn’t just called them from his doorway directly across from their desk. He cleared his throat. “Now?”

“Engorge.”

“.... what?”

They blinked at him over the top of their roll top desk, though their smirk was rather obvious.

“You asked for a word.”

“In my office. About a statement.”

“Well, why didn’t you say?” He tried his very best to not twitch too much in annoyance while they ambled their way around to join him. “Which one?”

“The one from staff sergeant--”

“Oh, the piper! That’s a good one.”

Jon, for what it was worth, managed to not outwardly grumble as they waltzed past into his office and took a seat. He’d not intended them to sit down. He’d intended for them to stand there, answer his question, and then get back to work. He did not yet know that was not how the archive functions.

“It’s... something.” Stiffly, he returned to his own chair and sat down. He did his best to ignore the deep feeling of discomfort that followed April turning their attention from his desk, to himself. “Do you know why it’s in the section from the early aughts?”

They chewed at their lip and became very interested in the corner of his office for a moment. Then, rather startlingly, they clapped their hands.

“Afghanistan! Or Iraq. We-- er, the US and whoever i guess-- kicking around in the middle east probably stirred the ol’ piper up. Or something close enough to it.” At his look of confusion, they shrugged. “Just a guess.”

“There’s no literal Piper, April.”

“Must be.” They gestured to the file, expression amused. “Wilfred met it.”

“I...” He quickly decided that he did not have the energy to argue about the existence of personifications of war with them. He rubbed at his forehead and sighed. “Fine, sure, whatever. Why, exactly, would it be grouped like that? Or are you saying she grouped all war statements and these got separated?”

With a sigh of their own, April went back to staring at him in their very specific way that made him fidget.

“I’m saying that you could probably tie them together from personifications, war, the sociopolitical climate of the decade, so on. Or maybe she was just reading them at the same time and none of us could be assed to sort it back into the old as fuck section.” Another shrug at his look of disbelief. “Look, i know you think we’ve been down here watching TV and eating bonbons for a decade, but sometimes the standing order was ‘i will find it if i need it’ or ‘make it hard on Elias’.”

“Why in gods name would hampering Elias be the standing order?”

At this they got very, very still for a moment. After a slight shudder, they shook their head.

“Gertrude was a very particular woman. Very picky about her archive. I expect you’ll get super picky about who can and can’t get into the statements too! Now,” They focused in rather directly on his face and he had to concentrate on not trying to move away. If April noticed, they didn’t seem to react. “Until you’re further into your little digitization spree, it’s not going to matter what one you pull first. You’re going to have us all chase down leads on them all anyway, so the where you found them doesn’t matter.”

This time, he didn’t particularly try to hide his scowl.

“It does, in fact, matter! Just because Gertrude couldn’t manage this archive doesn’t mean I will take the same lazy approach! Everything needs to be in order. And, as Mr. Delano seems loath to help in any meaningful capacity, the burden of seniority falls squarely on yourself and Mr. Shelley. Meaning each and every error and filing mistake falls upon your shoulders.” Crossing his arms, he raised an eyebrow. “Is this understood?”

To his dismay, they seemed more amused than intimidated by his declaration. Thankfully for his ego, they did him the service of nodding.

“Gotcha, Jon.” They stood with a stretch and headed for the door. He could have, he supposed, pointed out that he hadn’t dismissed them. He opted to not fight that battle. “Have fun reading.”

“...right.”

#eldritch bingo au

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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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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

Friends To Arranged Marriage To...Wait, How Many Kids?

Bruce Wayne x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Y'all ever write a self-indulgent Friends To Lovers fic? 'Cause that's what this is. Enjoy! -Thorne

It wasn’t unusual for her to suddenly appear in his office. She did it most days. Okay, it was more like every day but that’s not important. The fact is, she showed up and he wasn’t at all the least bit surprised when she barged through the office door and slammed it behind her.

“Morning,” he murmured, taking his eyes off the screen but a moment to lock them with hers.

“Good morning, Bruce,” she responded with a polite smile. “We need to talk.”

That wasn’t unusual either. When she came to the office it was because she wanted to either complain about something going on or because she was bored and didn’t have anything to do, so badgering her best friend seemed like the best option. It wasn’t, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“What do we need to talk about?” Bruce questioned, clicking at the mouse until his screen loaded.

“Something important. Something especially important.” She replied and with one hand reached behind her and flipped the lock on his door.

Now that was unusual. And Bruce saw this going one of two ways and he hoped it wasn’t the first way that involved her pulling a gun.

“Okay,” he said and watched her out of the corner of his eye as waltzed around his desk and perched herself on the corner. “Am I in trouble, (Y/N)?”

“If you disagree with me, you will be,” she retorted and she started fumbling in her tote.

“You sound serious,” Bruce noted.

(Y/N) harrumphed. “I am quite possibly the most serious I’ve been in years.” She pulled out three manila folders and handed them to him, watching as he opened the first and started reading through it.

He didn’t say anything as he opened the others and read them but frowned when he set them aside and went back to his computer.

“I’ve already planned on a new secretary, (Y/N).”

She watched him with careful eyes and explained, “Those aren’t secretary files, Bruce. They’re marriage candidates.”

At that, his entire body went rigid and ever so slowly he drew his gaze from the screen back to her, staring her straight in the eyes.

“I…beg your pardon?” he asked as if not understanding what she’d just said.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and picked up the files. “Each of these women are successful elites from either Metropolis, Star, or Central City. You have arranged marriage meetings with them Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday to decide which one you want to marry.”

This was happening way too fast, and he still didn’t know what “this” was.

“I’m not opposed to marriage, (Y/N), but why?”

She pointed to the picture on his desk, and he briefly glanced at it. Him, Dick, and Alfred on Christmas morning last year.

“Dick needs a mother.” She was never one to mince her words. “A father can raise a son, but the boy needs a mother’s love too, Bruce.”

“I think you’re a bit out of line here.” He remarked, brows pulling together. “We’re fine at the manor.”

“Bruce…please don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not a soft man. You’re hard edges and firmness, and while that isn’t a bad thing, Dick needs a mother who can be the parent that isn’t firm. He needs a mother’s guiding hand.”

She handed him the files again. “I’ve met each of these women. They’re good women who will make wonderful wives and even better mothers.” She stared at him. “You should know how important it is for a boy to have a mother.”

Bruce was on his feet in an instant, in front of her, eyes narrowed into a glare as he bit out, “(Y/N), now you’re out of line.”

“Really?” she challenged, not at all threatened by his towering figure. “Look my in the eye and tell me which parent you miss more. Thomas…or Martha?”

“I miss both of my parents. Every day.”

“And I don’t doubt that. But I know you miss Martha the most. Isn’t she the one you promised to save Gotham for?” (Y/N) questioned and his mouth snapped shut, jaw clenching tightly as he averted his eyes because he knew she was right.

She reached out and rested a hand on his forearm, forcing his eyes to hers once more; her gaze softened and she murmured, “You miss your mother more than the world, Bruce. How do you think Dick feels every night when he goes to sleep? Fathers are the protectors for their children, but mothers are the comforters—there are going to be things that you can’t help him with, but a woman can.”

(Y/N) gazed at him and pulled her hand away. “At least go and meet them,” she requested and when he didn’t say anything, she sighed and picked up her tote, making her way to the door.

She flipped the lock and paused, glancing over her shoulder to say, “At least think about what I’ve said, Bruce. For Dick…and for you.” He met her eyes and she added, “I think getting married would be good for you too.”

He nodded, and since that was all they could hope for, she left the office and Bruce collapsed into his chair, turning around to stare out the window.

***

His theory that she would show up Friday evening proved true when she waltzed into his office and took a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk, delicately crossing one of her legs over the other.

“How’d the interviews go?” she asked, not even bothering to ask him how his day was or how his week had been.

“My day was great, (Y/N), thanks for asking,” he mocked with a glare and she waved it off.

“Interviews, Bruce. How’d they go.”

He let out a sigh. “They went well. Each of them was polite and kind.”

“And?” (Y/N) gestured for him to continue.

“And nothing. That’s it.”

She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Seriously? You just met them for a singular purpose and all you’ve got it, they’re polite and kind?” She glared at him. “What’d you talk about?”

Bruce sighed again and reclined in his office chair. “Humanitarian works, college days, high society—you know, the usual.”

(Y/N) gave him an unamused look. “Did any ask for a second date?”

“All of them in fact.”

“Did you agree?”

“No.”

Her head lolled back, and she glared at the ceiling. “Did you even think about what I talked about a few days ago?”

“I still am.”

“Then why didn’t you agree to see one of them again?”

“Because there wasn’t anything we had in common.”

“Most people who have arranged marriages don’t, Bruce. That’s why you go on dates and get to know them.” Her eyes were still on the ceiling. “What’s the real reason you said no?” She always knew when he’d lied to her.

After a moment, he murmured, “…I didn’t think any of them would be suitable to be Dick’s adoptive mother.”

“I guess that’s…fair,” she agreed and they both fell silent.

A couple minutes later, he said, “I’ve been thinking about what you said though, (Y/N). About finding a wife who would be a good mother for Dick.”

“Uh huh.”

“I think you’re right. I do offer Dick everything a father could. Support, protection, guidance…but he is missing that love only a mother can give a son.”

“And how’s that making you feel?” she questioned softly.

His voice got quiet. “Like how I was when I was growing up without mother. (Y/N), I…I don’t want Dick to feel that way.”

At that, she drew her gaze from the ceiling to his eyes and she reasoned, “Then I think you should call one of the girls back and agree to a second date. You won’t find perfection in one day, even with how intuitive you are.”

Bruce shrugged. “I just want to find someone closer to Gotham. Someone who is familiar with us already.”

(Y/N) grunted. “I purposely moved away from Gotham because no one is.”

“That’s fair,” Bruce chuckled, and they fell into a silence again.

Suddenly, a thought flashed across her mind and she sat up. “Us.” She blurted out and he looked at her.

“What?”

(Y/N) gestured between them. “Us, Bruce. You and me.”

“I don’t follow,” he replied with a confused expression and she huffed, rolling her eyes.

“You’re an idiot,” she griped, then she stood and planted her hands on his desk, leaning over to get in his face. “You and I are the closest to Gotham as you’ll get, and I’m familiar with you and Dick.” She smiled. “Marry me.”

She could count on one hand how many times she’d ever stunned her best friend silent and that was number two because his jaw went slack and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline, steel blue eyes wide.

(Y/N) frowned. “Oh, come on, you can’t tell me the thought didn’t cross your mind at least once.” Silence. “Oh my God, are you serious? You didn’t even think about it at all? Like ever?”

He shook his head, mouth still hanging open.

“Oh, for God’s sakes, close your mouth and wipe that stupid look off your face. It’s not a completely inconceivable idea, you moron.” (Y/N) held a hand up, counting off her fingers, “I’m of acceptable status, I dress well, I’m thoroughly educated, I do humanitarian work all over the world, I love your son, and I’m probably the one woman that doesn’t make you wanna stab yourself in the eye with a fork.”

She grinned at him. “You’re not going to find anyone better than me here in Gotham, Brucie-boy. Besides, I think (Y/N) Wayne has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Finally, he managed to make himself speak and he blurted out, “I stopped thinking like five minutes ago. I’m not even sure how to do that anymore.”

(Y/N) pulled a face and griped, “You’re an idiot.”

“I am not,” he retorted with a glare. “You can’t just propose to your best friend out of the blue and expect them to function like it’s normal!”

“You’re Batman,” she whispered. “Figure it out.” (Y/N) pointed at him. “There’s another plus on my side! I already know your deepest secrets! See, aren’t I a catch?”

“Was this your plan all along?” Bruce suddenly questioned and she gaped at him for a second before shaking her head.

“…No.”

“(Y/N),” he drawled, and she sighed.

“Alright, it crossed my mind a couple times but that’s why I started with the other women first. I was kinda hoping you’d pick one of them.” (Y/N) looked at him. “I really don’t see anything wrong with us getting married though. We’ve been friends since we were babies, we have a lot of the same interests, and we both care for Dick.”

She shrugged. “I mean we might not be in love, but our marriage doesn’t have to be. We’re stepping up for a greater good. For a young boy who deserves to have two parents.” (Y/N) reached out and held out her hand. “So? What do you say?”

Bruce gazed at her for a long time, longer than she was comfortable with because she knew he was mentally pulling her mind apart. After a few moments he stood and walked around the desk to stand in front of her.

She pulled her hand back in and gave a curious look. “Bruce?” His hands gently took hold of her cheeks and he leaned forward, even as her eyes went wide and she whispered, “Bruce, what—”

He softly brushed his lips against hers and (Y/N) all but melted against him, her hands pressed flat against his chest. They pulled away a moment later and he rested his forehead to hers.

“I think we can make it work, (Y/N).”

She couldn’t fight the giddy smile that came over her face. “Yeah?”

Bruce matched her smile. “Yeah.”

***

“So, you’re tellin’ me,” he started dubiously, looking at him. “That you and Ma only got together because you guys wanted to make sure Golden-boy had two parents instead of just you?”

Bruce didn’t even take his eyes off the screen as he responded absentmindedly, “That pretty much covers it.”

Jason threw his hands in the air. “There’s no way! There’s no way that shit was arranged! You two make googly eyes at one another when you think no one is watching and you kiss Ma before you go to work every day!” he looked at his brothers. “Y’all know what I’m sayin’ right?”

Tim nodded. “Jay’s got a point, dad. For an arranged marriage, the two of you are really in love.”

Dick placed a hand over his heart and smugly admitted, “You’re welcome everyone, for bringing mom and dad together in real love.”

A chorus of “Fuck you’s” echoed from Jason and Tim, and Damian placed his hands on his hips.

“When did you know you loved Umi, Father?”

Finally, he pulled his gaze from the Batcomputer, and even behind his cowl, they could see the love he had in his eyes and in his voice as he said, “Your mother and I dated for a year before we married, but the night of our wedding, we spent it at the manor and Dick crawled into our bed and spent the night wrapped in our arms.”

Bruce smiled. “I woke up early that morning and saw him curled in (Y/N)’s arms and all I could think was that I’d never loved a woman more than that moment then.” His eyes shifted to all of his sons. “And I’ve only fallen deeper in love with her with each of you that’s come into our home. You make us better parents every day and I wouldn’t change what I was given for anything in the world.”

He barely had time to breathe before all four of his sons were crashing into him, squeezing him as tears spilled down their cheeks.

Bruce huffed a quiet laugh and took a moment to brush a hand through each of his sons’ hair. “I love you, boys.”

A chorus of “I love you too’s” came back at him and before anyone could speak, they heard someone coo, “Aww, that’s so sweet!”

They spun around to see (Y/N) with her phone out, a mile-wide smile on her face, eyes shining with tears.

“Ma…what are you doing?” Jason questioned and she clicked something on her phone.

“Oh, nothing, my sweet boy,” she smiled, and all of her sons started pulling away from Bruce.

“Did you just record that?” Tim asked and she took a step back.

“I would never!” and she stared them down for a split second before spinning on her heel and hauling off towards the stairs. Her sons sprinted after her and she let out a squeal as she skipped the steps two at a time to get away from them.

“Ma come back here!” Jason shouted.

“Umi! Our dignity is on that phone!”

“I dunno, I think it’s sweet!”

“It’s not going to be sweet when she sends it to the group chat that every superhero is in, Dick! We have reputations!”

“Oh…that’s a good point, Tim. Mom! Come back here!”

(Y/N) gasped as someone’s arms wrapped around her waist and she came face to face with Bruce—well, Batman, and she yelped when he pulled her phone out of her pocket.

“Bruuuuuuce!” she whined. “Please don’t delete it!” (Y/N) reached for the phone and he held it out of reach. “Darling, my sweet darling, Bruce, please,” she plead. “If you love your wife and mother of your children, you won’t do that.”

His gaze darted to hers and she pouted, sticking her bottom lip out in the way that she knew he’d crack. “Please, my heart. Let me have a reminder of my beautiful boys.”

“You won’t send it to the chats?” he asked, and she crossed a finger over her heart.

“Cross my heart, darling.” He handed her back the phone and she smiled, leaning up to peck the corner of his mouth. “Thank you, Bruce.”

He cupped her cheek with his gloved hand, thumb brushing over her cheekbone and he pulled her into a real kiss, ignoring the exaggerated gags behind him.

“I love you,” he murmured as he pulled away from her lips. “More than you know.”

(Y/N) hummed, her eyes still closed, and she whispered, “You might love me more, but I love you most.” She opened her eyes and gazed at him. “All my boys.”

Suddenly, her phone started dinging like crazy and he stared at her, his Batman voice coming out as he surmised, “You sent it to the chat, didn’t you?”

She gave him an innocent smile and giggled, “I might’ve.”

“You’re going to pay for all the teasing that Hal and Barry are going to give me, (Y/N) Wayne,” he warned, and she scoffed.

“Oh, boo hoo, I’m so scared of what the big bad Bat is go—” a gasp escaped her when he hauled her up against his body and she stared at him with wide eyes.

A siren went off down in the cave and he looked towards the boys. “Go.” They all hurried off, complaining about the various texts they were all getting.

Bruce looked back at her, voice lowering as he growled, “After patrol I’m coming up to the bedroom and you’d better be ready, because I’m not going to stop ravishing you until you’re begging me for release.”

Something hot, tight, and fierce shot through (Y/N)’s gut and she could only flounder like a fish as he pulled her into another searing kiss before he spun on his heel and descended into the cave.

She gathered herself and called out after him, “You can’t just say something like that and then leave! That’s not fair, Bruce! Bruce, are you listening to me!”

Only his laughter echoed from below.

“Bruce!”

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roscgcld · 3 years

Text

GOJO SATORU || pretty eyes [pt.2]

anime: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru

pronouns: she/her

notes: high-school! gojo x underclassman! reader

the part two of ‘pretty eyes’ is here! read part one here.

“You really do have pretty eyes, senpai.”

Gojo prides himself as a man who just ‘doesn’t do relationships’. Besides the fact that there is a line of women who were just waiting to get with him, he had never really seen what an actual functioning relationship looked like. His parents had an arranged marriage to ‘keep the Gojo clan’s genes powerful’ - his father was barely around, going about his duties to the clan whilst his mother was out and about having affairs left, right and center.

With that being said though, Gojo was a determined man. He may not know exactly what was it that draws him to a particular junior of his, but he’d be damned if he didn’t get to at least know her better. The problem? He has absolutely no clue on how to woe her.

“Remind me again exactly what am I doing here?”

It was a Friday afternoon - and classes are always let out earlier on Friday. Usually Geto would spend the free afternoon just relaxing in his dorm after a long week of classes and missions; but before Geto can evens step one foot out of the stuffy classroom, Gojo had grabbed his arm and teleported them both out of campus. That’s how he found himself in a random café that Gojo had graciously dragged them into, narrowing his eyes over at his best friend as he raised his mug of earl grey to his lips. “If this is about copying my essay-”

“How do you ask a girl out?”

“Hah?” Geto asks with an annoyed scowl, to which Gojo just made a noise before he awkward sets his clean cake fork down; the multi-layered cookies and cream cake sat untouched before him. That alone should be concerning, since Gojo is known to have a strong affinity for sweets. “How do you ask a girl out? Like, on a date.” Gojo repeated with the utmost serious expression on his face, and for a few moments Geto just blinks at him owlishly. “Satoru, how the hell have you been asking women out before this? It’s the same damn thing.”

“Asking a girl you actually like out and asking someone for a one night stand are two very different things.” Gojo stresses whilst Geto actually sets his mug down before him, the situation slowly dawning onto him. “You’re actually being serious right now.” He mutters whilst Gojo tossed him an annoyed look, clearly unamused by how little faith his friend has in him. “Well, first things first, you actually need to get to know them better first before you actually ask them.”

“Yeah, well - I’m trying to work on that.” Gojo grumbles out quietly as he picked his fork back up, digging into the corner of his cake with a soft frown whilst Geto leans back into his seat with a thoughtful look. “But I didn’t even notice her until recently.” He sighs softly to himself as he examined his forkful of cake, a slight pout tugging on his lips. “I am sure Ieiri might help. But knowing her, that means I’ll owe her another debt that she will use against me.”

Geto, for once, actually feels some form of sympathy for Gojo. Whilst he grew up in a functioning household with loving parents, Gojo was brought up in a lonely world, where he was treated like a prized position to be paraded about. So Geto wasn’t shocked at how unsure the usually overconfident Gojo is when it comes to something as trivial as dating. “Well...you can bring her out for coffee like you’re doing with me.” He offered, to which Gojo just made a face at his statement. “Sorry buddy, I don’t swing that way.”

“You little piece of shit.” Geto grunted with a light scowl as he kicked Gojo hard underneath the table, his annoyance growing at the familiar grin that was tugging at the corners of Gojo’s lips; and also the fact that his foot was stop by the Limitless that Gojo had activated before Geto can kick. “I mean an actual cute date dumbass - bring her café hopping about Tokyo or something. Or one of those pet cafes - people love pet cafes.” Geto said with a tired sigh, picking up his mug to take a slow sip from his warm liquid whilst Gojo actually pauses for a moment at Geto’s words. “Wait, that’s not that bad of an idea.”

Geto just rolled his eyes at that, taking soft sips from his mug whilst he watches as Gojo start googling about a few cafes that he can bring her about. “You’re welcome.” Geto said with a tired sigh as he sets his mug down, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks over at Gojo. “Now figure out a way to get to know her better and see if she’s even interested in your annoying ass.” He stated simply, to which Gojo just grins as he pointed the end of his fork as Geto, having eating that bite of cake whilst he typing away on his phone. “Who wouldn’t be interested in me?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

The next time he had gotten a chance to bump into her was actually by complete accident.

Like usually, he had decided to slack off instead of doing his homework; so it was no surprise to find the young shaman cooped up in the library of the school with a variety of textbooks opened around him. To be honest, Gojo wouldn’t have done this essay if it wasn’t for the fact that it had a heavy weightage on his final grade, determining if he could graduate from high school.

Even with that threat overhead, he decided to drag it out until the very last day to start writing it. Geto was just annoyed at him, since Gojo is actually really smart - yet he enjoys slacking off. It was infuriating, and since Gojo had already annoyed him enough with his entire ‘crush’ situation, Geto had just told him to go to the library before promptly closing the door in his face.

So there Gojo was, long limbs stretched out all over the place as he twirls his pen between his fingers. He had the most bored expression on his face as he tilted his head back with a sigh, his eyes blinking up at the wooden ceiling. If he was being honest, he had actually finished half of his essay - until he grew bored and wanted a distraction. He was about to get up to go and grab a snack from the vending machines when he heard a pair of soft footsteps and a quiet voice calling out to him.

“Oh, hello there, Gojo-senpai.”

Gojo widen his eyes in shock as he suddenly sat up straight, almost dropping the pen he was twirling between his fingers as he snapped his eyes up at the girl that had plagued his thoughts day and night. The same smile gracing her lips as she curiously walked towards the messy desk, casting a glance over the many opened books and the half-written essay before him. “Am I disturbing your research?”

“N-No.” Gojo said, cringing a little at how awkward he sounded - it was so unnatural and so unlike him, and he hopes that she didn’t notice it. Fortunately she hadn’t picked up on the awkwardness that he was basically radiating as she smiles and nods, gesturing to the free seat opposite from his with her free hand. “Do you mind if I take a seat there? I don’t really like studying alone in the library, it can get really quiet and boring.”

Numbly Gojo nodded, feeling a light blush coating his cheeks when he saw the grateful smile she tossed over at him casually as she made her way to the seat. He snapped out of it when he saw her pulling her own textbook from her bag, quickly shifting his mess into a neat pile so she has more space to work. She thanked him quietly with a smile, settling down in the free seat opposite from his as she started to flip through her book. He pretended to return to his work as well, but in reality he was watching her through his lashes, admiring how she can make something as simple as reading look graceful.

There was no way he was going to be able to do work now.

Closing his eyes a little, he reaches up to rub the bridge of his nose, this action causing his signature rounded sunglasses to fall down the bridge a little more. He was about to push them back when he felt a pair of eyes on him, causing him to look over the rim of his glasses over at the girl before him. When she was caught staring she just smiles at him, causing Gojo’s now calmed cheeks to flare up once more. “You really do have pretty eyes, senpai.” The girl stated simply, tilting her head a little as she casted him another smile.

And once more, the simple act of a smile caused Gojo’s breath to hitch, his eyes widening even more as he watches how she just casually looked down at her textbook once more. If only she knew just how that one sentence had basically shot-circuited his brain - rendering him useless for a few seconds. Somehow though, he managed to slowly return to his senses and start on his essay, the sound of having someone else studying with him getting him into the groove of things. Without even knowing it, he wrote the last sentence of his essay; smiling victoriously as he picked the essay up and flipped through the sheets of writing. He gave them a quick scan, reading it briefly to make sure everything looks alright before he slipped his essay back into his folder.

He had started to pack his books up when he spotted the clear look of confusion that was splashed across the face of the girl opposite from him. For some reason she reminded him of a kitten, and for a brief moment he just wanted to reach over to gently squish her cheeks in his hands. Instead he gave into his smaller temptation; gently kicking her slipper clad foot with one of his own to grab her attention. “Need some help with that?”

The younger girl gave him an embarrassed smile as she nods, rubbing the back of her head softly as she glances back at her textbook. “I wouldn’t mind...it’s just - I’ve been reading over the same chapter for a few days now, but I just don’t understand anything.” She admitted with a tired sigh as she hangs her head a little, sporting what looks to be a soft pout of frustration that caused Gojo’s heart to skip a beat at how adorable she looked. Wordlessly Gojo got up, grabbing his seat from his end of the table as he made his way towards her.

Settling down beside her, he leaned closer to scan over the page of the textbook, a memory jostling in the back of his mind at the same lesson he took back in his first year. “Oh, I remember this. I can help you if you want.”

“Really?” The younger girl said with an curious look as she glanced back at the man seated beside her, Gojo widening his eyes when he realised just how close their faces were. He can feel her soft breath against his cheek, and what smelt like mint coming from parted lips. This caused him to blush as he hid his widened eyes behind his sunglasses, wondering how the hell was she not outwardly reacting at how close their faces were. “Y-Yeah. I mean, I’ve already finished my work...I don’t mind killing some free time helping you.”

The girl gave him a grateful smile before she rubs the back of her neck gently, feeling a soft flush appearing on her cheeks that caused Gojo to stare shamelessly. “Thank you, senpai. If you need anything from me after this, don’t hesitate to ask.” She offered shyly as she glances over at Gojo, who blinked before he decided to take his opportunity. “A-Actually, there is something you can help me with.” Gojo admitted after he took a deep breath to steel his resolve, but the tone of his voice was still far too shy for how the third year.

His words caused the girl beside him to cast him a curious glance

“Would you maybe...be interested on going on a date with me?” He asks her, biting his lip a little as he stared at her from behind his sunglasses. For a brief moment the girl just blinked at him before her face suddenly blossomed in a deep shade of red, her hands coming up to slap over her warm cheeks as she stared at him with wide eyes. “M-Me?”

A shy nod was given before Gojo awkwardly glances down at his lap as well, rubbing the back of his neck with one of his hand whilst the other rested on the desk before them; anxiously tapping against the wood. “Y-Yeah.” He mumbles in a soft voice, and for a few moments there was silence that caused Gojo’s heart to beat painfully against his chest.

Screw whoever says that facing a Special Grade Curse would be terrifying - Gojo feels like he might just die from the anxiety of asking someone out for something as simple as a date.

He was about to start babbling about some random reason as to why when he heard her shy answer. “I-I mean...I wouldn’t mind going out on a date with you...”

Cue short-circuited Gojo once more.

“O-Oh.” Gojo spluttered out with wide eyes, having not expected for her to agree so readily as she gave him a shy smile, her face still dusted in a light shade of red as she nodded her. Her answer caused him to smile, biting his lip a little to stop his face from splitting open in a huge grin as he tilts his head a little. “Does 5pm tomorrow sound alright for you?” He asks her quietly, to which she grins softly and nods her head, her action causing her hair to fall over her face in perfect waves; the action causing Gojo’s already poor heart to do another flip in his chest. “We can meet up at the front of the school.”

With a final nod and another shy smile shared between the two, both of them returned to the work that hand. However there was a certain atmosphere between the two; the slightly excitement that was clearly on their faces at the idea of their date tomorrow, the light bumping of shoulders as Gojo reaches over to point at something as he explained it to the girl quietly, soft comments that leads to soft giggles and the shy glances they both share. The soft smiles on their faces sealing the scene for anyone to walk past to know that there was definitely something brewing between the two

Who knew all it took was a simple complement to land them where they are today.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x you #satory gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk satoru #satoru #satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff

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like-rain-or-confetti · 3 years

Text

That Night. (Alec Volturi x Reader)

You had screamed. Before Alec could say anything to you said the words that had changed everything. "I can't take this! I have to leave! I have to get out!" Alec froze in his tracks "You're... abandoning us? Me?" You stepped back, tearing at your own hair as sobs wracked your body. Alec stepped closer, hoping his words would make you see reason, make you come to him. "You're breaking my heart." Instead, your response brought him to a blind rage. "You don't have one! You clearly don't!" It reminded him of how everyone else treated him and his sister, as a vampire and as a human. Everyone had that perception and whilst he learned to numb any emotion towards it, you had been the exception. He couldn't handle the idea of you thinking of him like that. He loved you too much. So before he knew it, he was storming up to you and you screamed again before you took off running. This only made matters worse.

"Alec, how can I help you?" Carlisle's voice could he heard on the other side of the phone. "Carlisle, I was hoping I could speak to you. You're a doctor and deal with humans all the time. You see, (Y/N) interrupted our feeding. I'm concerned that it's done something to them." Carlisle paused. "Were they physically harmed?" He asked and Alec scowled. "Of course not. We got into an argument but made amends, they went to bed. Although I can't help but worry regardless." "I understand. Do they feel as though they are in any danger? Are they behaving differently?" Carlisle asked. "No. They seem to be fine. They slept soundly that night. It's just...they won't eat, they've lost their appetite. I'm just concerned it'll get worse." "Keep an eye on them, if it doesn't clear up, I encourage you to contact me immediately." "But I don't understand what's happening, how will I know what's normal and what is a warning sign?" Alec asked. "Why are they absolutely fine but can't eat?" "The mind is a very powerful thing, Alec. It can create defenses to shield itself from trauma. Manipulate physiological functions to protect itself. It can alter many things, sleeping, talking, smells, tastes, dreams, perception memories. Whether it be physical or mental, you're mind can alter almost any interaction to protect itself. It can be because of the things we fear or the things we can't imagine. Start slow, make sure they drink water throughout the day, gradually build up on the food. Their appetite will be back. They just need time. Although if you feel it's been too long, then contact me. I'll do my best to help." Alec didn’t think it necessary to give much more detail than that.

You stood by the window, arms crossed when Alec had returned. Alec immediately removed his cloak. As he moved to hang it upon his desk chair, he noticed the untouched water on the desk. "I thought I told you to drink that." Alec frowned. "You know it's important." You turned your head to look at him. "Sorry." You sighed. "I forgot about it." You immediately moved from the window. You grabbed the glass and took large gulps. You put it down once you drank half of it. You raised it to Alec, showing him before putting it back down. Alec smiled slightly as he straightened his cloak before putting his hands upon your waist. "Thank you, sweet-face." He kissed your forehead.

"A-A-" You couldn't breathe slow enough to say his name. Alec pulled you to him. "O-Ow." Alec rocked you. His clasped his hand over the back of your head, just under your cranium. He softly hushed you as you clung to him. He let his mist trickle into your head from his hand until it travelled down your whole body. "It's okay. Let me take the pain away.” Demetri burst through the door and his eyes widened in horror at the scene. "I didn't mean to." Alec said quietly. "I was angry and pushed them too hard. They- they hit their head." Demetri took a step closer, eyes wide as he stared the two of you down in shock. "I need to take them back to my room." Alec said. Demetri was about to protest but Alec insisted. "I can help them! I'm fine, I've fed!" Wordlessly, Demetri watched as Alec picked you up. "Does anything hurt?" Alec asked you, looking towards the shoulder your injured head lay on. "No." Alec heard the quiet, soft reply. Without delay, he took you back to his room.

Alec was in the kitchen when you walked in, seemingly he had been the one you were looking for. "Hey." You said quietly, leaning on the counter next to the barstool Alec sat on. Alec smiled slightly at you pushing the newspaper away. "Hello, sweet-face." He said softly. "I've been looking for you." You said softly. "Lucky guess to choose the kitchen." He smirked and you smiled in amusement. "Can I talk to you?" You asked. "Of course you can, sweet-face." He replied quieter, leaning closer to you. "It's just...I've been thinking about the other night." Alec's smiled faded away but you continued. "I said some really bad things but I was just trying to remember the rest, like hitting my head. I don't remember doing that. It's hazy." "There is an endless number of things I wish to forget." Alec retorted. "You hitting your head is definitely one of them." You nodded but he noticed the small wince at your head movement. "Does it hurt?" He asked softly. "A little." You replied, raising a hand to the back of your head. Your eyes widened as you lulled back sharply. Alec stood immediately upon seeing your hand painted with red. "You're bleeding again." Alec reached for a clean towel before putting it to the back of your head. "Should I be? Is that...normal?" You asked. Alec cracked a smile. "How would I know? I'm a vampire well over a thousand years old who doesn't bleed." You couldn't help but smile back. Alec looked over your shoulder, his smile vanished, as he heard loud stomping.

Within seconds Felix burst in. "They're stinking up the whole castle!" Felix said with agitation. "Don't speak about them like that. Don't you ever speak like that about them ever again." Alec growled. "Don't speak about them like they aren't here!" Alec spat. "Alec, leave it." You chimed in but Felix continued. "That's the problem, Alec! They are here." Felix growled. "Felix, let it go." Demetri sighed, he had followed behind his friend. Felix scoffed and stormed off.

None of the vampires would bother to even look at you. Truth be told, you had said some things, hurtful things about the guards. Given that they were able to hear it for themselves. It wasn't much of a secret. Nor was the fact that they were very upset with you about it. So much so, they all gave you the silent treatment of all things they could have done. Then again, it made sense, given they couldn't hurt you. Not whilst Alec was around. You shook your head at Alec with soft eyes. As always you were trying to be understanding and whilst you seemed to tolerate it- Alec could not. "They're angry. Let them be." You said quietly and Alec shook his head with an impatient sigh.

Alec sat you in the bathtub, not willing to risk you sitting up upon the counter. He moved behind you and carefully pulled any clothing and hair aside. Alec took a better look at the injury, trying to ignore the smell of your fresh blood. Relief flooded through him. It wasn't bad at all. It had looked worse than it was. It wasn't very deep or large. "It's okay, sweet-face." Alec breathed a smile of relief. "It just bled more than you'd think. It's just under your head." "Really? It's-its not bad?" You said in disbelief yet relieved none the less. "It's alright." Alec nodded with a smile. "We just need to keep it compressed, I'm certain that it'll stop bleeding soon."

Alec held a towel to the back of your head as you both sat in bed. There was a knock after a while. It was Demetri, his eyes ran over the pair of you before he spoke. "I've informed our masters about tonight's events so that they won't be expecting you for a while." Alec nodded. "Thank you." Demetri stared once more and Alec noticed. "Demetri, they didn't mean what they said." Demetri's eyes flickered to Alec. He said nothing, simply turning and closing the door behind him. "He's angry with me." You said quietly. Alec looked back at you. "Ignore him or anyone else. I'll deal with their issues if I must." "Are you angry with me?" You looked at him, remorse written all over your face. "No, sweet-face. After that, I don't think I could be angry with you even if I wanted to be." "I didn't mean it." You said weakly. "I know." He assured you, before pressing a light kiss to your lips. Alec decided he would call Carlisle about the event and the effects it could have had on you by witnessing him feeding. After all, you refused to eat anything.

Barely a day later, it happened again. You barely got out of the way whilst Jane strode into the room without any regard that she nearly knocked you over. "Jane!" Alec scolded with a frown. "What?" She asked incredulously. Alec sighed impatiently. "Forget it." "I was going to ask if you wanted some company later considering that we are both off duty in the afternoon." Jane eyed her twin. "That would be nice, sister." Alec replied. Jane looked like she wanted to say something else but decided against it and left just as quickly as she had entered. You moved towards Alec's side as he sighed. "I don't know why they can't forgive you as I have." He huffed. "That's not how it works Alec. That night...I said horrible things. I hurt their feelings." You replied. "So trample you every given opportunity?" Alec shot back harshly. "Alec!" You pleaded. "Give them time. We needed time too." "Thirty minutes." Alec replied. "You know me better than any of them. It'd be concerning if you were upset with me longer than they were." Alec sighed again. "I don't like them doing this to you. I know how that feels to have everyone against you." You put your hand on top of his. "Everyone isn't against me...I have you." You smiled slightly before kissing his cheek.

Alec found his sister walking down the same corridor that he was, walking towards him. "I've been looking for you." She said simply. "As have I sister." Alec replied. The twins couldn't meet earlier, their situation had changed, for Jane anyway. Alec hadn't been on duty since the accident. Seemingly all it took was one look into his mind by Aro and Aro's decision was made. He was off duty until further notice. Alec didn't complain, he got to spend more time with you. Although he did miss his sister dearly. "Would you like to go to my room this time seeing as we went to yours the last time?" Alec offered. Jane paused, a grimace rushing across her face quickly before it returned to her normal stoic expression. "No, let's go to mine again." Alec internally sighed to himself. He expected no less. Jane didn't want to go to his room because you were there and she, like the others, wanted nothing to do with you at this time. Even your apologies have went ignored. However Alec didn't make any fuss. Despite his patience wearing thin.

A few days later, Alec was about to open the door to his room when Jane walked up to him, calling his name. Alec turned. "The permanent guards are spending time together, will you join?" Alec thought momentarily. "Can (Y/N) come?" Jane hesitated, just like the others did. At first it was odd to Alec but now seeing it and their treatment towards you, it only made him angrier. "I don't think that's a good idea." There was a second long pause. "Besides, it's just the permanent guards, (Y/N) isn't." "Then no." Alec said gruffly. "No? Why not?" Jane asked as she took a step closer. "Because I am sick of all of you treating (Y/N) the way you have. So why the hell would I want to spend another moment with any of you?" Jane looked taken aback by how cold Alec's voice had turned. "Alec?" "I've been nothing but patient with you all. Nice, even, by (Y/N)'s request but you all just keep pushing and I'm sick of it." Demetri turned the corner from behind Jane. "Jane, you asked your brother right? You're not supposed to pick a fight with him." He joked. Jane ignored him. "What are you-?" Alec cut her off. "You've been doing this for days now!" Alec ranted. "Ignoring (Y/N) left, right and centre-" "Alec-" Demetri tried but Alec continued. "They apologised and they'd never treat any of you like this!" "Alec-" Demetri tried again but Alec was far from done. "And you!" Alec turned his gaze to his sister. "You know what we went through! You'd treat my mate that exact same way!?" "Alec-!" Demetri tried louder, exasperated. "Even if they were angry at you, they would never pretend you didn't exist and blatantly ignore any of you! To tell them you want them gone!? Even now they're being understanding-" "Alec, you're confused!" Demetri said loudly and finally Alec seemed to hear him. "What?" He asked incredulously. Alec noted the look of alarm upon his sister's face as well as a very concerned Demetri. "Alec, I need you to listen to me." Demetri began. "I know you've been through a lot given everything that happened-" "What!?" Alec snapped. "I'm fine! We figured it out! It's you that's the problem!" "Alec, I know you're struggling after what happened that night but you need to face that (Y/N) is gone!" Alec was stunned into silence. "It was awful and it was sad and we are so very sorry, Alec, but you can't keep them in your room and you can't pretend this never happened." Alec wanted to scream at him, demand to know what he was talking about. Instead nothing fell from his lips even as his mind began to race. He went straight into his room. Once he was in he was hit with the smell of rotting. It was overwhelming as soon as he opened the door. You were in bed, lying with your back to him.

"Don't even try to run! You know you can't outrun me!" Rang out through the castle. "Get back here!" Alec screamed. There was a loud clang behind you and you screeched. You staggered back as you turned to be faced with a furious Alec. He had followed you into an old cloak room that had since been used for storage...hundreds of years ago. "Stay away from me!" You screamed. "I told you to stay in my room! Come to me now!" He demanded. "Y-You're a monster! You all are! You rob innocent people of their lives for your own personal gain! You're vile! Disgusting! You should be dead! You should all be dead!" Alec lunged and you screamed again. "Stop it!" He growled before a snarl ripped through him. He took hold of your wrists hard. "W-What are you going to kill me? T-That's what you do best right? Or are you going to hurt me first!? That's how you like it right?" "Hurt you!?" Alec screamed. You felt the bones in your arms begin to crumble. "I would never hurt you! How dare you think I ever could!" He pushed you back. Alec froze in place, looking upon your covered form in his bed. "The mind is a very powerful thing, Alec. It can create defenses to shield itself from trauma..." Carlisle's words, days prior, rushed through his head. "...It can alter many things, sleeping, talking, smells, tastes, dreams, perception memories." The words plagued him. They were unsettling to say the very least. Now more than ever. They triggered an image in Alec's mind. Where you had been crying and Alec- he had roughly pushed you and you staggered back against the wall before freezing, eyes wide. He stared at you, surprised at the new scent in the air and how frightening your eyes were. "It can be because of the things we fear or the things we can't imagine." Alec called your name but you didn't move. Alec gripped your arms, to get you to focus on him. However squelching sound made him freeze. Slowly you began to slide down the wall, leaving a stain of red as you did so. The image suddenly changed, Alec had you cradled in his arms as he screamed. Then again, he had carried you to bed. You were asleep. That's what he had told himself. He recalled you apologising for menstruation leak you had in his bed one morning. He told you not to worry. It happens sometimes. Although now, he noticed how it had been where your back and head would have been, on the sheets and the pillows. Your body that lay there every night wasn't resting, instead it had been decaying. That empty wide eyed gaze...Alec didn't think he could ever forget it. All of his anger washed away in a moment. Something was very wrong. Your scent was even more potent, warmer even. He took your wrists, pulling you from the wall. There was a sickening squelch that stopped him in his tracks. "(Y/N)?" Slowly you slid down the wall, leaving a track of red down the wall. He looked at the spot upon the wall your head had previously been. There, upon the wall was an old clothes hook, now covered in blood. He screamed, holding you to him. You didn't breathe, you didn't move. Your heart stopped the moment he had pulled you off the hook. Demetri burst into the room to see Alec cradling your body. No...no that couldn't have been right. You were fine. You were with him now. Why would he ever lay a finger on you? Sure, you had horrible things but he didn't hurt you too badly. You didn't die that night.

It was a truly awful thought. Alec wanted rid of it immediately. Although he felt hands wrap around him and a familiar scent that he had so desperately needed in that moment. He raised a hand to the arm around him, looking over his shoulder to see you smiling at him. "Are you okay?" You asked lightly. "...Are you okay?" He shot back and your smile grew. "I am now." He looked back towards the bed, the horrific scene before him was gone and Alec breathed a sigh of relief and a small but pained smile. His eyes black as they had been since the accident.

#spookytime2021 #twilight #volturi #the volturi #reader #alec volturi #oneshot #one shot

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uwuwriting · 4 years

Text

Aizawa, Todoroki and Shinsou bringing their kids to work

Request: I just binged your whole blog and let me tell you Hawks bringing his kid to school was fhrqhelfifreh so could I request todoroki shinsou and aizawa bringing their kids to work - anonymous

Okay till the end of this week I’ll be giving you fluffy stuff because starting next week we are entering angst territory . I hope I finish the fic with Shirakumo’s daughter and then I have some angst requests to get to. So this is like a parting gift to happiness. Love ya. 💖💖💖

rules

masterlist

warnings: fluff

Aizawa Shouta

-He loves being a dad.

-Unlike his students his son, Kaito, is a very very calm two year old.

-They take naps together in their matching sleeping bags, Shouta is the only one who can feed him his vegetables and they usually grade papers together.

-You are the one who looks after Kaito while Shouta is at work and once he gets home you go off to your agency.

-So basically Kaito spends half of his day with you and half with Aizawa.

-When you were called in that morning because of a villain attack, you had to leave Kaito with Aizawa.

- “I’m so sorry Shouta, Midnight was assigned on this mission with me and I don’t really trust Hizashi with a two year old.”

-He chuckled, taking a sleeping Kaito from your arms and giving you a kiss on each cheek and then on your forehead.

- “Don’t worry kitten, I’m sure he will be an angel.”

-In the teachers lounge, before class starts for the day, nearly half of the staff is cooing over the still sleeping toddler.

-They keep complimenting Shouta about how much they look alike and how cute he is.

-He just grumbles about how he wants them away from his son.

-He was saved from the bell, dashing to his class surprising all of his students with his sudden appearance.

-They hadn’t yet seen the baby in his arms until he stirred in his sleep, a few baby words tumbling from his mouth.

-Mina was ready to let out a really really high pitched squeal when Sero slapped her mouth shut.

- “Its sleeping!”

-Aizawa just let out a sigh and set his stuff on his desk.

-He went to start his lesson like usual but that apparently wasn’t an option.

-Sir you have a baby in your arms don’t expect us to stay silent and learn something useful.

-Kaito woke up a few minutes into the whisper shouting argument Shouta was having with 18 teenagers.

-He slowly blinked the sleep from his eyes, letting out a small yawn before looking around, his e/c eyes landing on all the new faces.

-Everyone was silent, expecting the toddler to start crying at the change of scenery and at the absence of his mother but surprisingly no.

-He rested his head on Shouta’s shoulder and shyly waved at the class.

-Since he was awake Mina could be a little more vocal.

-All the girls wanted to hold him, their main mission being to make him laugh.

-Some of the boys were asking Aizawa some questions while others were entertaining the toddler.

-Kaito was really amazed by Shouto’s flames and he let out a heart warming laugh.

-Uraraka made things float around the baby while Kaminari made small sparks.

-Aizawa has never heard his baby boy laughing that much before.

-At home he’s quiet, laughing only when you tickle him or when Shouta’s stumble scratches his plush cheeks.

-Maybe taking him out more and letting the class hang out with him a little wouldn’t be so bad.

-The last person who approached the kid was Bakugou, who crouched down to his eye level and they just stared at each for a solid minute.

-Then Bakugou activated his quirk and the mini explosions made Kaito giggle and reach out to Katsuki.

-The rest of the day was spent fawning over Kaito, nothing changed even after three hours of toddler entertainment.

-When it was time to leave, the kids begged Aizawa to bring him again.

- “Maybe I’ll bring him to the dorms at some point. But don’t irritate me you brats because otherwise he’s staying home.”

Bonus:

“I heard that you, little man, were a heartthrob today!”

*baby babbling*

“Yeah he didn’t let me teach.”

“Like it bothered you.”

“I never said that”

Todoroki Shouto

-You had to go on a mission abroad for a week and today the twins’ preschool had informed you that they wouldn’t open today.

-Frantically you called Shouto, proposing some solutions to your problem.

- “I’ll take them with me.”

-He wants to spend more time with his girls anyway.

-Both of them are very curious about their parents’ job and they have asked both of you to take them to work.

-This was their chance.

-You went to protest, knowing how stressing hero work could be and not wanting to stress your husband out more.

- “Love, I want them with me. I want to spend time with my snowflakes.”

-You couldn’t argue with that.

-He woke them up and helped them get dressed, leading them to the kitchen for breakfast while he simultaneously did their hair.

-The twins aren’t really morning types so they tend to be really quiet until noon.

-Telling them what they would be doing today, Shouto grabbed his things and stretched out both of his arms.

-When people at the agency saw the youngest Todoroki with two little girls clinging to his hands they were confused.

-They knew that he had a family, you two worked at the same agency after all, but they had never seen your kids.

-And let me tell you that 90% of your coworkers are now cooing at the three year olds.

-Shouto knew that his daughters didn’t really like crowds, even Rei who was the talkative one of the two would get shy and hide behind him when new people approached.

-Because of that he scooped both girls up and quickly made his way to his office.

-A few staff members greeting him and the girls but not many stopped him.

-Once inside he set them down and went straight to work.

-The girls are really quiet in general.

-They pulled two chairs on either side of their father and sat there, coloring and doodling or just staring at his reports.

-Surprisingly, Ren asked some questions while Rei stayed quiet.

-The crowd at the entrance must have exhausted her social battery.

-Pushing his chair back, he pulled both of them on his lap kissing their foreheads before going back to his reports making small comments here and there to keep them updated.

-Rei fell asleep after half an hour and it was the cutest sight.

-Ren followed soon after, the little white and red haired humans clinging to his shirt like a life line as they snoozed off.

-He took a picture and send it to you making you jealous beyond belief.

I want cuddles too!!! 😣😣😣 Someone’s jealous.🥰🥰

-He leaned his head on one of them at some point and he too fell asleep.

-His secretary walked in to inform him of his father’s arrival and had heart eyes for the rest of the day.

-She took a picture and sent it to you, informing you that your husband was sleeping on the job.

-They were too cute though so she couldn’t bring herself to wake them up.

-But alas there’s no rest for the wicked so he woke up at some point.

-The rest of the day was spent with the three of them going to meetings, filing reports and training at the agency’s gym.

-Watching two mini Shoutos running around the gym pretending to train is top tier stuff.

Bonus

“Rei sweetheart don’t freeze your sister.”

“But she’s the bad guy!”

“Am not!” *flames flying*

“Ren don’t burn the place down.”

Shinsou Hitoshi

-Kei is actually the one who wanted to go to the agency.

-She had asked both you and Shinsou to take her with you one day.

-She may be using it as an excuse to skip day care but you do you hun.

-It was her birthday and the little shit used that to her advantage.

- “Can I come with you to work? Pretty please?”

- “Kei...”

- “And it’s my birthday today.”

-You just level Shinsou with a glare.

- This is all you

-Shrugs.

-Now you have no choice but to take her with you and hope that everything goes smoothly.

-The main reason why you didn’t want to bring her with you was the looming possibility that someone could attack and your little girl would be in extra danger.

-Hitoshi reassured you that everything would be fine.

- “Her parents are two of the best heroes in the industry, she’ll be completely fine. I promise.”

-He woke her up the next morning, scooping her up and bringing her to the kitchen for breakfast.

-She was really clingy in the mornings and wouldn’t function correctly if one of you didn’t hug her until she fully woke up.

-Hitoshi is really soft for her during her birthday.

-He’s soft for her everyday but today he’s ten times softer.

-Gets her dressed and ready for the agency and is out the door in no time.

-Shinsou talks about his family a lot.

-He has like fifteen photos of you and Kei in his office and a bunch of her drawings tapped to the wall.

-He adores his family okay?

-So your coworkers aren’t so surprised when they see the small mess of violet hair resting in his arms.

-She too doesn’t like crowds but won’t cower away.

-She’ll put on a brave face and greet the strangers with acute politeness.

-As long as one of you is in a ten inch radius she’ll be fine.

-She answers all the questions that are being thrown her way.

-She even sat there and suffered through a handful of cheek pinching.

-Shinsou sees her suffering and scoops her up, excusing them and taking her to his office.

-You kissed her forehead and headed out to your own office, making her promise to visit you at some point because you too need some cuddles during work.

- “We’ll catch bad guys momma!!”

-She is a curious little girl, so for the next two hours or so she’ll be exploring every nook and cranny of Hitoshi’s office, opening drawers and cabinets, digging through case files and boxes.

-Then she might play with Hitoshi’s capture tool before visiting you for an hour or two.

-You love having her attention but you know she’s simply taking a break from her dad’s office.

-She’ll be back to Shinsou in no time.

-Daddy’s girl.....it iz what it iz.

-Around noon she starts to get tired.

-If she was in day care she would be taking her daily nap.

-Her exploring tired her way too much and that’s why she’s now snoozing off in one of the armchairs in Hitoshi’s office.

-He draped his jacket over her and let her sleep.

-Later on you two took her to a meeting, allowing her some insight in the hero industry.

-Plus she gets to hear the tea.

-For training she tags along with you, doing some laps and trying -and failing- to do some push ups.

-At the end of the day she was exhausted, sleeping soundly on Hitoshi’s shoulder as you made your way home.

Bonus

“I don’t want her to grow up.”

“Well we could always make another one.”

“Way to be subtle mister....”

“Let me smash...”

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan @the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez

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wheelsup · 3 years

Text

studious

summary: spencer helps you get much needed rest as you study for finals category: fluff, spencer reid x gn!reader warnings: food mention, mortality joke wc: 1k.

A/N: thank you my love @reidtheprettyboy for making me this gif! go look at her pretty gifs for more 🥺 prompts are from my 750 celebration! “do i have to?” + “i love you, but i need you to go away because you’re really bloody distracting and i have to pass this test tomorrow.”.

“The brain’s ability to apply logic and reasoning functions better with 7.16 hours of sleep. Overall cognitive ability improves after 7.38 hours, or by adding 1.18 hours more to your usual amount.”

“That's nice.”

“You’ve only slept for three. That’s well below the recommended average. Though if you add just an hour — say, with a brief nap — it could improve your brain function, thereby making it easier for you to study.” “Go away, Spencer.”

“Spencer? No cute name? Did I get demoted suddenly?”

“Yes. You get demoted when you bother me.”

“I’m not bothering, I’m helping,” he laughs, wrapping two arms around your tense shoulders, pressing his lips to your throbbing temples. “You need some sleep.”

He’s right, you do. For days now, you’ve burned the candle at both ends — waking up early to study, staying up late to finish up, only to wake up and do it again the next morning. If it weren’t for Spencer inviting himself over to your place — bringing you snacks, refreshing your coffee pot (secretly switching you to decaf when necessary), and reminding you to wash your hair (a sad fact, admittedly) — you wouldn’t have seen a single other soul all week. He’s been helpful more times than you can count.

But right now, he’s getting in the way of you and a series of chapters you so desperately need to learn.

“I promise, I’ll sleep for three whole days when I pass this exam. Or when I’m dead — whichever comes first.”

“Uh-huh, that’s a good joke... but actually, sleeping more than 2.76 hours above your average is just as detrimental to brain function as not sleeping enough.”

You nod along, humming like you’re agreeing with him just to get him to stop his (very rightful) nagging. “That’s nice. Now, go. Away. Spencer.”

“Just let me help,” he pouts, resting his chin against the top of your head.

The full weight of his body leans onto your back, holding you down like a secure blanket and for the first time that day, you feel some comfort. Your sigh is felt through every ounce of you as you set down the pen you’ve held onto so tightly that it’s left indentation marks on your fingers.

“Just stay here with me. That’s helping.” You crane your neck up to meet his head and place a small kiss to the underside of his chin. You can feel him smile against you, and the small rumble in his throat from his giggle tickles your lips.

“And so are these,” you smirk, reaching up to steal the glasses from his face and slipping them on yours as you go back to reading, the words on the page now a lot closer to your strained eyes. He makes some comment about you ruining your vision with his insanely high prescription, but you don’t care. Wearing his things and the cute, false indignation he puts up when you take them, makes you happy.

“Okay, but this isn’t super comfortable,” he taps his chin in dramatic thought, pulling your desk chair, with you in it, back a little. “Can we study on your bed?”

“Do I have to?” You give him a pointed look, eyes narrowing in suspicion of what ploy he’s thinking of. Still, you follow him as he moves onto your bed. Not as if you have a choice, he stole all of your textbooks from you so you have to do what he says.

“Well you’re already here. Seems harder not to, now, doesn’t it?”

You roll your eyes at him and plop belly-down onto the mattress.

Oh. It’s so soft.

So unlike the hard, hard desk chair you’ve been sitting on for days.

And the covers are warm and inviting.

Spencer scoots himself closer, laying his chest on your back as you prop yourself on your elbows, textbook laying open in front of you. His head settles into the crook between your shoulder and neck, nuzzling into your skin as you read, arms bracing himself on either side of you. He’s boxed you in with his whole body, and all you can feel is his warmth.

By your furrowed eyebrows, he can tell you’re still tense, so he begins brushing your hair out of your eyes, dragging his fingers along your scalp and applying increasing pressure as they travel down to the base of your neck, rubbing small, soothing circles.

“You’re not cute,” you lie, shifting down the bed and relaxing more fully.

He presses a kiss to your shoulder, in the spot of bare skin that’s left exposed by your cardigan — really, his cardigan. Another piece you’ve stolen from him long ago that at some point he decided became more yours than his. Ours, as you preferred to think of it.

The hand not supporting his weight rubs up and down the sleeve, the friction leaving warm trails that he retraces over and over. Not that you can see, but he’s smiling, “I know.”

Following a big yawn, and a series of smaller, successive ones, you press on, “I love you, but... I need you to... go away because... you’re really... bloody distracting… and... I have to pass this test tomorrow.”

Your eyelids droop a bit, and you stretch them out, refocusing your vision on the pages that continue to taunt you. To no avail, it seems, as they start falling again, only getting heavier each time.

“Sure,” he continues stroking out your hair, recovering his glasses from your face so they stay out of your way as your head starts approaching the mattress. Your whole body slacks, and he hums happily when a soft snore escapes you, leaving one last peck along the top of your hairline, “I love you, too.”

thank you for being on my taglist 💕💕 i hope you enjoyed this brief, incredibly self indulgent blurb 💕

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@ellesgreenaway @suburban--gothic @ssa-sarahsunshine @sturmmhond @mercy-burning @reidspurple @mediocre-writer @honeyboysteezy @blondfrnk @andreasworlsboring101 @calm-and-doctor @drayshadow @reidgifs @you-sunshine @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @altsvu @reidtheprettyboy @goose-eats-god @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @amoeebaa @reidingmelodies @reidyoulikeabook @seasonfivereid @anaagraceeberr @spencerreid9 @luvofyourlifeliv @averyhotchner @spencerreidat3am @paw71211 @princesssmooshie @honeynico @gubeskneescrew @gourdboy @reid-me-a-story @reidabookforonce @spenxerslut @willowrose99 @realismisanexcusefornotbelieving

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds self insert #mgg #matthew gray gubler #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #my fic

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diavolosthots · 3 years

Note

I adore your work and I am so happy I caught you open request it's my first time! May I please request something with Diavolo handling his human exchange student being a kid who is like 6 who is convinced that Diavolo os their dad and clings to him crying when someone tries to take them away because they don't want to loose their dad scared of being alone again? 100000% platonic obvs. It just sounds cute and sad because Dia could probably relate to the poor kid and I'm a sucker for soft dia and found family stuff. As per your rules that I hope I'm getting right with mc being a kid being okay I want you to know this is not and oc just a basic sad little kid with family issues. Just don't want you to think it is when I swear ots not because of how detailed I felt I was giving. Sorry for rambling I really admire you and your skill and just am so nervous making a request.

Your rambling got cuter and cuter and I couldn't help myself from smiling. Yes this is okay and yes you've read the rules right :)

You're Not Not My Dad (DIAVOLO X GN!PLATONIC!CHILD!READER)

For a task he trusted the eldest with, he certainly didn’t think Lucifer would decide to let a literal child enter the Devildom. “Lord Diavolo, I swear I had no clue! On the paper it said 26, not 6!” Sure enough; a quick glance at the paper and it indeed said ‘age: 26’ and yet here they are, which a barely functioning human in a world they can’t even comprehend. “We can’t keep them here, under any circumstance.” Another quick glance at the child in front of him and then the pure fear they had in their eyes when they saw the rest of the demons in the room put Diavolo in a tough spot. “I will take them home immediately.” But the minute Lucifer tried to reach out for you, you jumped up and ran to Diavolo, clinging onto his pant leg and hiding behind him, “don’t let him take me, daddy!” Diavolo’s whole body stiffened at the name, “Daddy? I’m not your father.” But you would have none of it, still clinging to him and actually screaming out when Barbatos tried to pry you off. “It’s okay Barbatos, I’ll just take them.” He mainly said that because your screaming was unbearable but when he leaned down to pick you up so he could take you back, you had tears streaming down your cheeks and he hates admitting that it actually broke his heart, “why are you crying little one?” “Because the bad men want to take me away from you, daddy.” You snuggled into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and clinging to him for dear life, and for once in his own life, Diavolo wasn’t quite sure on what to do.

That was a couple months ago. No matter how many times he tried to take you back home, you’d find a way to cling to him, kicking and screaming for him to not leave you too, so he decided to keep you, at least for a little while. He made sure to remind you every day that he was certainly not your father, but you never believed him so he gave up at some point and decided to just have a serious talk with you when you’re older and more willing to listen and comprehend. “Daddy!” Sadly, having you around also meant that he barely had time to get enough things done and Barbatos was constantly running after you and not getting things done, either. Speaking of Barbatos, he’s still salty about the time you decided to bite his tail and has made it a point to never be in his demon form around you. “My Lord, I’m so sorry, I can’t seem to keep (Y/N) occupied.”

In all honesty, Diavolo’s eye was twitching because this is the third meeting you decided to interrupt, not this week, but today alone. “(Y/N). Please listen to Barbatos.” You climbed up in his chair, sitting proudly and taking random papers from his desk, pretending to read them, “vetoed! Trashed! Wait… this one looks cool, it has a seal on it!” Diavolo snatched that one from you so fast, you could’ve thought it was just your imagination, “(Y/N), are you listening to me? I said you ha--!” “Daddy look, if you take two pens and hold it up, it looks like Barbatos has horns!” Barbatos was also getting mildly irritated but he was trying so hard to keep his calm. “(Y/N), why don’t you listen to Lord Diavolo? I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to play with you at the en--!” “Look Daddy, I’m wearing your coat!” You seemed so happy, so full of life and as much as it inconvenienced him right now, Diavolo couldn’t bring himself to get stern with you, and he didn’t have to. “(Y/N)! Listen to what people are telling you!” Because it was Barbatos who lost his cool, and apparently also his manners.

The loud sound of his voice along with the fact that his smile dropped to a glare had the whole room silent. Even Lucifer who was part of the meeting, managed to stand at attention. No one remembers the last time Barbatos lost his patience and all of them wondered if he ever lost his patience before this, but that’s not the issue now. Your lip was quivering, tears threatening to spill over as small sobs escaped your mouth, “no…” Diavolo knew what would be next and he doesn’t have the heart or the time for it. “Ssh.. It’s okay, come here. Daddy’s got you.” He quickly picks you up, holding you against his chest and stroking through your hair lovingly, trying to keep you from screaming out. A crying you was a very loud you and he’s trying to save everyone’s ears from that spiel. “Barbatos, take Lucifer and leave, please.” The butler, as much as he wanted to just yank the kid back to human realm, could do nothing but nod, his usual smile returning to his face as he bowed, “of course, My Lord.” He waited until Lucifer went ahead of him, following suit and then closing the door behind him.

Diavolo let out a long sigh, seating himself back in his chair and then propping you up in his lap. He pulled you back far enough to look at you, golden eyes soft while one of his hands continued to stroke through your hair, “he didn’t mean it, but he does have a point. You can’t keep interrupting me all the time, (Y/N).” You brought one of your hands up to wipe some of the tears before leaning back against him, burying your chest in his face, “b-but…. I just want to spend time with you, Daddy…” Another sigh escaped Diavolo as his mind raced to find solutions, turning left to right in his chair kind of in a rocking motion as he did so. “I know that, but I have things I need to get done before I can have fun time with you.” Diavolo rested his cheek against your head, staring at the paperwork on his desk and then at the sealed piece of paper that he took from you earlier.

“What if… when I don’t have a meeting, what if I set up a small desk for you right here, right beside mine, and we can work together, hm? How does that sound?” Your head immediately lifted off of his shoulder, a wide smile evident on your lips and Diavolo felt his heart settle with content at the sight, “yes! I want that, Daddy! And then you and I can rule together!” Diavolo laughed softly, shaking his head, “hm… we’ll see about that. You have to promise me you’ll listen to Barbatos though AND you have to leave when I have meetings, okay?” You nodded, holding up your tiny pinky, “pinky promise!” which Diavolo gladly wrapped around his before kissing it softly, turning you back around in his lap so you can watch him go through some paperwork. Part of him just hopes you’ll find this boring and leave, but a tiny, other part of him hopes you’ll stick around for a little while longer.

You may not be his child, but you’ve grown on him, and at this point, he’d do anything for you so as long as it didn’t put the Devildom in danger. He loves you, as if you were his own.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me lord diavolo #shall we date diavolo #om! diavolo #obey me diavolo #diavolo obey me #obey me diavolo x reader

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stonefreeak · 3 years

Text

My goodness people, I’m so sorry for the delay! I’ve been working on the structuring of my files to get a better overview of what remains of the project, to hopefully be able to speed writing up (even as work really means that my free-time is much more limited than it was once upon a time, lmao. Sometimes I miss December of 2016 when this whole thing started, 33k in a month of updates, amirite?)

it’s taken me so long I’m wondering if anyone even remember this plot point at this point, lmao

Also: belated happy midsummers to all my fellow Swedes!

Bail taps his finger against this desk and stairs unseeingly at the datapad in front of him.

He hadn't been sure if the information Aleena Yashi gave him, though she's worked as an assistant to multiple senators over the years, was true. But everything checks out. He briefly wondered why she would come to him about it, rather than Senator Lobos who she's currently working for... But perhaps it's because he's known to have a favourable view of the Jedi that she's done so. Perhaps it's because all of this information mostly pertains to the Jedi and the laws surrounding them, and she wanted a prominent Senator who she could trust not to hide the information away because they don't care for the Jedi.

Bail, a Core World Senator well known for his good relationship with the Jedi and friendship with the current Supreme Chancellor, must have seemed like the best option for her. He wonders who else would have been on her list, before she settled on him, but he chose not to ask when she visited him. Perhaps it's better if he doesn't know; it hardly matters now anyway.

He looks down at the datapad again and considers his options.

He should probably discuss her findings with her, and see what exactly her goal is. If he's to do something about this, then he wants her involved even as he gathers support from other senators.

He has no doubt that Padmé will agree to add her support to Bail to help sort this mess out, but considering that they've both been involved with the investigation they're conducting into Jedi missions being altered... Well, Bail wants more Senators involved this time. Just to ensure that it cannot be taken as some form of conspiracy in favour of the Jedi. As ridiculous as that notion seems, Bail is not blind to the way many Senators look at the Jedi, nor to the fact that many of them don't seem to believe that they're really capable of what they say they are.

Few people besides the Jedi truly believe in the Force, after all.

Few people could believe in something they cannot know for themselves when others supposedly have a direct connection to it. Bail is one of the few who does believe them, he's seen what the Jedi can do first-hand. There's nothing else that can account for that kind of power besides this Force they talk of. They and other groups out there, it’s not only the Jedi, after all.

Besides, he knows many of them personally, and while Bail may not understand or follow all of their beliefs or traditions, he also knows that they're not a bunch of charlatans faking it for power of money—though he knows some of his fellow senators believe that to be the case. Even senators on Coruscant, who've seen Jedi in real life, seem to believe them little more than myth.

Bail has been kept up to date on the investigation into the Jedi missions, though he’s not taking an active role in it right now, and he’s certain that he has been kept in the loop to give legitimacy to the investigation. Give it a proper paper trail, even if it’s done with the Senate’s highest level of security. A strictly need-to-know basis, and until it’s finished, no one else needs to know.

Of course, Bail asked Obi-Wan in private if he would be allowed to tell Breha. As his Queen and the leader of Bail’s planet, he found it important to clue her in on it. Besides, it’s another step of legitimacy. After all, if Breha takes an active stance on it, then so does Alderaan.

If anyone wants to accuse the investigation at a later date for being a sham… Well, they will need to accuse Alderaan of engaging in it in the first place. Bail isn’t stupid enough to think that it’s not one of the primary reasons Obi-Wan agreed with Bail’s request.

They’re friends, and Obi-Wan likes Breha, but this is not about being friends. This is about political allyship and keeping sensitive information on as tight a lock-down as they can until the time to reveal it comes.

Besides, as worried as Bail has become with Miss Yashi’s information, it’s even worse when considered together with the altered Jedi missions and not in the least… Well, the war time propaganda. There's no point in shying away from what it is, and the ramifications it has.

Considering how most of the war time propaganda—Bail can acknowledge it for what it is, there truly is no point in trying to deny the facts—focuses almost exclusively on the clones and their efforts in the war, it's hardly strange that the general population neither know nor understand them.

Further considering the information that Bail has now confirmed to be real and accurate... He understands that the omission of the Jedi is entirely deliberate. If you want to discredit and undermine the Jedi, why would you ever speak of their accomplishments and sacrifices? You wouldn't, as that would bring public support to them.

Bail sighs and rolls his shoulders.

He needs to build a following, he cannot properly push this alone. But he also understands why Miss Yashi brought it to him alone, first. A Core World Senator is far harder to make "disappear" than a Twi'lek Senatorial aide, no matter how awful that is to say. Bail can't go missing, and any attempt on his life would have a bit more trouble hitting its mark.

That's not to say that it would be impossible for someone to assassinate him, which is of course why he'll make sure that Breha is entirely up to speed on everything.

All of it together... There is some form of conspiracy to discredit or perhaps even get rid of the Jedi; Bail is sure of it. But he cannot see to what end. What are they trying to achieve?

For what reason would anyone work to discredit the Jedi? What is the end goal to strive for? There’s no way for the politicians to dissolve the Jedi Order, they are not in that way under Senate control. They could, of course, remove all of their backing, forcing the Jedi to become free agents, certainly…

But for what purpose? It would leave the Republic without the Jedi as peacekeepers, for the Jedi would hardly remain to do diplomacy work for the Senate without its backing. After all, what would the point be? Without the Senate’s backing, the Jedi would have far less ability to do anything.

How could they negotiate treaties if the Senate won’t honour them?

They could, perhaps, be a neutral third party within discussions. But there’s no reason for anyone to listen to their input in such a case. It’s hard enough to get disagreeing parties to listen to external input when you come with powerful backing that could make you listen even if you refuse.

How could they function with no funding? They would need to work on commission, at which point only those who can afford their help can get it. That would be the opposite of an improvement.

To not even begin to talk about how few of them there are, how few of them there were even before the war. Their population is not even a hundredth of a percent of Alderaan’s population, and Alderaan is only a single planet within the tens of thousands of star systems that make up the Republic—nevermind the entire galaxy. There’s just not enough of them, and hasn’t that always been a problem even while they’re working under the Republic? Too few, spread too thin.

No, if the Jedi became free agents, their ability to affect change would be greatly diminished. Bail is quite certain they’d work on much smaller scales, still trying to do what they can for the galaxy, bit by bit. Working with smaller communities on planets and moons… If they even had the ability to find out about disputes that may need their help in the first place.

Losing the Jedi as peacekeepers isn’t a win for the Republic either, as the budget for the Jedi was already miniscule even before it started being diminished—as Miss Yashi’s discovery shows. It cannot be an attempt at cost saving, or an idea of improvement for the Republic. Needing to train their own diplomats and ensure that they have skilled enough guards… That would be more expensive and it would not be able to guarantee that these diplomats are neutral in conflicts.

The Jedi have no specific allegiances the way diplomats and even Senators have. Even the least corrupt Senator will still place their own planet and star system first. It is part of their role, after all.

So no, it cannot be something like that. Not unless the people slowly enacting this are horribly misguided and foolish. Not to mention, Bail knows most Senators would simply call for making away with the Jedi entirely, rather than this slow plan to undercut them.

No… There must be something else going on here, some other primary goal whoever is pulling these strings is looking out to do.

He’ll need to figure it out, no doubt, Bail concludes.

But beyond that, he also needs to build a base to help him bring this information he’s been given to the Senate’s attention. He is quite sure already who he should be looking towards first: Senator Ach’ki Mandai of Haa’ndu.

Who better to help him bring this to Senate attention than the Senator who ensured a Jedi now sits as the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic?

—

(Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi masterpost)

#Supreme Chancellor Obi Wan Kenobi #star wars #bail organa #update #my writing

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stevenbasic · 3 years

Text

"Let’s chat,” Olivia had said, after directing me to sit. She watched as I did, then smiled, and then turned to look around the room, my small office.

Olivia was a friend of my wife, new, for maybe the past year. I’d only met her a handful of times, at the house and at a couple functions. Though Sheryl always spoke highly of her, how much fun she could be, she always struck me as a bit aloof, even a bit haughty. Maybe she just doesn’t like me, I’d always found myself thinking. And here she was, in my office, looking around like she owned the place. How had she gotten involved?!? I’d figured her as a slightly strange loner of a woman, just a suburbanite friend of my wife - though apparently I’d underestimated her...

Olivia slowly began to step around the room, inspecting the texts I had in my bookshelf, running a finger up and down the spine of my PDR. Olivia was maybe a few years older than Sheryl and me, but she always looked amazing. Tall, red-headed and curvy, she must have been drop-dead gorgeous in her youth. But she’d been single her whole life, as far as I knew. Childless? Honestly, I didn’t know that much about her, only what Sheryl had told me…and I have to admit I probably hadn’t been listening.

“You have some nice old books here,” she said, casually, pulling Loewy’s Textbook of Medical Ethics from the shelf, cracking it open. Apparently she was a physician, and a PhD as well <tweak image?>. Had Sheryl ever mentioned that? I remembered chatting with her at the house a few times, when she’d come to have a glass of wine with my wife. That we both practiced medicine never came up was weird. In honesty, though, I’d probably never spoken to her more than a few minutes at a time, always being shooed away to leave the two ladies to their girl talk.

As I watched Olivia thumb through the book, my eyes did a quick up-and-down of her stunning figure. I remembered one summer day at the house, after having been dismissed by the women, going to spy on her and Sheryl from the upstairs window as they sunbathed by the pool in the backyard. My view down Olivia’s black, one-piece bathing suit had been phenomenal, and I’d found myself furtively jerking off to the sight of her big white breasts. Still semi-thick down my leg, I grabbed myself under my desk and gave myself a squeeze. Jesus her tits and ass are both big.

“So, uh, Olivia,” I began, still watching as she returned the book to its shelf, slowly turning on her heels to saunter around the room and inspect the degrees I had hanging on the wall, “You’re a physician?” Eyeing her body in her black blouse and tight, knee-length skirt, I continued to marvel at her curves, and squeezed myself again. Nnnnnff. Though she was soft with some years, good genetics and probably some time in the gym kept her in really great shape. “What speciality?”

“Oh, I was research, mostly,” she answered, reaching out with one finger to touch, possessively, my medical degree, wipe a line of dust off the top of its frame. She was not, obviously, all that keen on being too forthcoming, or even just plain friendly. Hopefully she didn’t realize I was, under my desk, slowly rubbing myself through my pants to the sight of her broad hips.

I did remember, however, now that she’d mentioned the research, something Sheryl had said, about how Olivia had made her money, a biomedical start-up years ago. But supposedly that had been in the past, and she spent her time in politics now, managing the campaign of some female candidate. If I recalled, Olivia had come from a political family, and had fallen into the role naturally.

She was now nonchalantly looking through a pile of file folders I had on a cabinet. So, I found myself thinking, even as my dick grew harder for her, if she’d never really practiced, clinically, and had been away from medicine for this long, what on god’s green earth qualified her to be our ‘Clinical Director’??

“So, Olivia,” I found myself asking, thinking I was lightening the mood, boldly cracking some ice, “are you my boss now?”

Her bluntness shocked me.

“Yes in fact I am,” she said, plainly, turning now to face me, “Sheryl and I both are.” The light from my window caught her eyes, reminding me of how it had done the same to Melissa’s just a few minutes earlier. Olivia’s green eyes, though, seemed to absorb the sun into themselves, like magic, glittering gems. It intensified her gaze, pulling me in with a sudden intimacy that grabbed me by the loins. “We are your superiors.”

<gulp>

Abruptly cowed, I let go of my now-throbbing erection, afraid that I might erupt in my slacks. I tried to find words, thinking I should say something in defense, something snarky to assert myself, but my voice was caught in my chest.

“Melissa will handle administration, I’ll guide the clinical staff,” Olivia continued in explanation, seeing I’d been properly unnerved and releasing me from her gaze. She began to stroll towards my desk, again, looking at the anatomy chart I had hanging on the opposite wall. “The MA’s, the nurses and clinicians, they’ll all report to me. You included.” I was thankful, again, that I wasn’t standing. She’d be so much taller than me. Wait what?!?

So I, apparently, was now to be just another clinician? This couldn’t stand! ”What will I do?” I asked, speaking too quickly, hearing the petulance in my own voice, “What will be my title?”

Olivia fought back a satisfied smile and answered me as she approached the chair in front of my desk. “Oh, you’re still a partial owner,” she said, now trying to reassure me of my continued significance, as diminished as it was, “but a title? You want a title?” She sat down, now, across the desk from me, and thought. “Hm,” she decided, “You can be ‘Lead Clinical Physician’. Will that work?”

”I’m the ONLY physician!” I blurted.

To that, Olivia laughed. Tolerantly, she continued. ”How about you just be you?” she offered, with a smile meant to placate me, a glimmer in her eyes that once again reminded me of Melissa, “You worry about seeing patients, you make sure you do what you need for the Evolution study.” Obviously she knew that I was upset, that I’d felt belittled and sidelined. She sat up straight, and went on seeking to soothe me. “You'll have plenty of help,” she said, “I’ll make sure everything runs smoothly here, that patients are getting the care they need.”

Speechless, I felt humiliated. Cast aside, all but mothballed. And, lest we forget, by women.

“Oh, c’mon,” Olivia laughed, reaching her left hand across the desk, laying it palm-down in front of me, “Yes, I’ll be your Clinical Director, but it’s just a title. You all know what you’re doing.” She had her eyes on me; I looked down at her hand, the emerald she wore on her ring finger. It was striking. “I won’t even be here most days,” she assured me, “I’m so busy with the election. You’ll barely see me.”

Feeling a wave of sadness overtake me, washing away whatever ire I’d still held, I continued to look down at her ring, her large, well-manicured nails. What did she want, with her hand there? For me to hold it? Maybe I should…

She waited for me to speak, to say something. Saying anything, though, to me seemed like I would be acknowledging the facts, as would taking her hand. Inaction, passivity, was easier. It could be a silent signal that I was unhappy with the new changes.

I heard her draw a deep breath, let it out in frustration.

”Okay, fine,” she huffed, a new edge in her voice, “What is it? Do you feel emasculated? Hm? Is that it?”

I looked up at her in shock, feeling my lip quivering.

“Good, you deserve it,” she said plainly, continuing, sitting back and straightening her shoulders, “After the way you made Sheryl feel all these years, with the affairs, you should feel emasculated. What sort of man does that, acts like that? So childish…” Her green, gleaming eyes were spitting poison, now, in obvious solidarity with her friend, my wife. I had to look down, back at her hand, the stone in her emerald ring.

“My god, after all she’s done for you?” she continued, unrelenting, “She’s supported you from the beginning, built you this nice, comfortable life while she worked ten times as hard as you. Even in the face of all the other women, the girls you fell to through the years, she’d had faith in you, that you could change.”

I squirmed in humiliation, knowing she was speaking the truth, but disbelieving it myself. How had I done this, let myself become this person? And, Jesus, how could I still be getting harder?! What the fuck is wrong with me?!? The green jewel on her finger glittered back, but gave me no answer.

“Well, you’ve proven it, you've proven you can’t change,” she spat, “So we’re going to change everything around you, change ourselves.”

I was shaking, under her diatribes, defenseless. I felt the strength in her voice, the conviction. Olivia was determined, had become a powerful person through her talents and hard work. I felt like a worm.

“Yes, we’re all working to improve ourselves, while you just do…nothing,” she said, “We’re getting better, smarter, stronger. You’re going to have to just sit there and watch while we all grow around you.”

My breath was coming fast, I was trying to keep myself from groaning or, good god, whining. My cock continued to harden, throbbing against my thigh. Goddamnit why didn’t I jerk off this morning?? I still stared at her hand because I was afraid if I looked up at her face or god help me her tits I would come right there, explode into my pants.

She had paused.

“Are you looking at my ring?” she asked, her voice softer now. Laid out on the desk between us, her hand flexed, long fingers straightening to show off her jewel. “It was my mother’s, she wanted me to have it,” she told me, as I looked at it, admiring it’s rich green beauty. It really was impressive. “It matches my necklace.”

At that, my eyes were finally drawn up, away from her left hand as her right had come to her chest, the neckline of her blouse. I watched as she undid a single button and revealed inches of white, creamy cleavage and a necklace with a green, matching stone. The jewel was huge, spherical, the size of a human eye, nestled just above her big breasts. I tried my best to keep my eyes on it and not let them fall into her cleavage, but couldn’t fight what felt like an unseen force secretly moving my hand back to grab my cock through my pants. I was speechless, though I heard myself emit a little moan of admiration.

“What's wrong?” Olivia asked, an amused interest in her voice, “You like looking at my necklace?”

“It’s…” I began, gazing at the green stone, seeing how it, like her eyes, seemed to capture the light in the room, “…it’s beautiful.” It seemed to gaze back at me, from right above the deep valley of her soft, inviting cleavage.

“Thank you,” she purred. She stretched her arm out closer to me, turning her hand over on the desk in front of me. “Now, take my hand,” she said, a new, patient charity in her voice.

“w-what..?” I managed.

“Take my hand,” she repeated, and I watched my own free left hand place itself in hers, my right hand still covertly wrapped around my shaft, intermittently squeezing it, stroking it, pressing it into my thigh.

“And now, back at my necklace,” she directed, with composed sympathy.

“o-o-Olivia..?” I peeped. My eyes were now up at hers, pleadingly, but as she drew a deep breath I couldn’t do anything but drop my gaze back down to her chest. The green stone had dropped a fraction and now lay just between the uppermost swells of her breasts. It had captured my eyes with its own. “oh, god…” I heard myself say.

“shhhh…” she whispered, indulgently, “C’mon. This shouldn’t be a surprise.” Her chest began to rise and fall with slow, purposeful breaths, the bulges of her breasts swelling to embrace the green jewel, and then fall away again. “We’ve surrounded you with eye candy so far, and here I am. Another tall, bosomy woman in the office for you. So…just enjoy.” Another deep breath, breasts enveloping the stone, and then dropping away. I’d begun to slowly stroke myself under the desk, and didn’t have the force of will to stop. “It’s been nice, hm? Having all these girls?” she continued, allowing herself a girlish giggle, “And I’d always noticed the way you look at me when I’ve come to see Sheryl. I knew you were a physician, a smart, respected guy. But it made me think of you as so…”

Another deep breath, and the stone all but disappeared.

“…small.”

I fucking whined.

Olivia smiled. “But that can be all water under the bridge,” she offered, her voice warming generously, “I think you and I can have a nice, professional relationship. Between Melissa and I we’ll make sure you’ll be well taken care of, by all your women.”

Somehow, I was able to tear my eyes up off her chest. “n-no…Olivia…that’s n-“

“What? Isn’t that every man’s dream?” she asked, doing something with her free right hand, some movement, “To be surrounded by a harem of young, beautiful women, doing everything, taking care of all the details?”

“n-no..but, y-…yes but…” I floundered, as a quick something changed in the air. I looked down, to my left, and on the desk was a piece of paper. Had that been there before? The whole time? Melissa must have left it.

I looked down at it, even as I still brainlessly rubbed my cock. It was a short statement, something for me to sign. It was on our company letterhead. I read the first few sentences in a fog, my mind really only realizing the purpose of the agreement when I reached the final phrase:

“…cedes all authority to and acknowledges the authority of Olivia M. Henders, MD as Clinical Director of Far Horizons Medical Associates.”

Her left hand had left mine; her right was handing me a pen.

“We’re going to ask you to step back from your responsibilities at the hospital as well,” Olivia explained, trying to hide the satisfaction in her voice as I mindlessly signed the paper, “Vida can handle your rounds, she and Morgan and Karen can take over your admitting privileges.”

“w-what..?” I asked, weakly protesting though I barely understood what she was telling me, more focused now on my hand rubbing away at my cock.

“After what happened this week, yesterday,” she continued, taking the pen from my hand, “the new Chief Medical Officer at the hospital called us. She suggested the leave of absence.” She took the paper, inspected my signature. “Until you get your health back under control.”

I’d heard about her, the new woman at xxx. I’d known her for years as a physician. She’d risen in the ranks, administratively, finally landing the top job and had already removed some of the old-time guys from the hospital staff. So now it was no surprise she wanted me gone, too. But..if I didn’t have hospital privileges…?

“b-but…no…” <stroke stroke stroke> Jesus I just need to fucking come

“It’s a done deal already,” Olivia said, looking down at the mug of warm milk Melissa had made for me, “the board of directors has spoken. It’s what we want.”

“w-we…?” <stroke stroke stroke> oh god don’t tell me.

“Yes, it’s so exciting,” she said, eyes back now watching mine, which had fallen again to her bosom and its green stone, “the first all-female hospital board in the state. Including myself…and Sheryl.”

Suddenly, it all became clear. This was Sheryl’s idea.

Shit. <stroke stroke stroke><faster faster faster>

“She sends her best, by the way,” Olivia smiled as she watched me. Did she see my eyes flutter, as my climax began to grab me? If she knew what was going on below the table, only a slight curl to her lips gave it away. “You really should sign those divorce papers…”

She pushed my mug towards me, as I exploded in my pants.

“…and drink your milk.”

==========================

Many thanks to my brother-in-arms TopographicSociety for his help with the image, giving Olivia her necklace.

#growing into the job

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etherealeeknow · 3 years

Text

we have each other

• rated m for mature (along with a pinch of angst? and fluff)

• pairing: soft dom!minho x fem!reader

• wc: 1.420

• tw: arguing with minho, dirty talk, grinding, slight nipple play, explicit language, unprotected vaginal sex (remember to always stay safe!), bathtub sex, soft sex, creampie,- i think that’s all, please do tell me if you find more c:

• note: lmao i was aiming for a drabble but def got carried away while writing this- plus, this is my first smut after a decade 😂 so fingers crossed you’ll enjoy it! feedbacks are much appreciated <3 also, please kindly note that english isn’t my first language. therefore, i apologize for any mistakes.

—

“holysh- this better not be- fuck!” you grunt on the unpleasant sight and smell coming from your favorite sneaker as you mentally do a karate chop to whoever let their dog poo in the middle of the crosswalk. jumping on one leg, you almost make it to the sidewalk when all of a sudden, it starts raining cats and dogs. gripping onto your handbag as tightly as you can, you run with all your might while spitting out endless curses, the situation on your left shoes long forgotten as the only thing you want right now is to get under your roof.

yet, the cycle of your bad luck doesn’t stop when you get to your destination as the one and only functioning elevator in the old apartment building is out of service. “it was totally fine this morning!” you say out loud, earning nothing in return from the ignorant security who’s half asleep by his desk. sighing, you stomp your way to the stairs. the day’s gonna be longer.

once you reach the seventh floor and spot your apartment door, you feel like crying out of happiness, but it doesn’t last long as the realization hits you that you lost your key last week and haven’t gotten the chance to get a copy. “dear heavens, why are you doing this-” your sentence is cut off when the door clicks open right when you get in front of it, barely having the chance to knock; revealing the sight of minho with his poker face, shooting you a look. “don’t,” you warn without sparing a glance as you make your way inside to hurriedly grab your needs so not much damage will be done from your drenching self.

“why didn’t you pick up my calls?” silence. “i asked you a question, y/n,” you can hear the sound of his gritting teeth even when you’re back facing him. turning around, you only glare at him before heading to the bathroom, only to spin around when he calls your name again. “really, minho? you honestly expect me to return your calls after last night? did you hit your head and forget that you literally told me to fuck off?” silence. “exactly. now please, go mind your own business and let me mind my own.” swinging the bathroom door open, you’re welcomed with the view of your cramped bathroom, now all squeaky clean and filled with tealight candles- even your bathtub has been filled with bubbles.

“min-” a tiny gasp escapes your lips when minho wraps his hands around your shoulder and his lips come in contact with your neck, kissing it softly. “h- hey, i’m all wet and sweaty,” you say, yet having no intention to stop him. “mmm, don’t care. all i want is to make you even wetter.” one by one, he unbuttons your shirt and lets it hit the floor. he draws circles around your tummy before sliding a finger in your bra, playing with your hardened nipple and making you shiver under him. “i see you’re finally cold now, huh, my hot headed baby? you want me to warm you up?” you instantly nod, sparing no time, and minho does the same—unclasping your bra while you shimmy out of your culottes and undies.

patience has always been in your virtue, but today is an exception. you miss minho so badly, his touch, his kiss, him. you want him. sure, the episode last night between the two of you leaves a certain scar somewhere on your heart, but it can’t compete with the love you have for him. you hurriedly help him undress and he chuckles, making you reddened along the process. once you look up to him, though, he’s already looking at you ever so fondly, the light in his eyes shines so bright and you just can’t take it anymore. you pull him into a kiss and feel his hand on your neck, his thumb stroking the lobule of your ear for quite some time before he bites your lower lip and you let him in to take control.

“up,” he mutters in between the kiss, tapping your foot as a signal, and you oblige; jumping slightly to wrap your legs around his waist, and you can feel the tip of his cock lightly hitting your bum. your kiss comes to a halt for quite some time when minho goes into the tub and slowly sinks down. both of you groans in satisfaction upon feeling the warm water. “i’m sorry,” minho says as his hand reaches out to caress your cheek while the other remains around your waist, pulling you even closer till there’s no more room separating you. “i didn’t mean anything i said to you last night, but that doesn’t mean i’m not at fault. i’ll fix myself for you, y/n. i know you want it as much as i do, but you’re right, things aren’t going as planned so we should take it slow for it to work out. please let me work on it with you?”

his last words come out almost in a whisper and it brings you to tears as you struggle to tell him that he doesn’t need to ask for your permission. minho has been your number one support for half of the decade. through the seemingly never ending hardships, he’s always there, so if arguing over big and small matters is what it’s gonna take for you to marry him, then so be it—because you know that at the end of the day, it’ll only strengthen your feelings for each other. feeling his eyes getting teary, minho nuzzles against your neck, out of words to say, and it softens you even more.

you take the chance to start grinding on his dick and whimper shyly, “please make love to me, minho. i need you.” that definitely brings his attention back to you and all the emotional thoughts vanish to the back of his head. unlike the usual minho who lives to tease you and could go on for hours with only sliding his cock up and down on your slit, the minho he is today only wants to give you everything you want. your moans mixing with one another when he lifts you up and guides you down by your hips, piercing through you—your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel him stretching you while he’s in the same state, already feeling on cloud nine when he feels you clenching around him. right when you’re about to ask him to move, minho pulls out of you slams back in, making you cry in pure pleasure as you begin to buck your hips against his, craving for more.

though short of breath, minho manages to chuckle at your eagerness. “baby, let me take care of you,” he says, cheeks all flushed from the heat. he proceeds to take care of the situation, going in and out of you steadily before fastening his pace. “oh my god, min- minho, ah!” you moan, partly for the ecstasy of feeling so full, but mostly because he has hit your sweet spot and the familiar knot’s finally starting to build up on your stomach. “f- faster, please, please, please-” you beg, voice now a pitch higher, yet unbothered by the possibility that the neighbors might be able to hear how minho is making you cry over his cock.

“cum with me- ah, fuck! cum around my dick, baby-” with his desperate plea and the way he twitches in you, it only takes a few more thrusts before a wave of pleasure washes over you and you cum around him while letting out a choked moan—minho follows only a second after, both his body and voice shaking over his own climax. the room’s now only filled with your heavy breathings, but they, especially minho’s, sound like music to your ears. right when your head leaves his shoulder and you lock eyes with him, everything turns black.

“you have got to be kidding me-” you groan, this time in disbelief and annoyance, but it quickly changes into a chortle when you lay your eyes on the tealight candles surrounding you. “good thing my boyfriend has set these romantic candles for me,” you joke, making minho laugh along as he, again, pulls you towards him, wanting to be as close as possible with you. “i know, right? and at least we have each other.”

“at least we have each other.”

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seasonofthewicth · 3 years

Text

next to you

I’ve wanted to write this exact scenario for rowaelin for so long and today I was supposed to write for agkol so obviously this came out. Rowaelin - 2.4k

part 2

“It’s totally fine,” Aedion says, his broad arm a warm weight around her shoulders as they both take in the room before them. And the bed. Aelin doesn’t move to take a step any further than their perch in the doorway. “He’s away for the weekend, he won’t know.”

A more sober Aelin would probably protest, but as it is she’s had a couple too many glasses of wine and she really doesn’t fancy having to order an Uber back to her own place.

She had come over to Aedion’s under the pretence of watching a movie with her cousin and his girlfriend, but she had made the first mistake of inviting Dorian who had made the second mistake of bringing the wine.

One thing had led to another which had led to the four of them lying around in various states of non-sobriety in the roof garden of Aedion’s building. At one point she’d slung on his fleece for extra warmth as she curled into Lysandra’s side as they watched the stars. Aedion and Dorian had stood at the railings looking over the city, sharing a smoke as they spoke in voices too low for Aelin to hear.

All in all, a good night.

The view from the roof terrace catches her breath each time she visits, it’s high enough to capture the lines of the city in all directions and being so high up, at such a step back, always feels like a breath of fresh air.

Aedion has a cool apartment, one she wishes she could afford, with it’s basement gym, the scenic garden and it’s unfailing hot water system. It’s a shame she doesn’t spend more time here.

She chews her lip as she takes in the tidy bedroom before her, the crisp green sheets on the bed, the orderly desk in the corner with only a laptop and a lamp atop it, the laundry hamper in the corner surely holding the dirty clothes that in Aelin’s place live on the floor until she can bring herself to wash them.

It wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world to crash in Aedion’s roommate’s bed for the night. Like Aedion says, he’s away for the weekend and she can change the sheets afterwards so he'll never know she was there.

She can’t believe she’s actually considering it but the wine is wearing off slightly now leaving her feeling like she wants to collapse into the giant bed and bury herself beneath the covers.

“Well,” Aedion says from her side, his voice only slightly slurred. “It’s here if you want it. I’m going to hit the hay. Whatever you decide, don’t walk home. I can call you a cab.”

“You’re sure he’s away for the weekend?” Aelin says as she shrugs out from underneath his arm.

“Hundred percent,” Aedion nods as she steps closer towards the welcoming bed.

Well, it’s decided then.

“Ah,” Aelin moans as she finally collapses onto the bed. She can’t believe she ever considered getting a taxi home, the sheets beneath her cheek are luxuriously soft and the mattress - gods the mattress. She could sink into it and stay here forever, it cups and moulds around each of her curves and she can’t help the sigh of satisfaction that slips out of her.

Aedion’s laugh sounds from behind her as he shuts the door. “Night, Ae.”

Her own response is muffled into the brushed cotton beneath her. She lies still for a moment, resting her eyes as the buzz of the booze settles into her. There’s a thrumming beneath her skin, and the room spins somewhat as she lays still with her eyes shut gently against the sensations. Her fingertips are definitely tingling, a sign that she knows she’ll feel rotten in the morning, but for now the bliss of a dark room and a soft bed beneath her are all that her mind can care to contemplate.

It’s been a while since she’s hung out with her cousin, both of them just busy, and she’s missed him. She’s missed the easy companionship they have and the slick conversations they have, only aided tonight by the presence of Dorian and Lysandra and the wine.

She snorts a laugh into the sheets and the movement causes the button of her jeans to dig into her stomach. She forces herself up with a groan and just manages to tug off the stiff denim, slinging the offending item across the room somewhere.

She laughs to herself at the thought of her already messing up such a clean room.

She doesn’t know Aedion’s roommate that well. She knows he’s called Rowan, and that he’s twenty-eight and now she knows that he has a disgustingly tidy room. Or he did, she adds to herself as she throws her top to the other side of the room.

Rowan only moved in with her cousin a couple of months ago, but from his room she can guess he’s uptight and quite possibly deathly boring. How Aedion lives with someone like that she doesn’t know, Aelin’s own roommates - Manon and Elide - are the perfect level of chaos with just enough order to function.

Aelin considers her options as she slumps on the corner of his bed, clad only in her underwear. Sleeping in a bra is uncomfortable but would she want to be naked in this stranger’s bed? Whether or not she changes the sheets afterwards he could be sweaty or gross or worse. He could have had guests in this bed before her.

Her gaze lands on a chest of drawers tucked against the wall on the far side of the room and before she knows she’s tiptoeing across and tugging open a drawer. Bingo. In-keeping with the rest of the room there are rows and rows of neatly folded t-shirts and before she can second guess herself she tugs out a black one, tugging it over herself before slipping off her bra and dropping it to the floor.

Another thing she’s learning tonight about Aedion’s mysterious roommate? He’s absolutely huge.

Aelin is far above average height for a woman and still, Rowan’s t-shirt hits mid thigh. She feels somewhat scandalous, in his room and wearing his clothes without his knowledge. A thought pops into her mind before she can help it - she hopes he doesn’t have a girlfriend.

Aelin launches herself back at the bed, sliding into the sleek sheets before flicking off the light at her side. She nestles in tightly, burrowing into the deliciously inviting bed and takes a deep breath. Gods this Rowan person smells good too.

She relaxes into the softness of the sheets and the euphoria that is lying on his mattress. In combination with the wine it doesn’t take her long at all to drift off.

When she wakes Aelin is aware of two things.

Firstly, her mouth tastes like shit. That would be the wine and not brushing her teeth the night before.

Secondly, she’s not alone.

It takes her a few beats to realise, but there’s a strong arm slung around her waist, tucking her into a broad chest. A puff of breath dashes across her neck as the man takes each slow, deep breath as he slumbers behind her.

Aelin lays still for a moment, her brain not yet fully turned on.

She definitely went to bed alone, but maybe-

“Dorian?” She whispers into the dark, trying to roll over to see him, but the strong arm around her waist is clamped too tightly for her to get anything more than a glance. She has no idea where Dorian ended up last night but it wouldn’t be the first time they had ended up in bed together.

“Dorian?” She tries again and the man behind her shifts allowing her an eyeful of the top of the head tucked into the crook of her neck.

Well, the man with the silver hair is definitely not Dorian, and as he shifts he tugs her tighter against him and shit. The pressure of morning wood against her backside is unmistakable.

Aelin’s mouth goes dry as her traitorous body grinds back into it, her ass rubbing against the hard length.

Nope.

“Hey,” She whispers, louder this time as she tries to pry his hand from her waist. “Wake up.”

The man shifts, rolling back slightly away from her, his hand sliding up from her waist to sit on her hip. A low moan sounds from the back of his throat as he begins to wake and damn if Aelin doesn’t clamp her thighs together at the sound.

She finally manages to wrestle herself up onto her elbows and she twists around to get a look at the man she definitely did not share a bed with last night when she went to sleep.

Yet another thing she’s learning about Aedion’s roommate Rowan? He’s fucking gorgeous.

In the dim light of the morning she can make out the sharp line of his jaw and the full curve of his lips, even as they twist into a slight frown. His silver brows are drawn together as he shifts and as his eyes flutter open she’s greeted by the most striking green eyes she’s ever seen.

“What the fuck?” Even his voice is sexy, the low rasp sending shivers down her spine, heat sparking from the hand still resting on her hip.

As though they remember that point of contact at the same time he jerks his hand back and repeats his earlier question. “Who are you?” He hisses.

“I’m Aelin.” She says as though it’s the most obvious answer. “What are you doing in here?”

He lets out a disbelieving laugh and Aelin curses herself for how hot she finds it. Objectively, she is in the wrong, but she’s going to blame Aedion.

“What am I doing here?” He says. “This is my bed. What are you doing here?”

Aelin shrugs as if this is a regular occurrence, “Aedion said I could crash here.”

Rowan lifts his hand to draw it across his face, letting out another dark curl of laughter as he rolls onto his back, seemingly needing a minute to process the situation he has found himself in. Aelin catches the shadows of dark ink down his arm and curses her cousin for not introducing them earlier, she’s quite enjoying her morning.

“Did he now?”

She’s very much aware that she’s still tucked into his side, his right arm curled beneath her pillow as he lays back. She drops herself down from her elbows, her head is aching and Rowan doesn’t seem to be making sense of this any time soon so she may as well get comfortable.

He doesn’t shy away from her, in fact his thumb brushes against the cotton of his t-shirt covering her shoulder.

Rowan pulls his hand away from his face and tilts his head to face her fully.

Those green eyes make her feel like she’s caught in the most enticing of traps. She couldn’t look away if she tried.

“Are you wearing my shirt?” He asks, and Aelin shrugs as she glances down at herself.

It’s a glance that allows her the knowledge that Rowan himself is not wearing a shirt and the broad, muscular planes of his chest start her heart beating quickly. The ink on his arm stretches onto his upper chest and Aelin wants to touch.

“You should be thankful,” She says. “I almost didn’t.”

Rowan opens his mouth to say something, but then seems to change his mind. Instead he shifts up onto an elbow and rolls over so that he’s leaning towards her. Aelin can’t stop her brain from imagining how it would feel if he slipped his thigh between hers. How she could shuffle down slightly to press his leg right where she wants it, and the darkening of Rowan’s eyes tells her he’s contemplating giving her exactly what she wants.

When his eyes flick to her lips Aelin wishes she’d bothered to brush her teeth last night.

This is not where she saw her morning going when she was too lazy to call a cab last night but she’s far from complaining.

The cocky smile that slips onto his lips has her mouth dropping open. Short, sharp breaths draw her chest up and down and Rowan glances down to where she’s not wearing a bra beneath his t-shirt and the sleepy but still predatory smile grows.

Aelin can’t draw her eyes away from that smile, away from the wicked curve of his lips as his leg shifts closer to her beneath the covers.

“Aelin, are you-” The burst of light that fills the room as Aedion barges in burns her eyes and Aelin squeezes her eyes shut tight against it.

“Um, I… Rowan?” Her cousin manages, still frozen in the doorway.

Aelin knows what this looks like, Rowan is almost on top of her and she knows she’s flushed from his proximity.

He clears his throat as he eases back away from her, the cool air that fills the space between them clears her head enough for her eyes to flicker open.

“Yeah, I decided to come home last night instead.” His voice is tight, Aelin notes with a hint of pride. “Didn’t know you were offering out my bed while I was gone.”

Aelin can only bite her lip in what she hopes in a not-guilty expression. From the pure bewilderment clouding Aedion’s expression she’s not sure she achieves it.

“You weren’t supposed to be back until later,” Aedion says, his voice still sounding strangled. “I wasn’t expecting this to happen.”

Aelin snorts, tugging herself up to sit against the headboard, her thigh pressing against Rowan’s bare shoulder. His green eyes dart to the point of contact before locking onto her own and that gaze makes Aelin blush all over again.

Rowan huffs a laugh as Aelin says, “Yeah, me neither.”

She can’t draw her eyes away from Rowan’s face. She doesn’t care that he’s probably boring or uptight as she guessed in her snooping through his bedroom last night as long as he keeps on looking at her like that.

“Aedion,” She says in a low voice as she manages to draw her gaze from Rowan, who’s firm shoulder is brushing against her thigh beneath the duvet. “Get out.”

#rowaelin #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #the first draft of this was so much hornier #but i'm tempted to make this a prompt fic so held back

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