It had been a long week for you, college was wearing you down. To blow off some steam, you decide to hang out at your friend's house. Spending the night, just relaxing, watching some movies, and probably raiding the pantry. The plan seemed simple enough—that was until you met your friend's dad for the first time.

There he was, standing in the garage. Working on his motorcycle. His sleeves rolled up, revealing his muscular, tatted arms. The thin fabric of his tight-fitting tank top clinging to the sweat on his skin. Just the sight of him was enough to make your knees give out from under you.

His eyes glance up from what he’s working on, catching sight of you standing in the doorway. He wipes his greasy hands on a towel hung from his belt, an intimidating look etched across his face.

“And who might you be, doll face?" He takes a moment to take you in. He was amused by your clearly frazzled form. “A friend of my son’s?”