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chrollohearttags · 5 months

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THE DROP OFF | e. jaeger

after a date gone wrong, your favorite doordasher is happy to give you a special delivery, on the house!

content + themes: slight angst, reader cries a bit, mentions of loneliness, social anxiety + depression, alcohol use, fluffiness, finger fucking, heavy kissing, kitchen sex, nipple play, unprotected sex, squirting, eren being a service dom (and a dumbass! 😭), lots of praise, calls reader mama, baby, etc.

📝: so much like elections everywhere, the polls were a lil rigged imo LMAO! 😭 plug!eren won the overall but it looks like doordasher won the popular vote. So because I couldn’t decide, I’ll be giving y’all both. ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Eren, please. Just give me my food and let me go.”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong. I got time.”

if he had picked a more inconvenient time for his nonsense, then it was now. Late night, endless hours of dreadful studying and the exhaustion of the week had taken its toll on you. The last thing you wanted was to be bothered with him and usual, childish shenanigans. Yet, here he was..standing in the threshold of your apartment doorway, dangling your order above your head; still hot for the time being and potent with the aromas of grilled chicken and rice. The only thing you wanted was to eat, shower and wash away the remnants of what you had just experienced. Something you weren’t quite ready to divulge to him or anyone else. Alas, it seemed that you wouldn’t get it until you came clean. Releasing a heavy sigh, you’d finally cave and decide to tell him. But first..

“Fine! But close the door behind you, you’re gonna get a cold standing in the rain, dummy.”

once you two were in the confines of your apartment, he’d take a seat and make himself comfortable without so much as a word. “Damn…your spot’s nice, (y/n). How come you never invite me in here?” “Because I don’t want you in my house, that’s why. Now take your big ass feet off my coffee table if you like walking.” That’s where the secrets would begin to spill. You’d reveal that earlier in the week, you had been invited on a date and although you were a bit reluctant, you accepted. Much like the majority of your generation, you had been partaking in dating apps and online spaces to acquire companionship. And you thought that after months of swiping left, you’d find your ideal date. A guy who shared the same interests as you..very attractive, really sweet and he communicated promptly. Once the two of you connected, he’d text and ask if you’d like to meet up. He suggested a restaurant that you’d previously mentioned, a nice outing for sure. That was until the night arrived. You’d gotten all dressed up; to the nines in a form fitting body con dress, done your hair, nails and makeup to perfection and ensured you looked stunning. Too bad, it was all in vain because after an hour of waiting for him to arrive and a series of texts left on delivered, you began to worry that something had happened. Although that too was quite futile because a quick scroll through social media would turn your anxious thoughts to pure anger! He was at the club, tossing back shots while you were at home, looking absolutely dumbfounded…you were so embarrassed and hurt! Even the constant glasses of wine that had been downed whilst awaiting your food couldn’t absolve you of your anger right now.

“So yeah…that’s what happened. Happy now?”

truth be told, and quiet as it was kept..he was. He was thrilled you were still a single woman. The thought of someone else being in your life would crush him because underneath his silly facades and constant jokes, he truly did have a thing for you. However, the thought of someone making you feel less than your worth had him ready to go find dude and bash his shit in! “Of course not, (y/n). That’s fucking terrible and I’m sorry that dumbass played with you like that..I had no idea. I can go beat his ass if it’ll make you feel better. I know that club..” “No need. I was stupid to think I’d actually have a good night.” Normally, he wore that comical demeanor like a sleeve but you could tell there was a shift in Eren. One that indicated he wasn’t a fan of what he’d heard..having paced the tile floors of your kitchen whilst telling your story, (y/n) finally came to a halt and began to laugh. But upon second glance, he’d see the tears streaming down your face.

“Y’know. I spend all day inside of this apartment..I work, have meetings, do my classes, watch TV and do it all over again. I even stopped going to the gym downstairs because I’d never find the time or energy once I was done. And for a while, I was fine with it. Working in crowded places and sitting a giant classroom made me anxious..honestly, I thought I hated being around people but truth is, we all need somebody. We can’t live in this world alone. My roommate, she’s been back in Cali for months helping her family so I don’t even have her. I figured tonight that I could give it another chance. Maybe even have a good time but I was wrong. I’ve always been a loner but I feel like lately, I’m so invisible, no one would even notice if I were to just disappear. These dudes, they just constantly make me feel worse than I already do. Y’know, sometimes..even if I say the exact opposite, I always get happy when I see your name because I know at least I’ll have somebody to talk to. Even if I am constantly picking fights. Maybe I’m the problem..who fucking knows.”

by this point, he had heard more than enough. He couldn’t stand to listen at another second of it..the fact that you’d felt this way shattered his heart into a million pieces because there was no way in hell, a wonderful girl like you should’ve ever been questioning your self worth. Amid your speech and tearful testimony, he’d get up from his seat, and without so much as a second thought, cradled you in his arms. Giving you by the far the most comforting and loving hug you’d felt in a long time. His larger frame wrapped around yours and enveloped you like a blanket. This time, you couldn’t even be vexed to fight it. You’d collapse into his arms and allow him to hold you. Allowing you to sob for as long he’d didn’t care. Hell, he even stopped accepting deliveries for the rest of the night because right now, he was exactly where he needed to be.

“Why didn’t you say sum’? (Y/N), you know you could talk to me.”

but you were abashed, truly. Why would dump all of your problems on a guy who was only here to drop off your food?! That wasn’t fair. So it was easier to just bottle it all up and keep it pushing. But not with him around..you didn’t have to hold back anything. “Because Eren, that’s not your job. And you piss me off sometimes. You would’ve just made fun of me.” chuckling as you wiped your tears and tried to feign off any more. You hated getting emotional in front of other people, it was your greatest pet peeve. But Eren could have cared less. Granted, he had his own ways of comforting people! “I mean, yeah..cause picking on you is the highlight of my day. Have you seen them damn orders? I know your toilet be screaming for its life.” Immediately smacking his chest and laughing. “I hate you so much.” Even if it was not always the most appropriate..making people laugh was how he coped! Finally, you’d feel his index finger glide underneath your chin and pull your head up. “But I only do it because I love seeing that smile..” you tried not to falter and let his advances wear you down but here was this goofball who constantly tormented you, cheering you up in the same turn. And you couldn’t lie, it felt good. Felt good to be held, touched and complimented like this. If it wasn’t already obvious, from the months of relentless flirtation, he had strong feelings for you that had only grown deeper the more he came around. Your cheeks would fluster and you’d beam uncontrollably.

“There it is..your pretty ass. Don’t you ever let one of these bums play you like you not fine as hell…”

by that time, his voice had dropped to a much lower vibrato..one that caused a quiver in your legs. You’d never seen him in such a light and you meant every word of being agitated by him but to deny that he was one of, if not the most attractive man you’d laid eyes on would be a complete and utter lie. He had this charm about him; one that even when he was being playful exuded sensuality. He knew how to draw you in without you even noticing. Not to mention, those handsome looks. Those deep, green eyes..long hair, tattoos going down his arms and you never caught him looking subpar. Dressed nice and smelling even better…you hated to admit it…

“You mean that, Eren? You think that about me?”

“I mean…I could just show you how I feel..”

but you had fallen for him! This man that you cussed out on a weekly basis, the one you swore to the man above that you could not tolerate another second of had you melting in his palms like warm ice cream. It was unbelievable but right now, you were feeling extremely vulnerable. Just wanting someone to tell you it would all be okay..a role he was more than willing to fill. He didn’t want to take advantage of you or do anything you may regret but above all else, he wanted to make you feel better. Ease that stress and make you forget all about old dude. “Might be a lil’ selfish of me to ask but..you wouldn’t mind if I kissed you, right?” By now, your faces were only within a hair’s breadth of the other. Your heads tilted to the side as his larger frame towered over you. It was a bit inappropriate but from the second you opened the door in that sexy outfit, all he could imagine was peeling you up out of it! He couldn’t help it when you looked so damn good..

“I’d be mad if you didn’t..”

so without haste, you’d feel those large yet gentle hands cradle around the back of your neck as he pulled you towards him slowly..bridging the gap of space between you two and bringing you in for a kiss. The sensation of his lips was nothing like anything you’d felt before. So warm and soft..careful not to overtake your own but lapping them up with tender pecks. Just then, he’d remove any space between your frames as well. The awkward tension had all but resolved and you were his for the taking! Slowly but surely, you’d feel those soft palms of his glide down from your neck to the upper half of your torso. Meanwhile, that kiss was only growing deeper and both of your eyes had fallen shut. Faint smacking noises sounded throughout the kitchen along with soft moans to the mix. Part of you was hesitant because you knew that he probably told several girls the exact same thing. He probably slept with half the girls in this city; no way a man so attractive wasn’t constantly getting play and who knew, he may have only been so persistent as a means to add you to that collection but right now, you needed him. You needed to feel something…the touch of another person, physical contact as to not be reminded of how alone you were! And you trusted no one more to do that than Eren. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this..” his words and voice cracked amid the barrage of kisses, becoming drawn deeper into you with no plans to withdraw anytime soon. He’d go as far as you’d allow him. It was then that your own hands made place to the back of his neck, drudging through the back of those long locks. Which sent tingling sensations throughout his skin. It was by far the most peaceful you two had been with each other. And ironically enough, he was the most attentive and compassionate sexual partner you’d ever had. You tended to stray away from hookups because you knew nothing good would come about but with him? You felt an unrelenting sense of security. You wanted him to keep touching you..feeling you up and shoving his tongue down your throat. You’d make an attempt of your own to return the favor by running your hands along his chest, however, he’d stop you just as quickly! “Nah..lemme take care of you, baby. I got this. You trust me, right?” Nodding in response, you’d stare with those sweet eyes, which caused his heart to flutter. Along with other organs…with the declaration, he’d proceed. Taking his thumbs into the sides of your dress, he’d slip each side down along with the strapless bandeau bra underneath. Slowly revealing those supple breasts to the crisp air in your apartment. Those nipples stiffened by his efforts along with the cool elements. “Fuck..” muttering underneath his breath, reveling at your beautiful body. “You like something you see?” Drumming up laughter from him. “Hell yeah…I knew they were pretty but damn..” The entire time, he didn’t stop kissing you once. Afraid that if he let go for just a moment, reality would shine through and you’d decide that you wouldn’t want him here anymore. Because this all felt like a dream..no way he was getting the chance to be with a gorgeous woman like you. But this was reality and he was going to savor every moment.

“Here…lemme—“ with a single arm coiling your back, Eren picked you up in one fell swoop and set you atop the kitchen counter. It was then that he’d part your slightly ajar legs and resume twirling your tongues around. By now, he had become fixated on your tits; brushing the pads of his thumb across your nipples before leaning down and circulating them with his mouth. It was the only time he showed less restraint as he sucked them both; lobbing each with a generous amount of saliva. “Erennnn…mmph, that feels so good.” Even down to your whimpers, he was overcome with arousal..just turned on by your every move. Perhaps it was the wine but you felt far more sensitive than usual. Just immersed in those insatiable urges. So much so, you weren’t responsible for what came from your mouth…

“Yeah? How much? Lemme see..” prompting you to spread those legs further, which you did so in a heartbeat. It didn’t take long for him to discover that you were a dripping puddle. As well as completely nude on your bottom half! “Oh shit, (y/n)….lil’ freaky ass. Ain’t even wearing panties..” teasing you as he traced a finger down your stomach. Honestly, he wasn’t mad about it one bit! And he certainly wasn’t mad about your response afterwards.. “you think I was dressed like this to get a handshake? I need some dick..” causing his eyes to lighten with sheer excitement. “..shit..I ain’t mad. Love me a girl who tells me what she wants..” He couldn’t help but to laugh because you had to have been feeling quite intoxicated to admit something of that caliber. “Well you know I aim to please, baby..I never turn down a request..”that same finger that had been toiling with the polyester material of your dress, slowly moved down between your thighs; resting idly on that mound. He could feel that pre-stirred slick damped his fingertips and he just knew he was in for a treat tonight. “…so what’s one more?” With that, and smiles curled around each of your brims, he’d continue filling your mouth with deep, passionate pecks. Drowning in your flavor and becoming drunk on you as the minutes passed. Meanwhile, those digits were starting to invade that entrance. He’d brush past your clit, invoking a shudder. That first and index finger glided in with ease and nearly made you shoot from that marble tile. “Oh fuck..”

but alas, the tender moments wouldn’t last because the second he began working those fingers around, Eren would pick back up with his teasing. “Always talking shit..hell, you prolly wouldn’t be so mean if you was getting fucked on..if you wanted me, mama. All you had to do was say so. You ain’t need to order half the damn menu at Popeyes for me to come see you..” to which you’d merely toss your head back and suck your teeth. Because for that comment, you should’ve kicked him out but he was making you feel so goddamn good! “Eren..you lucky I’m too horny right now. Otherwise, I’d pop in your shit.” But he knew he had you exactly where he wanted. In the position for him to gloat dutifully. “Nah nah..tell the truth. You got a lil’ crush on me, don’t you? I know I’m finer than a bitch and all but you must really fuck with me.” Every fiber of your being that was enjoying the moment was starting to regret ever letting his ass in! He just refused to be serious for once, even in a moment like this. But he wasn’t done quite yet, he knew exactly how to reel you back in. Pumping that first finger in and out, sloshing it around in your mixture, he’d lean forward and begin nibbling at your neck and ear; honing in to whisper something:

“I mean, just look at how wet this lil’ pussy got for me..that quick.”

which in turn, caused you to gasp when he shoved in an additional digit. It was so warm and sticky but barely giving way. Something told him you hadn’t felt the touch of another person in a long time. Especially with the way you were squirming and whimpering when he went a pace bit faster. Although he was a complete and total jackass, he knew exactly what you needed! “Shh..I know, I know..you just ain’t had nobody take care of you, that’s all…nobody telling you beautiful you are. That they’re proud of you and shit..” as his words doted on, seeping further into your brain, you’d melt even more. Becoming fully relaxed; that squeezing sensation gripped his knuckles and became even tighter. It was blatantly obvious that you had a bit of a thing for being praised. So he’d proceed to fill your head with sweet nothings and affirmations. “I know it gets hard, baby..you’re always trying your best and it feels like nobody notices. I get it. Your job not treating you right, these dudes trying to play games..but you deserve the world, baby. Deserve to be happy..” all the while, his words were more than just meaningless chatter he was spouting off. He was trying to uplift you beyond the physical aspect. He wanted you to feel invincible when he was done. At the moment, he was working you over, getting you all loosened and prepped for the main course. Alternating between your lips, neck and nipples in rotation to keep you stimulated. It would all prove to be so over whelming that tears would start welling in your eyes from all the pleasure. “Oh, Eren…” Trickling when he’d increase his speed once more and start finger fucking that tight cunt. The grip was so insane, he feared he wouldn’t last one round in it. Moreso, he didn’t have any protection. He didn’t even think about it..hell, it wasn’t as if he were randomly hooking up with all of his DoorDash clients, despite popular belief. That wasn’t to say that he hadn’t had his fair share of the ladies but they were all planned encounters. Meaning he had time to come prepared. Now, it was too late to turn back. But he could rest assured that you were fine with it.

“So lemme have you..right here. I’ll make all that stress go away. That’s what you want, right? Forget about him and all them others?” “Y-yeah! Oh please..”

practically begging with your eyes filled to the brim with tears and your face buried into the crook of his neck as you thrashed around on his fingers. They’d move concurrently; in unison to bring you to your climatic high. Licking his lips and panting, he’d gently push your shoulder blade so that you could watch the magic for yourself. On his signal, he wanted you to let it all out. Stress, anger, tension, doubt..all coiled into this orgasm. And when his digits came to a halt after rapidly moving, he’d pull them out and you would not disappoint!

“So let it out then…give me that shit.”

and it was at that moment, your view turned from his handsome face to complete blackness, feeling as if you were going to faint on impact. Imaginary stars fluttered in your view and your breath would catch in your throat before you’d release an earth shattering scream. “OH FUCK! FUCK ME..” but that wasn’t all that came with your climatic high…once you resumed consciousness, quivering and trembling, you’d feel a very warm sensation underneath you and that’s when you realized what had occurred. “Shit! I’m so sorry…” Not only had you come your brains out but you had squirted everywhere, including all over him. That was most certainly a first! For the both of you in fact…examining his white t-shirt, Eren would begin to laugh, completely amazed at how hard you had come for him. And you were in awe of how he was able to so delicately work his fingers inside of you and produce such a result. Perhaps, he was what you needed all along.

“Don’t be sorry, baby…that shit was so sexy.” Still in shock himself, he’d grasp the back of your neck and pull you towards him for yet another sloppy kiss. “C’mere…” the two of you would haphazardly smooch and peck all over one another, moaning and whimpering each other’s names. It couldn’t be helped. But that wasn’t all that was in store for you tonight. When he had a job, he always delivered and not just in the literal sense..what would this be if he didn’t give you the entire thing. “You said you need some dick, didn’t you?..” asking the rhetorical question as he tugged gown his dark grey joggers; along with the Polo waist and underneath. Once he did, he’d reveal a very erect cock; standing firmly at attention and seeping precum from the tip’s slit. He couldn’t take another second of this foreplay himself and he was all but certain you were growing anxious. So with a firm grip on your leg, he’d hoist it to his shoulder and spread your thighs to their max. It was then that you’d feel that tip prodding your stimulated folds and clit. “So show me you can take it then..” You would’ve went flying if he hadn’t been holding you in place. With determination and pure lust filling him, Eren didn’t waste another second before stuffing you full..(y/n) would all but scratch at his forearm for comfort. You’d both release heavy sighs simultaneously because each sensation garnered the reaction. His big, girthy length swollen inside of you and that tight, juicy cunt clamping down on him nearly made him collapse to his knees. But alas, he’d pull it together and maintain that dominant bravado. Forcing your head straight and your gaze directly on his own, Eren thrashed that dick into the depth of your center..leading with precise yet deep strokes. He had to go slow if he didn’t want to bust in less than a minute. It was something about you that had him ready to risk it all..the way you squeezed him, the way that body was so responsive and the way it was already creaming on his shaft..it was some pressure. None like he’d ever encountered.

however, he wasn’t the only one feeling the effects. You were becoming unraveled by the second! Tears running all down your cheeks, your legs shaking uncontrollably and your words even becoming jumbled. “I-fuck..Eren..baby, can’t—“ those rhythmic thrusts only making you feel that much more euphoric. He’d put it in so fast, it hadn’t even dawned on you just how fucking big he was! You’d glance down momentarily to see him going in and out.. “I know, I know..you just needed somebody to come stretch this pussy out, didn’t you? She’s so fucking tight, baby..I’m barely even in and look at the mess..shit..”

he was unable to feign off his own urges and pathetic whimpers at this point. He was equally as sensitive and didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to last. So rather than releasing like this; buried and nestled in that warm womb, he’d speed up and stroke your bud in the process. Keeping direct eye contact…the entire time, he’d talk you through your second orgasm. Giving you encouragement and telling how pretty you looked when you came for him not too long ago. He’d spoil you with adoration and more gentle pecks. Something you couldn’t get enough of. He’d caress your sides and squeeze the parts that he’d heard you complaining about before. Telling you how sexy it looked..it certainly didn’t help to quell your rapid quick orgasms and extra sensitivity. You couldn’t hold back even if you tried. And he couldn’t lie, he’d was getting close. So he’d offer a solution..

“Together, with me..hold my hands, mama..just like that.” With your beautiful gaze shining up at him, he’d intertwine both of your hands and begin pounding your core. In and out with rapid strokes, even as you cried out his name and sobbed from the overstimulating feeling. You’d beg and ask if it were okay.. “can I come? Please!..let me come.”. And there wasn’t a chance in hell, he could say no..because he’d following in your footsteps soon enough. “Yes, baby. Of course..let it out. Come all over that dick, baby. Yeeeess. Good girl..” Cooing to you in a gentle tone as that powerful orgasm came barreling out. Giving one final squeeze, the force of your juices pushed him out along the way. Those high pitched wails of his quickly turned to loud, deep grunts as he finally reached his own peak. “Oh fuck, fuck!—coming!—“Plastering your unsheathed tummy with a huge load of silky cream. The warm nut smeared over your beautiful skin. He couldn’t ask for a better sight. Luckily, he pulled out just in time! You’d both take a minute to examine the aftermath, amazed that what had began as an emotional pity fest turned into insane fucking like this. And he was the one responsible. Of course, he couldn’t get away without stealing one more kiss..this time, he’d didn’t let up for a full minute..but once he did, you’d both find yourself giggling in the woes of afterglow.

“How was that? You feel better?…glad you didn’t go out with (date’s name)?”

“Who was that again?”

obviously not thinking of him or anyone else after that intense session. You honestly didn’t want him to leave but you had to let him know that you appreciated him. Not just for tonight but for all the times that he’d made an attempt to cheer you up and used his humor to try and help you. It wasn’t in vain. “..thank you, Eren. So much. You have no idea how much I needed this. You’re amazing.” Which immediately made the brunette blush in embarrassment. “Aw, well the pleasure is all mine, baby. We’ll consider that my tip..and then sum’.” grasping your fingers into a light clutch, he’d place a kiss atop your knuckles. “I just hope you know I meant every word of what I said..and anytime you need to be reminded..I got you.”

it was truly comforting to know that he felt that way and now, you had begun to see him in a much better light. Suddenly, your little love fest was interrupted by the loud eruption of thunder! It seemed that the storm outside was raging on with no chance of letting up in the foreseeable future. But he wasn’t mad about it…and neither were you because you’d propose a question he’d often dreamed about. “Well, since you’re here. No need to go out in the rain tonight, is it?…unless there’s somewhere else you have to be..wanna stay here?” And of course, with bells on…he’d accept..

“I thought you’d never ask. I’d be glad to..thank you.”

pecking your forehead as he scooped you from the counter. You were certain you could rummage through your things and find some clothing for him, seeing as how you lounged in men’s sweats and pullovers all the time. You were certain he’d need it after being soaked in the rain and your juices! A warm shower would hit quite nice right now..

“Besides, I think I might need a lil’ more of that. You’re not half bad..” obviously downplaying the fact that he had just sent you to another dimension. He didn’t mind though because he was happy to supply you with whatever you wanted from now on.

but of course, he had to take one final jab and poke fun at you!

“I see somebody’s being greedy, but that’s nothing new. I’m used to it. By the way, I borrowed some of your rice on the way over here..hope you wasn’t gone eat that.”

“And I see you’re still a tacky jackass but I’m used to it.”

the more things changed, they always remained the same!

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tagging: @spaceforher @c0pkiller @levisbaldheadedwh0re

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REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED!!

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nightdiary · 1 month

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first dates with enhypen

word count: 5.4k genre: fluff, gender neutral reader, suggestive bits in jake's and hoon's but nothing too crazy imo author's note: been wanting to write more for enha so this was born... i am down bad for all of them i fear ): also it was almost too easy to get carried away in some spots but i didn't! i'm thinking of making more specific and individual bf posts for each of the members... saving my juicier ideas for then 🤍 as always, feedback is appreciated greatly<3!!!

✧ heeseung - tinder date

you have a routine with all of your tinder dates. after three months on the app, you’d learned how to cycle through the guys quick enough so as not to waste a minute on someone who you didn’t see fitting into your life.

there are three stages to the cycle: one, they had to pass the initial profile check. simple enough, and yet most failed right at the beginning. half-naked photo holding a fish? swipe left. in a douche-baggy frat you’d never heard of? swipe left. 27, not sure what he’s looking for, and republican? hard swipe left.

the second and third stages took the longest, but that’s when the disappointment came in. after a few days of texting, the inevitable message about meeting in person would come. if the guy seemed normal enough, you’d agree, and finally meet. you’d build up the moment in your head and pick out a cute outfit and dance excitedly in your room beforehand, going through the possible conversation starters you could use if it got awkward.

you’d sit through a date with them and wait to be asked questions, wait for them to express some sort of interest in you as a person, but it would never come. instead, you would sit and listen to them harp about themselves for hours. every time, without fail, it was almost as if they didn’t care enough that you were there.

then, they’d presumptuously ask if you wanted to come home with them and, well, your decision couldn’t be clearer.

as much as you hated generalizing, the men from your tinder dates were proving to be pretty shit. they looked good on paper, but when it came down to dating you, they fucking sucked. and you were beginning to lose hope.

you’d sworn that you would take on one last date before deleting the forsaken app. lee heeseung is everything you’re looking for in a man, and you think it’s a wonder he matched with you instantly. the texts you exchange pass your perception of normal, and before you know it, he’s proposing you meet up at a japanese restaurant downtown.

you find yourself sitting across from a man you think god sent as an apology for all of the other 4 billion and some men.

“you are suspiciously perfect,” you frown, squinting at your date across the table. “like it’s weirding me out. what is wrong with you, lee heeseung?”

“quite a lot actually,” he jokes, “but my mom says i’m a good boy. i’d trust her, if i were you.”

snorting, you reach to snatch the last dumpling with your chopsticks. heeseung’s grab the dumpling before yours do, but he’s quick to place it onto your plate and tell you he’ll order more. as he politely calls the waitress over and thanks her when she brings over a new plate of dumplings, you can’t help but think you’re fucked. either your standards are low, or heeseung is just one remarkable man.

but as the afternoon progresses, you begin to lean towards the latter. heeseung takes a genuine interest in your hobbies and work, asking you thought-provoking and personal questions that don’t toe the line of being intrusive and passive-aggressive. you realize that this is the first date you’ve been on where you’ve talked so much, and it feels so weird to not spend the entirety of your date looking forward to going home.

“i think i’ve found out what’s wrong with you,” you tell him once both of you are standing outside of the restaurant. heeseung had paid for the bill no questions asked, and when you’d gotten up to shrug your coat on, you realized with a start that the sky outside was pitch black.

as heeseung hums unassumingly and fixes you with a questioning look, you grin and say, “you hate mint chocolate. you’re a walking red flag, lee heeseung.”

your date bursts out into laughter and shakes his head. the wide smile stays on his face as he offers his arm to you, bringing you close to his side when you take it. “fine, you’ve got me there. can i at least walk you to your bus stop before you block me?”

you pretend to think about it, tapping your chin with your forefinger, before sighing and agreeing with a matching smile. your walk to the stop takes you through a busy central street that’s alive in the early evening, and you can’t help but press yourself closer to heeseung. he steers the two of you through the crowds with relative ease, and you somehow manage not to bump into anyone for the entirety of the walk, all thanks to him.

as you sit on the bench together and wait for your bus to show up, you use the cold as an excuse to huddle up to heeseung’s side. he laughs again, a lilting noise that tugs at your heartstrings, and you quickly realize you’ve gotten yourself in far too deep from the first date.

you have to move off his shoulder when he begins taking his jacket off. confused, you watch as he drapes the material over your back and urges you to slip your arms in through the sleeves so he can zip it up. you notice your bus rolling up to the curb and panic, turning to heeseung with a frown.

“don’t worry about it,” he reassures you. kissing your cheek sweetly, he helps you get up and walks you toward the bus door. “you have to walk home from the bus, i don’t want you getting cold. just give it to me on our next date, yeah?”

stunned, you nod shyly and step into the bus. as you scan your card and take a seat next to the window, you peer outside and grin when you find heeseung waiting to wave goodbye. he’s a bit blurry because the glass has fogged up from the heat, but you can make out the way his face softens when you trace a heart into the window.

with the promise of a second date and heeseung’s cozy coat on your shoulders, you begin making your way home, feeling oddly warm and thrilled beyond belief.

maybe tinder had finally worked out in your favor. you’d make sure to leave a 5 star review when you got home.

✧ jay - rollerskating rink

for what it’s worth, you weren’t the one that chose the location for your first date.

you’d left the decision up to jay, who, in all of his dependable glory, seemed to have chosen the worst possible location– at least for him.

“jay?” you call to the panting boy behind you. “are you sure you’re okay? we can always go sit down for a bit and come back later.”

your date shakes his head adamantly and pushes himself forward using the railing, scrunching his eyes shut like he’s anticipating another fall. he looks awfully adorable in the hot pink skates that the rink had lent him, even if he’s faring worse than a newborn deer with them on. the juxtaposition of his carefully crafted and sophisticated outfit with the cartoonish design of the skates is oddly endearing to you.

“wow, i really thought this looked harder than it actually was,” jay pauses by the railing, leaning down to rub at his ankle with a pained expression. “these skates are beating my ass.”

“why’d you choose this place if you’ve never been rollerskating before?” you can’t help but ask.

“okay, don’t laugh,” jay warns, avoiding your curious eyes. his cheeks are all red as he continues to massage his ankle, and you doubt it’s entirely because he’s exhausted from skating. “your best friend told me you like to come here a lot, but that you never have someone to go with. figured i’d be that person for you, even if i suck a lot.”

the thought of jay willingly sacrificing his comfort and the wellbeing of his ankles for you makes you feel warm all over. you help him stand up and regain his balance without relying on the rail, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek as encouragement. poor unsuspecting jay crumbles down immediately after, clutching onto the rail for support. you can’t help but laugh, though it isn’t unkind.

“just know i appreciate all of your sacrifices,” you tell him. offering your hand, you pull him up and continue to hold on to him as you lightly push backwards with your skates. “we can go slow, i’ll teach you some basic moves to get you moving around on your own.”

jay gulps but nods nonetheless, staggering forward after you. it’s relatively easy to keep him upright when you’re going at such a slow pace, his soft hands encased between the firm fingers of your own. you throw a look over your shoulder every now and then to make sure you don’t run into anyone, but the rink’s empty enough at this hour that you have enough space to move about freely with jay attached to you.

“bend your knees a little– yeah, that’s good, now glide forward one foot at a time, lean into your strides a bit,” you instruct, gaze focused on your date’s wobbly legs. the tight fitting jeans he’d worn are admittedly hot, but you feel a bit guilty thinking about jay’s thighs while he’s trying not to break the bones in them.

as soon as jay gets the basic motions down, you switch to skating side by side with him, your linked hands suspended between the two of you. he’s still slow and careful with his movements, but you can tell he’s fallen into a rhythm that works for him. you don’t mind having to inch your way across the rink with him. if anything, it’s nice having him by your side.

“i think this was just a big ploy to get me to hold your hand,” you tease.

jay flushes and, very tellingly, doesn’t say a word.

snickering, you begin to swing your hands between your bodies. jay’s hand is big and warm, and you don’t want to let go soon. “you should know i would’ve held your hand anyway. next time, let’s hold hands at a place that won’t break your tailbone.”

✧ jake - bowling

“you know what they say about men and bowling?”

“no, jake,” you deadpan. you knew exactly where this was going, and yet you still decide to give jake the satisfaction. something about being a good date, even if jake has always been a friend you’d teased first and foremost. “what do they say?”

“they’re either good in bed or at bowling,” jake steps back from the lane and looks over his shoulder to wink at you. his arm swings back an exaggerated amount as he walks toward the foul line, sending the ball rolling onto the wood with zero coordination. it immediately goes towards the gutter. “these are mutually exclusive, scientifically proven.”

but in all of jake’s infinite luck, the ball veers towards the middle at the very last minute, hitting the front-most pin and knocking down the rest in succession. above you, the screen plays a cute animation of bowling pins running away from the ball, only to be smothered with a large neon text spelling out STRIKE! in bold letters.

“oh this is so bad for you,” you bite back the urge to laugh. jake’s mortified face turns towards you and you almost lose it at the sight of his heartbroken expression. “you’ve got another turn, by the way. let’s see if you can get a double, babe.”

jake’s next ball ends up in the gutter and he cheers loudly, earning him very confused looks from the kids in the lane next to you. one of them offers their dinosaur bowling ramp to help jake out, but he kindly turns them down and tells them he’s trying to let you win.

unfortunately for the both of you, you don’t hold up too great score-wise either. even with your one lucky spare and otherwise average abilities, jake ends up winning by 20 whole points, a feat he doesn’t seem too keen on celebrating. the light in your lane turns off after the round is over, and jake proposes you two get some well-deserved food.

“do you think this is a lame date?” he asks you once you’ve sat down at one of the plastic benches. you instantly frown at the question and reach out to spear a handful of fries with your fragile plastic fork.

“don’t worry, i think it’s sexy when men are good at sports,” you reassure him, “also it’s cute that you wanted to let me win. and that you bought me loaded fries with extra cheese. it’s super romantic.”

jake snorts, but you notice how his shoulders visibly relax at your words. navigating your friendship-turned-something-bigger was harder than you’d anticipated it would be, and acknowledging your reciprocated feelings was proving to be the easiest part.

you knew that jake was equally on edge about fucking this whole thing up. there was a lot more at stake here than with someone you hadn’t known for years prior. you were afraid of diving headfirst into something that could potentially rip away an important part of you, afraid that one wrong move would send jake tumbling out of your life. you had cherished him long before you had realized you loved him differently.

but as you watch jake chew through a forkful of fries, you realize that there’s nothing complicated about this. things have always been simple with him, and they’ll continue to be no matter if you’re dating or not.

“cmon, next round is on me,” you stand up and wipe the last of the cheese from your mouth. “if you can beat me again, i’ll consider letting you prove that silly bowling theory wrong to me.”

the speed at which jake gets up is dizzying. he’s at the counter paying before you can even catch up to him, sliding a few bills over to the employee and turning to you with a playful grin. “we’re at lane 7, babe. go get warmed up.”

✧ sunghoon - laser tag

your heart is racing so fast you can feel it in your head. clutching the plastic gun to your chest, you press yourself closer to the wall and still your breathing. the red light on your heavy vest has stopped blinking, meaning you’d recovered from the last hit, but you know you can’t risk running just yet.

the undeniable sound of footsteps creeping closer makes you inch toward the corner of the wall, where you know sunghoon is waiting for you. you bite your lip and tense your finger on the trigger, peering over the bricks that are obscuring your vision.

surely enough, even in the darkness of the laser tag arena, you can make out sunghoon’s determined face. he’s crouched down behind a beat-up car, wearily scanning the area. most likely looking for you, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction just yet.

the blue on his vest has dimmed down– you’d hit him several times earlier and knew this was probably one of his last lives left. your own indicator showed that your lives were also running low, and based on how exhausted you felt, you knew you couldn’t have much time left from the round. you had to move in soon, or risk tying with sunghoon.

in your case, you thought that would be worse than losing.

taking a deep breath, you lift your gun and peer around the corner one more time, and in the split second it takes for sunghoon to notice you, you manage to send a shot straight at his vest. but the light on his vest doesn’t budge, and as you realize you had horribly misaimed, your date takes the opportunity to aim at you properly.

your vest makes a video game-like noise of defeat and you feel your gun power down. you know you have to hide for the next minute to let it recharge, but as you spin around and try to figure out where to run toward, you notice sunghoon already closing in.

“such a shame,” he drawls, holding up his gun with a smirk. you frown, backing up until you feel your shoulders hit a concrete wall. sunghoon’s voice is quiet enough not to draw attention from your teammates, but it sends shivers down your spine nonetheless. “thought you’d finally beat me this round. what happened, babe?”

“i still have one more life left, don’t get all cocky.” you mumble, shaking your gun frustratedly. the minute needed to pass by quicker.

looking over his shoulder, you realize with a frown that you’re in quite possibly the most secluded part of the arena. there’s no hope calling out for help or trying to make a run for it.

sunghoon squints down at your indicator and moves in even closer. you feel your breath quicken when the front of his vest hits yours, and you’re left caged in to stare up defiantly at him. he’s grinning at you like he’s already won.

“i’m not going to let you win,” you lean in toward him and whisper. sunghoon’s eyes flit toward your lips, and you try not to think about throwing your chances out the window and kissing him.

“you don’t have anywhere to run,” he places a hand next to your head on the wall, and to really drive the point home, you feel him press the muzzle of his gun against your side, where you know your sensor is. you’re pretty certain he can hear how fast your heart’s beating, and it makes you flush red from embarrassment. “you ready to admit defeat yet? or are you going to keep being stubborn?”

there’s no reason you should feel this lightheaded, but sunghoon’s so, so close to you that you can’t think properly. he’s practically pressed up against you, warm and solid and he’s barely a few centimeters away, and if you lean in just a bit more, you’ll be able to kiss him.

so that’s what you do.

“sure,” you say simply, and lean up to softly brush your lips against his. you grab at his neck with your free hand, bringing him flush against you so that you can fully slot your mouth with his. he’s surprised– you can tell from the way his gun clatters loudly to the floor next to you, and you try not to smile into the kiss.

seconds later, you distantly hear your gun make a familiar rebooting sound. you hold sunghoon firmly against you as you blindly aim your gun toward the sensor on his side, and with one last peck to the side of his mouth, you pull the trigger.

sunghoon’s vest goes dark. you don’t think he registers this, though, because he stares at you wide-eyed and adorably confused as you pull back from the kiss.

“i win,” you tease, and your date blinks down at his indicator.

“you win,” sunghoon affirms quietly. conveniently, the overhead lights turn on as the round draws to a close, and you can’t help but notice the way he’s reddened all over.

“victory kiss?”

✧ sunoo - picnic

ten minutes into your date with sunoo, you make the most devastating observation ever: sunoo has freckles.

they’re visible for only seconds at time, when the sun hits his face at just the right angle, but it still makes your breath catch in your throat every time you see them. they’re littered across his face like miniature stars, dipping across his cheeks in multitudes and scattering off toward his temples and brow bones.

your hands itch to reach out and trace them.

“–and then once we finally got to the place, it turned out to be super cute and they had some of the best lemonade i’ve ever had.” sunoo’s voice slowly trickles back into your ears, and you blink the world into focus once again.

you find your date looking at you with crinkled eyes, studying your features with amusement. almost like he knows exactly what’s been going through your mind.

“sorry,” you laugh sheepishly, reaching out to grab another chocolate-covered strawberry. sunoo had made them himself for the occasion, that much he’d eagerly disclosed within the first few minutes of the date, and you had found it too endearing for your poor heart. “i got distracted. what was this place called again?”

"auntie lim’s diner,” he answers slowly, smirking when you nod off-handedly. “hey, what’s on your mind?”

“lemonade,” you respond just a bit too quickly, face blanching when sunoo’s grin grows impossibly wider. whining and covering yourself with your hands, you try not to focus on the way his melodic laughter rings out like bells.

“lemonade, huh?” sunoo’s teasing is light-hearted, but that doesn’t stop your heart from leaping up into your throat. “was there some on my face? because you’ve been staring an awful lot for the past few minutes.”

groaning, you duck your head and try to focus on finishing your strawberry. you can feel the heat rise from your cheeks to your ears though, and are certain sunoo’s made note of this when he giggles and leans forward to get a better look at you.

“you’ve got freckles,” you mumble, picking at the leaves of the strawberry. when sunoo doesn’t respond for a while, you look up and bravely gesture toward his cheeks, pointing at where you’d seen the aforementioned spots with a shaky finger. “and like– it’s super cute. you’re super cute. but it caught me off-guard so, like. yeah. sorry for staring.”

sunoo hums. you can feel his eyes roving through your face, but you immediately look away once they finally meet yours. then, you feel something warm encasing your hand, and nearly jerk in surprise when your fingers come to brush against the soft skin of sunoo’s face moments later.

“don’t apologize,” he mumbles, leading your hand down the side of his cheek, where you’d pointed just seconds ago. “i’m really flattered you noticed. and you don’t have to be shy about stuff like this, i’d honestly be a bit worried if we were on a date and you didn’t find me attractive.”

reveling at the supple skin beneath your fingertips, you feel the weight ease off of your chest almost instantly. despite having known each other for a limited amount of time, sunoo’s come to be quick at recognizing when you feel out of place or uncomfortable, and he’s become too good at easing you back into safe waters. he’s too good to you.

“don’t get ahead of yourself,” you tease back instead, unable to handle the growing wave of emotions in you. “i only said your freckles were cute.”

sunoo looks up at you through his lashes, and your hand freezes where it’s fallen by his chin. flitting your eyes downwards, you watch his rosy lips part, almost like they want to voice your hidden intentions. gulping, you subconsciously feel yourself draw in closer, until you can feel his breath wash out against your cheeks like water on shore.

your heartbeat’s in your ears and sunoo’s pretty mouth is right there. glancing back up at his eyes, you notice that he’s also looking down at your lips, tracing the minuscule movement of your tongue peeking out to wet them.

he’s so close. you can almost just lean in a bit and–

“yeah? so then my second date invitation to auntie lim’s diner has been rejected?”

pausing, your eyes widen as you stare back at sunoo in bewilderment. he’s grinning at you slyly, the edges of his eyes crinkling with laughter as his whole body shakes with amusement. you can’t help the string of giggles that bubble out of you almost like second nature. it’s nice, you think, having someone like sunoo to laugh with.

“i mean, i guess i’ll have to try this lemonade you speak so highly of."

✧ jungwon - boba place

in retrospect, choosing a first date location for you and a total stranger was easier than you thought it would be. yang jungwon, as your best friend had briefly introduced him to you, seemed simple enough to enjoy normal things. you already had a place in mind before your friend showed you his photos, but you really couldn’t help it once you laid eyes on him.

“has anyone told you your eyes look like tapioca pearls?”

jungwon’s cat-like features curl in amusement and he pops his lips off of the boba straw. he chews through his last gulp, wiping at the droplet of milk tea that had trickled out onto his bottom lip. you follow the movement with your eyes, coughing when you absentmindedly swallow a pearl without chewing it fully.

“no, but should i take that as a compliment?” jungwon asks, passing you a napkin.

you take it and wipe at your own mouth, cheeks growing red out of embarrassment. “yeah. but now that i think about it, it does sound kind of weird. i don’t want to eat your eyes, i promise.”

jungwon laughs, mouth pulling into an endearingly wide grin. okay, your friend had definitely undersold him. jungwon was cute as fuck.

“why’d you choose a boba place, anyway?” he continues, fiddling with the cup in his hold. he’d finished his drink surprisingly fast, and you have half a mind to offer him some of your own. “not that i don’t like it. great choice, honestly. but why?”

you shrug. “the atmosphere is nice. and if you’re going to go on a date with someone you don’t know that much, might as well go somewhere you can talk. it would be pretty awkward to watch a movie with a stranger, don’t you think?”

jungwon nods seriously, hair bouncing along with his movements. “your friend was right about you being smart.”

“yeah?” now that you thought about it, you hadn’t considered how your best friend had sold you to jungwon. given that he’d agreed, you figured it must’ve been pretty alright. that, and the fact that it was your beloved best friend in question, you had no doubt you were probably oversold, if anything.

still, there was a nagging curiosity in your head that you couldn’t ignore. “what else was my friend right about?”

“that you’re easy to talk to, and that i’d feel comfortable around you,” jungwon muses, glancing down as he traces the rim of his plastic cup. he seems to be mulling over his next words carefully, lips twisted into a cute pout. “they also said that you were pretty. the photos they showed me really were great, but you’re even better in person. not that looks are the most important thing but, y’know. you’re a package deal, basically.”

you feel the way your ears burn red from his words, and you stutter your way through a shocked thank you. jungwon grins knowingly, but doesn’t comment on it further. instead, he asks you if you want to share one of the cake slices in the display window that you were eyeing earlier. you try not to look too eager as you nod, choosing to ignore jungwon’s mumble of cute as he walks away. for your well-being, of course.

jungwon returns with a slice of red velvet and two forks in hand. he waits for you to take the first bite before sinking his own fork into the cake. “your turn. what’d your friend tell you about me?”

you know you have to word your answer carefully, or else you worry you’ll come off as a weirdo. jungwon’s too good to chase off just yet, and you haven’t had this much luck with a date in a long while. or ever, you think.

“my friend told me that the most important things about you were that you’re a psychology major and that you look like that one campus cat,” you trail off, unsure, “charles? was that his name?”

jungwon barely manages to set his fork down before he’s bursting into laughter. you would think you’d said something wrong but his entire face is crinkled with amuse and you can’t help but join in on the giggling, ignoring the glaring teenagers from the table over.

“charlie, yes, of course i know him,” jungwon manages to squeeze in between giggles, “oh my god, i didn’t know people outside of my friend group knew about this joke."

“so you’re the cat that’s always hanging around the quad,” you say, dead-serious, and jungwon meows cutely as if to agree with you.

“okay, so,” he puts his hand up and begins listing off on his fingers, “i look like a boba ball, the infamous cat on our campus, and what else?”

“my next boyfriend,” you say before you can stop yourself, and you slap a hand over your mouth in surprise as your cheeks color in embarrassment.

jungwon grins. “that can be arranged.”

✧ niki - arcade

“okay, now i’m actually convinced you’re cheating,” niki whines loudly, letting go of the controller and slumping back in his seat with a pout.

the game you’ve been going at for the past half hour– a car racing game set in an alternate reality– dramatically replays the moment your character crossed the finish line and won. the stark contrast of the accompanying confetti on the screen next to niki’s misery makes you giggle, and you reach out to slip the tickets that the machine spits out into your backpack.

“will you feel better if i get you something with these?” shaking a strand of tickets enticingly, you watch as your date immediately sits up and abandons his sulking to nod at you eagerly.

the teenager working the prize desk looks at the two of you with such a deadpan expression you nearly mistake him for a robot. gathering your pile of tickets onto the counter, you look up at the various different stuffed animals and boxes on display, frowning once you notice the ticket prices taped onto them, denoted with far too many zeroes for your liking. almost like inflation’s gotten to the arcades as well.

“see anything you like?” you turn to niki, brushing your shoulder against his.

you watch him survey the different rows, expression growing grim once he comes to the same exact realization as you.

“um,” it’s almost comical how you can hear the frown in his voice. “actually nevermind, these prizes are crazy. holy shit, three thousand tickets for a snorlax plushie?”

“right!” you nod, ducking your head and stifling your laughter when the employee sighs out loudly.

with your meager six hundred and thirty-seven tickets, you and niki manage to get a handful of smaller, yet arguably better things: a sticky frog, two chinese finger traps, a whistle that sounds like duck quacks, and three boxes of different pocky flavors.

“i had no idea that coconut pocky existed,” you mumble in awe, reaching into the packet to draw out another stick. you observe it under the fading sunlight, popping it into your mouth with a happy hum.

after you and niki had spent your fortune of tickets, you’d decided to take your business elsewhere (or, alternatively: leave before the employee ended up kicking you out). you found yourselves on a bench right outside of said establishment, going through each of the prizes that you’d tucked away into your backpack.

“me neither, but i really like ‘em. here, have some of the mango ones,” niki holds out a second box towards you, and you eagerly reach in to pull out some of the sticks.

the sun’s begun to descend down the horizon, and you realize with a start that you’d managed to spend the entire day in the arcade with niki. the date seems to be drawing to an inevitable end, much to your disappointment, but you can’t help and savor the warm feeling that the day has left you with.

“it’s getting dark,” niki seems to read your thoughts. you hear shuffling and turn to see him stand up and collect his belongings, reaching out to offer his hand to you once he’s done. “i should walk you to your bus stop.”

staring up at him, you blurt, “do you want to go get a proper dinner instead?”

the words rush out of you before you can think, but no matter your shyness, you’re glad you’ve said them. niki’s surprised expression quickly morphs into something gentler, and he nods almost like he’s relieved. “oh thank god, i didn’t want to go home yet either.”

laughing, you take his hand and stand up from the bench you’d been sharing for the past hour. but even after he helps you up, niki doesn’t let go of your hand, instead threading his fingers through yours to hold you more comfortably.

you don’t say anything, but when niki looks over at you to make sure it’s okay, you smile at him brightly.

“so– fried chicken?”

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cosxtheta · 2 years

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#no more searching on dating apps because honestly men scare me & the ones that don't do not want me <3 #I matched with my biggest crush from here on tindr/grindr & invited to go out roller skating last Halloween #but skated on my own that night </3 I was a hot vampire at least hehehe maybe I'll ask him out again this Halloween #I just want real real love & I'm patient <3 #I'd invite him to the Florence concert but that's more of a me myself and I event to help with my self love ~but if he happens to be there?#<3 <3 <3 #also to fight against my libra moon instinct to only do things with someone else #been going to movies & restaurants by myself and now this concert will be a big step/test <3 I hope towards healing #to living for Love <3 self love ~ love from my friends ~ my little shadow Earl Grey ~ my garden #tending it will be difficult this summer but I need the #challenge to grow <3 #also the whole cremationist & the firefighter dream </3<3 #ok boo update</3 this failed and repeated but know how to approach better<3 will wait for real real love<3

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wordsbyrian · 7 days

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Would you pls do a Mary earps imagine with them filming TikTok’s together and being otp x

A/n: Not exactly what you asked for but close enough i think.

TikTok is the bane of your very existence.

It’s the bane of your professional life as a chef because everytime you turn around one of your crew is using prep time to make a concoction and upload it to that godforsaken app.

And in your personal life?

Well, in your personal life, it feels like every time you blink you're being sucked into filming one of those stupid videos with your girlfriend.

The first time it happened, you were barely even sure what was going on.

The two of you had been getting ready to go on a date to a relatively nice restaurant, when she pulled up in front of her phone’s camera so she could show off what you were wearing.

That had been the beginning of the madness (as well as a very hard launch of your relationship to the public).

It didn’t really matter what you were doing, if Mary had decided that a video needed to be filmed, it’d be filmed.

A literal walk in the park. TikTok.

You driving. TikTok.

You tearing a member of the kitchen staff a new one. TikTok. (Although she’d been asked not so politely by the head chef to never do that again).

You cooking in your shared flat. TikTok.

Hell, she even made a TikTok of you sharpening your knives, a task you find completely mind numbing.

And if having your every move recorded wasn’t bad enough, she also had you joining her in filming one of the more popular trends. You mouthing along to the silly sounds that are currently popular on the app. Or worse, dancing, you hate the dancing.

Asking how often you think about the Roman Empire (only as often as you need to).

Throwing herself fully clothed into the shower and singing Taylor Swift while you were trying to brush your teeth.

Making you record a two second clip of everytime you changed clothes while on vacation.

The list is neverending.

Which is why you should be more alarmed when you see her walking into the kitchen with her phone out but you’re too focused on chopping the vegetables you’ll be using in your meal prep.

“Baby,” she says.

“Hmm?”

“Can we record a TikTok?”

“Can I keep doing what I’m doing,” you ask in return, still not looking up from the cutting board.

“You don’t need to do anything but stand there and look pretty,” Mary says as she sets her phone up next to you. “And answer questions,” she adds as an afterthought.

You roll your eyes but don’t make any additional comments as you see her hit record.

“So a ton of you have been asking in the comments how my wife manages to be a professional chef when she has so many food allergies,” Mary says, looking directly at the camera. “And I figured it was better if I just let her explain it. Babe?”

Admittedly, you hadn’t really been listening to every word that she had been saying, only really listening to every word that she had been saying, only really catching the words ‘allergies’ and ‘professional chef’, which is a topic you get asked about a lot. So you just answer without really thinking.

“My main allergies are seafood, peanuts and treenuts. And since I’m one of 2 or 3 sous on any given night, I just,” you pause, “wait, what did you just call me?”

You can feel cheeks heating up as your brain finally processes what just happened.

“What? Babe?”

Mary’s playing dumb on purpose. She knows it. You know it. And you both know that the other one knows.

“Not that, the other thing.”

“What my wife,” she asks.

A cheeky grin breaks out on Mary’s face as she watches even more color rush to your face.

For you, when she repeats it, you suddenly feel like you can barely breathe and you know that your next words come out a little choked (much to Mary’s amusement.)

“Yup, that.”

As calmly as you can manage, you put your knife down and take off your apron before walking out of the kitchen.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“I have to find my wallet and keys,” you shoot back.

“Why?”

“I gotta go buy a ring before you change your mind!”

The sound of her laughter is the only thing you hear as you close the door behind you.

The video is up on that cursed app by the end of the week.

A photo of the ring on Mary’s finger goes up just a few hours before.

#woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #mary earps x reader #mary earps imagine #muwfc imagine #engwnt x reader #engwnt imagine #muwfc x reader

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magics-neptunes-things · 5 months

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Lucky Charm

Hi guys!

A new one with Kyra Cooney-Cross, I got sweet request for her so here it is :)

Next one will be with Leah Williamson.

Enjoy!

TW : None

This dating app thing was the worst idea. Beth told you, Lia told you, Kyra told you. Even Leah told you it was bullshit. But, stubborn and a little desperate, you decided to give this guy a chance. Plot twist, you shouldn’t have.

Contrary to what you had imagined at first, this boy seems actually interested only in the idea of returning home with you. And not to play Fifa. The remarks he tried to slip were as subtle as Katie’s two-legged tackle.

When he left to go to the bathroom, you are quick to send a message in the Arsenal's WhatsApp group.

From You Next time I don’t listen to you, please hit me hard in the head.

From Lia 🇨🇭🍫 Is he that bad?

From You Yes.

From Leah ❤️🤍 On a scale of 1 to 10?

From You 10. I NEED to get out of there.

From Alessia 🧸 What can we do to help you? Wait I’m with Kyra, we call you in 5min and answer with the speaker xx

Surprise, you frown but answer a simple ok. Your date has returned from the bathroom and is picking up the talking where he left it. It’s hard for you to care, despite all your good will. You are the type to think that there is something good in everyone, but right now you are frankly struggling.

"You marked on your profile that you are interested in women and men, right?"

"Mhm" you answer simply, carrying your soon empty glass to your lips.

"Cool. You’re not against a threesome then?"

You almost choke in your glass to this question, but you are saved from having to answer by your phone which vibrates on the table. Despite the relief of seeing « Kyra 🦘 » appear on your screen, you try to look surprised.

“Hello?”

You pick up and put the speaker on, as Alessia asked.

“Y/N?” makes Kyra’s trembling voice.

“Yes? What’s up sweety pie?”

“He…He left me.”

You stick your hand on your mouth to simulate the surprise but it's mostly used to mask your fun. Even if Kyra plays the comedy pretty good, you’re sure that she and Alessia are having a great time.

“Oh my God… You want me to pick you up? No you know what, I’m coming!”

Without taking the time to hang up, you quickly gather your things and put on your coat apologizing to your date. Which has a bitter look displayed on the face.

“I’ll call you back?” he says while trying to grab your hand

“Yeah sur”

You don’t even look at him and hurry out of the restaurant, breathing the fresh and cold London's air. The mixed laughter of Alessia and Kyra can be hear from your phone, making you smile.

"Thank you" you say, removing the speaker and putting the phone on your ear.

"You are very welcome" answers Alessia between two laughs.

"Where are you? I'll come to get you" Kyra proposes.

You hesitate two seconds before accepting. Kyra is one of the reasons you’re desperately trying to find someone. Between your breakup a few months ago and your stupid crush on her, you’re having a hard time keeping your head straight. But you finally accept her proposal and you wait for her in a parallel street, not wishing to meet your rejected suitor.

Kyra joins you on foot, which doesn’t surprise you. She likes to walk and given your Icelandic origins, you don’t mind the cold. So it's walking, hands in pockets, that you take the direction of your apartment with small talk and laughs.

A small moment of silence settles after a joke exchanged, during which you look up to the sky to watch the snow fall.

“Why did you accept this date?” Kyra abruptly asks.

You shrug and bite your bottom lip. You don’t want to make stupid excuses. Kyra knows about your break up and about you trying to find someone. Your love life always make your teammates laugh and it's so catastrophic that you laugh with them. But she doesn't know about your crush on her. You know she isn't interested in you.

"You should be with someone who appreciates you for who you are" continues Kyra. "Not someone who just want to bang you one night and leave you the day after."

"What a langage. You spend way to much time with Leah"

Kyra roll her eyes and as you turn to the next street, you both are facing small wood house with cute decoration. Christmas spirit. You love it.

"Hello there" smile the old lady, working in the stand.

"Hello" you answer with a smile, already looking at her stuff.

"These are wristband lucky charms" she explains

"Interesting. Do you have one for someone who only attracts losers?"

You shoot a glare at Kyra who got closer to the stand with a smirk. She looks at you maliciously and suddenly her body is too close to yours for you to continue to look at her in this way. So you just shift your attention to the old woman who laughed.

"Lucky charms like that are called loved ones"

She winks at Kyra and if you could have observed her better, you would have noticed the redness of her cheeks. When she takes another step to see a little better what is on the displays, her body is so close to yours that you need a few seconds to realize that you have let yourself go against her.

But Kyra says nothing, caressing one of the lucky charms with the tip of her finger.

"I like this one" she whispers thoughtfully, before resuming in a more assured voice "I'll take it, please."

In a few seconds the transaction is completed and the Australian finds herself with a small bag and her lucky charm in her hand. You say goodbye the lady and resume your way back to your apartment.

The snow continues to fall and a new silence sets in, always without being unpleasant.

"And on top of that, it was with a guy" Kyra says, your date always seems to be on her mind.

You laugh when you see her disgusted look, rolling your eyes.

"It’s okay, they’re not that bad."

"Oh please stop talking, you will succeed in convincing me to change my sexuality" laughs Kyra with sarcasm.

"It’s not exactly like I have a choice anyway" you sigh softly.

A few seconds go by before Kyra answers you.

"You are wrong"

"What?"

Her voice is so low that you can’t understand what she’s saying. Sighing, Kyra stops and crosses her arms on her chest, standing straight in front of you.

"There are people who care about you, you know. For what you are. You just need to open your eyes."

Your eyebrows are frowned and you have trouble understanding what Kyra is getting at. You’re so lost, you didn’t even realize you got to the bottom of your building.

"Close your eyes and extend your arm"

Nothing makes sense in what’s happening, but you do as Kyra’s request. You find yourself shivering stupidly when you feel her fingers touch your hand when she passes the wristband she just bought around your wrist.

"Don’t" she whispers when she realizes you’re about to open your eyes.

You realize at this moment how close she is to you, you feel her breath against your face and the heat of her body radiate towards yours. You swallow hard, but you don’t move. Your legs have become so limp that you wouldn’t be able to anyway.

You have the impression of dreaming when Kyra puts her lips on yours during the first seconds, so light is the pressure. You quickly understand that it's to let you push her away if you do not want this kiss. But she is wrong to doubt.

You get as close to her as possible and that’s what she was waiting to presses her lips harder against yours. And you’re suddenly happy to feel her arms move around your waist, or you could quickly faint. What you’re going to say is probably related to the many love stories you’ve read in your life, but you feel like your lips were made for hers. The way they marry together is a sensation you’ve never experienced before.

It's Kyra who ends the kiss first. When your eyes reopen, they meet hers, inquisitors. Snowflakes have settled in her hair and the colors of the Christmas lights color her face when she speaks again.

"I do care about you. You have no idea how much I do."

#woso x reader #woso imagine #kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney-cross imagine

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topguncortez · 5 months

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I Still Love You - Jake Seresin x Shy!Wifey

opposites attract masterlist || main masterlist

synopsis: Y/N goes out on her first date in. . . in a while. She struggles with her feelings as if it is time to start moving on, or if she wants to fight for things with Jake.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: mentions of cheating

Y/N didn’t know what she was doing.

She couldn’t remember the last time she went on date. Things had changed a lot since she was active in the dating pool. Dates were no longer big events where you shaved every crevice of your body, went out and bought a new dress, spent hours doing your hair and make-up, where picked up at your house and greeted with flowers and taken to some fancy restaurant across town. No, dating now was going to a local bar for a drink or two with some guy you had matched with on some dating app.

Y/N felt her hands shake as she looked over her shoulder as the bell above the door rang. She was extremely early to her drink date, a whole half hour early to be exact. But the nerves had gotten the better of her, and she didn’t want to show up late. Now she sat looking completely out of place in this swanky bar on the east side of San Diego. It was far enough away that she knew it would be safe from anyone she knew catching glimpse of her.

It wasn’t that she felt guilty about being on date. . . well, she felt a little bit guilty. Jake hadn’t signed the divorce papers yet, but they were making way with setting up visitation days. Y/N was currently living in the house while Jake was staying in an on-base house. Y/N hadn’t even thought of getting out into the dating field, wanting to wait until the divorce was completely over, but Val had set her up with one of her co-workers and Y/N didn’t have the heart to say no. Who knows, maybe she was going to meet her second husband.

A small huff left her lips at even the thought of marrying another man. Having another man raise her kids. Having another man in her bed. Jake had been the one for her, and he’d always be the one for her, even if he broke her heart. She could entertain the notion of getting drinks with someone, but it wasn’t going to go much farther than this.

“Y/N?” A masculine voice called out to her. She lifted her head, “I’m Miles, it’s nice to meet you.”

Y/N gave him a tight lipped smile, reaching her hand out to greet him, “Nice to meet you, Miles.”

He was clad in a black dress pants and baby blue button up. The top buttons were undone, showing the faintest gold chain around his thick neck. He sat down on the barstool next to you, his scent of oranges and hospital drifting to you, making your nose scrunch. You hated oranges and the thick smell of hospital disinfectant.

“Sorry I’m late, got held up at the hospital,” Miles said.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows looking at her watch. It was 7:01 and they agreed to meet at the bar at 7:00, “A minute late is hardly late.”

“In my book. . . it is,” He smiled, flagging down the waiter to order himself a drink and some appitizers, “I don’t like showing up on time, it feels like I’m late.”

“I’m the same way. I like to be atleast 10 minutes early to everything,” Y/N sighed, “But having kids, I’m lucky if I’m even 5 minutes early.”

“Val told me about your children,” Miles said, taking a sip of the old fashioned he had ordered, “Three of them right?”

Y/N nodded her head, reaching for her phone. Her favorite thing about being a mom is getting to show off pictures of her kids. She showed Miles pictures of Alex when he first got his glasses, Ella winning her first soccer game, when Eli rolled over for the first time. Miles smiled along with her the whole time, asking questions about her kids; what they liked to do, what their favorite colors are, what their favorite bed time stories are.

“They look like they are some fun people,” Miles said, sipping his drink.

Y/N wasn’t sure what it was that snapped in her, but she suddenly felt embarrassed. Was she talking too muc about her kids? Did this guy even want kids? It wasn’t just her he would be getting if they ever decided to go past this one date, it was her and three kids. Three kids that had cried when their father moved his things out the door. Three kids that had been fighting and acting out more since the divorce process had started. Three kids that were waiting for her to come home.

“Hey?” Miles asked softly, putting his hand on her knee, “Did I lose ya?”

Y/N blinked a couple of times, plastering a fake smile on her face, “No,” She shook her head, “It’s just I-”

“Thinking about your kids?” Y/N nodded and Miles set his glass down on the bar, “Val told me this is your first time out since your divorce. . . It’s my first time out since my wife died and I. . .” Miles shook his head, “I can’t help but feel like I’m doing something wrong, meeting you here.”

Y/N’s heart broke a bit in her chest, seeing his sad brown eyes look at her. Val had mentioned that he was previously married, but she never disclosed the details on what happened. She shifted on her barstool, placing her hand on top of Miles’ giving it a squeeze.

“This doesn’t have to go very far tonight. . . If anything, I’m not ready to go very far tonight,” Y/N spoke honestly, “I’m still hurt and dealing with everything, but I could really use a friend?”

Miles nodded his head, turning his hand in Y/N’s so their fingers were intertwined, he squeezed her hand back, “I can use a friend too.”

The two of them stayed in the bar for only another hour, before going to find something to eat on the east side. Miles had picked out a local seafood place that he swore had the best fish tacos. The conversation flowed easily as they ate. They talked about everything under the sun; what he did for work at the hospital, Y/N’s plan to go back to work at the flower shop in a couple weeks, Miles’ most recent travel to Switzerland for a pediatric board conference, how Y/N finally got to visit the USS Midway museum. It truly did feel like Miles was the perfect friend for Y/N. He understood what it was like to lose someone you love, only difference was Jake wasn’t dead.

“I should really get back,” Y/N sighed as they walked down the sidewalk to where she parked her car, “I gotta trade off with the kids’ dad, he works early in the morning.”

“Don’t gotta explain anything to me,” Miles shrugged. He had been totally respectful when Y/N talked about everything with Jake. She didn’t go into full detail about it, mainly because the wounds were still so fresh. She still felt a pang in her heart when she walked through the front door and his boots weren’t there.

“I think we should do this again, I really enjoyed getting to be with another adult,” Y/N smiled and Miles returned it.

“I would love to,” Miles responded and opened Y/N’s car door, “Let me know when you get home, please.” Y/N nodded her head, “Good night, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Miles,” She whispered as she shut the door.

The whole drive home it felt like Y/N was in a cloud. Her feelings were a bit conflicted on what she felt towards Miles. He was a good guy, with a nice smile. He had a sense of humor and had made her laugh several times throughout the night. Y/N could tell he had manners from the times he pulled out her chair and switched sides on the sidewalk so he was near the street. But all those little things were also things that Jake had done. Jake always sat so he was facing the door, or in the isle. Jake always opened the door and walked next to the street. Jake always knew how to make Y/N laugh.

Y/N had just pulled into her driveway, Jake’s black truck parked in it’s normal spot when her phone dinged.

‘Valeria Bates: how was it!? Did you kiss!? Did you do more than kiss!?’

Y/N’s face paled. Was she supposed to kiss him? They had agreed to just be friends, for now, but what was supposed to happen on the next date? Y/N hadn’t ever kissed another man besides Jake. And she sure as hell hadn’t slept with another man. Even though Miles was attractive, the thought of him touching her the way Jake had made her feel queasy. She didn’t respond to Val, tucking her phone in her purse and heading towards the front door.

Quietly, she pushed the door open, coming face to face with Jake sitting alone on the couch, only the light of the television illuminating his face. When Y/N first asked Jake if he could watch the kids tonight, she hadn’t felt bad about it, but now, seeing him sitting there alone, she felt nothing but guilt.

“How was it?” Jake asked.

Y/N sighed as she took off her coat and hung it up, “It was good.”

Jake nodded his head and stood up from the couch, “Will there be another one?”

“Too soon to say,” Y/N mumbled and turned to face Jake, “How were the kids?”

“They were fine. Eli was a bit fussy but he’s got some teeth coming in,” Jake stuffed his hands in his pockets and Y/N nodded.

“Well, You should probably get-”

“Don’t go on another date,” Jake said, cutting Y/N off, “Look, I know I fucked up. I know what I did is something that is unforgivable, and I beat myself up for it every day, but please. . . Please. . .” He walked towards her, and grabbed her hand in his, “Please.”

Y/N wasn’t sure what to do, as he stood before her, his green eyes with a tint of red to them.

“Goodnight, Jake,” Y/N muttered, squeezing his hand before moving towards the stairs to go check on the kids.

“I love you,” Jake whispered as Y/N’s frame disappeared down the hallway.

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fandomunite2107 · 3 months

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Help Wanted (Pt. 1)

Summary: Finding a part time job isn’t easy, especially if the owner doesn’t realize he’s hiring.

Bringing in the last box and placing it on your kitchen counter, you look around at your new apartment. Happy to have carried the last box up your flight of stairs, you wipe your hair away from you face, even though it was pretty early in the morning the temperature was still warm. Looking down on your counter at your to do list that you have made, you figure you might as well cross off a couple of items before its lunch time.

Deciding that the first thing you should do is clean your new apartment before you start to put things away, you find the bag of cleaning supplies that you bought a day ago. Starting with the kitchen and working your way through the bathroom and bedroom you dust, scrub, and vacuum until your new apartment is clean. Feeling satisfied with your work and a bit gross from sweating, you find the box marked bathroom and begin to put your shower items away along with your new bath rugs. After taking a shower and throwing on an outfit, you head to the kitchen and cross off the items that you had accomplished. Looking down at your phone you notice that it is well past lunch time and that you are starving. Figuring that it was time to take a break and explore your new neighborhood, you put on some shoes and grab your to do list and throw it into your bag.

Walking down the stairs leading up to your apartment building, you make the decision to find a local restaurant for lunch. After a couple blocks, you find a small cafe that looks promising. Walking in and looking up at the menu above the register, you notice that they have a variety of sandwiches and soups along with pastries. After you place your order, you find a table near a window looking out onto the street. The food that you ordered comes out and it tastes amazing, you make a mental note to try a pastry at some point.

You take out your phone and your to do list from your bag. You scan your list over, seeing what else you can accomplish today. One item on your list that you are dreading is checking your bank account and seeing what kind of budget you are going to be working with. Sighing, you open up your bank app and log in. The amount that you see in both your checking and your savings isn’t that great. You have a small amount of savings, but you hate to touch that. Your checking account isn’t that much better. You’re not sure that it will tide you over until your teaching job starts up in August. You knew that moving to the city was going to be a risk, but you didn’t have that much of a choice. Deciding that you’d like to eat more than just ramen noodles and crackers for all of your meals and wanting to decorate your apartment so that it feels like home, you add a new item to your to do list: find a part time job. You know that once school starts you won’t have too much extra time, but you’ll be able to work weekends and possibly a few nights. Gathering up your items, you throw away your trash and decide to walk a couple more blocks before heading back to your apartment and unpacking boxes.

As you were about to turn around and head back towards your apartment, you glance at a window with a piece of paper taped to it saying help wanted. You glance up at the sign to the building, seeing that it is a beef restaurant. You don’t have any experience working in the food service, but you’re a quick learner. Hoping that this is a way to cross off finding a part time job, you walk into the restaurant. There is a pretty decent line of people placing orders to go, so you wait in line hoping to ask for an application. Once the lady in front of you orders, you step up to the person taking orders at the register.

“What can I get you hun?” The man at the register asks, taking the pencil behind his ear to write down your order.

“Hi. I. Um. I saw your help wanted sign in your window.” You point to the window and smile. “I was just hoping to fill out an application.”

The man puts the pencil back behind his ear and looks around. Noticing that all of the other customers are either eating or taking their food to go, he sees that there is no longer a line behind you. “Do you have any experience in a restaurant?” He asks you.

“I don’t. But I am a quick learner and I work hard.” You say, hoping that not having any experience wouldn’t hurt your chances at the position.

The man smiles. “I see. Well, there isn’t too much to learn. I just need help out here in the front. You’d be cleaning tables, restocking the napkins, helping bag to go orders.”

“I can do that! Do you have an application that I can fill out?” You cut in, happy that the job isn’t for a cook, because you have very little skills in that department.

“Eh. We don’t need applications here. Think you can start now?” He asks.

Surprised by how fast this is going, you nod your head. “Oh. Sure. Y-Yes. I can start now.” Looking down at your outfit you wished you would’ve worn different shoes.

“Good. You seem like you’d fit in here.” The man holds out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Richie.”

Shaking his hand, you smile. “Nice to meet you. I’m y/n”. Adjusting the bag on your shoulder, you look around at the now almost empty restaurant. “What would you like me to do first?”

“Give me your bag. I’ll put it behind the counter here. You can start with cleaning the tables that are empty. The supplies are underneath that counter over there.” Richie points to where the supplies are hidden. You hand him your bag and make your way over to get the supplies. Once you have them, you pick a table by the window to get started.

As you start to spray down the table, you realize that you didn’t ask any of the important questions. How long are the shifts? How much money do you make? Is it fine if you are just doing part time and not full time? A bit embarrassed that you are going to have to ask those questions at some point after you were hired.

You eventually find a rhythm to cleaning. After you clean and wipe off the tables, you move on to cleaning the window by the door, noticing that it probably hasn’t been cleaned in awhile. Hearing a crash come from the kitchen and someone swearing, you look over to Richie who is taking a customer’s order. He doesn’t seemed phased by whatever is happening in the kitchen so you go back to cleaning the window.

“Dammit Richie! Why in the hell didn’t you call about the order I told you about yesterday.” Glancing over you see a man with a blue apron come out of the kitchen, shouting at Richie.

“Chill out cousin. I got it covered.” You hear Richie say.

“Just get it down. Now!” You take one more glance at Richie and the other man, making eye contact with him you give him a small smile.

“What are you doing?” The man asks you with his head tilted to the side. His volume a bit lower than when he spoke to Richie.

Placing the rag on the window sill, you turn to face him. “Oh. I’m cleaning the window. It looked like it needed it. I already finished with all of the tables.”

“Cousin. This is y/n.” Richie says pointing to you.

“Why is y/n cleaning my restaurant?” You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, as the man turns to ask Richie this question.

“Because I’m slammed up here! You got me making calls and taking orders on top of cleaning. I needed some help so I hired her.” Richie says that last statement with a poke to the man’s chest.

“Why the fuck would you hire someone when this isn’t your restaurant?! You can’t do that.” The man pinches the bridge of his nose and seems to take a deep breath. “Richie. We don’t have the money to hire anyone. We barely have the money to keep this place running as it is.” You’re not sure what you should do and you don’t want to make anything worst, so you slowly gather up the cleaning supplies and place them in the bucket.

“Look y/n. I’m sure you’re great. We just can’t hire anyone at the moment. I. I can pay you for your time that you did today, but that’s it.” The man runs his hand through his hair making it more messy than it was.

You walk up to Richie and the other man, feeling a bit defeated, hoping that this would’ve worked out. “It’s fine. You don’t have to pay me, I was only here for an hour or two.” You place the bucket of cleaning supplies on the counter. “Richie, it was nice to meet you” you hold out your hand to shake his. Turning to the other man. “Um..” You realize that you didn’t hear this man’s name yet.

“Carmen.” He responds going to shake your hand that you have left up mid air.

“Carmen, it was nice to meet you too.” You give a small smile.

Looking at Richie. “Would you mind handing me my bag?” After you grab your bag, you say to Richie. “Thanks. You might want to take down the help wanted sign.”

Carmen looks at Richie. “Seriously. You even put up a sign without asking?!”

“How are people going to know we’re hiring without a sign?” Richie yells back.

“We’re not hiring! Take the sign down now.” Carmen yells before going back to the kitchen.

“Sorry kid. Thought it’d work out.” Richie says to you on his way to take the sign down.

You sigh. “It’s fine. Something will work out.” You walk out the restaurant and turn towards your apartment building.

Walking into your apartment, you set your bag down on the kitchen counter and take out your to do list. Figuring it’s a bit late to look for another job at the moment, you settle in on unpacking some of your boxes. As the hours go by, you are able to set up your bedroom and front room, leaving only the kitchen boxes left to unpack. Feeling satisfied with what you have accomplished so far, you sit down to check your phone. There are a few text messages from people wondering how you are liking your new apartment and new city. After you type out a few responses, you decide that you need to figure out what you want to eat for dinner. You haven’t gone to the grocery store yet and you don’t have anything here to eat. Remembering your bank account from earlier, you know that eating out isn’t really an option until you start getting a paycheck. Sighing, you get your shoes back on and head to the grocery store that you remember passing earlier today.

Once at the store, you grab a basket and start to walk down the aisles. Trying to stretch your money, you pick up some off brand cereal, ramen noodles, and some soup that is on sale. Making your way to the check out, you notice that this store is actually pretty crowded and that the line is decently long. Scanning over some of the magazine covers as you wait to put your items on the belt, the person behind you accidentally hits you with their basket.

“Uh. Sorry.” The person says. Turning around to respond to them, you notice that it’s Carmen from the restaurant.

“Oh. It’s. It’s fine. Nice to see you again.” You give him a smile. It seems like it takes him a moment to figure out who you are.

“Right. Yeah. Sorry about earlier. My cousin doesn’t always think.” Carmen says rubbing his hand over his face.

It’s your turn to put your items up, so you unload your basket, not that it takes that long to do. “It’s okay. Really. Things happen.” As the lady at the checkout starts to ring up your items, Carmen places his items on the belt. Noticing that the final price of your total is more than what you had in your head, you look at the computer screen and realize that the soup that you thought was on sale actually isn’t. Feeling a bit embarrassed, you look at the lady checking you out, and give her a small smile. “I’m sorry. I guess I wasn’t paying attention to the signs right. I thought that soup was on sale.”

The lady looks at the soup that you picked out and then back to the screen. “Nope. They’re full price. You want them?”

“N-No. No thank you.” You reply. The lady takes the cans of soup out of your bag and makes some adjustment on the computer screen. You try to avoid eye contact with everyone.

Carmen looks up and takes in the situation. “I can get those for you if you want.” He says.

The man who fired you, well you guess not so much fired because there wasn’t a position to begin with, offering to pay for your soup turns out to be too much. You could feel some tears coming. You turn to him but don’t look him in the eyes. “Please don’t do that. It was just a mix up.” You whisper.

You quickly pay the lady and grab your two bags before walking out. You probably should have said something to him before you just ran out of there, but you were embarrassed and flustered. As you get a block away from the store, you see a car slow down beside you and the window rolls down.

“Hey.” You hear from the car. Not wanting to be involved in anything, you look straight ahead and starting walking at a bit of a faster pace. “Hey! Y/n!”

You slow down and look at the person in the car, seeing Carmen behind the wheel. “Oh. Hi again.”

“Do you need a lift?” He asks as he pulls the car over to the side.

“I’m fine. I only live a few more blocks away.”

“Get in. I’ll take you. It’s getting late. You shouldn’t have to walk alone.” Carmen says. You contemplate whether or not to get in. You don’t even know this person other than he owns a restaurant.

“Y/n.” You look back to him. “Just get in.” Making a decision, you open up the passenger door. Before sitting down, you notice that there is a bag on the seat from the grocery store with the soup that you didn’t get. You look to Carmen and notice the there’s a faint blush on his cheeks. “I wanted to get you those to make up for earlier.”

Moving the bag to the floor by your feet, you smile at him. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

Hearing a notification, Carmen reaches into his pocket for his phone. After reading something on his phone, he looks to you says, “Hey. I know that you were on your way home, but do you mind if I swing by the restaurant first?”

“Sure. That’s fine.” You adjust the bags at your feet and put on your seat belt. “Thanks for the ride. Um, and thanks for the soup Carmen.” You turn your head to look at him as he pulls back into traffic.

“Carmy.” He says as lights a cigarette.

“I’m sorry?” Not sure what he is referring to.

“Call me Carmy. Most people do.” He says, as he makes a turn onto another road.

You nod and smile, turning and watching the buildings go by as he drives.

**Part Two will pick up at the restaurant**

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy #the bear hulu #the bear #carmy the bear

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yuwuta · 3 days

Note

Nanami ver of bsf upstaging bf?? ❤️

listen… i meant what i said when nanami is just as bad, if not worse when it comes to driving your boyfriend away/upstaging him... maybe his tact makes him a better man than satoru, but you could also argue that it doesn’t; you could argue that kento is is only as respectful as necessary and consciously pushes boundaries, whereas satoru just does!! he just IS!! satoru IS overbearing and knows no consequence, but kento is not and he is very aware that evert action has a consequence, but he weighs it, determines it’s worth it, or—arguably worse—determines that the threat of your boyfriend getting mad or figuring him out isn’t high enough. kento is premeditated murder, he is going to drive your boyfriend so insane, to a place where he fully believes he cannot compete where he cannot compares, and kento will not feel bad about it. so, i rest my case, vice president of the not shit club, and their children are NO better!!

also, having been friends with kento sets a bar that your past and/or current boyfriend must quickly learn to meet, and more often than not, they don’t even come close. why go on random dating-app dates when kento sends food to your house just because he had an inkling you were sad (you texted him in a certain way that tipped him off). dates meeting you halfway at a restaurant/bar isn’t nearly as flattering when kento drives an hour in heavy rain and traffic after work to pick you up, just to make good on seeing a movie you told him you were excited about. expensive dinner dates and bar hopping becomes mundane when that’s the normal for you and kento, when he regularly takes you out to dinner, if not weekly, then at least bi-weekly, because he’s intentional about your friendship and having time to spend and catch-up with each other in between busy work days. it’s hard to be impressed with a boyfriend when your best-friend takes you on his twice-yearly vacations and pays for everything, citing that even though getting a proper vacation is hard, he loves the time spent with you, so it’s all worth it. kento doesn’t even have to wait for some guy to become your boyfriend, he puts any potential partners out of the running by the standards he’s already set for you.

#anonymous #in the words of exo he did it all with a smile on his face too like he is JUST as bad as satoru!!!!!#it's always nanami respectful king this nanami the standard that--HES NOT SHIT!!! TRUST ME!!!#and say you do get a boyfriend or a partner... that poor person.... it's a wrap for them #kento doesn't even need to show how close u two are your bf is gonna feel insecure by sheer comparison and kento is going to enjoy it..sick #no wonder he and gojo are friends! birds of a feather flock together!!!#their children (megumi/yuuji/yuuta) learned this behavior from them. it was TAUGHT #the takeaway dating advice is just 'dont let someones boyfriend stop you from being their husband' 😇😇 NOT SHIT!!!!!#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento x reader #kento x reader #nanami fluff #jjk scenarios #jjk imagines #nanami x reader

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cupid-styles · 8 months

Text

ginger ale (sugar daddy!h)

Harry is a rich CEO and Mia is a grad student that's eight years younger. It just so happens that they may be the answer to one another's problems.

Content warnings: age gap (8 years), sugar daddy dynamic, alcohol, smut, slight daddy kink

Word count: 8k (grab a snack and a bev and enjoy!)

masterlist | talk to me

Mia's never been attracted to older men but somehow, she's found herself sitting at a two-person table at one of the fanciest Italian restaurants in the city, nibbling on the end of the straw in her glass of ginger ale, awaiting the arrival of her date, a man who is eight years older.

To be fair, she got to the restaurant 20 minutes early and forced herself to sit in her car. She tried occupying herself by scrolling through Instagram and TikTok and playing a few rounds of Candy Crush, but she couldn't shake the anxiety bubbling in her stomach.

She weighed her options: she could drive away, go home, change out of this ridiculously uncomfortable outfit, order Chinese and rot on the couch all night. Or, she could text him here!:), go inside, say she's here for a reservation under Styles (a fake last name, she's almost sure of it), and actually give this guy a chance.

Mia desperately wishes she doesn't have a moral compass because indeed, all she wanted to do was binge watch New Girl until her eyes feel like they're going to roll out of her head, but she'd feel so shitty for standing her date up. Grumbling, she turned her car off, stuffed her keys in her purse, and walked into the restaurant, 15 minutes early.

Thankfully the staff doesn't bat an eye at her arrival time, instead escorting her to a rather private corner of the restaurant.

"This is Mr. Styles' table, but please let us know if you'd prefer something more suitable to your needs," The hostess explains as she places entree and drink menus in front of Mia.

"Oh, this is great, thank you," She replies, trying not to let any inklings of shock seep through her voice. This guy had his own table? Her eyes bulge as she glances over the wine list, her eyebrows raised slightly at the triple digit numbers accompanying fancy French names. How rich did he have to be to dine here that often?

Mia's phone buzzes, tearing her gaze away from the overwhelming menu. It's Harry, her date, who says he'll be there soon. Sorry you're waiting on me — order a bottle of wine for us, whatever you like, he'd written, making Mia roll her eyes. He must think far too highly of her if he thinks she knew what any of these wines even are.

She settles on her comfort drink instead, a ginger ale filled to the brim with ice. If this wasn't such a nice place, she would pop ice cubes between her teeth, but she figures that's a major faux pas for first dates at restaurants where a plate of pasta cost upwards of $50.

Despite meeting on a dating app and familiarizing herself with his appearance, Mia knows Harry has arrived before she even sees him. The staff seems to stand up just a little straighter and the baseline hum of conversation tapers off.

When she looks up, she understands exactly why: Harry, whose last name apparently really was Styles, commands a certain presence the second he enters a room. He's striking, fashionable, and charming, floating through the dining area with a luxurious air. Everyone — including Mia — seems simultaneously intimidated and turned on.

Thank god she decided to go on this date.

. . .

Harry is so tired.

Physically, he's been running his body into the ground for the past 8 years or so, ever since he took on the role of CEO at his uncle's company when he retired. He knows that he was insanely fortunate and privileged, and 27 was a rather ridiculous age to run an entire conglomerate. As a result, he feels the incessant need to prove himself and make sure every single one of his employees feel taken care of.

So, he doesn't have much a social life.

He has his core group of friends from college. He's close with his family. He has friends at work, and he attends numerous charity events and galas as an investor. In hindsight, he has it all — except for a romantic partner.

Harry doesn't think that you need a boyfriend or girlfriend for life to be complete, but he's certainly guilty of missing it. He hasn't had a serious partner since college, a sweet girl named Zyla, but they broke up shortly after graduating. Since then, Harry has gone on tons of dates — he knows he had so much, and he wants to share it with someone. However, it seems that all of those people are after the same thing: wealth.

He understands it. Truly, he does, and he doesn't think those people were necessarily bad. But after years upon years of shitty first dates, he's exhausted. His best friend Mitch and his girlfriend Sarah suggested he try out dating apps, so they helped him sign up for Tinder and Bumble, where were fine enough. They were good at helping him scope out people he'd actually mesh well with, but they usually ended in one night stands, never to be heard from again.

Harry is 35. He doesn't want wild sex with strangers anymore.

After a date at a bar with a guy who didn't even pretend like he was interested in him romantically, Harry snapped. If money was all he was good for, he would be upfront about it from here on out. It had gotten him everything else he could've ever dreamed for in this life — a gorgeous penthouse apartment, designer clothes and shoes, non-profit donations galore — so why not just use it to find his forever partner?

That night, after polishing off a bottle of red wine to himself, he swiped onto his dating app of choice, clicked on settings, and deleted his existing bio. Sarah had initially suggested making it about what he liked and what he was looking for, but he was eager to rid his account of its current description: "Born in London, permanent NYC transplant. Love art, books, and fashion. Send me your favorite Fleetwood Mac song."

Without a second thought, he typed in a new bio: CEO. Let me take care of you.

. . .

Harry Styles makes Mia extremely nervous.

He hasn't even sat down yet and her stomach already feels like it's in her throat, her lips parted slightly as she took in his presence. He looks so effortlessly cool, and she's nearly positive she saw his trousers on the Gucci Instagram page last weekend.

"Hey," Harry grins as he approaches the table, shedding his body of the navy blue blazer he wore, "Mia, right?"

"Mhm." She nods tightly, noting at how the waiter pulled Harry's seat out for him, placing the menus out in front of him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Harry," he says as he settles into his seat. He glances up at the waiter and shoots him a charming smile. "Thank you, John."

John, apparently, quickly shuffles away. Mia squeezes her hands into tight fists under the table while Harry glances over the wine menu, though she was almost positive he was doing it as a courtesy if he knows everyone that works here.

"Did you have a chance to decide on a wine?" he asks, glancing up with raised eyebrows.

"Um, no," Mia mumbles, "I just got a... ginger ale."

She feels incredibly dumb now. What was she even doing here? She's wearing clothes from the clearance section of ASOS and a pair of platform oxfords, meanwhile, Harry's outfit looks like it cost her entire monthly rent.

"Oh, do you not drink? I'm sorry for assuming."

"I do," Mia replies with a shake of her head, her eyes drifting down back down to the drink list, "I just... don't really know any of these... and I also don't know how to pronounce most of them."

"That's okay. Is it alright if I pick one?"

Mia nods and rolls her lips into her mouth. She wonders if it was too late to escape — can she say she has to use the bathroom and try to sneak out the window? This has to be some kind of prank.

"Once we get our entrees, we can talk out the details of the arrangement, should you be interested," Harry murmurs, closing the faux leather of the main menu, "I'm not sure if you came prepared with certain stipulations, but I'm happy to hear any that you have."

Mia's eyes bulge, leaning forward slightly with furrowed eyebrows. "I'm... what?"

Of course, John decided to come back just as Harry's jaw ticked, looking just as confused.

"What can I get you two to eat this evening?" he asks, though Mia barely listens as Harry lists off some random wine, followed by a pasta dish. John looks down at Mia, who swallows harshly, grimacing.

"I'll do the same," she jumbles out. He nods and shoots her a smile before stepping away to put their orders in.

"What do you mean by arrangement?" Mia hisses out, leaning forward and keeping her voice low.

"You're joking, right?" Harry asks, a slight crinkle forming between his brows.

"Do you... what do you think this is?" Mia demands as she digs her fingernails into her palms. Does he think she's a prostitute or an escort? She doesn't think anything on her profile gives off that vibe, and while she knows she isn't dressed as nicely as he is, it isn't enough to warrant such an assumption.

"You... you read my bio, didn't you?" Harry questions, sitting back in his seat, "You understand what I'm looking for?"

"I have no fucking clue what you're talking about, Harry." Mia's teeth are gritted, her jaw set in annoyance.

He leans forward again, glancing over his shoulder to make sure none of the waitstaff is walking by. In a hushed tone, he mumbles something intelligible out.

"What? I didn't hear you."

"I'mlookingforasugarbaby."

"A what? Can you speak up a little?"

"A sugar baby!" Harry whispers out aggressively, clutching the corners of the table. Mia raises her eyebrows in shock and surprise, doing a mental recap of what she knew about Harry — she never would have swiped for him if that's all he was looking for, mainly because the whole concept made her too nervous. Their virtual conversations had been tame, consisting of normal questions about their occupations and hobbies. How did she miss this?

"I... I didn't know that's what you were looking for," Mia replies slowly, "Your profile didn't say anything about that..."

"Yes, it did!" Harry nearly whines, "'Let me take care of you?' That literally implies a sugar baby situation!"

"Are you serious?" Mia asks, her face twisted in a cross between confusion and disgust, "You think people understand that's what that means?"

"Obviously!"

Mia shakes her head and grabs her napkin from her lap, tossing it on the table. She feels so discouraged and frustrated, there's no way this Harry guy wasn't a total creep.

"Wait— Mia, don't go," Harry says, following her lead and standing from his seat, "Please, I'm sorry about the confusion. This isn't a reflection on you whatsoever. Can we just talk? I'll explain why I'm looking for this type of thing, treat you to dinner, no strings attached."

Mia sighs. Harry's expression and tone seem genuine and if she's being completely honest, a little naive, too. She's already here, hungry, and dressed up. It wouldn't hurt to stay.

"Fine," she mutters, plopping back down in her seat, "But you're getting me the cheesecake for dessert. And you're paying for my parking."

A small smile wiggles its way onto Harry's lips. "I'd be honored."

Mia has to look down at the tablecloth so he doesn't see the blush warming her cheeks.

. . .

Over large plates of pasta slathered in decadent sauces, Harry explains why he's in the market for a sugar baby.

"I've never looked for this type of relationship before—"

"Yeah, no kidding."

"Anyway, I'm so used to people only being interested in me for my money so I figured why not try to use it to my advantage, I guess. I'd want it to be as casual as possible... like I really am just looking for someone to come to events with me, maybe hang out on the weekends and go out on dates if we clicked enough."

Mia nods her head as she chews her penne vodka thoughtfully. "And what would I get in exchange?"

"Well, what do you want?" Harry asks through wine stained lips, "Do you have any bills you want paid? Student loan debt? Clothes, electronics, furniture?"

"How rich are you?" Mia questions before sipping on her second ginger ale of the night.

"I'm... definitely wealthy," Harry replies carefully, "My net worth is in the millions, if that tells you anything."

"You could've just said you're a millionaire."

"Are you always this bratty?"

She huffs, leaning back against the plushy velvet of her chair. She takes the lull in the conversation as an opportunity to sincerely contemplate the logistics of this situation: She stayed for the free meal from the rather... attractive, and apparently disgustingly rich man, but was she seriously, actually considering going through with this?

No. It was crazy.

Wasn't it?

"I can see you're having some sort of internal moral battle," Harry murmurs after taking a sip of wine. "I told you, no strings attached here. If you're not interested, it's more than okay."

"I don't know," Mia says, breathing out through her nose as she lowered her fork, "I would be lying if I said I didn't need the... financial assistance, I guess."

"Let's talk money, then," he shrugs, leaning his elbows on the crisp table cloth. "What do you need help with?"

Mia hadn't grown up poor, but she certainly had never been rich. Her parents had modest careers and were now retired. They taught her the importance of saving and paying her bills on time. They instilled education in her as top priority and never pressured her to pick a career that would make her the most money, instead pushing values of true happiness and satisfaction. It's honestly how she ended up in her second year of grad school with hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt under her belt.

"Well, I'm a student and I work part-time. I'm in grad school to become a social worker. I pick up shifts at the university's library when I'm not in class, so probably like... three or four days out of the week."

Harry nods, listening intently. His gaze is intense and it makes Mia's face warm.

"That seems like a lot," he says, a twinge of sympathy creeping into his tone, "You must be tired."

Mia shrugs her shoulders. "I guess."

Admittedly, she's uncomfortable with the apparent empathy Harry emits. She's used to being fairly independent and working herself to the point of burnout, solely because it was what'd she been doing since she was an undergrad. She's never entertained the thought of someone helping her out, let alone with finances.

Pursing his lips, he nods slowly before folding his hands together. "Here's what I'm willing to propose. I usually have one or two events a week, sometimes work-related, sometimes just appearances or charity things. If you'd be willing to be my date to at least one of them, I'm happy to have you quit your job and supplement that income. I can also pay off some of your student loan debt, however much you're comfortable with. I'm more than willing to work around your schedule, so if you can't attend something, that's absolutely fine. If you're struggling with rent or other bills, just let me know, and I can take care of those, too."

Mia's mouth goes dry. Harry speaks entirely too casually about money, let alone paying off massive things in her name that she'd been stressing out about for years. She quickly tucks her straw back between her lips and takes a hearty sip of ginger ale, focusing on the earthy taste and carbonation filling her mouth.

"Why?" She blurts out after swallowing, "You don't know me. I'm just some girl in grad school. For all you know, you'll take me to one of these events and I'll embarrass the shit out of you, or someone will figure out how we got involved. Isn't that worse?"

He hums, contemplating the points Mia had made. They're valid, sure, but they weren't deterring him either.

"What would you have to gain from embarrassing me?" He asks, rolling his lips into his mouth contemplatively. "I've been embarrassing myself for years by going out on dates with people who only want my money to begin with. We both need help and this is the best solution I could think of on my end. There's no pressure to agree, but I just think... well, maybe, we could be the answer to each other's problems."

Mia's worrying her bottom lip between her teeth when John reappears, asking if they wanted any to-go boxes or dessert.

She doesn't order any cheesecake, but she does text Harry late that night as she lays alone in her bed, mentally running back through the night for the thousandth time: If you're still interested, I'll do it.

. . .

Mia doesn't hear from Harry for a few days.

Her mind runs rampant when she doesn't have her nose buried in a textbook doing homework or sitting through three-hour long lectures. She can't help but wonder if he's decided it's not a good fit, or maybe the entire situation was ridiculous to begin with. From what she knew about sugar babies — or what she thought she knew — was that they typically involved some sort of sexual favors in exchange for money, but Harry hadn't mentioned anything about that. All he asked for was for her to accompany him at an event once or twice a week, and he was willing to pay for her bills and chunks of her student loans.

Maybe the entire thing was just too good to be true.

So by day three, that's what Mia assumed. After all, he was a 35 year old millionaire — he definitely could do far better than a stressed out student.

She has an apple cinnamon candle burning and one of those eight hour long lo-fi YouTube videos on her TV, hoping the beat-ridden songs would somehow seep some level of productivity into her brain. She was working on a paper she had due in a couple of days, but she was only four out of 12 pages in, and she had the assignment for the past month.

She was just about ready to give up, blow out her candle, and tucker in for the night when her phone buzzes, the loud vibration echoing against the wood of her coffee table, making her jump. She didn't know what time it is, but she knew it was too late for any normal person to be texting her.

That's why she's only partially surprised when Harry's name pops up on her screen.

I have to go to a charity thing at a museum tomorrow night. It starts at 7 pm. Would you be available?

Mia was slightly confused by this — she thought that he would reach back out at some point to iron out the fine details, but it seemed as though Harry didn't care for those. She mentally goes over her schedule for tomorrow; she has classes from 10 am to 3 pm and she should work on this paper when she gets back.

What time would it end?

Nearly immediately after firing off that text, she tapped at the screen again: also, what are you doing up? It's almost 2 am.

The familiar speech bubble popped up almost instantly. Mia wedged her thumbnail between her teeth, biting at it as she watched the three dots.

It'll probably be over by 11 but I can always get you home earlier if you need. Also, I could ask you the same thing.

She pressed her lips together. There was so much she didn't know about Harry and yet, she couldn't help the way her body warmed ever so slightly at the thought of spending the night on his arm.

11 works for me. Should I know anything about the event or you before we do this? I don't want to embarrass myself by not knowing basic facts about you if I end up talking to people.

Mia's surprised when the dots immediately pop back up, but she supposes he's not doing much at 2 in the morning. She tucks her legs under her body and grabs the fuzzy blanket draped over the back of the couch as his next messages comes through.

Are you suggesting we play some sort of fuckboy 20 questions game?

She snickers at that and imagines the way his eyes widened teasingly, as if her request was as outlandish as asking him to come over for a late night hookup.

Which she would never do, and promises she hasn't fantasized about doing it every night since she saw Harry last.

Call it what you want, I just don't want to get kicked out of some fancy event because I don't even know your middle name.

She takes up her decades-long nervous habit of nibbling on her thumbnail when her phone starts vibrating in her palm, this time signifying an incoming call from Harry. She initially wonders if it's some sort of butt dial, panicking about answering it, but by the fifth ring she figures he would've caught on by now, so she quickly presses the green button and lifts it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"You didn't think we were gonna play 20 questions over text, did you?"

. . .

Harry thinks he could stay up until sunrise talking to Mia.

Conversation flows naturally, like they're childhood best friends and have known each other their whole lives. If he hadn't been born eight years before her in a different country, he would actually wonder if that were the case, but youthful, snappy remarks are enough to remind him that there's no way this girl ever existed in his life before. He would've remembered her, even if they'd only met for a moment.

They talk about anything and everything to soothe Mia's nerves about not knowing basic facts about one another. Her middle name is Lucille and she grew up in Connecticut with an older sister. They bond about being the youngest sibling and having divorced parents. Her comfort food is boxed macaroni and cheese, which makes Harry's nose wrinkle, though she swears it's the perfect meal to eat after a stressful day.

"What should I wear tomorrow night?" Mia asks sometime around 3:15, when their conversation begins to dwindle down. Harry hums and picks at a loose thread on his vintage tee-shirt.

"Any sort of dress will do," he replies casually, "I can always have my stylist send some options over if you'd like, just text me your size."

She snorts at that. "Yeah, I think I'll pass on that. You wore head-to-toe Gucci the other night and I'm pretty sure designer shit runs, like, three sizes too small on women."

"Point taken," Harry admits, backing off. "It's not too fancy of an event so don't stress. Do you have anything in mind?"

"Mm, maybe. I have a pink slip dress I wear on dates sometimes. Do you think that would be alright?"

Harry's stomach twists at the thought of Mia going out on dates with other people, but he quickly shoves the feeling down.

"Sounds pretty," he murmurs, clearing his throat. "Send me a picture before tomorrow night so I can match you."

Mia smiles to herself. "That's cute. I'll see you tomorrow then, yeah?"

"Yeah, my driver will pick you up at 6:30. Sleep tight, Mi."

"G'night, Harry," she says softly before hanging up the phone. She tries to ignore the way her heart warms at the new use of a nickname.

. . .

Mia has had a bad day.

She stayed up too late last night talking to Harry, and she's trying not to give too much weight to the fact that butterflies invade her stomach every time she thinks about their two-hour long conversation. She snoozed her alarm to the last possible minute so she couldn't take a shower before class this morning and her professor called on her when she wasn't paying attention, so she stumbled through some bullshit answer about child psychology like an idiot.

She didn't have time to grab lunch between her second and third classes, so by the time she got home, she was starving, tired, and grumpy, but she had to get ready for Harry's charity event. She stuffs a bagel down her throat and hopes there's decent food before jumping in the shower, pulling on her dress, and doing just enough with her makeup and hair. She's additionally grouchy that she didn't have enough time today to make a dent in her paper that's now due in only three days, but she knows she can only blame herself for poor time management.

When she receives a text from Harry that says "Here x", she tries to take a deep breath to rid herself of the day's worries and anxieties. Typically around this time, she'd be elbow deep in a carton of lo mein from her favorite Chinese restaurant and preparing a eucalyptus-scented bath, but she reminds herself that she already agreed to do this for Harry. And the money.

Her platform sandals click against the sidewalk outside of her home, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of a sleek black town car with a man standing outside of it.

"Mia?" he asks, his lips pressed in a tight line. She nods and he opens the door for her, motioning for her to get inside.

When she climbs in, she sees Harry on the interior, his thumbs tapping against the screen of his phone. He glances up to look at her and her breath stalls for a moment. He's wearing a baby pink silk shirt underneath his blazer, matching the exact shade of her dress.

"Hey," Harry smiles, tucking his phone in his breast pocket, "You look beautiful."

"Your shirt." she points out dumbly.

"What about it? Do you not like it?"

"I love it," she blurts out as the man shuts the car door closed, "I didn't think you were serious about the matching thing."

"That's silly. Why wouldn't I be serious about that?"

"I don't know." she mumbles with a shrug.

"Are you gonna buckle up?" Harry asks, nudging his chin in the direction of her seatbelt. She scrambles, feeling embarrassed as she hoists the strap across her chest, clicking it in. The car gently buzzes to life and glides down the road and out of Mia's neighborhood, just as she realizes she's definitely never been in a vehicle this nice before.

"How was your day?" Harry questions from beside her. Her fingers are wrung together in an awkward position in her lap and she has to clear her throat before answering, tugging the material of her dress down to cover more of her thighs.

"It was actually kinda shitty," Mia admits with a bittersweet smile. "Woke up late and didn't really have time to eat too much and my lectures were boring. And I have this kind of big paper due in a few days that I'm stumped on, so that's that."

Harry wrinkles his eyebrows and she can't tell if it's because he's disappointed or about to reprimand her. She prepares herself for the former based on the age difference, assuming the worst from assumptions she's made.

"I told you we would work around your schedule. If you need to do homework tonight that's perfectly fine, I can have Reese turn around and drop you back off."

Mia's slightly surprised at his soft-spoken response and she relaxes her shoulders at it. Harry notices, but he doesn't say anything.

"It's okay. I still have three days... well two since I probably won't work on it tonight."

"What are you stuck on?" he asks, pressing his lips together. Mia glances down at them for just a moment, but she instantly notices their natural muted pink hue. It reminds her of their first date, when they were stained red from wine. "I obviously don't know much about social work, but sometimes it helps to talk things out."

Mia nods at that before shrugging her shoulders, "I think it's mainly just an environmental thing. I spend most of my days on campus so I just want to go home when classes are done, and my neighbors are loud and I get too distracted at home. I can manage it fine, but I usually need an impending deadline to pressure me to work."

"Mm, yeah, I've been there," Harry replies with a chuckle. "Well, if you need a change of scenery, my place is always available. I have an office and guest room and such, whatever suits you. Won't even bother you to play 20 questions."

She lets out a laugh and shakes her head. "I admit, I didn't mind that distraction."

"Ah, so I'm a distraction now?"

He has that cheeky grin on his face — the teasing one that makes her blush and her heart stutter — and she giggles, forcing herself to look away so he doesn't see the way her face warms.

Maybe tonight won't be so bad.

. . .

Harry likes having Mia on his arm. A lot.

Maybe a little too much, really, but he's blaming it on the two glasses of wine and the lack of food in his stomach. Like Mia, he'd had a busy day with minimal time to eat, let alone breathe, and he probably would've ditched this entire thing if she hadn't agreed to be his date.

He's not even that special of a guest here. He was a frequent donor to the art museums in the city, and he'd supplied the exhibition with a couple of thousand dollars to get it off the ground. He didn't do it for anything other than the fact that he had too much money and didn't know what to do with it, and his sister always asked to visit this particular museum every time she was in town.

Harry discovers that Mia is actually quite good at schmoozing and chatting with wealthy people. She plays the part of Harry's girlfriend well, and the sight makes his throat dry. She's sweet and kind to everyone they talk to, even if they bring up points that are painfully boring, and she wraps her hand around his as they meander around the room, picking at h'ordeuvres and refilling their glasses.

It almost feels natural.

Sometime around 10 pm, though, he can feel her posture slump slightly and yawns begin to escape her. He excuses them from the conversation he was just barely paying attention it and smoothly guides her with his hand at the small of her back.

"'s a matter?" she whispers, her eyes widening. "Did I do something wrong?"

"What? No, of course not. You're getting tired though, hm? I wanna make sure I get you home at a reasonable hour."

Mia blinks a few times, a look of confusion crossing over her face. "You said 'til 11 though, right?"

"There's no reason for us to stay any longer and you've already done so much by being here, Mi," Harry murmurs as he fires off a quick text to let Reese know they're ready to be picked up. "Lemme get you home, okay?"

She doesn't argue any more at that, and that's how he can tell she's genuinely exhausted. He smiles gently and shrugs his blazer off, then wraps it around her shoulders.

"It's gonna be cold out there, temperature was slated to drop a bit," he explains shortly, swallowing at the sight of her in his jacket. "Reese will be here any minute if you're ready to go, though."

Mia nods. As Harry turns on his heel to exit the building, she reaches out without thinking, intertwining their fingers together. He turns instantly, wanting to make sure that she was okay, but all he sees are wide eyes and a furious blush.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she scrambles, dropping his hand, "I... don't know why I did that, I'm sorry, I'm tired."

Harry smirks. "We can hold hands if you want, babe."

She scowls at his teasing tone but nevertheless reaches outward once more to grasp his hand in hers.

"If you make fun of me for this when I'm sober and not as sleepy, I'll kick you in the shins."

He lets out a loud laugh, "Wouldn't dream of it."

. . .

Harry doesn't hear from Mia for two days.

He tries to distract himself with work and the gym, but he's lying if he says he's not checking his phone every five minutes for a text from her. He wants to message her first, but it's been years since he's had... feelings, whatever they may be, for someone, and he doesn't want to overwhelm her. So for two days, he busies himself with going over reports, bringing work home and passing out on the couch with his laptop still open.

Finally, on Thursday night, Harry has Friends on TV while he scrolls mindlessly on Instagram. His phone suddenly alerts him of an incoming call, and his fingers itch at the sight of Mia's name. He doesn't even have it in him to wait 10 seconds before he picks up.

"Harry?" She sounds stressed as he rushes out his name before he's able to say hello.

"Mia?" He echoes her panicked tone, "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

"My paper is due in five hours and I still have four pages to go and I— I don't know what to do, I'm freaking out, I'm so tired and I just— it's worth 70% of my grade and I'll fail the class if I don't—"

"Mi, breathe," Harry cuts her off, placing his elbows on his knees. "What do you need? Do you need to talk it out, read it out loud to me?"

It's silent for a moment and butterflies invade his stomach, wondering if he's pressed too hard. Maybe she just needed to vent.

"I was actually wondering if I could come over and work," Mia says softly. "It's fine if not, I'll be okay—"

"Yes." Harry replies, quick enough to make himself grimace. "Um, yes, of course, the offer still stands. I'll send Reese for you right now and I'll set you up wherever you want."

She breathes a sigh of relief into the receiver, mumbling out a series of "okay"s.

"Did you eat, darling?"

"N-no. I came straight home after work and I... just didn't have time to cook anything."

"Work?" Harry repeats, flashing back to their date two weeks ago, when he told her she could quit her job. "I told you I would supplement your income if you left."

"Well, um... you didn't exactly... pay for me for the event a few days ago and I just thought maybe our... arrangement, um, changed."

"Oh, sweetheart," Harry sighs, lifting his hand to his hair, pulling at the messy roots. "I'm so sorry, I thought... I assumed you would ask when you needed money. I've never done this with anyone else and I didn't even think."

She swallows thickly and pauses on packing her bag to bring to his house.

"Listen, let me order some food and when you get here, we'll work on your paper and I'll send you some money to make up for the other night, alright? We'll iron out the rest of the details, too. I don't want you to keep working yourself to the bone."

"Okay," Mia breathes into the receiver, and the muffled shuffling in the background resumes. "Yeah. Okay. Thank you, Harry. That sounds good."

"Of course. Reese is on his way, I'll see you soon."

"See you."

. . .

Mia wants to cry when Harry unlocks the door of his penthouse apartment.

She's so tired and burnt out and all she could focus on the drive over was whether or not her thesis was good and if she had enough points and data to reach the word count.

She wants to collapse the moment she steps inside, brushing past Harry with a small, forced smile, who is already in a pair of sweatpants, a worn tee-shirt, fuzzy socks and a pair of reading glasses.

The tears actually start when she glances over to the kitchen island to see a bowl of macaroni and cheese and a ginger ale.

"Eat," he murmurs as he reaches his arm out to take Mia's bag. She's stuck in her place though, eyes watering at the sight of her comfort meal in Harry's million dollar apartment. "Mi? You alright?"

She blinks the tears away and parts her lips, looking up at him with wide eyes. "You remembered."

Harry smiles gently and nods, pressing a hand to her upper back and guiding her to the dining room table. "Of course I did."

He shuffles down the hallway as Mia stuffs a few forkfuls of macaroni in her mouth. She doesn't realize how utterly starving she is until right now, and she has to admit that having some food in her system is helping soothe her anxiety.

Harry meanders back out as she's sipping on her ginger ale, "Okay, I set your stuff up in my office. Plugged your computer in, put your phone on do not disturb. I'll be in my room if you need anything."

"Wait," Mia jumps up, glass in hand. "Uh... I'm sure you worked all day and the last thing you want is to hang out while I write this paper, but would you... stick around, maybe hear some of my ideas out? I tend to get a little loopy when I'm stressed."

A dimpled grin wiggles its way onto Harry's face.

"I'd love to, Mia."

. . .

"Harry? Can you read this and tell me if it makes sense?"

It's been two hours of quiet typing, discussing Mia's thesis, and Harry playing mindless games on his phone until she asks him to go over something with her. He's exhausted — they both are, but she only has an hour before the deadline and they have no choice but to keep trucking on.

She hands him her laptop and he peeks through his glasses, reading the highlighted paragraph. It's something about community-based learning opportunities connecting to abuse victims, and while the only relevant knowledge he has is from a freshman psychology course, Mia is knowledgeable and great at what she does. She breaks down concepts in a way that's easy to understand and listening to her talk about something she's passionate about makes his heart swell with joy.

"Looks great, Mi," he murmurs as he passes her laptop back, "How much more do you have left?"

"That was actually it." She says with a bright smile despite her tired eyes. "I can submit it now as long as all that sounds good."

Harry grins and rises from the en-suite couch, stretching his arms out. Mia can't help but notice the sliver of his torso revealed as he bends back slightly and she swallows, refocusing back to the screen.

"D'you wanna stay over, darling? It's already 3 and I bought a six-pack of ginger ale that I won't drink."

Mia's heart tightens as she clicks 'submit', shutting her laptop and looking up at him.

"Are you sure that's alright? You've done so much for me already, I don't wanna be a bother."

"Not a bother," Harry mumbles, nodding his head in the direction of the hall, "Also, send me your Venmo so I can send some money over, hm?"

"Harry— wait, about that," she scrambles up from the desk, wringing her hands together behind her back as she steps towards him, "I don't want you to pay me for that night."

"What?"

"I don't know if this is... presumptuous of me, but I had a really nice time being your date. And I don't want you to pay me for that time."

"Oh," Harry mutters, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. "You need money though, don't you?"

"Well, I'm not at your status but that's not why I'm here. Or why I went with you the other night."

"What?"

Mia swallows and takes a deep breath. "I like hanging around you, Harry. I like who you are. I don't want this to be a financial exchange if... if you want the same thing."

"Really?" Harry asks, blinking owlishly at the girl, "You... you don't want me for my money?"

She shakes her head. "No. I don't."

"I like you," he blurts out, making a smile appear on her lips. "I don't want that arrangement either."

Her shoulders relax and her smile turns into a grin. He steps closer to her and tentatively reaches out to press a hand to her hip, waiting to see if she'll reject his touch.

"Can I kiss you?" Harry asks softly, glancing down at her mouth. "I've been dying to since that first night."

Mia nods quickly, breathing out an affirmative answer. He leans forward and smears their lips together, nearly moaning out in relief from the feeling of closeness he'd been dying for. She stands on her tippy-toes and wraps her arms around his neck, pressing her chest up against his. It's warm and wet and so nice, but he forces himself to break away, leaning her forehead against his.

"That was nice." she murmurs, little puffs of air leaving her mouth. He nods eagerly and squeezes her hip.

"Perfect," he whispers. "Just... don't wanna rush things."

Mia raises an eyebrow, glancing down when she realizes Harry's hard length against her thigh. He grimaces in embarrassment — typically he's able to control himself far better, not getting a boner from a two minute kiss, but he's been dreaming about finally getting to kiss her.

"Oh," she sighs, and Harry swears he notices a slight glint in her eyes when she glances up at him. "You feel.. big."

He breathes out a chuckle, "Don't stroke my ego, sweetheart, can only take so much tonight."

"Can I... am I allowed to touch?" Mia questions, her voice soft and peeked with curious. Her eyelashes flutter as she peeps up at him, biting down on her bottom lip.

"Only if you want to. Don't feel pressured to do anything, it'll go away on its own."

Harry's honest in his answer, not wanting her to feel obligated by any means, but he's lying if he says he isn't thrilled when she slowly sinks to her knees, palming at his crotch on her way down.

"Fuck," he mutters, swallowing harshly at her sweet doe eyes batting up at him.

"When's the last time someone took care of you?" she murmurs as she gently tugs his sweatpants down, leaving him in a navy blue pair of briefs. His cock is nearly bursting out of them and she licks her lips at the visual, her mouth parting slightly.

"Doesn't matter," Harry replies in a strained voice. She pulls his underwear down to reveal his painfully hard cock, slapping up against his lower stomach with a bubble of pre-cum at the tip. "Wanna take care of you, darling."

Mia giggles at that and begins to pepper kisses along the tops of his thighs. Her fingertips wiggle between his legs, just below his balls, encouraging him to part them so she can sponge kisses along the skin there.

"Can I touch, please?" she asks, looking back up at him. He nods and sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, groaning when her hand wraps around the base, squeezing lightly. "I was right. Your cock is big and pretty."

"You're gonna make me cum just from that dirty mouth." Harry mutters, lulling his head to the side as she slowly pumps his length. She moves her mouth to hover over his length and spits, letting saliva dribble from her mouth onto his skin. The mix of her spit and his pre-cum are enough lubrication to help her jerk him at a steady pace, and she smiles when she hears his choppy breathing from above.

Mia mouths over the tip of his cock and sticks her tongue out, licking up the leaking fluid. "Mm, you taste good," she mumbles, almost as if Harry wasn't meant to hear her, "I want you to fuck my face and cum down my throat, please."

He chokes at her casual tone and reaches down to thread his fingers through her hair. "Are you sure, baby? 'M perfectly content with just watching you on your knees like this."

With her cheek pressed against his thigh, she smiles brightly at the use of the pet name, still nodding her head at his question.

"Mhm. I usually don't like deep-throating but your cock is really nice... wanna taste you and feel you burst in my mouth."

"You're gonna fuckin' kill me."

She lets out a giggle as Harry slowly guides his cock into her mouth. She takes him with ease, relaxing her throat until she's taken most of him. He inhales sharply through his nose as she takes initiative and begins bobbing up and down, drool starting to leak from the sides of her mouth. He groans as he watches her, growing comfortable when he sees how eager she is, and moves his hips in time with her movements until her nose is flush against his pelvis.

"Fuck, Mia," Harry moans when she gags around his tip. Mascara-stained tears flow from her eyes and down her cheeks, but she doesn't give an inkling a discomfort, only doubling down on her efforts with a muffled whimper.

She releases for a moment and he's prepared to ask if he's being too rough as she wipes spit from her chin, "You can go harder, I'm fine. Also, is it alright if I call you daddy?"

"Jesus Christ," Harry guffaws, allowing his head to duck back fully now, "Yeah, sweetheart, choke yourself on daddy's cock."

Mia grins and squeezes her thighs, instantly diving back in. Harry bucks his hips, fucking her throat deeper and faster as his orgasm quickly unravels in his body. Lightning zips throughout him, his groans quickly getting louder every time she gags around his length.

"I'm gonna cum," Harry warns, the familiar feeling building. He looks down at her and watches her greedily take him, and that's all he needs before he's exploding. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, fuck—"

He's filling up her mouth with rapid ropes of warm cum and she moans at his taste, letting him empty his balls and continue using her throat. He breathes harshly as his peak slowly ends and she slides off of his sensitive cock, cum spilling out the corners of her mouth.

Without a word, he pulls her up and surges forward, pressing their lips together. She squeaks in surprise but eagerly kisses him back, their tongues swapping the fluid he just emptied into her mouth. They part with harsh breaths, Mia clutching his shirt with tight fists.

"Was that okay?" she asks as he wipes the remaining mix of spit and cum from her lip.

He smirks and shakes his head, "You're silly for even asking that. It was amazing."

"Mm, good."

"C'mon, I'm not letting you go home at this hour. You can stay in the guest room if you don't want to sleep with me."

"I just swallowed your cum, I think you owe me a cuddle, Styles."

He lets out a loud laugh and tugs at her hand, out in the direction of the hallway and to his bedroom, "Whatever you want, darling."

. . .

The next morning, Mia wakes up in a huge, comfy mattress, surrounded by luxurious tufts of white duvet.

For a minute, she forgets where she is, until she's reminded of the night before. She blushes at the overwhelming happiness that floods her body, remembering the way Harry held her all night and pressed kisses to her cheeks and forehead every time he woke up.

When she opens her eyes, she's expecting to see him, but she's met with an empty mattress. She sits up with furrowed brows until she zeroes in on a folded note on his pillow with her name and a heart next to it.

Smiling gently, she opens it.

Morning, sweetheart. Got called into the office early and you looked too sweet to wake up. Make yourself at home, feel free to invade my closet or fridge.

Leaving you my credit card to treat yourself to something nice, too — just because we're not in this arrangement anymore doesn't mean I won't take care of you financially.

xx daddy

Mia squeals and falls back against the bed.

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