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the-midnight-blooms · 10 months ago

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ME AND MY HUSBAND | psh

pairing: CEO!park seonghwa x scientistwife!reader AU: modern au word count: 6.3k

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In the midst of a fragile soul dwindling under the aches of animosity, the married couple laid in bed with their backs facing each other. The husband, Park Seonghwa, an esteemed CEO of a pharmaceutical company ‘Park Pharmaceuticals.’ had the front board of the book lodged into the silk casing of his pillow with his other hand steadying it so he could still, quite painfully, scan his eyes over the text. Agitated, he got up with a grunt before sitting up to finish the chapter of his book. With his scientists publishing reports on the latest medicine they were developing, he immediately rushed back to his university textbooks to affirm he was still equipped with the necessary knowledge to understand the science. Meanwhile, Mrs Park- a research scientist at Park Pharmaceuticals' rival company, ‘Kim Pharma.’ was battling against her insomnia despite motherhood knocking her straight off her feet. Their daughter, Park Dami, was fast asleep in the room next door to Seonghwa’s study cuddling the little Toothless toy he had gifted her when she was still a cherub. It had seemed that Mrs Park was prone to falling asleep at the most odd times of day, whether it be during dinner or cleaning the home.

Perhaps it was the heartache she was suffering from. The love that she had held for her husband was a permanent fixture, a vow that she had promised not to break, and one she had not and never would for as long as she lived. However, the increasingly distant behaviour from her husband in light of his burgeoning role as CEO had her heart yearning for him. Being a mother was difficult and of course, so was Seonghwa’s job. Yet, he also had duties as husband and a father, which he seemed eager to abandon altogether.

“Why can’t you try to understand how difficult it is for me to do all of this? So much pressure at work, then I come to you going on about some stupid dinner with your parents!” He shouted, she flinched at the dissonance of his noxious tone reverberating off the walls of the small study- biting down at her lip.

“I’m sorry, I’ll leave.”

“Sorry, my arse. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t be fucking nagging in my ear all the time, would you?” He barked, as she sped out of the room. It had been three weeks since she had, politely and quietly, asked her husband if he was free to attend her mother’s dinner party. He refused, erratically, and despite having apologised with saccharine kisses and diligent promises, he didn’t turn up to dinner in the end.

“Oh he’s busy Mum. He’s seeing to some of the lab work, you know how stressful it was for me.” Her father complained light-heartedly, raising how unfair it was of him to neglect his family.

“Do you want to me have a chat with him? I can give him a good word.” Hastily, she steered her father away from that direction. The last thing she needed was Seonghwa to turn around and blame her for the earache her father would give.

With a relentless sigh, she sat up reaching for the bottle of water on the nightstand. His eyes flickered at her movements, lips moving up and down to form the shape of the words as he silently committed them to memory, forming judicious links between the knowledge and application.

“Seonghwa.” She called out for him, he hummed in return, barely reeling his eyes off the page. Please look at me. “I was thinking about going back to work again. I contacted my manager about restarting and at the moment I would only need to go in for about two days or so.” Shutting his book close, he finally met her stare, deep in contemplative thought.

“Do you think you can work and take care of Dami at the same time?” He questioned. She had thought about this several times before she dialled in her manager’s number. As much as she had inherited her father's kind-hearted nature, stunning beauty, and soft-spoken voice in the end it was the passivity she had drawn from her mother naturally rendering herself subservient to prioritise ones needs over her own. Essentially, if she had told Dami to keep her lips on a tight seal and remain of the sofa the whole day: she would.

“I’m sure I can as long as she's in sight. She'll be in nursery from September, so I'll be able to start work.” He fell a little quiet, turning to drop his book onto the night stand.

“Ok, if that’s what you want. If you need me to come home earlier, I mean I can’t at the moment, but in a few weeks time if you need me to-then I will.” Nodding, she sent him a grateful smile before sliding back under the covers to turn her night light off.

Her heels clicked, exasperatedly, on the porcelain white floor dashing straight through the double doors; her heart pounded furiously against her chest, a violent ache gnawing at her arteries. With her body almost barging into a number of figures, her anxious apologies echoed into the swamped corridors, in which her colleagues shook their tired heads in annoyance. Finally, reaching the top floor she scuttled out of the elevator catching the eyes of Mrs Lee.

"Lab coat, darling, lab coat." Squealing, she unbuttoned the off-white coat, scowling at the permanent pen marks and splashes of iodine before handing it to Mr Kim's assistant. Mrs Lee, threw the coat onto her seat, gesticulating for the young scientist to follow her. After a short knock, the heavy glass door was pushed open; several pairs of eyes darting their way.

"Ah, Miss Cheong! How nice of you to join us!" Hongjoong exclaimed, a teasing glint in his eyes that wanted to make her wipe the smirk of his lips.

"My apologies, Mr Kim, we ran into a problem down at the lab." She explained, a blush forging on her cheeks as a grave set of eyes burned into her skin.

"No worries. This is Miss Cheong, she will be our project lead on the next Kim-Park program." The Kim-Park program was founded by Kim Hongjoong of Kim Pharma and Park Seonghwa of Park Pharmaceuticals. With both companies leading the pharmaceutical industry, both founders decided in order to produce a greater economic boom, and serve an excellent supply chain of mandatory medicine; both of their greatest minds could work together to create poignant breakthroughs in the scientific sector. After all, the two companies had the countries top scientists working for them but together they could very well improve the nature of modern medicine. Hence, today both CEO’s came together for a kick off meeting establishing the blueprint for their next, biggest projects.

"'No worries?'" A derisive voice arose from across the room, where she snapped her head to find a man with wide eyes and thin-rimmed square glasses that sat at the bridge of his long nose, staring back at her. His long, slicked back hair that fell past his ears as he, mockingly, cocked his head to the side in amusement. "I didn't know Kim Pharma tolerated tardiness, Mr Kim." Returning his stare back to Hongjoong, he raised an eyebrow anticipating his answer.

“What was the problem down at the lab?”

“House fire." She retorted, "And I had to assign interns some lab work. Kim Pharma doesn't tolerate tardiness Mr Park but your project manager doesn't seem to be here? We'd have valued him being present at the kick off meeting." His face heated red in embarrassment as he gritted his teeth.

Park Seonghwa was insufferable.

The worst thing about him wasn't even that he was pedantic and scrutinised her work with a keen eye, or that his sharp attention-to-detail left her wanting to force him to chug a beaker of concentrated hydrochloric acid. It was that under his strictly co-ordinated demeanour, he was a beautiful man blessed with an angel's aura. It was that he was tall and that his voice could hypnotise her; send her lunging over a precipice into the expanse of uncharted oceans. At times his allure had her wanting to excuse her pathetic hatred. They bickered at every meeting, every email was sent with 'Regards' rather than 'Kind Regards'. It wasn't long before the bickering had transgressed to shouting in the boardroom as he began to question her teachings, snickering at every intellectual point she made as if she had not graduated from university with the same degree as himself.

"You forgot to add that cisplatin is a cis isomer." He stated, as she sat across from her in his office. This time, she didn't bother to retain herself from rolling her eyes. "A problem, Miss Cheong?"

"Who's reading this report, Mr Park? A high school student or the manufacturer? Any man with common sense and college level chemistry knows that cisplatin is a cis isomer. Do you want me to also write down that it has a square planar shape with a bond angle of 90 degrees?" She snapped, leaning back in her chair with a disgusted look. He smirked taking off his glasses, cleaning the lens with the hem of his blazer sleeve. Dear god. Sedate me.

"No, but you do need to explain how cisplatin works in detail. It only works as cis isomer, not trans. You didn't specify that."

"You're incredibly pedantic." Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his perfectly defined nose, the smirk remained fixed on his lips. "I'm not surprised people are handing in resignations, at your company, every week."

"They can leave if they wish, lazy people don't contribute to Park Pharmaceuticals' success." Oh and he was cocky too. As well as being a pretty face full of wits, Park Seonghwa was also wrought with egotism that made her want to wrangle his gorgeous, slender neck. "Have you ever considered joining our company?" A snicker escaped from her lips which eventually transcended into a laughter that wholly baffled him.

"I'm afraid I'd be a part of that sorry statist-,"

"I'm sorry for being an arsehole, Miss Cheong. Can I make it up to you?" And when she questioned him how he would make it up to her, he proposed the idea of a date. All he wanted was her, regardless of her much she was everything he was not. “Go on a date with me, please.” He blurted, with her feet rooted to the ground and lips falling into a thin line his heart palpitated within his chest. He sought the way her hair fell over her shoulders in light waves having ripped it from its knot after she walked out of the lab. Her pink lips were practically begging to be touched by his, he wanted to soothe the symphony of weary sighs that dispersed from her, and the headache that wracked her brain from his abstruse behaviour. Above all, he was falling in love with Miss Cheong because he despised her in such a paradoxical way. He hated the way she was smarter than him and beautiful in the way that she must have been carved from the clouds of heaven.

It often made her giggle at Hongjoong's astonishment when she handed him the wedding invitation. His excitement when he ripped open the seal to read Seonghwa's name as the groom, dropped the smile from his face as he looked at his college friend.

"You're marrying the enemy?" She shook her head at him, almost scolding him for deeming Seonghwa the 'enemy'. "This isn't what I meant when I said 'Fuck Park Seonghwa." Lobbing the pillow at his head, he dramatically sunk into his sofa as their childlike laughter eructed into the blithe atmosphere.

It had felt like a distant dream now, to be loved and adored in the ways that he once did. To be held as if every touch was their last, to be kissed as if their lips would never meet again and they were lovers in the midst of an age-old war that would tear their nimble hearts apart. To have her husband again and not a dispassionate demon who tore past the gates of hell and inflict all the condemned’s curses on her.

Giving you my all, giving you my everything. Laying my life down at your feet, stripping myself of my own honour just to feel something by you. A glance, a breath, a sigh. You tell me to leave- I don’t mean anything to you anymore.

"Hwa, you could have at least told me you weren't going to go in the first place. Then I wouldn't have gone to the company party." Sat at the foot of the bed, he pulled the jumper over his torso, pulling his trapped hair out from the neck hole. He bit his tongue as his wife rebuked him for his absence, once again. "Do you know how humiliating it was for me to be the only one sat without her husband there?"

"I told you I was going to run late."

"You were four hours late, and you're a half an hour drive to the office! Why didn't you say no, in the first place?" Tearing the earring out from her lobe, she sunk into the chair trying her hardest to not slip into tears; the sympathetic stares of hundreds etched into her memory. How stupid did she look for being dressed so ostentatiously, when the real jewel was not even in her possession? The clatter of pearls emptied into the drawers, nails buried into the palm of her hands closing her eyes to relive the myriad of dejection. They never said marriage was this painful. Hard, yes. But not painful. "Hwa, do you love me?" She inquired, turning around in her seat.

"What?"

"It's as simple as you think. Do. You. Love. Me?" Her voice wavered as she asked him, the distant stare in his eyes revealed the answers to the questions that she did not want.

“If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t have married you. Or given you a beautiful daughter. I miss one, silly, company event and you start throwing a tantrum.”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve completely abandoned me!” Her shout restituted off the thin light blue walls, jumping up from her seat at his petty arguments. “You are such a terrible husband and you make me feel trapped in this marriage!”

“And you fucking suffocate me! You suffocate me!” He roared across the room, his strident tone penetrating through her, grazing down the surface of her heart. Rupturing the weak seams that held it together. Stumbling backwards, her palms gripped onto the mahogany table; shaking, biting down her lip to prevent a sob from escaping. "The only time I felt like I could ever breathe, in this marriage, was when I was not with you. When I was at work, or with the others, or just anywhere else. But never with you." Dipping her head, away from him, she shut her eyes as tight as she could.

"Please stop." she whispered, a plead so quiet it almost went unspoken. Yet Seonghwa heard it anyway because no matter how angry he was, their souls were still intertwined. Their hearts beat as one, they were uniform, one whole being. Slowly, he treaded towards her, mimicking the dip of head.

"Why? Can't you take the truth?" he mocked. Full tears pooled in her eyes, her chest burning from holding in her breath. "I should divorce you." He proclaimed, without a stutter. That was enough to break her. An obnoxious wail infiltrated into the void of the room. Was that what he wanted? To provoke some sort of emotion from her to satisfy his ego? He scoffed, before darting from the room—slamming the door shut behind him. Wrought with tears she trudged to her bed, slipping under the covers; sobbing herself unconscious.

"Mummm. Ammiii. Ammaaa." A small voice whispered, the softness soothing the persisting ache in her chest. Holding back the smile ready to break through, she fixed her eyes shut waiting to see what her daughter would do next.

"Dami, let your mother sleep. Come on." The urge to smile had dropped instantaneously, the familiar sense of forlorn gushing into her again; his sweet, addictive voice puncturing holes into her heart.

"I'm hungry." She could hear the pout on her daughter's lips. Huffing, she groaned loudly snapping at her daughters attention, who jumped up and down in excitement of her mother awakening. Reaching out for her child, she picked her up settling her down on her laps. "Mama, I'm hungry." She squeaked.

"Have you washed up yet?" She shook her head. "Ok, let me go to the bathroom first. Then I'll help you."

"I'll help her wash up." Seonghwa offered. Refusing to look at him, she simply gave him a curt nod, the sight of his face wanting to make her erupt into a fit of sobs.

"I promise I'll never make you cry." He had promised, before their marriage. They sat under the stars, the cool wind brushing at their cheeks. Astronomy books sat scattered around her as she attempted to map out constellations in the beaming night.

"And if you do?" She challenged, playfully smirking. With a cute frown he gave her a nudge.

"I promise I won't but in the 0.00001 percent chance that I do, then you should leave me. You’re worth more than the moon to me, and to hurt you is the deadliest sin I can commit." He immediately leaned forward to swoop her into a deep kiss- both of them smiling as they did.

The memory of his now-broken promise brought tears to her eyes again. Tightly pressing her palm to her mouth, to hold back her cries, she sucked in yet another breath

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

Gripping onto the bathroom sink until her knuckles bled white, her knees hit the floor. Nicking the handle of the tap- tears freely flowed down her cheeks as the water rushed through the basin at rapid speed.

I want my husband back.

Feeling the heavy burden of a collapsing marriage, her shoulders sunk as she chopped at the onions, preparing their dinner. Dami sat on the stool by the kitchen island, with her mini crayons scribbling over the pictures in the colouring book.

“Mama, why did Appa sleep in my room yesterday?” Scraping the onions into the pan, she grabbed the wooden spoon to stir it.

“He was missing his little princess. He wasn’t causing you trouble, was he?” She teased, sending her a forced smile. God, it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay happy. To smile was to pain her cheeks, they felt more contented relaxed than to uplift and radiate an aura of joy that didn’t seem to exist within her anymore.

“He’s so big, I fell off bed.” She snorted, laughing at her child’s proclamation. It was not long before a thought occurred to her that whenever they slept in the same bed- it was always her that took up the most room—rather than him. A fond memory occurred to her, specifically a night where her body was plastered to his.

“Ah, jagi, can you move a little? I’m up against the window?” Her body shuffled slightly to the left, giving him room to breathe a little bit more. “Thank god.” He huffed out a sigh of relief, her lips fell into a pout—as she rolled further away from him towards the edge of the bed. If space was what he wanted, then she was going to give it to him. Seonghwa’s arm outstretched for her, the cold air battering his skin was no comfort, he wanted her again. A tantalising laugher infiltrated the air, he shuffled closer to her pressing his lips to the top of her head.

“Never mind I need my cuddly bunny.” He sang, nestling his face into the crook of her neck.

Now, she couldn’t remember the last time he had held her so close to himself. If anything, he needed the space now and rested just less than a metre apart from her each night.

“It was nice! Appa is a teddy bear.”

“Am I, my princess?” Turning away from the doorway, she opened the cupboard to reach for the spices, shielding her melancholic face away from him. The sweet dissonance of giggling entered her ears, if he had no love to spare for her at least he had enough to spare for his daughter. “Ahem, I’m going on a business dinner tonight.”

“Ok.” Seonghwa watched her, resting his hand on the top of his daughter’s head who went straight back to colouring in the flowers in her book—switching to a pink crayon at that. “What time will you be home?” He shrugged, then quickly noticed that with her back to him she wouldn’t see.

“I don’t know. Don’t wait up.” How could he say that knowing that there wasn’t a night in their marriage where she didn’t sit patiently on the sofa, waiting for him to come back home. Even on the days where he warned her he’d be back a lot later than usual. Regardless, she’d stay plastered to the sofa switching from the tv, to her phone, to a random book-eyes continuously flickering to clock- skipping to the kitchen to shove snacks into her mouth, as she’d never eat without him.

The urge to erupt into a fit of sobs inclined, chewing on her lip violently provided her with enough solace to finish making dinner, feed her daughter and put her to bed. Then at last, when she closed the curtains to her bedroom, a hushed cry escaped her; spending the rest of her night as she did prior, wailing and wailing until fatigue had lulled her weary heart to sleep. The creak of the door went unnoticed to her, Seonghwa crept in; her sleeping figure rested in the bed, the comforter dragged over her head. He sighed, contemplating whether to slip beside her or retreat back to Dami’s room for the night.

This sequence continued for the next few weeks, every night she would cry herself to sleep and Seonghwa would sleep in Dami’s bed. It wasn’t even their room at this point, it was hers with Seonghwa’s things in it-just like her flat pre-marriage. Her room with Seonghwa’s books, few pieces of clothes and odd bits of trinkets. One morning she woke up to find a stack of papers on her nightstand. Fear coursed through her blood, were these the divorce papers that he had suggested to her? Rifling through the papers, her heart soothed as soon as she realised they were just Dami’s crayon drawings. Stick figures of Appa, Amma, and little Dami in the middle. Drawings of flowers, then one just of Amma and Appa, a big heart between them. If only that were true. If only his heart still beat for her the same way hers beat for him.

She heard his voice trail out of the study, as she almost raised her hands to knock and summon him downstairs for lunch. The rapid muttering halted her movements, instead she tentatively pressed her ears against the door to assess the situation.

“Yes, honey, I’ll be there soon…She’s pissing me off right now. I’m trying to get the papers set at the moment…I don’t know about a few more weeks?” Slapping her hand to her mouth, she squeezed her lips shut to prevent any pained sounds from releasing. Honey? There was another woman? And the papers? Was he really, truly, trying to divorce her? Rushing to the bathroom, she slammed the door shut, flipping the tap back open to relive the same endless cycle.

“I’m going on a work trip to Japan, for a week. We have an important business meeting. I might need you take care of Dami by yourself.” His head snapped from up Dami’s unfinished Lego project. She’d fallen asleep when playing, so her father took it upon herself to finish building the set.

“You should have asked me beforehand. You can’t just accept to go offshore, and then give me a week’s notice.” He scolded, playing with the pink block between his fingers.

“I only got told today. I tried to call you whilst I was still in office, but I couldn’t get through to you.” Sighing, his shoulders slumped as he shook his head in disappointment. It appeared that Mrs Park was also refraining important matters from her husband; making decisions of her own that they promised they’d always make together. An uncomfortable silence remained suspended in the tense air, shifting uncomfortably in her spot as she awaited for him to say something else. Even if it was to belittle her, she urged to hear the sound of his voice.

“If you cared enough about me, you’d know I’m busy too.” Chewing down on her lip, she held back a painful sigh. There it is. “We’ll be with my parents for a week while you’re gone. When’s your flight?”

“Sunday night.” Nodding, he scooped up the remaining pieces on the floor pouring them back into the packet before getting up himself. “I’ll pick you up from the airport.”

The work trip to Japan was just as tranquil as she anticipated, the host company was as hospitable as they could be. The days were cut short, the air silent subsiding one into deep thought, even if they denied themselves the pleasures of having to think. With her knees tucked up to her chest, she stared out onto the vast market of skyscrapers, the teeming arena beneath contributing the noises that fell deaf at her ears. She needed to leave the home, its confining airs strangling the lumen of her windpipe. She didn't exactly know what to do now that it was confirmed: Seonghwa did not love her. The declaration was enough to send her into delirium, enough to have her jolting up at night; drowning in cold sweats, preaching his name like a mantra. The flight home did not come soon enough, she boarded the plane with such eagerness and drenched even further in pain when she was assigned the seat next to her colleague and her husband.

Nervously, she dialled in his number once more hurriedly, tapping her feet against the cobbled footpath; her free hand latched onto the sweaty handle of the suitcase. Pick up, pick up, pick up. Being met by the voicemail service was disheartening, wrapping her arms around herself as the wind blew harsh against her skin sending a ripple of goosebumps over her.

"Mrs Park, is your taxi late?" Whipping her head around to find her colleague, she shook her head in dismay. "Do you need a lift? We don't live too far from each other."

Pushing through the large wooden gates of his childhood home, she adjusted the straps of her back pack lifting her head to find the blaring of orange lights through the slits between the window blinds. A small bustle of activity could be heard from the other end, tentatively, her fingers rose to provoke the silver door knocker.

"I'll get the door!" His voice floated through the surface, reaching out to caress the aches on her skin bruised wholly by him. As soon as their eyes met across the doorway, the smile was wiped clean from his lips. “Oh god, I’m sorry, it had completely slipped my mind-,”

“You don’t forget things, Hwa. The truth is: it didn’t slip from your mind, you just didn’t care.” You haven’t cared about me for a very long time. You haven’t loved me in a long time. I am no longer your wife but just Dami’s mother, to you. Though some sort of vile emotion named fear had prevented her from saying those words, becoming lodged at the crux of her throat, floating on the tip of her tongue.

The worst thing was, he didn’t say anything. He was silent, unwilling to reckon against her and fight for their marriage again. When did he become so passive? Up until now, when was there a day in their relationship when he didn’t fight to keep her at his side? Trudging into the household, the warmth lacerated her skin, taking off her shoes as the pattering of small feet came her way. A small body engulfed her larger frame, the delightful giggles of her daughter infiltrated her ears as her mother finally came home to her.

"We ate sooo much food. We had tteokbokki, dakgalbi, ramen. Halmeoni tried to make me eat yaksik but it was nasty." Letting out a tired moan she fell onto the floorboard, Dami crawling on top of her, as her mother-in-law stuffed her with enough food to last her a century.

"Ugh, Dami. Please get off Amma, my tummy is going to explode."

"Halmeoni! Amma ate too much!"

"Your Amma didn't eat enough!" Eomeonim shouted back from the kitchen. Seonghwa ambled into the room settling a cup of green tea in front of her, whilst simultaneously lifting Dami from her stomach. There was an uncomfortable silence amongst them as their daughter, oblivious to the obvious tension between her parents, entertained them nevertheless by dancing around the room and singing. He left the room in between to see to his mother in the kitchen. Feeling terrible for leaving her to tend to the mound of dishes, she carried behind walking straight into the enemy's territory.

“Are you stupid, boy? How could you even suggest a divorce?” She hissed. “It was only yesterday when you came running to me, with your eyes so full of love. Where is that love now?”

“People change.” He deadpanned, hot tears fulfilled her eyes, blurring her vision as she rushed back to the front room.

“We’re going, now!” She ordered, a pout on her daughter’s face grazed the surface of her heart. She couldn’t stand here, and hear her husband declare that he didn’t love her anymore. She couldn’t watch the love of her life slip from the tips of her fingers, whilst she sunk beneath the earth under her feet. She reached for his car keys, from his jacket, “We’re going home, eomeonim. I need to go into the office, tomorrow. Thank you so much for taking care of Dami.” Kissing the top of her mother’s head, she slipped on her shoes before carrying Dami out of the home. Seonghwa followed hot on her heels.

“Where do you think you’re going at this time of night?”

“Home, Hwa.” The lock clicked out of the place, she jerked open the car door to fasten her daughter into the seat ignoring her cries and pleads to stay at her grandmother’s. “Dami! Quiet!” She roared, the same way Seonghwa would shout at her for nights on end for doing nothing other than being his wife.

“Stop acting like a child and come back inside right now!” He commanded.

“I won’t, Hwa. Because the next time I go back in and let myself be hurt by you, I’ll have no one to blame but me.” He fell quiet, swallowing the heavy lump in his throat. “I am the still the girl who would wait nights for her husband to come home to her. But you are no longer the boy that would walk straight into her arms.” Choking on her sobs, she jerked open the car door to slip inside, her daughter calling out for her father. After all, they were the same woman. Both so utterly in love with the same man that could not love them both in the ways one could dream of being in love. For being in love with him was asking for annihilation, his devotion unreachable like the stars studded in the midnight sky. Was he not made from the stars? An angel borne from light, whose banner was a celestial plane that would diminish the human essence in a heartbeat? Steering the car out of his driveway, Seonghwa stood plastered to the floor a single tear dropping from his eye as he felt his soul meander away from him.

That night, when they reached home, Dami was tight in her arms after having cried the whole journey home from missing her father. Eventually, exhaustion overpowered her and she reluctantly slept in her mother’s arms. She was so sure now that her daughter thought she was the villain for ripping her away from her father. Nuzzling her small face deeper into her mother’s neck, she felt her bottom lip tremble as she called out for her father.

There was no need to frantically run to the post box every time a letter slipped through, meeting the ground with a loud thud. Though, she did it anyway, with little Dami scuttling behind her as if she was expecting a letter herself though deep down Mrs Park knew that she wanted her Appa to come home. It had been a month having not heard back from him. No messages or calls. After work, she ventured over to his office only to be turned away by his assistant; catching a quick glance at his shadow through his window.

“I have to make an appointment to see my own husband?” She uttered through gritted teeth, though the woman in front merely nodded, disinterestedly. “When is Mr Park next available?” The jarring clatter against the keyboard gnawed at her ear drums, annoyance roaming within her.

Fuck this. Rushing to the handle of his door, she keeled it open storming inside-the loud slam of the door jumping him up from where he sat in his seat. The assistant rushed behind, squawking about how she had to leave.

“Cilla, it’s ok. Go do your job.” He ordered, softly with his eyes fixated on his wife. She didn’t expect him to look this way, the clean, composed Seonghwa now with tousled hair and small dark circles under his eyes. Eyes bloodshot red as if he had been crying for weeks on end, exhaustion piling in them. His sunken face as if he had not eaten for weeks—Seonghwa, not eating? The same man who used to kiss her hands and go for seconds, claiming there must have been some magic in them for she made such delicious food?

“Dami is getting upset. She misses her Dad. The least you could is come home and see her, so she doesn’t think that her father abandoned her too.”

“I’ve been busy—,”

“You’ll always be busy, Hw-Seonghwa. But not busy enough that you can’t spare an hour or two to see your daughter.” She spat, storming straight out of his office, sending the assistant a dirty look on her way to the elevator.

“Appa!” Dami’s animated tone weighed down her father’s heart, his arms wide open as she jumped into them. Fixing her spot by the kitchen doorway she watched as her husband played with her daughter. After a few hours, when they had put Dami to sleep, they sat with each other in the front room Seonghwa pulling out an envelope from his work satchel.

“The-uh- papers. Divorce papers.” A pang struck through her, hands shaking as she reached out for them.

“As her mother, I’ll have custody over her. You should be allowed to see her every week, so maybe the weekend?” Her voice quivered, slightly as she opened up the seal of the envelope, its woody scent wafting up her nose. With little energy, to pull out the form- she settled it onto the coffee table. “We’ll move to my mother’s house…” She trailed off biting down on her lip as Seonghwa closed his eyes shut.

“That’s fine. You can just post it to the lawyer. I’d like to see Dami at my office next week, could you do that?” Nodding diligently, she owed him that much. He’d be counting down the days soon until he’d rarely see his daughter. How would they tell her Amma and Appa weren’t as happy as they were in the drawings?

Her eyes scoured over the woman sat in front of him, as she opened the door to his office. God, she was beautiful with her long, black, silky hair, siren eyes, her chic office look. Everything she was not, though she had managed to pick herself up and put a lot more effort than she usually did with her fitted suit, hair tied back into a sleek bun-held up by the closest pen she could find on her dressing table since her silver claw clip was nowhere in sight. Was she the woman he was going to leave her for? She couldn’t even blame him at this point, why keep something expired when you could throw it away and have something new? Gripping onto the straps of her handbag, she slowly let go of her daughter’s hand who ran to her father’s side.

“Gaeun, this is my wife Mrs Park.” Timidly, she shook her hand. Gaeun saw Mrs Park as an intimidating woman, with her silent face as she ambled into the room with her daughter, her neat hair, pointed heels and tailored skirt that accentuated her curves. She matched Mr Park’s daunting presence perfectly, and of course her intelligence was known to all as well as her insistence to remain at his rivals’ company. “Dear, this is Gaeun- she’s one of the project leads on the next Kim-Park collaboration.”

“I see.” Her head picked up, giving both parties a short nod before leaving the office. She reckoned there was enough to time to make it to her own company and break down in the toilets before beginning the work day.

The rain thundered down from the sky on a solemn afternoon, the clatter of dishes being returned to the cupboards entailing the home; followed the thundering knock at the door. Peeking into the peep hole, she swung the door open, pulling her husband in immediately, rushing around him like a flustered hen as he jerked off his shoes.

“Into the shower now.” Without hesitation, he grabbed his clothes from her bedroom before soundlessly making his way into the shower. She only assumed he had come to their home for the signed papers, perhaps it had been a month at most with their interactions being limited to passing Dami between them like a ball. Their daughter was now no longer oblivious to the tension between them, silently reeling in their odd behaviour.

“Amma, why does Appa not live with us anymore?” Mrs Park’s breath hitched in her throat, glancing at her daughter in the rear-view mirror; only to be met back by those wide eyes; horrifically resembling her father’s.

Oh those eyes. Those gorgeous eyes she wanted to press her lips over, until they went red and numb. Those eyes that had bored into her with silent devotion; how he was so benevolent enough to pass it down to his daughter. Those jokes that hammered through the construction of her weakened soul, “Nine months in my tummy and she looks like you.” He stuck his tongue out at her, ever so deviously; roaming his gaze over the length of her body. She was still so beautiful as ever, despite the curves and extra weight that she detested.

“Dami I—,” Explanations became lodged in her throat, she had simply dismissed her daughter’s innocent question.

All that love, and he was willingly to through it away for another woman. Goodness, how her heart burned— to think that Seonghwa may have been different creature of some sort. But at the end of the day: he was still a man.

The door to the study creaked open, as she bit her lip with the unsigned line glaring back at her. “I haven’t- I haven’t signed the paper, yet.” His breath hitched in his throat, inching closer and closer to her. With the tickle in her throat pervasive, the pen neared the line her heart shattering with every second that her hands rebuked the damned sheet in front. How did she even do her signature?

“I’m sorry that you fell in love with me. I’m sorry that you married me. I’m sorry that I’m not enough. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the perfect wife for you.” She blurted, the pen dropping from her fingers onto the table. He called out her name, drawing forward, his arms outstretched to encircle her into him. To hold her as tight and as true as she deserved. To fulfil her of kisses that he had deprived her of, to ease her of her pain. Though she stopped him in his tracks, with a palm to censor his movements. “No, Hwa. I haven’t been enough for you for a very long time. I must have done something wrong for you to hurt me like this. I must have done something much worse than what you’ve done to me. I just wished you spoke to me than gave me this stupid sheet and trying to end us in a single heartbeat.” An agonising wail left her lips, as she dropped to the floor tucking up her knees to her chest. Her lungs burned, desperate for air running her fingers through her hair as she slowly breathed out to ease the throbbing sensation loitering at her temples. He sunk to the floor with her, engulfing her frame within his. His jumper so soft, drenched in the scent that she adored. The same scent that he wore when they first met. Her bottom lip quivered again.

“You did nothing, it was all me. I forgot who I was, I forgot it was you who gave me life.” Her tears stained his shirt, he held her closer to his body. “I came to here to change your mind. I didn’t want you to sign those papers. I was so scared you had.” Their bodies rocked back and forth as the painful sound of her sobbing gradually declined.

“I couldn’t do it.” She whispered, her throat sore from this prolonging nightmare. Kissing away her tears, his fingers gently tilted up her head so he could bore his eyes in her beautiful ones. “I just need to know if there’s another woman. If there is, and you love her the same way you loved me, you can have her.”

“There was never another woman. It was always you I swear.” He pledged, as his own tears rushed down his face tickling his jawline before pattering carefully on his sweater. “I was just a poor excuse of a man, a poor excuse of a husband. I admit that I felt like you’d never leave me, but when I realised you really could it hurt me so much.” Drawing lines over his sweatshirt she listened to the sweet sound of his voice whisper into her ears.

“I’ll be a better man. I’ll work on me, and you can just keep on being a great wife and mother.” Their lips met in a frenzy of emotions, their palpitating hearts enamouring their befallen entities as passionate kisses filled the wounds that penetrated through them. His hands snaked around her waist, as hers ran through his long hair emitting a husky groan out of him. “Do you think Dami would like a sibling?” He joked, before being met by whack to the back of his head, they deepened the kiss before she happily rested her head against his chest.

“Maybe, but not now. Right now, you need to come home to us.”

“It’s just you and me now. Nothing’s going to hurt you baby.”

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, REPURPOSE, OR PLAGISRISE ANY OF THE WORK HERE

cheong meaning 'quiet' 'eomeonim' means mother-in-law (husband's side) 'halmeoni' means grandma

A/N: i'm sorry if the ending seems a bit rushed, i'm going on some meds soon and i have no idea how shit i'm gonna feel while on them. wanted to update in case i have no energy to release something else for a while😖 Hope you guys liked this one! ✨✨

let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for any future fics I post!

tags: @n0v4t33z @potatos-on-clouds @jjongwho

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skyahri · 1 year ago

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I'm Ready Now |Sasuke X Reader| HC

Summary: You and Sasuke are long-term friends. He's finally decided he's ready to be with you, but you had no idea what had been motivating him all along.

Warnings: Modern AU. Club scene. SFW.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

You've known Sasuke since high school.

You've stuck by him through everything- when his brother was arrested, when he hated everyone and everything, when he rebelled and became a sort of man whore junior year, and even now into adulthood after he simmered down.

But now he was acting odd, and you aren't the only one who's noticed.

Each of your mutual friends had come to you about Sasuke's subtle change in behavior over the past six or so months.

Sakura was the first to ask you about it, wondering if you had picked up on the shift in his demeanor. Then Ino, Sai, Kankuro, and so on.

The biggest change was his newfound confidence.

Not that he wasn't confident before, but this new wave was more... earned. He used to be so entitled and full of himself, so the maturity brought on by this change was refreshing.

You were going to ask Sasuke about it, but you couldn't find the right time.

He had recently taken over the family business, and it was taking up a lot of his time and energy.

When he was young, after his brother had killed their parents, the company was temporarily taken over by a team of advisors until Sasuke was deemed fit to run it.

After receiving his bachelor's in business management and going through several summers of internships, he was given control and promoted to CEO.

That was right around the time he had started to act out of the ordinary.

That's what brings us to today.

It's Saturday, aka the day the whole gang hangs out. Despite how busy Sasuke had become, he always made sure to prioritize it.

He claims it's because Naruto would throw a tantrum, which is true, but you all know he actually enjoys the time together even if he complains.

He'd come to pick you up, a normal occurrence since he had a car, and you did not.

Tonight, you were all meeting up at a club downtown.

The place is packed, but Kiba was able to reserve a table for everyone to sit at.

It was a bit crowded, but that's to be expected from forcing seventeen people into a twelve person booth.

You're a bit too close to Sasuke, but you don't mind. He's cool and comfortable, unlike some of the other men at the table, so it's not awkward.

He slides his arm along the back of the booth to give you a bit more room.

You notice his cologne, the same one he's worn for the past several years. You've always liked it and encouraged him early on to wear it more often.

Once sat, Naruto immediately ordered a round of shots for the table.

And then another.

And another.

With a little liquid courage, the girls had managed to drag their boyfriends to the dance floor.

It wasn't really your scene, so you opted to hang back with the more introverted members of the group: Shikamaru, Gaara, Shino, and Sasuke.

Hinata would've gladly stayed too, if not for Naruto literally dragging her along.

You were happily chatting with the guys before you were forced asked by Ino and Sakura to retrieve more drinks.

Sasuke offered to go with you since there was no way you could carry so many glasses.

The bartender was busy, so you two hung off to the side for a moment while the wave passed.

You decided now was the time to confront him about his change in behavior.

"You've been different lately."

"Different? How so?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. He was playing dumb, something he did often when trying to politely avoid a subject.

"I'm worried about you, you know. You're not the same Sasuke anymore."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

Ah, so he was plenty aware of it.

"Not necessarily. I just want to know whats going on with you. You can talk to me."

Sasuke thought for a moment. He was nervous, well as nervous as he could manage to be.

"I've inherited my family's company."

You looked at him confused.

"I have a degree, I own my apartment, I have a stable career. I have even cleared my family's name in the eyes of the public."

You just continued to look at him, more lost than you were a second ago. What was he getting at? Why would this be bothering him?

"I am finally a man worthy of even asking you for a chance."

Oh?

Oh.

Was he..? Did he really..?

"What?" It's all you can manage to get out.

"You deserve a good man who can provide you with a good life. I've worked hard these past few years to be that man, so I can ask for your hand."

You didn't know what to say. How could you after such a bold proclamation?

So you didn't say anything.

You just tilted your head up to kiss him.

It was perfect- your hands on his chest, one of his on your face, and the other sliding into your hair. The smell of his cologne and fabric of his black button-up.

His lips were surprisingly soft. He's a good kisser, but that's less surprising considering how often he'd gotten around in his youth.

You broke away, and your hands slid down so they could interlock with his.

"Sasuke," you'd stare at him softly, "You've always been a worthy man. Money and status don't change anything."

After that night, he stayed the same new Sasuke, but there was a more relaxed air to him.

You'd hoped to keep things under wraps for longer, but Naruto had apparently seen you guys kiss at the club, and news spread pretty fast after that.

Not that Sasuke minded, no. He liked being able to give you passing touches and brief kisses. He liked being able to look at you without suspicion.

Things were good now.

#sasuke uchiha #sasuke #naruto #naruto headcanons #naruto x reader #naruto shippuden #anime headcanons #anime #sasuke x reader #sasuke uchiha x reader #sasuke uchiha x you #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #sasuke fluff #sasuke uchiha fluff

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modern-inheritance · 6 months ago

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I'm so sorry.

Arya may or may not do this at some point.

"I swore to myself I'd never let anyone see what I've seen or feel what I felt. But you know what?"

"What? Regretting your unbreakable oaths now?"

*chomp chomp motherfucker grin* "No. I swore them in Common. And you, dear fellow, are about to learn the true meaning of the word 'regret.'"

Murtagh: (as Seizure of Power by Marylin Manson plays in the background) Es...Es she okay? Eragon: (reading a magazine while screams crescendo, reaches over and turns up the volume on the music) Yeah, she's fine. Smoothie? Murtagh: ...If we're gonna be here for a while, then yeah, sure.

really cannot overstate that in the expanded universe, boba fett gets out of the sarlacc pit by 1) realizing the sarlacc pit has psychically connected itself to him for Torture reasons, 2) considering his circumstances and very deliberately deciding, "i am going to stop repressing my emotions for like, two minutes," and 3) consequently giving the sarlacc, a creature that literally feeds off suffering, a fucking seizure

#eragon #the inheritance cycle #the world of eragon #ket's modern inheritance cycle #arya #arya drottningu #inheritance cycle #modern inheritance chats #mic chat #mic chats #modern inheritance chat

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space-blue · 1 year ago

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Modern AU Feydpaul, hear me out

Imagine... Just imagine... Feyd's older brother (canonically called Glossu Raban btw lol) is in line to inherit the Harkonnen business, leaving him to enjoy the life he wants. He not really going to uni, one of those smart kids who shows up for the test only and smashes it, *somehow*. He prefers to spend his time working on his band (the Harpies, it's him and 3 bald ladies).

And then one day a student transfer comes in... And destroys Feyd on every test score. Wouldn't you know it, the Atreides conglomerate just won an enormous contract usually taken by the Harkonnen, and his family has moved in town.

Feyd goes to the club to shake the mood off and spots this weird dark academia style twink completely out of place there.

Then they chat, and Feyd gets rocked so hard in the club's toilet, he discovers himself several new kinks. He knows nothing about the guy who just dommed him into oblivion, just that they apparently go to the same uni.

Now picture his face when he rocks up to uni the next day looking for his new rival only for someone to point the 'Atreides guy' to him and it's last night's freak, in black corduroy and cable knit sweater, looking like his only experience with sex is from books, like butter doesn't melt in his mouth.

Anyway.

#spiced and I have been going a little bananas over the idea #it's stupid tasty #feyd being the normie out of the two is just #extremely funny #they definitely both stalk each other #but feyd's been too busy larking #Paul means business #Paul's mind games are out of his world #feydpaul #feyd rautha #harkonnen #paul atreides #modern au #dune 2 #dune 2 fanart

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jeankluv · 1 year ago

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Birdie | Satoru Gojo - Chapter 01

Words: 4.8k

Summary: You didn’t like him, at all. But due to your bad luck you would have to be forced to work with him and different circumstances end up leading you to the fact that perhaps the word dislike is not the one you use to describe him.

Note: divider art credit _3aem (twt)

Tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball

Slow updates

Materialist | next chapter

Wattpad | ao3

While everyone adored him, you stood apart in your feelings. It wouldn't be accurate to say you hated him, as "hate" carried significant weight; rather, you harbored a profound dislike towards him. The problem was he knew that and his irritating presence seemed to persistently cling to you whenever he crossed your paths.

Now, you found yourself paired with him for your semester project, and the thought made you wish to hurl yourself out of the third-floor window. Three months of working alongside him loomed ahead. Adding to the discomfort, you were currently under the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes, each gaze feeling like a murder attempt. It seemed everyone coveted the opportunity to collaborate with Gojo Satoru, except for you.

“We will divide the project in two.” You said looking at the information the teacher gave you. “So we can work on it separately and once we are done we will put it together.” You didn’t like the idea but you disliked even more the idea of spending time outside the class with him.

“That wouldn’t work out, it’s better if we schedule a time to meet and we start working on it.” Gojo talked.

“No.” You said. “I’m way too busy to think about meeting outside of classes.” And it was true, you were working in two different jobs to pay the bills of college and the tiny apartment you were staying on.

“Oh c’mon!” He pouted. “It’s impossible that you are busy every day of the week at every hour.”

“Well I am.” You were starting to get angry, couldn’t he understand you didn’t want to meet with him.

The ring rang and you thanked it, it was time to leave for another class, one you wouldn’t have to see the perfect face of Satoru Gojo.

“Wait! How do we stay in contact?” Gojo spoke when you were about to leave the classroom. You could feel the gaze of a group of girl right on your neck.

“With the email.”

“C’mon.” He said your name. “Give me your number.”

“No and now leave me. I need to get to my class.”

You walked past the group of girls that were chatting obviously about the scene that just happened.

“How can she be so rude with Satoru?”

“Yeah who does she think she is? Does she even know who Satoru is?”

“She is such a loser.”

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. Of course, you were well aware of who he was - everyone knew him. A pampered child from a wealthy family, born into privilege and affluence, often referred to as an “old money baby”. He had everything handed to him on a silver platter - impeccable looks, tall, athletic, and intelligence. For many, he embodied the epitome of perfection. However, for you, he was nothing more than an insufferable jerk whom you couldn't stand.

On the flip side, you were the complete opposite of him. Life hadn't dealt you a fair hand - you struggled to make ends meet. When your mother passed away when you were just six, and your father vanished after hearing news of her pregnancy. Left with no one but your grandmother, you found solace in her loving care. However, as time marched on, you were once again confronted with loneliness when she passed away when you were just 16. With only a meager inheritance from your grandmother and the income from your job at a local store, you barely scraped by until the age of 18. Thankfully, your relentless dedication to your studies paid off when you earned a scholarship to attend the University of Tokyo.

Even though you got into a good college on the degree you wanted, your life in Tokyo hasn’t been quite easy. You were living in a tiny apartment, going to college and working two jobs because it would be impossible to make it to the end of the month with just one job. Luckily, the scholarship covered all my college expenses, but living in Tokyo wasn't exactly easy on the wallet. I found myself navigating life in the bustling city all on my own.

But your aversion towards Gojo Satoru began two years ago, on the first day of college. Rushing late after exhausting yourself at work, you collided with him, causing you to stumble to the ground. Prepared to offer an apology, you were met with his irate ranting, delivered without even a glance in your direction. Had you not been humiliated on the ground, you might have slapped some sense into him right then and there. Why was he so infuriated when he was clearly the one at fault? And the fact that he couldn't even look at you added insult to injury. Frustrated and embarrassed, you left before he could utter another word; you had no desire to hear anything further from him.

The true agony hit when you discovered he would be sharing classes with you. From then on, you made every effort to steer clear of him and his foolishness. However, it seemed everyone in your class, and even in other majors, adored him. The teachers showered him with praise because everything he touched turned to gold. Despite being at the university for two years, you had never managed to outperform his grades, and it infuriated you beyond measure.

For the past two years, you had been lucky enough to avoid partnering with him. However, it appeared that luck had finally abandoned you, and now you were destined to endure his company for the next three months.

You sat on the seat you would normally choose and took out the notebook to take notes of the next class.

“I heard you got assigned with Satoru Gojo in one of your classes.” You heard a voice next to you which made you jump.

“Kyoko… don’t scare me like that.” You cried while putting your hand on your chest trying to calm down. “How did you find out?”

“Well, everyone was talking about how a girl who got paired with the great Satoru Gojo was so rude to him and how she should be more grateful for this glorious opportunity.” You rolled your eyes.

“I might throw myself out of the window…” You leaned your head against the table and closed your eyes. “Three months Kyoko, three months.”

“I know…you know that you can talk to me if he does anything to bother you.”

“Thank you, you’re the best Kyoko.”

She smiled warmly at you, and together you turned your attention to the class. You had met Kyoko on the same day as your initial encounter with Gojo Satoru. Sitting together in one of the classes, an instant connection formed between you two, and from that moment onward, you were inseparable. Kyoko brought a brightness into your life like a ray of sunshine piercing through clouds. On the first Christmas when she discovered you would be spending it alone in your apartment, she whisked you away to her home, where you celebrated with her and her parents. Since then, Kyoko's parents had filled the void of the parents you had dearly missed, and Kyoko herself had become the sister you had always longed for.

The class was over before you knew it. Your hands hurt after taking notes non-stop and your head felt like it was about to explode after barely sleeping last night.

“Do you have time to eat with me? Or you have to go to the grocery store already?” Kyoko stood besides you while walking in the corridor.

“Today I can eat with you. My shift doesn’t start until 3 p.m. so it’s alright.”

Kyoko looked at you with concerned eyes. “Are you sure you are properly resting? You look tired and the grocery store job is okay, but I’m worried about you working on that bar at nights.”

You sighed, she was right the bar was an unpleasant place, most of those who went were men in their 40s or 50s who left their offices and spent the night drinking until they fell at the bar counter, while making obscene comments. But they paid well and the money was something I desperately needed.

You smiled at her. “I will be alright. Don’t worry.”

“You know you can always come to life with me, I know my parents wouldn’t bother taking you in. And if you feel like it would be too much, you could always pay something but then you could quit that crappy job and just work at the grocery store.”

“Kyoko… we already talked about it. I appreciate you and your parents' good heart and intentions but I can handle everything.” She nodded. “And I know I can always count on you.”

“Always.” And she held you from the arm. “Now let’s go and eat something. My treat.” You were about to protest when Kyoko cut you off. “No excuses, you deserve me to invite you especially because my poor best friend is going to have to put up with her least favorite person in the world for three months.”

“Ugh!” You rolled your eyes. “Please don’t remind me of that.”

Both of you laughed and made your way straight to the cafeteria, your stomachs growling with hunger. You had only managed to gulp down a coffee that morning to wake up, and now you were convinced you could devour the entire menu. Taking your usual seats at the table, Kyoko headed to order your food. The cafeteria buzzed with activity, students weaving in and out while conversations filled the air. You glanced at your phone, hoping for some notifications, but all you found were promotional emails from the supermarket.

Kyoko returned with the food, setting it down in front of you, and you delved into a conversation about Kyoko's recent date. It seemed the boy had shown a keen interest in her, but your friend hadn't felt the same way about him. Being the kind-hearted person she was, Kyoko struggled with how to gently let him know she wasn't interested in continuing to see him.

“Oh shit…” Kyoko whispered.

“What?”

“Don’t turn around but I think a certain someone is coming here.” Your eyebrow arched and you clenched your fists.

“Tell me that the certain someone doesn’t have white hair…” Kyoko grimaced and by the time you wanted to say something, the person responsible for your headache at that very moment had sat down next to you.

“Hello ladies!!” He talked with the happiest tone. He called your name but you ignored him, you didn’t want to interact with him, not even a bit. “I don’t think we know each other. I’m Satoru Gojo.” He talked to Kyoko.

“Kyoko. And we actually share a class together.”

“Oh! We do? Sorry I can’t remember it. But it is nice to meet you, Kyoko.”

“Satoru…” Another male voice spoke behind you. Your head was really going to explode.

“Oh Suguru! Come here!” He moved his hand, pointing at the seat next to Kyoko.

“Satoru… why don’t you leave the girls eating alone.” The boy of dark hair looked at his friend and then at both of you. “I'm sorry for bothering you.”

“It’s okay, don't worry.” Kyoko smiled back at him.

“Come on Suguru! Let’s eat with them… I need to spend more time with my classmate, right birdie?” You looked at him.

“Who are you calling birdie?” You were angry, why was he giving you nicknames like you have known each other for years or like you were close.

“Oh so now you pay attention to me…” He smirked and tilted his head as he rested it on his hand and looked at you.

You snorted and pushed the plate away. “Kyoko, I have to go or I'll be late.” You said goodbye to Gojo's friend, who you assumed was called Suguru, and ignored Gojo.

“Take care.” You heard Kyoko. “And sent me a message once you arrived home from the bar!” You gave her a thumbs up and left the cafeteria.

You felt uneasy. What was Gojo Satoru playing at, giving you a nickname? And that look he just gave you—what was that about? You couldn't stand it. Sinking into your seat on the bus, you put on your headphones, seeking a brief respite before reaching your workplace. You were scheduled to work for five hours, followed by a rush to the bar, where you'd likely be working until 2 a.m., if luck was on your side.

As your eyelids grew heavy, you recognized the familiar streets passing by. With just a few stops left until your destination, you stretched out in your seat and rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the fatigue.

You got out of the bus and walked a few steps until you reached the small grocery store where you work. You still had 5 minutes left to work but between changing and preparing everything the time would arrive. You greeted Yu who was behind the counter serving a customer and went to the employee room at the back.

“You are early.” Haibara entered the room.

“I’m 5 minutes earlier… is not THAT early.” You smiled at him.

“You know you can always take the day off and rest. I can cover you if you need it, you look so tired.”

“I’m okay but thank you Haibara.”

“Okay! Then if you are taking my place I will get going. A friend of mine is waiting for me.” You nodded. “Call me if you need anything.”

You waved goodbye to him and observed as he rendezvoused with a tall blonde guy outside the store, someone you vaguely recognized from campus. Throughout the afternoon, several children trickled in to purchase trinkets, occasionally accompanied by adults picking up a few items. The day had been relatively quiet, affording you the opportunity to jot down some notes and review your studies.

As closing time approached, the sliding door chimed open once more, signaling the arrival of another customer. However, you were preoccupied assisting a lady who was meticulously counting the coins needed to pay for her purchase.

“Thank you so much darling.” She said once you were done with her. “Have a nice night.”

“Thanks to you! And please come here again.”

“Hello birdie!” Your mouth opened slightly when you saw who was waiting to be served and the last customer of the day.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” You screamed angrily.

He looked down and moved the bottle he was holding. “Buying something to drink.” He smiled, showing his perfect smile.

“Here?” He nodded. “In this grocery store?” He nodded again. “Of this unknown neighborhood?” He nodded once again. “Gojo…” You touched your head, closing your eyes. “I don’t know what you want or your intentions but don’t you dare bother me anymore.”

“I already told you birdie I’m here, to buy this.” He put the bottle in front of you.

“There you have it. Now, bye.” You turned around and started cleaning some things that were around. It was time to close and you needed to hurry up to got to the bar.

You picked up and changed into the clothes you had come in. For a moment you had to lean against the wall, for an hour or so you had been dizzy and nauseous, but you couldn't allow yourself to be absent. You turned off the lights and closed the grocery store.

“What are you still doing here?” You turned around to look at Gojo who was right in front of the shop.

He walked smiling towards you. “Waiting for you.”

You rolled your eyes, couldn’t he understand you or something. “Well, I don’t want you to be waiting for me. So now… BYE!” And you started moving towards the bar.

“Oh c’mon.” He said your name this time. “Let me accompany you to your house or at least near it. It’s not good for a girl to…”

“Are you a stalker?” Gojo opened his mouth. “And I’m not going home, I need to get to work and because of you I might be late.”

“Work? But you just get out of it.” He walked next to you. “Why would you have two works…”

“Listen Gojo! Not everyone is born on a silver spoon. Some of us have to work our asses out to get the things we want.” You were tired. “You are lucky your parents probably get you everything they want for you but not everyone is that lucky.”

“You’re pale. Are you okay?” You certainly weren’t, but you couldn't afford to be, you had to go to work. “Oh shit! You might have a fever.” His hand was on your forehead, wait when did he get that close?

“Leave me…” Everything was spinning around.

“Hey!” You felt how Gojo held you, preventing you from falling to the ground, and then everything went black.

You weren't certain how long you had been unconscious, but it was certainly for a considerable amount of time. As you blinked your eyes open, you found yourself surrounded by darkness, with only a faint glow of outside light seeping into the room. Despite the dimness, you were able to swiftly recognize your surroundings. You were in Kyoko's room, but how had you ended up there? The last memory you could recall was being with Gojo before blacking out.

“Kyoko?” You whispered. You were confused and still feeling sick.

You saw how a silhouette moved to grab something from the table and then a light from the cell phone illuminated the room.

Kyoko whispered your name. “How are you feeling?”

“Still dizzy…” You touched your head. “How did I get here?”

“Satoru called me.” You looked at her confused, since when she called him Satoru and since when did she have his number. “Don’t look at me like that, when you left I stayed with him and with his friend, Suguru and they are pretty nice guys.” You rolled your eyes. “And his friend is pretty cute.”

“Kyoko…”

“What? It’s true, he was so polite and nice and did you know he studies…”

“Do you like him?”

“I mean… it’s early to say that but I would love to go out with him sometime.” Your friend smiled.

“You remember that there is a guy still waiting for an answer from you right?”

Kyoko pouted. “I know… I will let him know I’m not interested, because it’s true I’m not.”

“Good…”

“But now to what is important.” Oh here it came. “What would you have done if Satoru wasn’t there when you fainted?”

“I… it was just a coincidence. I was totally find this morning.”

Kyoko said your name heavily. “How much have you slept this week? And be honest with me.”

You thought for a moment. “5 hours…”

“That’s not bad, I thought you were going to say something like 2 hours.”

“In the last 3 days…”

Kyoko opened her mouth, letting a gasp out. “Are you insane? You want to die or something?”

“Sorry! But college and the jobs… the jobs, my shift on the bar…”

“Relax. I called them and told them you were sick after Satoru called me.” You breathed in relief. “But don’t try to change the topic. 5 hours in 3 days?! That’s inhuman and you can’t keep going like this.”

“And what do I do Kyoko?” You pulled the sheets up to your face.

“Stay here… we have a spare room, you can stay there.” You growled, Kyoko knew that was too much. Even if you were her best friend, you were still someone from outside the family. “You can pay a minimum if that will make you feel better, but if you stay here you wouldn’t have to pay the rent you are paying right now and you wouldn’t have to work at that shitty bar.”

“I… I will think about it okay…” Kyoko nodded.

“Now go back to sleep.”

“Okay…” You closed your eyes.

“And by the way.” Kyoko spoke again. “Start thinking what you are going to say to Satoru, you throw up on him.”

“I… WHAT?” Your eyes opened like plates.

“Good night~”

“No Kyoko, tell me! What do you mean I threw up on Gojo?” You cried.

“Go to sleep.”

You groaned, feeling utterly mortified at the thought of having thrown up on Gojo. This was beyond embarrassing—how were you supposed to face him and apologize for such a humiliating incident? The desire to vanish into thin air consumed you. Your head spun with the aftermath of the situation, and before you knew it, you had drifted off to sleep.

Upon waking up again, you sensed that several hours had passed; sunlight now flooded through the window, illuminating the room entirely. Kyoko was nowhere to be seen, and you sat up in bed, stretching your stiff body. You felt utterly filthy after experiencing fever and vomiting; a shower was desperately needed.

Searching for your phone to check the time, you discovered several messages awaiting your attention—some from Kyoko and others from an unknown number.

Kyoko ☀️

Rest as much as you want. My mom left you food prepared in the kitchen but you will be alone for most of the day.

You can take my clothes if you want.

And don’t worry about the classes I will take the notes for you.

And by the way, I’m sorry and I love you 😘

Sorry? For what? You tapped on the unknown number and then you understood why she was sorry.

xxxx

Hellooooo birdie !!

Kyoko gave me your number, don’t get angry at her.

I hope you feel better soon

You clenched your fists and sighed, now you would have to endure it because of your cell phone too.

You to Kyoko ☀️

You should be grateful I love you so much and I won’t kill you.

And thanks, I will be taking a shower and do you mind if I take one of your pajamas?

Kyoko ☀️

Everything that’s mine is yours 😘

You rolled your eyes at your friend. And opened once again the chat of Gojo. How should you respond to him? Should you apologize for throwing up at him? Should you just be as cold as always? The guy was messaging you after you fainted and threw up on him, he didn’t deserve to be treated coldly although you wanted to.

You to Pain in the ass

Hi. I’m good

Thanks for yesterday and sorry for what happened…

Also stop calling me birdie, people would think we are close or something

Leaving your phone on the table, you grabbed one of Kyoko's pajamas and made your way to the bathroom. Compared to a few hours ago, you felt significantly better; the fever seemed to have subsided or at least diminished in intensity. After a refreshing shower, you changed into the pajamas and headed to the kitchen.

True to Kyoko's word, her mother had left a plate of food prepared for you. Grateful for the gesture, you sat down to enjoy the meal. Retrieving your phone once more, you noticed two notifications, which came as a surprise—they were not the usual supermarket offers.

Pain in the ass

Don’t worry about it, I’m glad to hear you are okay

*This message was deleted*

What did he send and delete after?

Pain in the ass

Since you are sick we decided to accompany Kyoko for lunch!

And there was a picture of Kyoko with Gojo and two other people, the guy from yesterday, Suguru and another girl you didn’t know about. Kyoko was smiling and doing the peace sign next to Suguru, while Gojo was the one taking the selfie and showing off his perfect teeth.

You to Pain in the ass

You better treat Kyoko right, or you will hear from me once I’m back at class.

It was hard to believe you were talking so casually with him. You shook your head, talking like that on the phone was just a way of being polite with him, nothing else.

Pain in the ass

If that way I get you to talk to me

You stayed looking at the message for a couple of minutes. Something on your stomach was moving. Stupid Satoru Gojo.

You to Pain in the ass

By the way, do I need to pay you something… for you know…

Pain in the ass

For what?

You to Pain in the ass

Don’t make me say it, it’s way too embarrassing.

Pain in the ass

If you don’t tell me what I won’t know 🤷

You to Pain in the ass

Throwing up on you!

Do I need to pay for something? Like dry cleaning or something?

Pain in the ass

Hehe

You wanted to punch him, he obviously knew.

Pain in the ass

Nop, you don’t need to pay anything. Don’t worry 😉

You to Pain in the ass

Okay, now I will leave to sleep

Don’t bother me Gojo!

Pain in the ass

Alright birdie!!

Rest well. I don’t want you throwing up and fainting in the arms of other people

You to Pain in the ass

Say something like that again and I’m blocking you

Pain in the ass

🥺

You rolled your eyes and left the phone once again. He really was a pain in the ass. You went to Kyoko’s room and lay down on her bed, although you were feeling better, you were still feeling tired, so you decided to sleep for a bit more, at least until Kyoko returned home.

You heard a door close and someone walk down the hall in silence. You knew it was Kyoko when she entered the room. She walked up to you and you smiled at her when your eyes met.

“You look better.”

“I feel better.” You say stretching on yourself. “I feel like I have slept everything I haven’t slept in a month.” You looked at Kyoko and she was doing a grimace of disgust. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Have you thought about it? About moving here?”

You did. You thought about it a lot, but you couldn't deny that you were at a point where if you continued at that pace you would end up killing yourself.

“I will.” Kyoko screamed with happiness. “But only if your parents are okay with it.”

“And they are! Don’t worry.” She started clapping and jumped out of bed with happiness. “By the way, I’m surprised you met Satoru yesterday at the grocery store.”

You looked at her strangely. “Didn't you tell her where she worked?” Kyoko shook her head.

And then it hit you, you haven't told Haibara that you would not be going to work today, he would probably be covering for you and you would have to tell him.

“Shit… Where is my phone?” You looked around.

“Who is Pain in the ass?” Kyoko hang you the phone.

“It’s Gojo…” She nodded while you searched for the number of Haibara on your phone. “Haibara!” You said when you heard him picking up. “Yeah it’s me… I’m so sorry, I’m sick and I couldn’t go today… I hope you-” Kyoko looked at you when felt silent. “What do you mean you already knew? Who told you?” Kyoko watched you with interest trying something of what was said on the other end of the phone. “Oh… okay. I will thank him then… Yeah. Bye.” And you throw the phone to the side.

“What’s with that face?”

“Gojo Satoru told my coworker I was sick.”

“That’s pretty considerate.”

“They are friends…”

“Who?”

“My coworker and Gojo, that’s why he appeared there.” You realized. “Probably Haibara told him and he came to bother.”

Kyoko called your name and you looked at her. “I don’t think he went to bother you…”

“Well… but it’s strange he went all the way to that place! Why would he go if it wasn’t to bother me?”

Your best friend sighed and closed her eyes, whispering something you could not hear and then looked back at you. “Thanks he was there. Or who knows what would have happened to you.”

You rolled your eyes. “You are right. And I already thanked him.”

“Oh you did?”

“Don’t act surprised when you were the one that gave him my number.”

She put her hands in the air and smiled. “Sorry. But he was really, REALLY insistent…”

“I can imagine.”

“He sent you a message right? What did he say?”

You took the phone and unlocked it to see the message that Gojo sent you.

Pain in the ass

I'll save you place next to me in class for tomorrow 🙆

What’s up with him?

“Oh…” Kyoko smiled next to you.

“What?”

“Nothing… figure it out yourself baby.” She smiled.

“Kyoko… Kyoko, what did that oh ment, come back here.” You followed her through the corridor while she laughed.

“No.” She continued laughing. “Oh!” She stopped walking and turned to look at you. “I already sent a message to the guy.”

“Finally.”

“Yeah…”

“You? Are you really going to try and go out with Gojo’s friend?”

She shrugged and smiled. The fact that Kyoko started dating Gojo's friend didn't particularly bother you, but it did mean potentially spending even more time with Gojo than you had anticipated. The mere thought made your head ache again. However, before dealing with that, you needed to figure out how to face Satoru Gojo tomorrow. It would mark the first encounter since... that incident.

Note: a comment and a like would be appreciated. Also comment to be tagged in the chapters

Tag list: @crybabytoru, @sanriosatoru, @norvacaine, @sadmonke

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brw · 13 days ago

Note

do you have any headcanons for characters who have never (or briefly) interacted in canon but you think they would be great friends if they did interact?

Maybe friends is too strong a word, but I think Eddie Brock and Cloak and Dagger would be a fantastic group to explore. I think Cloak and Dagger would scratch the perfect itch for Eddie to get really abnormal about them, because they're both Catholic and are always hanging around and living in Catholic Churches, they have a unique form of justice that isn't compatible with Peter Parker's, and I think their specific flavour of very intense co-dependency would be like crack to a guy like Eddie. I think he'd get very strange about wanting to make sure they're both safe and would perhaps project some of the details and dynamics of his relationship with the symbiote onto them. I just think it would be interesting. Maybe they could fix him.

Lemar Hoskins and Bucky Barnes have never interacted in comic canon, which I think is a crime. Like, all the other characters who have been Bucky as a mantle after his "death" have been teenagers, and you know, white, so I think it would be interesting for Lemar who is Not Those Things and Bucky to kind of discuss his legacy and what he meant to young kids at the time. Maybe it makes less sense these days because of the sliding timescale, but still, I'd like to see it. Particularly because Lemar is a far more personable, charming, restrained person than John Walker and is much better at hiding the rough edges of himself from view, so I think it would be interesting to see Bucky compare him and wonder how he and John are so close, before something happens that makes him realise that Lemar is low-key worse than John in a lot of ways.

Golden Age Vision and Modern Vision should sit down and chat sometime, just for fun. For me, specifically.

Wanda Langkowski and Charlene McGowan should also chill out together I think Charlene could crack that egg and I think it would be beautiful. And I just think as fellow unethical scientists doing weird things with gamma for gender affirming reasons, they could really understand each other and relate to one another. In general, I want Wanda to interact with more members of the extended Hulk dynasty. Where's the Brawn and Alpha Flight limited series...

Speaking of Wanda's, I'd like Wanda Maximoff and Hellstorm to have a weird but kind of mutually respectful relationship. While Hellstorm kind of sucks, I think Wanda would appreciate that he is trying desperately not to be his father's son but has inherited all of the powers that that status entails, and while he does try to use it for good, the lines between good and evil when you're the son of Satan can blur heavily. And I think they'd have a lot to teach each other about their respectful fields, and I especially think Hellstorm could be useful of teaching Wanda how to handle and channel Chthon more effectively.

Finally, before he was a liaison for the US government, Everett Ross was a lawyer so I think he and Jennifer should know each other as legal counsel to superpowered people. Honestly they probably wouldn't like each other but I'd like to see it regardless.

#anonymous #asks #marvel comics #eddie brock #cloak and dagger #lemar hoskins #bucky barnes #and I can't be bothered tagging anyone else

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modern-inheritance · 4 months ago

Text

Arya: For fucksake, I know it's YOU, GLEN. Glenwing: <stops birdcalls from under the windowsill> Well tweet tweet motherfucker to you too.

Logging in on my break to make sure yall remember birds exist.

#inheritance cycle #eragon #modern inheritance #the inheritance cycle #the world of eragon #glen #glenwing #ket's modern inheritance cycle #arya #arya drottningu #mic chat #mic chats #modern inheritance chat #modern inheritance chats #trauma twins

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renlyslittlerose · 9 months ago

Text

Kinktober Day 3 - CEO Obi-Wan and Sugar Baby Anakin

For an anon who requested: Hello, for your kinktober prompts, would you consider sugarbaby!Ani? Or maybe CEO!Obi-Wan and intern!Anakin?

Cause I Want It - 4,669 (lol) Rating: E Content: Established Relationship / Explicit Sexual Content / Alternate Universe / Alternate Universe - Modern Setting / CEO Obi-Wan Kenobi / Sugar Baby Anakin Skywalke / rAnal Sex / Anal Fingering / Rimming / Come Eating / Desk Sex / Office Sex / Bottom Anakin Skywalker / Top Obi-Wan Kenobi

---

There was something about men in ties that appealed to Anakin.

The way in which the muscles of their hands flexed as they put it on, the sharp tugs and quick movements as it was looped and then tightened, the brush of fabric as it squeezed down ever so around the long cords of a thick neck…

Anakin knew the exact moment he became obsessed with men in suits. His mum loved to watch old movies from back before colour existed on the television, and after a long day’s work she’d lounge in her chair with a bowl of microwave popcorn as the pretty men and women traipsed around on set, love in their eyes and passion in their voices as they revealed years’ long love that had changed the very fabric of their being. Anakin had always found them too sweet for his tastes, preferring movies with a few more explosions and a few less kissing scenes, but when he walked by one night and saw him on the screen, Anakin was enamoured.

Jaastor Kimbhorn.

He was in some film about a woman potentially losing her inheritance after her parents died in a shipwreck. He was supposed to be her lawyer, but ended up becoming too attached to her case and had to recuse himself. Anakin really didn’t care about the plot of the film though, even as his mother caught him up as he stood dumbly in the doorway. All he cared about was how hot Kimbhorn was. Dressed in a three piece suit with a tie that sat snuggly against the knot of his throat, he cut a magnificent image with his slicked back light hair and perfectly trimmed moustache, light eyes twinkling in every scene he was in.

The man was the embodiment of power, of wealth, and ambition.

From then on Anakin realised he had a thing. But it wasn’t anything different to any other attraction he insisted to Padmé when she’d found out his hidden kink, and it wasn’t weird like Ahsoka had said, even as she blushed and sputtered when Anakin pointed out that her obsession with girls’ tan lines was also weird.

Occasionally he’d admire a man in a downtown bar fresh from work and still in his suit, his tie hung inelegantly from his neck as he ordered another whiskey with a chaser. Anakin would toy with the idea of approaching the man; ask who he was, where he worked, show interest until Anakin inevitably panicked and walked away after saying something ridiculous. But they were all just fantasies, Anakin far too shy and awkward to actually approach a stranger in a well tailored suit.

But when Anakin began working for a tech company that developed robotics to aid the medical industry, Anakin’s obsession only increased. Of course the department he worked for in the company was filled with people who bucked and brayed against corporate culture and wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a suit let alone a tie, but any time one of the higher-ups walked past his office or popped their head into see what was up, or even stopped to chat with Anakin next to the coffee maker in what seemed like a bid to relate to one of ‘common folk’, Anakin was forced to recognize that Jaastor Kimbhorn wasn’t just a phase or a passing interest.

Anakin just really liked men in suits.

One man in particular, in fact.

A man that Anakin really shouldn’t have approached that one day in a bar but did anyways, because it was the one day he was feeling confident and willing enough to at least ask. A man who smelled like expensive cologne and sounded like one of the men from his mum’s old movies, accent crisp and smooth as it danced across Anakin’s jaw and temple as he leaned in to speak. A man who let Anakin tug on his tie as they made out in the back of a cab, hands searching and lips tasting of expensive cocktails while the taxi driver tried to keep his eyes on the road. A man who in the morning made Anakin breakfast and let him paw through his collection of old records as they waited for their teas to steep and bread to toast.

A man who Anakin worked for, apparently.

His stomach sank when he realised that this handsome man who told him to call him ‘Ben’ all night as they sucked each other’s tongues was actually Obi-Wan Kenobi, a self-made billionaire, philanthropist, and the CEO and founder of Kyber Computing.

‘I hope you don’t hold it against me,’ Obi-Wan had said when Anakin saw the framed newspaper article hung on the wall of his office.

‘I hope you don’t fire me,’ was all Anakin could say in turn.

But Obi-Wan didn’t fire him. In fact, he asked for Anakin’s number and to take him out to dinner that Saturday night.

And of course Anakin said yes. And of course Obi-Wan showed up in a magnificent suit that Anakin was sure cost more than his apartment and car combined.

They kept things casual at the start, Obi-Wan busy with work and Anakin still worried about the implications of Obi-Wan technically being his boss, but reality quickly set in for both of them that casual just wasn’t something either of them could make work. Text messages turned into daily calls which turned into daily face-times, Obi-Wan managing to squeeze some time in every day just to see Anakin even if it was through a phone screen. When he did have time Obi-Wan took Anakin out on all sorts of dates, many of them expensive but others still intimate and quiet, the pair sat on the front of Anakin’s car as they ate cheap hot dogs and gazed out at the countryside view, or lay on Obi-Wan’s bed as they listened to his record collection and talked about everything and nothing.

Anakin was gifted with all sorts of things, many of which he loathed to accept but Obi-Wan insisted on. His busted up watch he’d bought from a chain store for twenty credits was replaced with a gold watch that sat heavy on Anakin’s wrist; his lumpy mattress became a pillow-y soft one that didn’t make either he or Obi-Wan wheeze when they stood up from it; tires on his beat-up old car were replaced, followed by the cracked windshield, then the battery, then the spark plugs, followed by the whole car.

Anakin had never envisioned he would end up dating a man whose riches were only exceeded by his generosity, but then again, Anakin had never envisioned he would end up finding anyone in general, let alone the CEO of the company he worked for.

And it was all because Anakin liked a well-tailored suit and silk ties.

That, and the fact that Obi-Wan seemed to be into whatever brand of crazy Anakin was peddling. Which maybe spoke more to Obi-Wan than Anakin, but Anakin wasn’t going to complain.

XXX

They agreed to keep their personal lives separate from their work ones, which had been easy at the start. Anakin worked in a completely separate building from Obi-Wan, his work station a desk piled high with wires and tubing and schematics, the windows looking out across a parking lot, the walls covered in all sorts of clippings and photographs that made Anakin look like a detective trying to solve the murder of a robot. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan worked from the top floor of the company’s downtown office tower, his desk covered in papers, empty tea cups, and scattered pens, the windows looking out across the entirety of the downtown core, his walls covered in accolades and fine art.

But occasionally their respective roles would cross, and the promises they made to keep things professional went out the window. Mostly it was Obi-Wan visiting Anakin. He would come to see what they were up to at the factory and Anakin would pretend to give a shit about his projects before he’d drag Obi-Wan into an abandoned closet and demand to be fucked against the shelf of cleaning supplies, or in the back of Obi-Wan’s expensive car, or under Anakin’s desk with the scent of plastics and soldered wiring thick in his nose.

But every once in a while Anakin would get to go and see Obi-Wan in his little castle in the sky.

“How much longer?”

“He will be finished when he’s finished, Mr. Skywalker.”

“But it’s been twenty minutes and the food is getting cold—”

“Mr. Skywalker…”

Obi-Wan’s assistant sent Anakin a glare as he sat back down. Next to him the take-out he’d brought continued to cool, the steam that had billowed out long since dissipated. He could still smell the curry though, and his stomach growled obnoxiously.

That earned himself another glare.

Tilting his head back he stared up at the ceiling, his feet kicked out in front of him. A part of him wanted to interrupt Obi-Wan’s call and demand that he give him all the attention he wanted, but the sensible part - the part that Ahsoka said he lacked - told him to continue to wait. Obi-Wan would appreciate his patience and in various ways, if Anakin was lucky.

Another five minutes passed before Anakin tossed his head back up to the upright position and sat up a little straighter in his chair. He caught sight of Obi-Wan’s assistant daintily eating her lunch while she watched something on her phone.

“What are you watching?” he asked.

She looked up from her phone and stared at Anakin. “Are you talking to me?”

“Who else would I be asking?”

She sniffed and glanced back down at her phone, a sudden blush appearing on her cheeks before she spoke. “Love Planet.”

“Is that the reality show where they stick a bunch of singles on a planet and see who fucks who?”

“No,” she said quickly, “it’s to see who falls in love.”

Anakin rolled his eyes. “Sure, okay.”

Just before he was about to get an earful from the assistant about how the show was clearly about love and not hot people hooking up, the system on her desk lit up and a familiar voice travelled through.

“Is Anakin still there?” Obi-Wan asked.

“He is,” the assistant replied as she glared at Anakin.

Standing, Anakin grabbed the curry just as Obi-Wan asked her to send him in, and he swiftly went through the door and into Obi-Wan’s office. Without asking he locked the door and turned around to look at Obi-Wan. He was sitting back in his chair, copper locks of hair draped across his bangs in an uncharacteristically dishevelled state, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to expose his forearms, tie slightly loose around his neck with the top buttons of the collar popped open.

If Anakin hadn’t trusted Obi-Wan more, he’d have said he looked like he’d just been fucked.

“You look like you’ve just been fucked,” Anakin said aloud.

Obi-Wan snorted and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps not in the literal sense, but definitely in the figurative.”

“Bad call?”

“Potentially. Hopefully I can put the fire out before it burns too much.” Obi-Wan smiled tensely, but it was soon swept away when Anakin held the food up. “Lunch?”

Stepping further into the office, Anakin dropped the take-out bags down onto Obi-Wan’s desk. “I didn’t get us drinks - figured your mini-fridge would be stocked full of all sorts of fancy water that hurts to drink.”

“It’s no different from pop,” Obi-Wan mumbled.

Anakin rolled his eyes and stepped around the desk. Sitting on the edge he spread his legs slightly and smiled when Obi-Wan rested his hand on his knee. Obi-Wan squeezed slightly before sliding his hand further up, fingertips pressed into the inner-seam of Anakin’s jeans.

“Water should be still,” Anakin continued.

“It tastes no different from normal water, Anakin.”

“It tastes spicy.”

Obi-Wan chuckled and closed his eyes. Exhaustion slipped across his features then, the sight of it making Anakin’s chest squeeze a little. Reaching out he brushed Obi-Wan’s bangs back from his forehead and smiled when Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered open.

“The curry is a bit cold now, but I can go heat it up somewhere if you want.”

“In a moment. Right now I’d rather just be with you.”

Anakin tilted his head to the side and chewed his bottom lip, watching as Obi-Wan’s pupils expanded ever so. “Be with me…” Anakin repeated, voice soft. He took Obi-Wan’s hand and guided it up further, the tips of his fingers almost touching his groin. “Or be in me?”

Obi-Wan’s startled laughter made Anakin laugh as well. It eased the tension in the room, and Anakin slipped off the desk only to straddle Obi-Wan in his chair. It groaned slightly with the combined weight, but Anakin paid it no mind.

“You wanna talk about your call?” Anakin asked. He moaned softly as Obi-Wan cupped his ass and kneaded the muscles.

“Not particularly,” Obi-Wan mumbled. He tilted his head up to look at Anakin, adoration visible just beneath the haze of arousal. “Are you able to take a slightly longer lunch today? Your boss won’t miss your presence terribly like I will?”

Grabbing Obi-Wan’s tie, Anakin tugged at the soft silk, making Obi-Wan’s neck arch slightly, the knot on his throat bobbing after a thick swallow. “I mean, you’re my boss’ boss so you tell me. Can I stay a little while longer?”

Obi-Wan caught the back of Anakin’s neck in a tight grip and pulled him down for a hungry kiss. Anakin sighed into the embrace, his lips parting to allow Obi-Wan to sweep his tongue inside, their tongues rubbing in lazy motions. It wasn’t often that Obi-Wan allowed himself the impropriety of fooling around with Anakin in his office. Though he was prone to bouts of insanity commonly brought on by a hard-on, he still tried to withhold when it came to basic decency such as not shoving his tongue down Anakin’s throat and his hand down the front of his jeans in the middle of the work day.

But every once in a while Anakin caught him in a good mood, or a bad mood, or just a mood in which he let his walls crumble and his hands wander.

Shifting his hips forward Anakin started grinding down on Obi-Wan as they continued to kiss, open mouthed and messy as they groped one another. Keeping a tight hold on Obi-Wan’s tie, Anakin tugged slightly on the material, pulling Obi-Wan closer while Obi-Wan’s hands slid down his back to cup his ass, kneading and pulling at the muscles. With a gasp Anakin pulled away and rested his forehead against Obi-Wan’s, his hips still grinding down while Obi-Wan responded in kind, the familiar thick swell of his cock pressing against Anakin’s underside.

“Want a blowjob?” Anakin asked.

“With you beneath my desk? How cliche.”

“You want one or not?”

“I’d rather fuck you,” Obi-Wan said. He caught Anakin’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugged. “Unless you’re not still loose from last night…”

“You think I’m always loose for you?”

“Aren’t you?”

Obi-Wan reached between them and undid Anakin’s belt, popping the button on his jeans before pulling the zipper down. Without wasting a second Obi-Wan slipped his hands beneath Anakin’s jeans to touch him in full, his warm, broad palms sliding along Anakin’s skin before thick fingers slid between his cheeks to press against his hole. Anakin gasped and bucked backward, desperate for more stimulation.

“See?” Obi-Wan mumbled against Anakin’s lips. “Your greedy little hole is still ready for me…”

Anakin groaned and kissed Obi-Wan again, messy and uncoordinated as Obi-Wan kept pressure against his hole, teasing him with the simple thought of being filled. Anakin had never been much of a size-queen when he’d started seeing Obi-Wan, but the second Obi-Wan pulled himself out to present his thick, fat cock to Anakin, suddenly Anakin could think of nothing but the satisfying ache of being stretched.

Letting out desperate moans Anakin gripped Obi-Wan’s collar with one hand, the other sliding up his neck and along his jaw before tangling in his silken locks, tugging them further out of their styled hold. Eventually Obi-Wan snapped and his grip tightened, his muscles tensing as he quickly hefted Anakin up and dumped him unceremoniously onto the desk. Anakin narrowly missed the take-out food, and with less care than was needed he pushed it to the side, sending piles of papers on Obi-Wan’s desk to fall to the floor.

“You’re making a mess of my office,” Obi-Wan chided as he undid his belt and pulled his tailored slacks down.

“I’ll be making a mess of you too, when all is said and done.” Anakin grinned and teased the tip of his tongue out from between his teeth as he too pulled his jeans down to his thighs, the fabric catching on him.

But before he could get frustrated Obi-Wan grabbed at them as well, pulling them down until they caught on the tops of his shoes. Batting Obi-Wan away for a moment, Anakin sat up and awkwardly kicked his shoes off before collapsing back on the desk, letting Obi-Wan undress him the rest of the way. He hissed as the cold air from the air conditioner hit his cock and balls, but didn’t have time to complain before Obi-Wan began warming him up, his palm hot across his length.

Bucking up into Obi-Wan’s touch Anakin stretched out across the desk, moaning loudly as Obi-Wan pushed into the slit of his cock and played with the ridging along the glands. He stared up at Obi-Wan through heavy-lidded eyes, admiring the lock of hair that draped across his brow, the collar of his shirt mussed and open, exposing the undershirt he always wore beneath. His watch jingled with each thorough tug he gave Anakin’s cock, the sound of it oddly erotic as it mixed with their pants and the slick sound of precome across smooth skin.

“I’ll still need a bit of prep,” Anakin said. Spreading his legs a little, he braced his hand at the base of his cock while Obi-Wan continued to touch him, fingers pressing against the seam of his balls, causing him to let out another loud moan. “I know you’ve got lube in your desk drawer.”

“I never used to keep a bottle there,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin detected a hint of another sort of blush beneath his already pink cheeks. “I used to be quite professional, you know that?”

“Liar,” Anakin said. He hissed slightly when Obi-Wan wrapped his hand around his own and squeezed, forcing Anakin to squeeze down on the base of his cock, denying him further pleasure. “A professional man doesn’t go home with some stranger he met at a bar after only two drinks.”

Obi-Wan’s grip lessened, and his eyes softened slightly as his attention wandered down between Anakin’s legs. He stroked Anakin’s thigh with his free hand, petting him gently. “Not a stranger,” he said softly as his gaze came to rest between Anakin’s legs. “More like a soul that I felt an instant connection to. Why waste any pretences when we both knew the steps of the dance?”

Anakin’s chest squeezed a little, but he brushed away the intimacy with a soft laugh. “Fancy way of saying you really wanted to see what my cock looked like.”

Obi-Wan smiled - a quick little quirk of his lips that always made Anakin feel special - before he pulled away and opened the bottom drawer of his desk. Shuffling around a bit, he took out the bottle of lube and presented it to Anakin.

“Knew you had some,” Anakin said.

Bending his knees, Anakin rested his feet on the edge of Obi-Wan’s desk and presented himself, his hands sliding up beneath his shirt to expose the plains of his stomach. He preened under Obi-Wan’s hungry gaze, loving how Obi-Wan practically fucked him with his eyes before touching him in any way, his cock pulsing with each admiring look. His grin only grew wider when Obi-Wan hovered above him, his heat and the scent of him enveloping Anakin as Obi-Wan pressed two thick fingers against his hole.

He relaxed immediately into the intrusion, groaning as he was once again filled. They’d fucked the night before, Anakin riding Obi-Wan until his knees and low back ached. Afterward Obi-Wan had given him a massage and prattled on about a trip they could take together once Obi-Wan found the time to get away for a bit. Both knew it probably wouldn’t happen, but Anakin had to believe.

Tugging Obi-Wan down by his tie, Anakin kissed him deeply again. He tasted like cinnamon gum and his own unique taste, Anakin swallowing it up as he was stretched further when Obi-Wan slipped in a third finger. He probably didn’t need to be prepared, but Anakin enjoyed it all the same. Obi-Wan was always so careful and yet demanding in his touch, never giving Anakin more than he could handle but also not holding back.

He gasped into their kiss when Obi-Wan found his prostate, blunted fingertips pushing into the bundle of nerves. Pleasure hummed throughout his body, pooling in his groin before fanning out to lick and lap through his limbs up to the top of his skull. Sucking on Obi-Wan’s tongue, Anakin tugged him closer until they were hugging, not an inch of space between them as Obi-Wan continued to finger him.

“You’ll come just from this,” Obi-Wan whispered against Anakin’s lips when they broke for air.

“No I won’t,” Anakin huffed, “I can control myself.”

“You always say that right before you come.”

Anakin felt heat crawl along his cheeks and chest, and he pushed Obi-Wan away gently. “Then get to it.”

Obi-Wan slipped his hand out, the weight and stretch of them immediately missed by Anakin. Sitting up on his elbows Anakin watched as Obi-Wan pushed his shirt up to expose his cock as it swung between his legs, thick and heavy and leaking. Biting the inside of his cheek, Anakin admired the flex of Obi-Wan’s wrist as he stroked himself, slicking his cock with lube and his own seed.

He wiggled his knees a little when Obi-Wan looked at him, tongue once again teased between his teeth. “Will I get paid overtime for this?”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. Positioning himself between Anakin’s legs, he braced the base of his cock and locked eyes with Anakin before he pushed inside. Immediately the familiar stretched overwhelmed, and Anakin dropped back down onto the desk, eyes squeezing shut as Obi-Wan’s girth stretched him open. The familiar satisfying ache returned, Anakin’s own cock pulsing against his belly, and he tugged at it a few times as Obi-Wan settled deep within.

Opening his eyes as soon as Obi-Wan had pressed in all the way, Anakin stared up at him. He’d closed his eyes, his brow furrowed and jaw clenched as he restrained himself, tension and pleasure flickering across his handsome features. His tie hung inelegantly from his throat, knocking against Anakin’s jaw, and he grabbed it and wrapped it once around his hand, locking Obi-Wan in place.

Curling his hips slightly, Anakin wrapped his legs around Obi-Wan’s waist and dragged him in further, causing them both to moan.

“Your secretary is gonna hate me even more,” Anakin murmured.

Obi-Wan’s laughter started and then immediately stopped the second Anakin tightened his walls. Adjusting to the pressure, Anakin kept a firm hold on Obi-Wan’s tie before Obi-Wan’s eyes finally opened. Gazes locked, Anakin leapt into the ocean blues of Obi-Wan’s eyes.

“Move,” Anakin whispered.

Hands braced on the desk, Obi-Wan began fucking Anakin with a quick pace, pulling out before snapped back in. Anakin let out another cry and held on to Obi-Wan’s tie even tighter, tugging him down to crush their lips together. The pace quickly became brutal, Obi-Wan’s cock stretching Anakin open, striking him deep in his core, as if he was being hollowed out and then stitched back together with each hit. The desk began to rock with the motion, the wood groaning beneath the weight, the sound of it mixing with the sharp slap of flesh against flesh and the needy moans that slipped between locked lips.

Wrapping his free arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders Anakin held on for dear life, his low back curved, hips angled, ankles locked together as he pulled Obi-Wan in as far as he could go. Pleasure coursed through him, his cock pulsing between them, thick streams of precome coating his exposed stomach and messing up Obi-Wan’s tailored dress shirt.

The thought of reducing Obi-Wan’s perfect suit to ruin turned Anakin on more than he knew it should have.

Maybe Ahsoka was right; maybe his kink was weird.

“C’mon, darling,” Obi-Wan huffed against Anakin’s lips, their breath hot as it bellowed between them. “C’mon, that’s a good boy. Give me everything you have… c’mon, love.”

Anakin came then. Gripping Obi-Wan’s shoulder Anakin threw his head back and arched, his walls tightening as he locked Obi-Wan in place, hips rocking slightly as he ground upward, milking Obi-Wan for everything he had. Another spasm ripped through him and he let out a loud groan, body tightening and then relaxing as his orgasm rushed through him. Again and again he spilled as Obi-Wan continued to push into him as he too rode through his own pleasures, little grunts and words of praise spilling from his lips as he filled Anakin up.

Once done Anakin collapsed back on the desk. His entire body felt like jello as the afterglow sunk in, relaxing him until he thought he’d slip off the desk and melt into the carpet. He tried to hold on to Obi-Wan but was denied the simple pleasure as Obi-Wan pulled out, his cock slipping from Anakin. But as soon as Anakin was about to complain Obi-Wan dropped down to his knees, and Anakin felt his tongue slide along his sensitive, puffy hole. Anakin let out another moan and bit his knuckles as Obi-Wan began licking him open, cleaning him up with broad strokes of his tongue and the soft suction of his lips. Anakin relished in the sensation of Obi-Wan’s tongue on him and the soft sounds he was making, little groans mixed with the lap of his tongue and the huff of his breath as he ate his own come from Anakin’s loose hole.

But soon this too ended, and Anakin opened his eyes to see Obi-Wan stood over top of him. Dropping his legs down, Anakin lay like a limp fish on Obi-Wan’s desk, trying to catch his breath.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hullo,” Obi-Wan mumbled. He pet Anakin’s thighs.

Sitting up Anakin groaned as his afterglow gave way to the familiar ache of muscle and bone. He sighed as Obi-Wan collected him into a hug, and rested his chin on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“Thank you for lunch,” Obi-Wan said, voice soft along Anakin’s temple, his hands soothing as he stroked his back.

Anakin snorted and pressed his face against Obi-Wan’s neck. “Anytime.”

#obikin #star wars fanfiction #lemon fanfiction #lemon does kinktober 2024

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