#[ and then there's a pic of how the note will look like ]

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 8

Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.  WC: 5.5k TW: I will put them below the cut for those who want to avoid spoilers. This is more of an original character, there have been some descriptions of reader throughout the series. A/N: How can I make a note when I have words?! I'm just so grateful for how many people have fallen in love with this story this year. It's crazy to me that I posted my first fan pic on December 23rd 2023, expecting about 3 people to see it and waking up to 100's of notifications. 2024 has literally been whirlwind, I've made so many wonderful ladies here and have grown more and more confident in my writing abilities. Thank you @lotusbxtch for being my forever beta for this series (probably an unhealthy crutch, but so be it haha). Thank you @for-a-longlongtime for letting me bounce ideas off of you and giving me a new insight to how sweet girl or Joel would think. @mermaidgirl30, @alltheirdamn and @littlevenicebitch69, what would I do if I couldn't scream about this story with you?! Ok eww, I'm done being sappy. Enjoy! Dividers and headers by @saradika-graphics

My Masterlist || Series Masterlist

TW: use of sex toys (vibrator and butt plug)

You

When you walked into your small apartment on Sunday, Odette was wrapped up in a blanket watching TV. She looked you up and down with a knowing smirk. It was pretty obvious based on the way Joel’s sweats and hoodie hung off your body that you were with a man all weekend. So, after she agreed to keep it between the two of you, you told her absolutely everything. It was freeing to finally be able to discuss Joel with one of your friends. The two of you spent almost six hours going over every detail of the last few weeks, and after ordering pizza and splitting a bottle of rosé, you had all the validation you needed. He loves you. And you love him, too. 

As the weekend rolls into the week, you still have not come down from your happy, little Joel Miller-shaped cloud. There’s not a single doubt in your mind that he is it. You have never let your walls down with someone like you have with him. It was always easier to just do it on your own; you could always count on yourself.  For the first time in your life, you can confidently say that you’re ready to let that go. It’s time for you to let someone take care of you for once. When he texts you on Monday to make plans for the following day, you decide that you’re going to tell him how you feel.

When Tuesday finally comes around, you practically skip up to his house. You have a duffle bag of items in one hand: your outfit for this evening, make up, and a change of clothes in case you spend the night. Wearing his clothing home was fun and all, but you won’t be doing any sort of walks of shame again. Clasped tightly your other hand is your company-provided caddy full of cleaning supplies. Just as you’re about to place the supplies on the front step, the large front door opens.

“Hi, Freckles,” Joel's voice coats every inch of your skin in warm honey. He shines an absolutely knee-weakening smile down at you. As per his usual JMKink attire, he’s in perfectly fitted black dress pants, expensive looking black dress shoes, and a pressed, crisp white dress shirt. The sleeves are rolled to his elbows and your mouth waters at the way his bare forearms look.  

“Hi,” you beam up at him, not holding back your ear-to-ear grin as you glow under his attention. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here!”

“I have to leave soon, but I have something for you.” He steps out onto the front steps and grabs everything from you before you follow him inside. You change into the white keds that Jamie gave you on your first day at Maid Discreetly before heading towards where he’s standing in the kitchen. There are three boxes on the kitchen island; two small black ones and one white one that you recognize immediately. He pushes that one towards you first. 

“This is your new iPhone,” he says with a wink and you feel your cheeks flush.

“Thank you,” you say shyly.

He shakes his head, “No, thank you for not fighting me on this. That cracked screen...”

“I know,” you say, raising a hand to stop him. You deepen your voice, “It’s a hazard, sweet girl.”

He laughs like he did that night at the Shibari class, deep and from his gut; it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard and your heart swells at the possibility of getting to hear that laugh for the rest of your life. “Exactly. These other boxes…well, they’re for you, but also for me.”

You raise your eyebrows curiously as he slides the smaller of the two black boxes across the smooth marble of the island. His bottom lip slips between his teeth as you pull the top off of the first box. Sitting on a bed of white tissue paper is a small metal plug with a pink heart-shaped diamond on the end. 

“Mister Miller! Scandalous!” You gasp, feigning shock and surprise.

He laughs again as he asks, “Is that ok?”

“Very much so,” you respond with a smile before opening the next box, which is slightly bigger than the last. A black, U shaped piece of silicone sits in the box, along with a small plastic rectangle that looks similar to a key fob. “What’s this?”

“That, my sweet girl, is a remote vibrator. I was thinking that maybe you could wear both of those while you clean my house today. I can control that with the remote from a close distance or from my phone anywhere in the world.” 

Every hair on your body stands on end as your clit throbs in excitement. “Yes, I would really, really like to do that!”

“Good girl,” he says with a wink, holding a hand out to you. His fingers link with yours and just the slightest touch from him sends sparks up your wrist and straight to your racing heart. He grabs your new toys and leads you up the stairs. Your giggle is laced with arousal when you come to a stop in his enormous ensuite. After placing the toys on the counter he pulls you in, his free hand cupping the back of your neck before he slams his lips into yours. He kisses you hungrily, and you meet his energy, kissing him back as if you’re drunk with passion. His teeth nip your bottom lip as he pulls away. You’re so insanely, maddeningly in love with this man that you almost forget how to stand as he steps back.

“Take off your pants, sweet girl.”

You do as he says, eagerly unbuttoning your company issued black dress pants before sliding them down your legs. He stops you before you remove your thong, breathing out a heady ‘fuck’ before hooking his thumbs through the bright pink lacy waist band and sliding them down your legs. 

“Put your hands on the vanity and bend over for me,” he instructs with bated breath. He watches your reflection in the mirror, looking right into your soul as always, as you follow his instructions.  

You smile lovingly at him, clocking the way his throat works as he swallows hard at the sight of you bending at the waist, pushing your ass out for him. “Fuck, how did I get so lucky? All of this, just for me?”

“Just you, Joel,” you breathe, slipping your bottom lip between your teeth. 

He slides open a drawer and takes out two small bottles before turning on the water. He pops the top of one bottle, using the contents to wash both toys, then steps back behind you with the second bottle in and the plug in his hands. A warm laugh leaves your lips, “Always so prepared, Mister Miller.”

“With a pretty little thing like you in my life, I better be.” He clicks the top of the lube open as he continues, “Ready? I’ll go slow.”

“Mm-hm, I’ll tell you if it’s too much,” you coo, your body thrumming with the anticipation of his touch. 

“I know you will. No safeword right now, okay? Just say stop, and I will.” He spreads the lube around your tight ring of muscle with his thumb. Every muscle in your body goes slack under his attention and you sigh as your lashes flutter against your cheeks. “Good girl, just relax for me.”

After a few minutes of teasing you with the pad of his thumb he switches to the plug. The cold metal makes you jump. He reassures you by squeezing your hip as he murmurs, “You’re ok, baby.”

He swirls it gently at first, slowly applying more and more pressure before it slips in on its own and you whimper at the feeling. “Does that feel okay, sweet girl?”

“Mmm, yes,” you smile at his reflection in front of you. The amber glow of the LED lighting behind the mirror accentuates the honey flecks in his eyes. Everything about the way he’s looking at you feels overwhelming. It’s like when you first step foot into a hot tub on a cold winter's night. The sting of the swirling water is almost too hot as you sink further in. For a second you consider getting out, but then every single cell in your body adjusts and you can’t imagine not being wrapped in that heat.

“Now this one,” he says, holding up the black u-shaped vibrator. He adds a bit of lube and then guides your hips further back with one hand before kneeling. Your pussy clenches against nothing as you glance over your shoulder seeing him on his knees behind you. He practically whimpers, “God, Freckles, this pussy. She’s so gorgeous.”

A shy smile turns your lips upward. Joel starts to work the toy inside of you and you gasp out a moan. He moves the bulbous head of the toy back and forth until it slips in on its own accord, just like the plug did. Your breathing quickens at the pressure on your g-spot and clit; the toy isn’t even on yet and it already feels so good. Joel’s lips sponge against the globes of your ass, then your hip as he stands. “Are you ok, sweet girl?”

“Yes, Mister Miller,” you respond, your breath catching in your throat as you stand. 

“Good. Now put your clothes back on and get to work.”

Before you can bend to pick up your discarded clothing, he pulls you into his arms and brings his lips to yours. The kiss is so soft that it steals your breath, and you almost blurt your feelings for him right then and there. He keeps one arm wrapped tightly around your waist while the other snakes up your body until his large palm cups the side of your face. This kiss, compared to the one from earlier, is different in every way. Where that one was rough and passionate, this one is gentle and almost lazy; a content moan rumbles from his chest. Before pulling away, his warm tongue swipes sweetly across yours. 

 “See you later, honey,” he whispers, then kisses your forehead and walks away.

Honey, he called me honey. Everything about the last few seconds feels so goddamn domestic, and your potential life five years from now flashes through your mind. 

You're standing in this bathroom, getting ready to head to the law firm you work at. Joel, no longer just your dom but also now your new husband, puts a fresh latte on the counter for you, then helps you with the clasp of your necklace before kissing that sensitive spot behind your ear. ‘See you later, honey’.

The rev of Joel’s Jag pulling out of the garage snaps you out of your daydream. You get dressed and walk back downstairs while opening the Maid Discreetly app. To your surprise, cleaning Joel’s office isn’t the first task. Instead, you’ve been asked to wipe down the kitchen, then vacuum the main floor, stairs and upstairs rooms, and finish off by dusting his bedroom. All of it seems very doable in the next four hours, and just when you think you’ll probably be done early and have time to properly get ready for your night out, Mister Miller reminds you that he has the remote to a very distracting detonator. 

The first few times the vibrator comes on it’s subtle, just a light buzzing against your clit. It’s enjoyable, almost like a tickling massage, but after almost an hour and half of being gently teased at random you can feel your frustrations start to reach a boiling point.

You: Mister Miller, you’re torturing me Joel: Oh, sweet girl. We’ve only just begun. You: *pouts* Joel: That’s not going to get you what you want. Be a good girl and get back to work. I have a meeting. 

You check off the kitchen and main floor tasks and then move to the stairs. You decide to start at the top, sitting on the stair below it and scoot down to save your back. You’re also hoping that the pressure on the toy will make it strong enough that you can finally come. Joel turns the vibrator on again and you whine out in frustration when your plan fails. The slight hum against your clit stops and you mutter something about Joel being a sadistic bastard under your breath and continue your backwards ride down the stairs. As you reach the halfway point the vibrator comes to life at an intensity so strong that you drop the hose of the vacuum and dig your nails into the plush carpet of the stair tread. 

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, squeezeing your legs together as he brings you right to the edge. Your orgasm builds quickly, and just as it’s about to take you, the vibrations stop. 

Joel: You better not have come You: Please, Mister Miller. I was so close Joel: Not yet, babygirl  

Joel continues this throughout the afternoon. Every ten minutes or so, the black u-shaped torture device inside of you comes to life; always at different intensities and for varying times. 

Torture device might be a bit strong, the discarded box of feelings says from the back of your mind. We both know you’re enjoying it. You don’t know when she decided to come back, but at least she’s keeping you honest. 

It’s been about three hours by the time you get to your last task of the day. The vibrator buzzes gently as you grab a duster and head into Joel's bedroom. You bite back a smile seeing his bed, the white fluffy sheets neatly tucked in. You can’t help but run your fingers across the soft duvet, remembering how it felt against your skin, remembering how he felt above, behind, below and beside your naked body.

Joel: You doing ok? Do you need to use your safeword? You: I’m okay, Mister Miller. I REALLY need to come, but this is the best day I’ve ever had at work.

When 3:30pm hits, you’ve finished everything in the app, and are so wound up from being teased that you’re fighting from taking the vibrator out and making yourself come. Everytime the vibrator comes on, you break out in goosebumps, the hair on your body standing on end, but when he turns it off, your cheeks flush in frustration and a wave of heat rolls through you. You know Joel will take care of you when he gets home and sees how badly you need it. He talks a big game, but you see the way he folds when you beg. 

Joel: I’ll be home in about 40 minutes, Tommy won’t shut up about concrete. You: I need to come so badly, Mister Miller. I’m throbbing, please!  Joel: Soon. Just breathe, sweet girl. You can do this. 

You need to distract yourself, and you know Joel’s office usually gets pretty dusty, so even though it’s not on your list, you grab your cleaning supplies and slowly open the door. It’s as it usually is: small piles of papers on the desk and a few things out of place on the book shelf. You put the books back and dust the shelves, then run the duster over the blinds before cleaning the window.

Joel: Goddamn, he’s still going on about fucking concrete. How’s my baby doin? You: Horny, I’m trying to distract myself

The vibrator comes to life at the lowest setting. Once again, it’s not enough to make you come, just enough to tease and taunt. You could cry at the frustration of it. 

You: That’s not helping, Mister Miller Joel: What’s not? You: Hilarious. Please? Joel: Nope. I love watching you come, hearing the whiny little gasps you make, so not until later

You move towards the desk. Just as you reach to tidy the stack of papers, the vibrations against your clit hit at an intensity you haven’t felt yet today. You fall forward, gasping for breath, as the papers scatter to the floor. You’re about to fall into the pleasure, feel those waves of nirvana that you so desperately need when the vibrator turns off and you’re left with nothing. You bite back an agitated yell. 

Joel: See you in less than half an hour, sweet girl. You better not have come.  You: I didn’t. I promise. 

You’ve never read anything on Joel’s desk before, but you notice a familiar emblem on the first piece of paper you pick up. It’s a short, handwritten note, and as your eyes scan the few sentences, your heart leaps into your throat as your stomach simultaneously falls to the floor. You read through it once and then twice, trying to make sense of the information in front of you. After blinking hard a few times, you read it again. 

You feel like you’re being ripped in two. 

Joel, Thank you for your generous (and anonymous) donation to the law library. I’ll be sure to find her application and review it myself. See you at the club's anniversary party in a few weeks.

You flip the note over and back again, reading it through one last time. It’s not signed by anyone, just black ink on eggshell white, the University of Austin letterhead at the top. The letter and the room start to spin. You stumble towards his desk chair and breathe through the wave of nausea that hits you; your mind reels at what you’ve just learned. Anger, disbelief and sadness all push against your prefrontal cortex, fighting to be the winning emotion. You want it to be anger – anger is so much easier to deal with. Yelling and telling Joel to fuck off would make you feel so much better, but overwhelming sadness and disappointment ultimately become the victors. 

He doesn’t believe in me.

The realization feels like knives along your skin. Everything he said about how you could do it, or that you’d get in…that was all bullshit. He paid for you to get in, and then – and this is the part that hurts the most – he made you believe that you did it all on your own. Your lungs feel like they’re filled with glass as you force yourself to take slow, controlled breaths. 

He doesn’t believe in me.

Tears prickle behind your eyes but you force them back. You will not cry, not when you’ve been through this before and came out stronger. Your parents didn’t believe in you, and you proved them wrong, graduating early and making it on your own in Texas for the last four years.

I can prove Joel wrong, too.

You shut your eyes tight. You don’t need him; you don’t need anyone. But if that’s true, why does his sexy smirk flash behind your eyelids? The glass moves from your lungs to your veins; everything hurts, and you scold yourself for letting him get this intertwined in you. 

Never again, you tell yourself. Stick to your plan. Law school. Get in with a good firm, pass the bar and become partner; then worry about a love life. 

You walk to his bedroom, removing the toys and cleaning them off before changing into the black leggings and beige crew neck sweater you brought. You gather your hair into a claw clip and head downstairs. With your bag by the door and the letter still clutched in your hand you lean back against the kitchen island and wait for Joel. 

He doesn’t believe in me. 

Joel

The drive home feels like it takes forever; granted, Tommy talking about fucking concrete for almost an hour felt longer. At dinner tonight, he’s going to explain from the beginning. He prepares himself for the worst, for your anger or hurt. He won’t be able to live with himself if he’s hurt you, but anger he can deal with. He knows it’s selfish, but you yelling at him over this would make him feel better. 

Finally, he turns into his neighborhood. The sight of your slightly rusty SUV parked on the street spreads a familiar warmth from his heart to his toes. Mine, he thinks to himself as he pulls into his garage. He knows you’re going to be so tightly wound from all the teasing you endured today, and he plans to very slowly unwind you before you go for dinner. The way you fall apart for him is so beautiful, and after almost four hours of being brought to the edge over and over again, he can’t wait to have your writhing and shaking with a simple flick of his tongue against your clit. But first, he’s going to kiss every inch of your skin while occasionally clicking the vibrator on at its lowest setting. He almost trips over your bag as he comes into the house, and when his eyes meet yours, he knows something is wrong.  

“Baby?” His voice cracks in concern at the look on your face. He mentally runs through the rolodex of facial expressions he’s seen from you, and he hates that he can’t place this one; it’s not anger or sadness, and it most definitely is not excitement or curiosity. Your soft lips are turned down in the corners, arms crossed and eyes soft. “What’s wrong?”

Your arms uncross and you hold out the letter he should have shredded weeks ago.

His stomach does a free fall. Disappointment. The look on your face is disappointment, and that is so much worse than anger or sadness. 

Fuck. 

You

Joel walks towards you with slow, measured steps while carding a nervous hand through his curls. You force yourself to continue breathing, fighting against the tears that threaten to appear. He takes the letter from you and rips it in half; you drop your eyes, watching as the two halves of paper flutter to the ground and then slide away from each other along the marble. You shake your head at the symbolism of it, hugging your arms tightly against your body again.

“I thought you believed in me,” you say, trying not to sound as gutted as you feel. 

“I do, sweet girl,” he says, stepping so close that his black leather dress shoes line up with your socked feet. You look up as he continues, “I swear I do. You - you got in on your own. Please, just let me explain.”

His eyes line with tears and moments that you overlooked over the last few weeks playback like a movie. The first day in this kitchen he said he knew the dean of admissions. The flash of anger when you went to the Shibari night and his response of “all of them?” when you said you didn’t get in. The way he insisted you open the letters before the anniversary party. He knew, he fucking knew all along that at least one university would accept you. Dread settles in your stomach, turning the shards of glass under your skin to icicles. Berkeley.

“Did you pay off Berkeley, too?”

“I didn’t pay anyone off.” He’s calm but firm in his response, which just seems to piss you off more. 

You roll your eyes, gesturing to the ripped paper on the floor and scoff. “Did you pay off Berkeley, Joel?”

The two of you stare at each other for a few heartbeats, and you don’t back down as more tears gather along his bottom lash line. He shakes his head in defeat, burying his hands in his pockets and breathing slowly a few times before whispering, “No.”

“Why would you do this to me? This could have ruined my entire career.” You try to keep your voice calm, but how dare he stand in front of you holding back tears. 

“I’m sorry, sweet girl. I wasn’t - I just…I’m sorry,” he flounders.

“Why, Joel?” Your eyes dance along his face. You aren’t sure what justification you're looking for or hoping for. The dream of staying here died the moment you picked up that note, but you can’t go to California without knowing why he did it. 

He opens his mouth, shaking his head slightly and then closes his mouth. He takes a deep breath through his nose, blinking away the tears. “Because I don’t want to lose you, Freckles. I should have told you, I was going to tell you tonight. That donation isn’t the reason you got in…you did that on your own. I just…well, I just sped up the process. And I’m so sorry you found out like this.”

You scoff again. “I thought my consent was the most important thing to you.”

His eyes widened in shock. “It is, sweet girl.”

“I didn’t ask you to meddle in my life, Joel. And I certainly didn’t ask you to speed along the process. What happens if I become a Supreme Court judge and someone finds out that you bribed a university to get me?” He goes to speak, but you raise a hand to stop him and continue. “And don’t tell me that you didn’t bribe anyone, because that’s exactly how this looks and you know it. You wouldn’t be looking at me like a guilty puppy if you thought what you did was right.”

His hands come to cup your face. The warm coffee eyes that usually dance rhythmically around your face are replaced by shifting dark glass beads laced with fear and loss. The warmth you normally feel when he touches you is gone. His eyes flick to your lips and then back to your eyes before he speaks. 

“Freckles, I lov-”

Your still raised hand covers his mouth, clamping tightly to his face to stop him. 

“Please don’t,” you whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat and keeping your palm pressed to his soft lips. Your heart pounds behind your ribs in response to what he was about to confess. If he tells you what you so desperately wanted to hear just hours ago, you know you’ll crumble. You’ll let him take you up to his bedroom and apologize in a way that only he can. You’ll spend the night planning how you can do long distance while you’re in California. You’ll let him interfere with the plan���again.

“Don’t say that to me right now, I can’t hear that.”

He nods into your hand slowly, his eyes soften, and you try to memorize every bit of amber in his otherwise black brown eyes. This will be the last time he looks at you like this, and the realization seems to suck the air out of the room. You wish you could bottle up how it makes you feel when he looks at you like that; the way it comforts you and shuts off the narrated to do list in your mind that’s always growing in your mind. 

“Joel, if…if you feel that way, then you’ll let me go,” you tell him, voice just above a whisper. He lets out a shaky breath through his nose, the heat of it warming your hand. One of his hands leaves your face to wrap around your wrist, but he doesn’t pull your hand away or step back out of your grip. Instead, he runs his thumb in small circles along the soft, smooth skin there, and you swear you can feel the whorls of his thumb tattooing themself on you, trying desperately to stay with you forever. 

“You’ll understand why I have to go to Berkeley now,” you continue. “I have been working so hard for this. And for years, I have been doing it all on my own. I’m so close, Joel…so close to finishing what I started when I was, like, seven years old. So, please, I’m begging you…please do not finish that sentence.”

You drop your hand from his mouth, his grip going weak as he lets you slip out of his grasp. He looks small, almost deflated in front of you as he stumbles back a few steps. The silence between the two of you feels heavy. 

It’s over. Whatever this was, or could be, is over, and you both know it. 

When he finally speaks, it’s a sad whisper. “What about when you’re done?”

“A lot can change in three years, Joel,” you respond, mostly to extinguish the flicker of hope in your chest. It’s better for you to push him away now than to hope that he’ll be there when you graduate. No one has ever been there for you, and this is proving to be no different. You step around him and head to the front door, biting down hard on the inside of your cheek as the tears threaten to reappear while you get your shoes on. 

“Freckles, wait.”

You close your eyes, facing the door with your hand on the matte black knob. His dress shoes click on the shiny marble before his large hand comes to rest on the door beside your head. This is the exact position you were in after accidentally catching him in his office. You keep your eyes glued to the door and after a sniffle, a quiet clearing of his throat and a whispered, heartbreaking ‘fuck’, he continues. 

“I really am sorry,” he says, his voice hoarse. “This is not how I wanted this to go, but you know what you need and I respect your choice. These last few weeks have been so much more than I could have imagined, more than I deserve. You have brought me back, sweet girl. I know you probably don’t believe a word of what I’ve said tonight, and that’s ok, but with you, I felt that pull that I’ve been waiting for. I felt it the minute your cleaning caddy fell to the ground and I locked eyes with you. If you were anyone else, I would have let you run out of here and then had you fired. I chased you and I’ve been chasing you ever since, even though I know you are meant for more and that this could only ever be temporary for you. This was always going to be the end for me and a well-deserved, hard-earned beginning for you.”

He takes a shaky breath in and you open your eyes, but you don’t look back at him. “Regardless of all that, I meant what I said in my office that day. Starting this with you would be it for me. A lot can change for you in three years, and I want you to experience everything in California. But for me, it’s you. It will always be you.”

Your chest feels like it’s going to cave and your knees threaten to buckle. “I have to go, Joel,” you grit out, forcing your voice past the boulder that’s formed in your throat.

“I know, and I’m so proud of you, sweet girl,” he whispers, dropping his hand and stepping back. The heat of his broad body and leather-and-ash scent disappear from behind you, and it feels like you’ve been plunged into freezing, uncharted waters. 

You get in your car and drive, unsure of where your final destination will be. After driving around Austin for a while, you find yourself parking outside of the Maid Discreetly office. You take a minute, deciding what you are and aren’t going to tell your best friend before heading in. Jamie’s office is impeccable as always, not a single smudge on the glass desk as she types on her laptop, looking effortlessly perfect.  

“Hey, babe!” she says with a smile as you cross the threshold.

“How’s your dad doing with the California office?” you say, trying to act casual.

“Oh my god!” she practically shrieks as she jumps up from her chair. “Did you get into Berkeley?”

“That depends,” you say, raising one shoulder. “Does he have a job for me there?”

“Holy shit!” She runs around the desk and wraps you in her arms. How she can move like that in stilettos is beyond you.

“Careful, you’re gonna break an ankle,” you deadpan. The weight of what just happened with Joel almost dissipates. Jamie pulls back to look at you, her eyes scan your face and you feel exposed.

“Why aren’t you more excited? What’s wrong?”

Shit. 

A sob leaves your throat and you collapse into Jamie’s open arms. She pulls you into her office with one arm and closes her door with the other, then leads you to the couch along the far wall. As soon as she gets you seated, you manage to explain everything between sobs and very unattractive nose blowing.

This is supposed to be one of those exciting moments of your life. You did it: you got into the school you always dreamed of and you're moving to California; a place you always felt most at ease in. Yet, it’s all clouded over by having your heart wholly shattered by a man that you actually thought was going to be the love of your life. Someone who showed you he cared, showed you that he’d always be there. 

But it was all a lie. 

[swhore]

ㅤ　　 ⊹　　⟡͡　　The Perfect ℳess‎ ‎ 　　︵

　　　　　　　　　　　　　by swhore　　

though the term ''mess'' is always associated with negativity, what if you romanticize said imperfection. whether it's clumpy mascara or that one pile of homework you're procrastinating, there's a kind of art to it. it's perfect yet imperfect. it makes you feel alive.

　

　

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𝜗　　❀　　comment joining alongside a scale from 1/10 of how messy u are

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𝜗　　❀　　find a pic from this and center your mb around it. though keep in mind you're free to choose a different picture outside of the pin board. however just taking a look at it should give you a taste of what i mean by making a mess look visually appealing. the picture you choose has to be included in the moodboard.

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𝜗　　❀　　deadline is jan. 27

𝜗　　✿　　no copying or taking heavy inspo from a moodboard

𝜗　　❀　　your moodboard must contain a picture that's ''messy''

　a messy picture is classified as imperfect, not visually attractive, overcrowded

𝜗　　✿　　must be 90% made by you, using divs or locs from smbdy else is ok

𝜗　　❀　　extensions are allowed, just dm me

　　　છ ۫　　　｡　　　　໒　　　　℘rizes

　

🥇 　𓏵　　271 rbx, 150 reblogs on a mb of choice, 3 custom moodboards and 3 fgs + dividers/headers

🥈 　𓏵　　200 rbx, 100 reblogs on a mb of choice, 2 custom moodboards and 2 fgs + dividers/headers

🥈 　𓏵　　 128 rbx, 75 reblogs on a mb of choice, 1 custom moodboard and 1 fg + divider/header

　

♥︎　　runner ups: 　40 reblogs on a mb of choice and 1 fg/divider/header

♥︎　　57+ more robux thanks to @kiyeuo

♥︎　　10 reblogs upon entry

　　　　　　　　　prizes are negotiable.

　　　　　　　<12 entries = reduced prizes

⬆️　 inspired by anitalenia's divider

tags (sorry, u do not have to join if not wanted)

@cg1rl , @chaeryeos , @amouriu , @dollfacedb1tch , @awwriri , @lilaquette , @daddldee , @nikist-4-n , @flutterdashes , @cereskies , @florescita , @n-americano , @wonysmiu , @sugarish , @y-vna , @lvioung + more moots

NOTE : if this flops (getting under 12 entries = the prizes will be reduced by 30%). also if u dont play roblox, the prizes are always negotiable so u can ask for something else instead of robux.

[jzprncess]

radio check, babe

Pairing: Lando Norris x Y/N reader

oneshot

Word count: 2,853

Summary : Y/N L/N, a decorated Air Force pilot and certified badass, has been juggling fighter jets and a long-distance relationship with McLaren’s golden boy, Lando Norris. After months away on deployment—and being totally MIA from the F1 paddock—she’s finally back just in time for the season finale in Abu Dhabi. But Y/N isn’t about to make a quiet comeback. With Lando chasing victory and McLaren on the verge of clinching the Constructors' Championship, she plans the ultimate surprise. During the final lap, her voice cuts through the team radio, reminding Lando she’s always been in his corner. Cue the waterworks, the feels, and an epic reunion that’s part racing history, part love story.

Note: i kinda had inspiration for this one and its also good that i at least dropped something with lando after saying i was going to and then scrap the whole thing lol. this was a request!

⋆⭒˚｡⋆✈︎

The jet engines were still buzzing in her ears as Y/N stepped off the plane, her duffel bag casually thrown over her shoulder. After months of being deployed, the hot desert air in Abu Dhabi hit her like a wave of nostalgia. She’d flown all over the world in her Air Force career, but this time felt different. She wasn’t just another pilot on a mission—she was back, or at least as close as she could get without being wrapped up in Lando’s arms.

Her fingers gripped the strap of her bag a little tighter as she walked through the airport, shades on to hide from the curious stares around her. The last time she was in Abu Dhabi, it was to cheer Lando on, to laugh at pit stop fails and celebrate team wins with him. But now? She wasn’t a WAG on the sidelines anymore. She was someone who’d spent way too many nights staring at the stars, hoping Lando was looking up at the same sky.

McLaren had kept her surprise on the down low, helping her set up the ultimate "gotcha" moment. The plan was simple but meaningful: wait for the right time on Sunday to make her presence known. It’d be just one voice on the radio, but she hoped it’d be enough to remind Lando of how much she believed in him, loved him, and was so proud of him.

The world saw him as F1’s next big thing, but to her, he was still the guy who let her braid his hair for fun, the one who sent her sunset pics when they were apart, and the dude who always told her he loved her, even when things were tough.

As she pulled up to the hotel, the reality of actually seeing him hit hard. She wasn’t just about to surprise her boyfriend—she was walking back into a world that had missed her as much as she’d missed it. But for now? She needed to stay focused. Lando had no idea she was even in Abu Dhabi, and she was gonna keep it that way until race day.

Y/N checked into her hotel room and tossed her duffel bag on the bed, her heart racing as she unpacked the essentials. There was still time before the race weekend, but every moment felt like it was slipping through her fingers. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out, half-expecting a message from Lando. But instead, it was a text from McLaren’s PR team, confirming all the last-minute details of her plan.

She couldn’t help but smile, knowing she was about to pull off something that would be talked about for years.

Her fingers hovered over the screen as she typed a quick reply, making sure everything was set for race day. There was no going back now—she was in Abu Dhabi, and she was going to make sure Lando never forgot this moment.

The next few days blurred into a whirlwind of meetings, press events, and quiet moments spent reflecting on what she was about to do. She was used to the adrenaline of fighter jets, the precise timing of military operations, but nothing compared to the quiet anxiety that settled in her chest every time she thought about race day.

When Sunday finally arrived, Y/N was up before dawn, dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, trying to stay as low-key as possible. The McLaren team had kept her out of sight—no one could know she was here until the moment was right. She walked into the paddock with purpose, her sunglasses hiding her face as she weaved through the busy atmosphere. It felt strange to be back. This world, so familiar, yet so different now.

By the time the race started, her nerves were a distant memory. Lando had been doing what he did best all weekend—smashing lap times, staying focused, and keeping his eye on the prize. McLaren was on the verge of clinching the Constructors' Championship, and Lando’s drive was relentless. She couldn’t help but watch him on the track, her heart swelling with pride. He was so close.

And then came the final lap.

Y/N stood behind the curtain, the crowd’s roar fading as her heart pounded in her chest. She could hear the comms chatter, the calm voices of the team, but it was the moment she’d been waiting for.

"Alright, Lando, last lap, mate," the engineer’s voice crackled over the radio.

And then, just as Lando approached the final sector, Y/N’s voice—quiet but unmistakable—cut through the static.

“Hey, Lando… just wanted to remind you—I’ve always got your six.”

A beat of silence, then a stunned pause from the team. Y/N held her breath, praying he would hear her. And then, she heard it.

"Lando? Did you—? Wait, is that Y/N?"

It was his voice, full of disbelief, followed by a soft, emotional chuckle that made her knees weak.

She smiled to herself, knowing the surprise had landed.

"Focus, mate!" the engineer quickly snapped, but it was clear that the moment had shifted. The tension on the radio had softened, and for a moment, it felt like time had stopped.

Lando was racing for victory, the team was on the edge of a championship, but in that one instant, it was just the two of them, connected by words, by love, by everything they had been through together.

With the finish line in sight, Y/N knew the moment was almost here. She turned to the screen, As the checkered flag waved, Lando crossed the finish line, securing McLaren’s first Constructors' Championship in years. The crowd erupted in applause, the sound of a distant hum in Y/N's ears as she stood frozen for a split second. Her eyes never left the screen, watching Lando’s car coast to a stop, his victory becoming real in that very moment.

Her heart raced, adrenaline coursing through her veins. It wasn’t just a win for McLaren—it was a win for him. For them.

She could hear the team celebrating on the radio, but it wasn’t until the team principal’s voice came through that she snapped back into reality.

"Congratulations, Lando," he said, his tone warm but professional. "And... Y/N, welcome home."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. The team had kept her arrival a secret, but now that Lando knew she was there, she felt the weight of that moment. Lando’s voice crackled through the comms once more, but it was different now—full of emotion, disbelief, and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

"Y/N, wait, you—are you really here?" Lando asked, his voice cracking slightly, a mix of shock and relief.

She could hear the sound of his heartbeat in his words, the rush of everything he was feeling in the moment. The realization that they had both made it through the distance, the loneliness, and the uncertainties. That they were finally here, together again.

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling the world shift around her as she stepped forward, her voice steady but filled with love.

"Yeah, I’m here. I’ve got your six, always. I’m so proud of you, Babe."

There was a long pause before she heard him again, softer this time, as if trying to process everything at once. "You’re killing me, you know that? You—always—know how to make this moment so much better."

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away, her focus on what was coming next. The sound of the celebration in the background started to feel distant as she pushed forward, walking through the corridors of the paddock, heading toward the podium where Lando was waiting.

This wasn’t just about a race win. It was about them. It was about every sleepless night, every text and call, every moment of longing and hope. It was about finding each other again in the chaos of their separate worlds, and now, here they were. Standing on the precipice of a future that was just beginning to unfold.

And as she finally walked out into the paddock, the sight of Lando waiting for her, a grin plastered across his face, was all she needed. The noise of the crowd, the chaos of the celebrations, all of it faded into the background as she locked eyes with him. In that moment, nothing else existed but him, standing there, looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered.

Lando’s grin softened into something more intimate as he closed the distance between them. His eyes were filled with emotion—surprise, relief, joy—and there was a rawness in his expression that made her heart ache.

Without saying a word, he pulled her into a tight hug, lifting her off her feet as if he couldn’t believe she was really there. Y/N laughed softly, wrapping her arms around him, the warmth of his embrace feeling like the home she’d been craving for months. His scent, the familiarity of his touch, it all felt like the missing piece she hadn’t even realized she was searching for.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Lando muttered against her hair, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve been thinking about you every damn day, and now... this? This is unreal.”

Y/N pulled back slightly, her hands gently cupping his face as she looked up at him, her heart in her throat. “I’ve always been here, Lando. Always. Even when we were apart, I was right there with you. You know that, right?”

His hands came to rest on her waist, and he nodded, his forehead resting against hers for a moment as they shared the quiet intimacy of the moment. The rest of the world could wait. Right now, it was just the two of them.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “And I felt it. Every second. It’s been the hardest thing, being away from you... but this”—he gestured around to the celebrations, the team, the whole paddock—“this doesn’t even compare to how much I needed you here with me.”

Y/N smiled softly, her thumb tracing the outline of his lips, the weight of his words sinking in. She could feel the emotions bubbling up again, tears threatening to spill, but she held them back. This wasn’t the time for tears—it was a time for celebration, for love, for them.

“You’re my champion, Lan,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the distant sounds of victory. “And I’m so damn proud of you.”

His eyes shone with a mixture of gratitude and something deeper—something that made her chest tighten. Lando reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch gentle, reverent, like he was afraid she might disappear if he wasn’t careful.

“You have no idea how much that means,” he said, his voice steady but filled with so much love that it nearly took her breath away. “I wouldn’t be here without you. You’ve always had my back, and now... we get to share this.”

Y/N laughed softly, her heart swelling with a love so intense it almost felt like a dream. “We’ve got a lot more to share, Lovebug.”

He leaned in then, closing the small gap between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was soft at first, a moment of quiet connection. But then, the kiss deepened, filled with everything they had missed—the longing, the passion, the promise of a future finally shared. The sound of cheers in the background faded into nothingness as they stood there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside their little bubble irrelevant.

When they finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Lando gave her a playful look. “So, uh... you want to join me for the podium celebration? I think there’s a spot for you next to me.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “I think the podium got enough glory for one person today, don’t you think?”

Lando grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Guess we’ll have to share it, then.”

They made their way through the paddock, hand in hand, a quiet smile shared between them as they entered the chaos of the victory celebration. The team was already gathered around, clapping and cheering, and as they stepped onto the podium together, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride for everything Lando had achieved. This wasn’t just his moment—it was theirs.

Lando leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “You’ve got me through the toughest parts, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Her heart swelled at his words, but she only smiled, squeezing his hand in response. “You’ll never have to find out.”

As the national anthem played and the champagne sprayed, Y/N stood beside him, feeling like the luckiest person in the world. She had come into this paddock as an outsider, but now, she was part of something bigger—a team, a family, and a love that had been tested but never broken.

When it was time for photos, Lando pulled her close, his arm wrapping around her waist as they posed together, his grin infectious as they both reveled in the moment. The photographers snapped away, capturing their smiles, their joy, and the unspoken connection between them. In that snapshot of time, nothing else mattered—just the two of them, standing side by side at the top of the world.

Afterward, the celebrations continued, but Y/N found herself lost in the quiet of the moment, content just to be there with him. As they made their way back to the garage, the weight of everything they had shared, everything they had overcome, settled around them like a comforting blanket.

Lando stopped, turning to her with a soft, sincere look. “You’ve made this the best day of my life, Y/N. I love you. Always.”

Y/N smiled, feeling her heart race once more. “I love you too, Lan. And I’ll always be here, cheering you on. No matter what.”

And as they stood there, surrounded by the noise of the team, the flashing lights of cameras, and the cheers of fans, everything felt surreal. The adrenaline from the race, the excitement of the win, the love between them—it all blended together in a whirlwind of emotion.

Y/N glanced at Lando, her heart full as she watched him interact with his team, his joy infectious. But through it all, he kept finding his way back to her, his eyes always coming to rest on hers, a silent promise between them.

The crowd around them grew more animated as the party shifted into full celebration mode, but Y/N and Lando took a step back, out of the limelight for a moment. Just the two of them, standing together in a quiet corner, sharing a peaceful moment amidst the chaos.

“I’m so proud of you,” Y/N said, her voice soft but full of meaning. "You’ve worked so hard for this, Lando. And I couldn’t be happier for you."

Lando smiled, his expression tender as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I couldn’t have done it without you. You’re the reason I keep going. You’re the reason I’m here.”

She shook her head, the words feeling too big for her to fully grasp. “No, Hun. You’ve always been incredible. I just... I just made sure you knew you weren’t alone.”

Lando’s gaze softened, and he took her hand, squeezing it gently. “We’re never alone. Not anymore.”

The sounds of the celebration grew distant as Y/N leaned into Lando, resting her head against his shoulder. They stood there for a while, lost in the comfort of each other’s presence, knowing this moment would be something they’d look back on forever.

As the night wore on and the team moved on to the next phase of the celebration, Lando turned to her with a playful grin. “So... what do you say we make our own little victory lap?”

Y/N laughed, her heart lifting as she looked up at him. “I’m all in for that.”

They left the party behind, walking hand in hand under the desert sky. The air was cool now, a stark contrast to the heat of the day, and the stars above twinkled like they were shining just for them.

For the first time in what felt like forever, everything was right. The distance, the time apart—it all felt like it had been leading up to this moment. A new chapter, one where they didn’t just survive the distance but thrived in it. And as they walked into the night together, Y/N knew that the road ahead wouldn’t always be easy, but as long as they were side by side, it would always be worth it.

“Here’s to us,” Lando said, his voice full of promise.

“Here’s to us,” Y/N echoed, squeezing his hand, and in that simple gesture, she knew they had both found exactly what they needed all along.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

taglist : @heluvsjappie @awritingtree @steamy-smokey

[jenosbliss]

hi, can i request 1, 8, 10 enemies to lovers with haechan pls?

pairing. gn!reader x haechan | genre. fluff, enemies to lovers | wc. 1.3k | warnings. none

a/n:: i’m in love with these pics… he looks so fluffy yet damn hot!

“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” you muttered, stepping over a protruding root as the dense forest seemed to close in around you.

Haechan groaned behind you, the crunch of leaves under his boots matching your growing irritation. “My idea? You’re the one who said, ‘Let’s go explore off the trail. It’ll be fun!’” He mimicked your voice in a singsong tone, which earned him a sharp glare over your shoulder.

“I didn’t mean ‘let’s get lost in the middle of nowhere,’” you snapped, brushing a low-hanging branch out of your face. “Well, congratulations,” he said, throwing his arms wide as if presenting the trees around him. “You’ve officially outdone yourself. This is a new low, even for you.”

You stopped, spinning on your heel to face him. “For me? You’re the one who got us turned around!”

“I got us turned around?” Haechan repeated, his tone dripping with disbelief. “You’re the one who insisted we’d find a shortcut.”

“To avoid listening to you complain for another hour!”

“Well, that backfired, didn’t it?”

“You are infuriating!” you snapped, throwing your hands in the air.

“And you’re dramatic,” he shot back, crossing his arms. “Seriously, I am fully convinced you never graduated kindergarten. Do you want me to explain how directions work with finger paints?” Your jaw dropped, and for a moment, all you could do was gape at him. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet,” he said, smirking, “here we are, stuck together. Funny how life works, huh?”

“Funny,” you muttered, storming ahead and refusing to look back.

The truth was, you were scared. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the forest shrouded in shadows. The trail you’d been following had vanished hours ago, and with every passing minute, the possibility of finding your way back seemed slimmer.

You hated feeling this vulnerable—especially in front of Haechan. The two of you had spent years getting under each other’s skin, your bickering a constant fixture of your shared friend group. But this was different. This wasn’t teasing over a missed deadline or a poorly worded joke. This was real, and it left you feeling exposed in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“Slow down,” Haechan called from behind you, his tone less sharp now. “You’re going to trip over something.” You ignored him, determined not to let him see how your hands were trembling.

“Hey,” he said, closer now. “Did you hear me?”When you didn’t respond, his hand caught your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

“What?” you snapped, spinning to face him. Haechan studied you for a moment, his dark eyes narrowing. “You’re scared,” he said, the words more observation than accusation.

“No, I’m not,” you lied, crossing your arms defensively. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I get it. This sucks. But freaking out isn’t going to help.”

“I’m not freaking out,” you said, though your voice betrayed you. He stepped closer, his expression softening in a way that made your chest tighten. “Hey,” he said quietly. “We’ll figure this out, okay? Together.”

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden shift in tone. For a moment, you didn’t see the usual smugness in his eyes—just sincerity.

“Fine,” you muttered, looking away. “But if you say ‘I told you so’ even once, I’m leaving you here.”

“Noted,” he said with a small smile.

The two of you walked in silence for a while, the tension between you easing with each step. Haechan had taken the lead, scanning the trees for any sign of the trail, while you followed a few paces behind.

“I can feel you staring,” he said after a while, his voice breaking the quiet. “I’m not staring,” you lied, though your gaze immediately dropped to the ground. He glanced back over his shoulder, his lips quirking into a smirk. “Like what you see?”

Your face burned as you scoffed, “In your dreams.”

Haechan chuckled, but he didn’t push it, instead focusing on the path ahead, falling into step beside you. It wasn’t until you bit your lip, lost in thought, that his voice cut through the quiet again.

“If you bite your lip one more time,” he said, his tone low and teasing, “I’m going to do it for you.”Your head snapped up, your eyes wide as you stared at him. “Excuse me?”He turned to face you fully, his smirk firmly in place. “You heard me.”

For a moment, the forest seemed to hold its breath. The teasing glint in his eyes was still there, but beneath it, something else lingered—something that made your heart race in a way you couldn’t ignore.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Haechan’s gaze shifted to something behind you.

“There,” he said, pointing to a faint trail winding through the trees.

Relief flooded you as you followed his gesture. “Finally,” you breathed, your shoulders relaxing. “Told you we’d figure it out,” he said, brushing past you to lead the way.

By the time the two of you made it back to the main path, the moon had risen, casting everything in a soft silver glow. The forest seemed less intimidating now, and the tension that had weighed on you all evening had started to fade.

“Well,” you said, glancing at Haechan. “I guess you’re not completely useless.”

“High praise,” he replied, his smirk returning. The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the quiet night stretching between you. For the first time, the silence didn’t feel awkward or tense. It felt... comfortable.

“You know,” he said eventually, his voice quieter now. “You’re not as bad as I thought.” You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Take it or leave it,” he said, but there was no malice in his tone—just a softness that caught you off guard. “Thanks, I guess,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Haechan stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours. You glanced up at him, your breath hitching at the way he was looking at you—like he was seeing you for the first time.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “We’re okay now, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice just as quiet. “We’re okay.”

Before you could overthink it, Haechan reached out, his fingers curling around yours bringing them to his lips, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. The gesture was simple, but it sent a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the chill of the night.

The space between you felt impossibly small, your fingers intertwined with his as he leaned in slightly. Your breath hitched as he tilted his head, his eyes flicking to your lips for just a moment before meeting yours again.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated for only a second before nodding.

He closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was soft, hesitant, and warm in a way that made your chest ache. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his touch gentle as if he was afraid to break the moment.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Well,” he said, his voice teasing again, “that’s one way to stop all the bickering.” You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, his smirk softening into a genuine smile.

As the two of you walked back to the safety of the campsite, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but think that maybe getting lost hadn’t been so bad after all. And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind the butterflies he gave you either.

masterlist. nct dream | nct 127 | wayv

100 follower event 🌷

navigation.

[chiimeramanticore]

– is this who you are? // — is this who you've always been?

happy (early) birthday mitzi! your gift is another existential crisis lmao– this is a redraw of a piece from 2 years ago! I've gotten a lot better at drawing animatronics since then, so I wanted to refresh one of my fav pieces :]

(old version + notes under the cut if you're curious!)

here's some fun facts about the piece bc I love adding details no one will notice lol:

the characters from left to right are: queenie from the wolf pack 5, mitzi from the rock-afire explosion, princess halley from the moonrockers, hannah banana, bear mitzi from the hard luck bears (these two are swapped in the old piece), and helen henny from chuck e cheese

i specifically used latex/3 stage helen as reference, but in the new version I couldn't help but take some of her shapes from her plastic mask lol

i also changed which HLB design I used for bear mitzi- iirc the old pic used her original design where the new version uses one of her outfits from the gulliver's parks

in both versions of the piece, all characters except mitzi are drawn with the symmetry tool– you can mirror the picture yourself to see it clearer!

in the new version of the piece, I also drew only mitzi using a brush with pen pressure and antialiasing– the others were all drawn with the digital pen (one of the default ibis paint brushes)! I drew the entire first version w this brush cuz I was super married to it until like 2 months ago lmao

if I'm being honest I completely forgot how to replicate the glowing effect from the first pic so that's why the bg characters look a little different this time gkfkgk

[dat-town]

another social casualty

Characters: golden boy!Jaehyun & loner!female reader

Setting & genre: hurt/comfort, coming of age, high school au

Summary: One fears not being lovable, the other fears losing people. Two lonely souls find each other.

Warnings: mentions of academic, parental and peer pressure, loneliness, nosebleed, past friendship fallout, abandonment issues (MC’s father left), anxiety, medication, crying, the romance is very slow burn, it’s more like finding safe haven in each other?

Words: 8.8k

Author’s note: title from the 5SOS song, though i listened to a whole lot of Keshi and Conan Gray while writing this. heavily inspired by Jaehyun’s crazy academic background and how he said he was in a dark place before joining KOZ, i can’t find the entire list of his school activities but here and here are some. header pic of Jaehyun is from starry-eyed

@restlessmaknae you chose this as the one you would be most interested in from my list, so i hope it doesn’t disappoint!

i did not expect to finish this before 2024 ends but here it is. wishing all my readers a 2025 spent with joy, in health, happy new year! <3

→ BEFORE

Myung Jaehyun is a people pleaser.

You can tell because you used to be the same. Not anymore. Still, you can’t look away because it’s like watching a train wreck. Terrible because you can see the cracks in his personality but intriguing at the same time. Just how much a person can mold their own material to make them fit into pre-shaped places? How can they make themselves smaller if there’s not enough space for them? It’s rush hour metro effect: one can always bend and push and press enough to squeeze inside, to turn into something they are not. This is how you become part of the machine.

You have been there. Now you prefer to be an observer. Now you don’t fake laughs over things you don’t find funny just to not hurt somebody else’s feelings. Now you rather sit alone at the canteen during lunch hour instead of pretending to be somebody you’re not just to be welcomed at a popular table. Now you prefer to be invisible rather than seen and judged. Ghosts have it better off in high schools.

Myung Jaehyun doesn’t seem to know that yet.

The first time you really saw Jaehyun, the principal called him in front of the lined up classes during the school year starting ceremony and pinned a badge with the title ‘school president’ onto his uniform. You looked up from the creases of the back of your classmate’s white shirt in front of you to see a boy on the podium as rigid as the pole with the Korean flag. His dress jacket was perfectly ironed, necktie tucked in, no wrinkles in his entire attire. Not even a piece of hair was out of place. He stood there, in front of the entire school, tall and proud, as an example just like the principal called him while listing all his achievements. He was not only a straight A student, a member of the student council and the vice president of the Economics and Business Management club but he also proved his worth as part of the football team and representing the school in various regional writing competitions. The list went on and on, Principal Lee was really emphasizing just how much he wanted to have more students like him, dedicated and hard-working ones, at the school, but you tuned out everything after the first few sentences. Myung Jaehyun caught your attention not because of the way the silver badge shone on his chest or the way he kept his eyes strictly on one point ahead, mouth pressed in a firm line, but rather because of the way his fingers twitched by his sides. When you looked closer, you could tell he was picking at the skin around his nail, a nervous habit. Everything about him was proper and perfect except that.

Ever since then it hasn’t been hard to notice him. Although you don’t share a class, with all his clubs and one too many responsibilities he is kind of everywhere. He’s announcing details about the upcoming annual trip on the school radio, he’s on the top of the list that’s pinned in the school hall about the midterm results, he’s holding a trophy in a photograph for the vitrine in the hallways that lead up to the school gym.

It’s not like you’re watching him. There’s nothing weird or stalkerish in it. You’re not even like the girls who whisper scream his name when he walks by and wonder if they should ask him out. You just notice him and observe. You keep looking for flaws in his picture perfect demeanor. You look for signs that there’s a human beneath that machine he seems to be. You just watch him from a distance and you’re content with that.

Until he notices you too.

→ SEPTEMBER

It happens on a Friday evening, early in the new term, long after the last classes ended, so the school library is pretty empty. You don’t like crowds, so you prefer to visit when most students have already retreated. This way you can also avoid running into people you don’t want to meet. You greet the tired librarian by the door with a bow and with your bag hanging from your shoulder, you head straight towards the Literature section because of an essay you have to write. It isn’t due for a week more but you don’t like to leave things to the last minute purely because of the stress that rushing brings. You trace the spines of the books with your fingertip as you walk past them, searching for a specific author and when you find it, you grab it from the shelf. You press it to your chest and slip out on the other side of the aisle, ready to head back towards the librarian’s desk when you hear a sniffle. You look up, towards the source of the sound and see him.

Myung Jaehyun is sitting at one of the tables in the back, hunched over text books. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand and it comes back red. It’s vivid like a blaring warning sign and your gut twists as the school president scrambles to hold off his nosebleed before it would get everywhere. His movements seem frantic, almost panicked as he fumbles with the zipper of his backpack but he freezes in spot when he notices you watching. With two fingers pressing his nose, blood splotches on the sleeve of his immaculate white shirt, he stares at you wide eyed, just as frozen in place as you are.

You’re startled. The moment your eyes meet, you feel his gaze burn. You cast your eyes down and take a step backwards, ready to leave and pretend nothing happened. Because nothing did. But then you halt, thinking better off it. You swiftly reach into the front pocket of your bag and take out a small packet of tissues and a piece of chocolate you always keep with yourself in case your blood sugar dipped. You can feel Myung Jaehyun’s eyes on you the entire time you walk up to his desk. Realistically speaking it doesn’t take more than a few seconds, it is six steps at max but it feels longer with his scalding attention on you. You’re not used to being watched, you’re a wallflower after all.

You put the tissues and chocolate down on the table and turn around to leave. You don’t wait for the boy’s reaction. You don’t even look at him. You don’t stop when he calls after you. You leave as quickly as you came. Blend back into the shadows where you like to be.

Myung Jaehyun doesn’t let you though.

Next week when you leave your classroom on Tuesday, he’s out in the corridor in front of the door, waiting. For you. There’s not much guessing about it since you are the last one in the class, everybody else having somewhere to run off and here you are, taking your time. You only falter for a moment when you step over the threshold and take in the sight of the school president in all his glory. Then you look down onto the laminated floor and turn down the corridor.

Jaehyun pushes himself away from the window frame he has been leaning against so far and catches up to you fast.

“Wait,” he calls after you, his voice is an echo of the sound he made back in the library.

Thinking back on it twists your gut uncomfortably as you remember the blood and how the boy looked at you like he never received kindness from a stranger. Much to your dislike, you slow your steps and eventually come to a halt when you realize you can’t just brush off the boy’s presence, so you decide it’s better to get over with. You look up at him questioningly, nails digging into the straps of your backpack as you wait.

“Can we talk?” Jaehyun asks, polite like anytime you heard him talk and he looks relieved that he doesn’t have to chase you down. His tie is a little crooked today but other than that there’s nothing out of place about him. Although from this close you see the dark circles under his eyes and can’t help but wonder how much he slept last night and the night before that. He has always had the best score but it didn’t stop him from running himself thin last week if the nosebleed is anything to go by.

“If you’re worried about what happened in the library, don’t. I won’t tell anybody,” you shrug because why would you? He certainly isn’t the first senior who drives himself over his own breaking point. You had heard stories about hospital IV dip visits, students fainting after handing in their papers and ‘vitamins’ passed around before exam week. The stakes are high. The competition to get into a Seoul university, especially a SKY one is cutthroat and you know that the school president aims for that. Everybody expects him to do so. With his list of achievements and history of high scores, it sounds viable. But at what price?

“It’s not that,” Myung Jaehyun protests but despite his words his shoulders visibly go slack with relief. You can tell that he cares a lot about his reputation and it sure would have left a stain if people knew that the all so perfect school president was human too, bleeding from academic pressure right on his homework. You grimace at the thought.

“You don’t owe me anything either,” you clarify because you never expected anything in return for being a decent human being and you don’t know what else he could possibly want.

“But…”

“Really. Just forget it,” you sigh, tired of arguing already. The boy looks conflicted under his wavy fringe, almost like a puppy before schooling his expression and clearing his throat.

“Thanks anyway,” he says before stepping out of your way, so you can keep going and you do. You move on with your life, watching from the sidelines as he receives praise for his participation in a regional essay contest and when the football team returns with another hard earned win.

Days pass in a blur. Like they always did. Just another day to get through. Just another week. Just another term. Gosh, you can’t wait for high school to end. You have had enough of seeing these people.

On Monday you make eye contact with Mijoo when you come out of a stall in the girls’ bathroom and she’s in front of the mirror fixing her already perfect makeup. She used to not do that, care too much about her appearance, not before she befriended Kim Soyeon. Now you awkwardly hold eye contact for one, two, three seconds and then she looks away. You’re the one who walks away just like you did before but it doesn’t make it easier. There’s something hollow and painful in your chest, still missing something you once had.

Three days later your mother asks you about school while you help clean the tables at the café. She asks about the midterms and if you’re still friends with ‘that ponytail girl’. The reminder feels like a slap and your throat closes up.

On Friday you skip out on lunch hour and spend it lying on the bench in the yard, staring at the sky. You’re caught like that when it starts to rain. You watch it through spread fingers as the first raindrops fall then close your eyes and smile. You have always loved the rain and even though it’s impractical to get soaked in the middle of the school day, you can always change into your PE clothes, you reason.

But then the rain stops. You can’t feel the cold drops on you even though you hear the rhythmic sound of them hitting the ground and you pry your eyes open only to see Myung Jaehyun standing above you with an umbrella held over you. You shoot up into a sitting position quickly, then stand up and smooth down your uniform. Not necessarily because you’re embarrassed but because you hate being a burden to others and while you didn’t ask for his help, based on his persistence from last time you know he wouldn’t have just left no matter what you told him. Hell, he even moves to shrug off his jacket before you stop him.

“It’s okay. I have a change of clothes inside,” you explain but there’s no arguing with the school president about walking you inside. You can tell he wants to ask you something but you don’t give him a chance to. Once you are between four walls, you mutter out a polite thanks and then head to your classroom.

→ OCTOBER

On another Friday evening, Myung Jaehyun asks if he can sit at your table in the near empty library. You don’t understand what he’s getting at, so you just shrug, still focused on your homework. When you steal a glance at the boy on the other side of the table, you see him go over pages of ink writing, highlighting certain parts. There’s torn and nipped skin around his thumb nail. You turn back to your workbook before he could notice that you were looking.

“Are you coming to the school trip?” The boy asks when half an hour later you start packing your bag. The question surprises you because he shouldn’t care. He doesn’t even know you.

“No,” you answer curtly, not going into details. He doesn’t need to know that you’ve always been a homebody and you don’t enjoy social interactions, especially not school-related ones. But Jaehyun is stubborn and curious a bit too much.

“Why not?” He asks and you sigh.

“It’s not really my scene. I don’t want to spend more time around my classmates than I have to,” you shrug nonchalantly but there must be something in your voice that gives you away because the boy furrows his brows in worry.

“Did something happen?”

“No,” you lie or well, not really. Technically, nothing really happened regarding the trip. But if things were like they were a year ago, you would be excited about going with Mijoo. Things just change, people too. It’s not necessarily a bad thing.

“You’re always alone,” Jaehyun says in a quiet voice in the library’s dead still silence. He says it like it was something you should be sad about. A part of you wants to question whether he had been stalking you to notice that but that would have been rich coming from you who had been watching him from afar all along, so you decide against it.

“Yes. I prefer that way,” you tell him instead and it’s true. Better alone than with fake friends. Yet, the boy can’t even seem to fathom the idea.

“You can’t mean that,” he mutters with widened eyes and it leaves you with something bitter in your gut.

Can’t you? Just because a pretty boy runs himself thin to get everybody’s appreciation, can’t you want some peace of mind alone?

“Not everybody needs constant validation,” you snap at him and it comes out harsher than intended. You can see the hurt mirrored in Jaehyun’s eyes but you don’t let yourself linger on it as you hoist your bag up to your shoulder. “Don’t make me your charity case.”

“I don’t… I’m not…”

The always so eloquent Myung Jaehyun seems speechless now but you don’t wait for him to figure out what he wants to deny more, whether he can at all. You leave him there at the table. You’re good at that: leaving. Better be the one doing it than being the one left behind.

It’s been four years since you last saw your father. A part of you misses him, or at least the idea of a reliable father. At first you had been angry at your mother for giving him an ultimatum but then realized that at the end of the day, it wasn’t her fault. It was your father who chose his gambling addiction over you. So maybe you were better off without him.

It was around that time too when you realized that being left short on money limited your future opportunities. Not that you ever dreamed about going abroad or attending the best schools in the country. You didn’t even know what you wanted to do with your life and it sounded stupid, spending so much money on education just because everybody else was doing it around you. You started helping out your mom at the café then too, so she wouldn’t have to hire another part-timer and even though now, when things are better, your mother tries to convince you from time to time to go to after school studies instead of wiping tables and washing dishes, you don’t mind doing it. You can choose the melody coming from the old retro music box, help her come up with decoration ideas for holiday seasons and taste test new baked goods. You also take your role as her social media manager very seriously, posting aesthetic photos on Instagram periodically. It’s a simple life, a comfortable one and you’re content with it.

Your homeroom teacher not so much.

He called you into the teachers’ office to talk and you already knew why. It made it a bit easier to brace yourself for the impact of his words. Him asking about the reasons why you didn’t apply to any university. He doesn’t accept your answer and your satisfaction easily, he pushes relentlessly, telling you that you would regret it one day but you know it’s not about your future, it’s about the school’s yearly statistics. You tune out most of his speech, focusing on a loose thread of his worn knitted sweater, of the low hum of the coffee machine in the back and the printer coughing up papers. Then a familiar voice reaches your ear and you glance over the cubicle wall to see Myung Jaehyun with a punch of papers in his arm. His homeroom teacher pats him on the shoulder, proud, and for a moment you wonder how the boy feels about it.

“Y/N! Are you even listening?” Your own teacher chides and you avert your gaze back to the man but in your peripheral view, you can see the school president turn towards you just when Mr Hong clicks his tongue in annoyance. “It’s always the ones without fathers. They lack discipline.”

His words burn you deeper than expected. Him blaming something like this on your lack of father, on your mother’s loving care and hard work essentially. It makes you clench your hands in fists by your sides until you’re dismissed with a resigned promise to think about it.

When you finally leave the teachers’ office, Jaehyun waits outside. His eyes are gentle and a little sad but not pitying as he asks: 

“Are you okay?”

“I will be,” you nod because it’s not a big thing, you will get over it. Jaehyun doesn’t press and you’re grateful for that.

You don’t know when it happens and how. Letting down your guard around Myung Jaehyun of all people. It happens gradually like the trees changing their green leaves to more colourful attire. You’re very different: he cares too much about his grades and image and you care too little. He has all these big ambitions and you have none. He basks in glory in front of the school and you let out a sigh of relief when you can get over a day without anybody talking to you.

You have never stopped looking at Jaehyun though. You see him in the corridor, tall and proud and confident. You see him celebrated for his achievements on the school podium and even in the canteen surrounded by all his so-called friends and admirers. The difference is that lately he has been looking back. His gaze meets yours in the busy canteen when you sit at a table with strangers like you usually do if there’s no empty table. Your eyes meet in the hall when you arrive two minutes before the bell rings and he’s on gate duty. He never talks to you, never approaches you and it makes it easier to relax in his company, knowing that he wouldn’t bring unwanted attention to you.

He finds you in the almost empty library though, sits at your table in silence and minding his own business. He doesn’t bring up the trip again and you don’t call him out on his unusual behaviour either. You just exist in the same space, without judgement, without expectations. It’s actually quite nice.

It gives you the push to go up to him too when you see him alone at your usual table in the library on a Thursday late afternoon. As you get closer you see a brochure for Seoul National University open in front of him and that he’s reading a book about writing personal statements and study plans for college applications.

“So SNU?” You ask quietly enough not to startle him as you slip into the seat across from him.

Jaehyun looks up, his hair a bit messy, probably from running his hand through it more than usual but you like this look on him. Not being oh so perfect makes him seem more approachable.

“Yeah. What about you?” He inquires, trying to make a conversation probably because you didn’t hear the beginning of your conversation with your homeroom teacher back in the teachers’ office. You used to be nervous when people asked such loaded questions, afraid of disappointing them but once you accepted that their opinion didn’t matter more than yours, it all became easier.

“Oh, I won’t go to university.”

“What? Why?” The school president’s eyes widen in surprise as if he couldn’t even imagine that and maybe he can’t. With the competitive job market of Korea, people are made to feel like they worth nothing without a degree but you never dreamed of a white collared job, so you don’t care about that. There are many respectable ways to live without pursuing higher education.

“I don’t need a university degree to help out at my mom’s café,” you explain matter-of-factly and then out of curiosity you look up at Jaehyun, the boy who picks on his skin and works hard until he gets nosebleed, who is always number one and the teachers’ favourite yet never really smiles.  “Why? Is it really you who wants to go to SNU?”

“Of course it’s me! Who else would it be?” Jaehyun’s voice pitches higher than usual, his tone defensive. You quirk a brow, not deeming necessary to answer. It could be his parents, his teachers, the society. He must realize it too because he cast his eyes down and his fingers twitch nervously over the papers in front of him.

After a few minutes of silent shuffling around, his phone buzzes and he curses under his breath, hastily packing his bag.

“I have practice. Sorry,” he apologises, which must be a force of habit because it’s not like you agreed to hang out, nor it’s like he should be sorry for leaving early.

You just nod at him, thinking of the pressure he must have on him with all these responsibilities of which you barely see a fraction. And if you take a detour to pass by the football field on your way out of school, it’s only for you to know. You can’t help it, you get too curious for your own good sometimes and you wonder how the school president is when he plays. It’s easy to spot him when you stop to watch a bit. It’s just practice but you can see how hard he tries, how he pushes his own limits. Running and running until he can’t. He doesn’t seem to do anything half-heartedly. He’s like a flame, burning bright, but you wonder just how long could his passion last before he burns out.

“You know, for somebody who doesn't plan on going to university, you’re here a lot,” Jaehyun mentions one time after he opens his Ethics book. There’s a question hidden in his statement but you don’t mind it as much as you thought you would.

“My mom doesn’t let me help out on school days and I like it here better than in the empty house,” you admit because no matter how much you like being alone, an empty, cold house has a different feel. This way your mom also has the illusion that you have friends to hang out or study with after school and doesn’t worry about you that much. Half of the time you don’t even do homework, just grab a book and read.

Jaehyun hums and stays quiet for a while but you can tell he lingers, he hasn’t flipped a page in the book in front of him for ages. You wait patiently for him to speak up, for his gaze guiding to your features again, tentatively this time.

“Do you… really don’t mind being alone? Aren’t you like… afraid of not having anybody in your life? Of being lonely?” He questions and you aren’t sure what happened that prompted him to ask about that but you would be the last person to judge him after voicing out fears so human.

“I’m more afraid of losing myself while trying to make myself digestible for others and I don’t like the idea of people leaving. It’s easier to avoid that if you don’t get attached,” you answer the best you can without sharing too many details, too many scars of your past. It already feels a bit too much, a bit too personal. You aren’t exactly friends after all. He’s just a boy who sometimes sits at your table. It’s not like you would see each other after graduation, it’s safe.

“Digestible?” Jaehyun mumbles, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Everybody does it. They pretend to be somebody they aren’t, so others would like them,” you explain but the boy shakes his head, not exactly in disagreement though.

“You make it sound so bad. But what’s so wrong about only showing your better sides to other people?”

You don’t answer right away. Just look into Jaehyun’s eyes, letting your gaze linger over his dark circles and the bitten ends of his nails. You sigh, quietly.

“Isn’t it tiring? Being in somebody else’s skin just to be liked?”

Jaehyun could argue that it’s still his skin, that it’s just a better version of himself and you would let him. If he wanted to hide his flaws and imperfections, he has every right and you wouldn’t tell him not to do it because you know how scary it’s to bare yourself in front of somebody else and it’s not like you’re not hiding parts of yourself, it’s just easier to not have anybody around you close enough to see them.

→ NOVEMBER

CSAT exams are approaching fast: students get busier, teachers try to squeeze in just one more type of question in their classes and you can tell that everybody’s nerves are fizzled.  One would think that the school president with his consistently high scores is calm and prepared but you know Jaehyun better than to believe that facade. Still, you don’t expect to catch him on a call with his mother when you leave the football field’s bleachers. These days the school library is full of people day and night, too busy, too stressful, so you prefer killing time on the white painted benches as long as the weather’s not too cold. You don’t mean to eavesdrop, you just halt in your steps when you hear Jaehyun’s voice, unsure of what to do.

“Everything’s okay, mom. Yeah, you don’t have to worry, I’m doing fine.”

His voice is cheerful but you can tell that it’s fake. You can hear him let out a deep breath when he lowers the phone in his hand. He isn’t fine. He has been running himself paper thin. Barely eating, barely sleeping. His hands tremble as he takes the pills. Whether it’s supplements or medicine for stress you never asked. He says it’s only until the CSAT is over. He says it like it’s natural, like it’s a rite of passage everybody goes through.

When you step out of the wall’s cover and Jaehyun sees you, he momentarily tenses before relaxing. You have already seen him in moments of weakness, he knows he doesn’t have to pretend in front of you.

He walks you to the bus stop before going back to squeeze in one more hour of studying before his body would give up on him. You think about stopping him, about telling him not to overdo it but you know that he’s smart enough to know he’s burning the candle on both ends and it could end badly. It also feels unfair of you to tell him to stop when you could never understand his ambitions, so it’s easy for you to say so. So instead of arguing about principles, or trying to stop him knowing it’s useless, you push a bottle of C-vitamin rich juice drink into his hands next morning when you meet by the school gates. It’s you saying that he isn’t alone without saying it. Because the thing is, he never was alone, not physically. But one can be lonely even when dozens of people surround them.

The day of exams is a nerve wracking one, even for you, who doesn’t care about it much because your future doesn’t depend on these scores. You can’t even fathom the pressure and how it feels for those who base their dreams on this one day. Your head is hurting from being in the stuffy classroom solving Maths problems and answering questions about paragraphs from classics all day but instead of heading straight home, you watch as students file out of the school in batches and then one by one. When Jaehyun steps outside of the building, he seems deep in thought and his hands are full of exam papers he’s still reading through. He doesn’t even notice you at first, not until you pull on the sleeve of his jacket. When your eyes meet, you realize that he looks beyond tired and anxious. It breaks your heart a little.

“How do you feel?” You ask carefully, taking the exam papers from his hands and folding them neatly, ready to be packed away.

“I thought I would be relieved that it’s finally over but I keep going back re-thinking my answers, wondering what if I messed it up,” the school president sighs deeply, a shaky little sound and he looks so worried with furrowed forehead and nervously tapping fingers that you have this urge to wrap him in a warm blanket and make sure he can be without worries just a bit.

“There’s nothing you can do about it now though. Maybe you should focus on something else,” you suggest, gently as you hand him back the papers and the boy nods, his fingers brushing yours as he takes it back.

“Yeah, you’re right. The regional football championship is on the corner and I need to write an essay for the school paper. Then there’s…”

“No, I meant…” You cut his anxious rambling off a little frustratedly but when you have Jaehyun’s deep brown eyes on you, curious and confused, you suddenly feel awkwardness sweep into your bones at your silly little idea. Nevertheless, you push through it.  “If you’re free this weekend, would you come with me somewhere?”

“Sure. Where are we going?” The boy doesn’t even hesitate even though he does sound a bit doubtful for which you don’t blame him. It’s the first time you initiate any kind of planned program when it’s actually you who claims she just wants to be alone and doesn’t want to get close to anybody.

“You’ll see. I swear I’m not kidnapping you,” you clear your throat, a bit nervous now that Jaehyun’s full attention is on you so unabashedly. 

“Very reassuring,” he laughs but it’s a little forced sound, the weight of the day still pulling him down, exhaustion slowly wearing him down. So after agreeing on the details like the meeting location and exact time, you usher him to go home and get some sleep.

You tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything. It’s not even a friendly thing, it’s just a thing. A fun thing because you have never seen Jaehyun do anything just for fun. Almost like if it doesn’t count towards his final evaluation in life achievements, it wouldn’t make sense to do so. Or as if he wouldn’t deserve it, which is just sad. So you plan to take his mind off the CSAT results that should come out in a week or two and make sure that he relaxes a bit even if just for a few hours.

You meet up near the metro station and while you show the way, it’s admittedly a bit awkward at first, since neither of you is used to small talk between you. Luckily, the theatre where you bought tickets to a contemporary comedy isn’t far and Jaehyun’s reaction is positively taken aback when you lead him to the entrance.

“Do you like it?” You inquire tentatively, trying to assess his reaction but it’s not easy Jaehyun looks more dumbfounded than anything.

“Yeah, but… how did you know?” He blinks at you a little awed.

“You’re applying to SNU’s Literature and Theatre department. It wasn’t that big of a guess that you appreciate theatre plays,” you shrug, trying to play it off coolly as you line up for ticket inspection.

Since it’s a smaller, more local theatre you don’t look that out of place even though you’re definitely one of the youngests in the audience. Luckily, the play is as funny as the reviews claimed it to be, so you have a good time and from the looks of it, Jaehyun too. It’s the first time you see him smile, really smile without forcing it, and you wonder why he’s hiding it. It’s a beautiful thing.

When the play ends, the boy insists on treating you to dessert as a celebration for getting over with the exams in exchange for the theatre ticket and sitting in the warm, already winter-decorated place, munching on brownie, the remaining awkwardness melts away. For the first time you don’t talk about school-related or heavy matters but rather things like your favourite season, sweet cravings in the colder weather, books you read and your families. It’s new and unfamiliar, a little scary because you can tell you’re getting attached but it’s nice and you decide to focus on that. You let Jaehyun walk you home because it’s late and dark, he reasons and there’s no arguing with him.

“See you at school,” he bids his goodbye when you arrive at the building where you live just above your mother’s cozy little café.

“Yeah. Take care,” you smile shyly and you can see a slow grin make its way to Jaehyun’s lips too. It looks genuine, just how he looks at ease as if some weight was lifted from his shoulders. It’s a good look on him.

→ DECEMBER

Frost is already decorating your window in the mornings when the CSAT results are delivered. Students are buzzing with anticipation and nerves. Once the scores are out, everybody’s guessing whether it will be enough for their first pick or they should scramble for extra points somehow. Most people accept their results eventually and get ready for the holidays instead. You know that Jaehyun did well enough to be hopeful, though you know better than to congratulate too early because SKY universities have much more complex acceptable criteria than other public universities. Not to mention, you know that even with great CSAT scores and good GPA, the competition for scholarships starts even before universities would notify the students about acceptance.

When you see Mijoo cry her eyes out in the girls’ bathroom, her mascara running down her pretty cheeks, something heavy settles in your chest. You haven’t talked in a year and you avoided each other after you got into that argument about how you wanted to live your lives but it would have felt wrong to just walk out without a word. For the sake of your happy memories before the fallout, you could still try to comfort her if she needed it.

“Are you okay?” You ask quietly, fully ready to be sneered at and sent away but your former best friend looks up at you with red rimmed eyes and relief.

“I will survive,” she lets out a shuddering exhale, her voice breaking between syllables. “My points are not good enough for a scholarship at Hankuk, so even if I do get in, I can’t enroll. We don’t have that kind of money. Soyeon and the others dropped me the moment they found out.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper and you mean it because even though you never wanted to go to university, you know how important it’s for Mijoo. More important than your friendship. And even though you have already warned her about what kind of person Soyeon is with her rich family and nicely paved future when they first started hanging out after hagwon, you don’t remind Mijoo that you told her so.

“No. I’m sorry,” she mutters and forces a hopeful smile looking at you. Slowly, you reciprocate it as you help her up. There is clearly something broken between you and it certainly can’t be fixed from one day to another but maybe it’s worth trying.

When Jaehyun asked about your winter break plans, you didn’t think he would make a visit at your mom’s café where you are now working most days. Usually it’s not you who interacts with customers, your mother and the part-timer handle it, so you’re quite surprised when Donghyun pokes his head into the kitchen and tells you that somebody is looking for you.

You’re confused but wipe your soapy hands and go outside only to see Jaehyun at one of the tables shyly waving at you. He wears a cute beanie that has snowflakes melting over the knitwear and his cheeks are tinted pink from the cold. But most importantly, he looks well rested.

“Hey,” you greet him when you reach his table and you can practically feel your mother’s curious gaze on you. “Donghyun said you were looking for me?”

“Uh, hi, yes. Actually I just asked if you were here but he said you would get you, so…” Jaehyun trails off with a casual shrug. “I hope it’s not weird that I’m here. I don’t want to be a bother.”

You hastily shake your head no.

“No! It’s okay, really. I hope you like it here,” you say and brush a piece of hair behind your ear a bit self-consciously. You love your mother’s place with your whole heart, so sharing it with him even if unintentionally feels a bit like sharing a part of yourself. But you don’t mind, you realize, not if it’s him.

“I do. Your mom makes a killer hot choco,” Jaehyun smiles softly and his compliment sounds so sincere, you can’t help but smile too.

“She will be delighted to hear that,” you note as you sneak a look at the boy’s mug which definitely has more marshmallows than the standard. You turn to look at the woman behind the counter but she just waves you off, not so subtly telling you to keep your friend company, the dirty dishes can wait.

So you end up sitting down by Jaehyun’s table, talking about how he spent Christmas with his family, visiting relatives in the countryside and bickering with his older brother while you tell him about your cozy Disney movie nights and eating too much of your mother’s holiday butter cake. It’s when Jaehyun leaves and you glance at his empty spot that you realize you would miss him after graduation and joke’s on you, really, because you were the one to first approach him. You should have known better if you weren’t ready for the consequences.

→ JANUARY

The days leading up to graduation are a rollercoaster of emotion.

“So what’s with you and the school president?” Mijoo asks playfully on one of the last days of school when you’re eating together in the canteen and she catches sight of the boy with other football players as she follows your line of sight.

“Nothing,” you claim, bewildered, quickly averting your eyes back to your food, scrambling to find some excuse but Mijoo doesn’t even listen.

“Yeah, sure. I know your mother’s café is good but he’s practically a regular now,” she huffs and you start regretting that you told her that. “And don’t tell me it’s because he’s tutoring your part-timer during his shifts.”

You close your mouth without saying anything because you were just about to bring up how Jaehyun and Donghyun seem to get along, the school president helping out the junior student with his English.

“Not to mention, you went to his last football match and you don’t even like sports,” Mijoo continues and yeah, that’s on you. You even dragged her along (not that she needed much of a convincing) because you didn’t want to go alone, to be so out of your element and the girl was just happy to spend time with you again.

“I was just… curious,” you mumble, poking your tofu cubes with your chopsticks on your plate.

Seeing Jaehyun on the field was like seeing a different side of him. You know thanks to his stories that he liked football since he was a kid and he appreciates the teamwork aspect of the sport but watching him play during a match felt special. Sure, he still looked focused and determined, a bit uptight like he did when it came to his academics but after the winning goal point, being huddled by his teammates, he looked so proud. It’s a look he never allows himself when it comes to his individual success because he’s too hard on himself, as if he didn’t deserve it, as if he still should have done better. So you’re glad that you went, that you could see him genuinely be happy with his team over the win. Still, you slipped away without congratulating him, letting the school crowd surround him because he was supposed to be in the center of the attention and you wanted no part of that. You didn’t think Jaehyun noticed you, not until he shyly asked how you liked the game the next time you met.

“You know,” Mijoo speaks up thoughtfully, humming against her utensils before putting them down the metal tray and looking you in the eyes.  “It’s okay to let people close. Even if it doesn’t last forever, wouldn’t that be still better than wondering about the what ifs?”

For the longest time you thought that no, it wouldn’t but you glance at Jaehyun and how he shines brighter than the Sun but hides so many moonlit parts of himself that you’re privileged to know and you think that maybe, just maybe it’s okay to let yourself be vulnerable with some people.

The last day of school brings so much snow that the entire school yard is covered in cloud-like white and even the teachers give up preaching about life lessons after lunch hour. A bunch of eighteen year olds run to the field as if you were still kids and it’s that moment when it dawns on you that maybe it’s really the last time you can be freely child-like without adult responsibilities would weigh you down. Maybe that’s why you don’t protest that much when Jaehyun finds you and drags you outside to join the fierce snowball battle. For once, you don’t care about the looks you might get, you don’t care about potentially being put in the center of attention just by being with him, you don’t care about what it means to your future and you have never felt lighter.

You have snow in your hair, cold sweeping into your bones through your soaked shoes and your cheeks still hurt from laughing when later Jaehyun suggests going to your mom’s for hot chocolate to warm up. You agree easily and follow him inside to get your stuff. You shake snow off your coat, trying to warm up your cold-bitten hands by rubbing them together when you notice that Jaehyun abruptly stopped beside you.

Confused, you turn back to look at him just to see him stare down at his phone, his smile long lost from his face. You’re not sure whether it’s your place to even ask what happened, not when Jaehyun finally meets your eyes and he looks like he just saw a ghost. All pale and eyes glossy.

“They…” He starts but his voice breaks before he could get the sentence out. “They rejected me.”

“What?” You ask, dumbfounded. You watch as a drop of snow slides down Jaehyun’s face, leaving a tear-like trace behind on his flushed face and your heart aches before you can really process what’s going on.

“SNU. I just got the rejection email,” the boy mutters and lets out a way too forced laughter. He reaches to his messy locks with trembling fingers, scattering snow everywhere as he takes a shaky breath and starts walking up and down anxiously.

You just stand there, frozen, your heart sinking at the sight of him. There’s frustration and disbelief and bitterness as a scoff scratches his throat. You can see him fighting tears, not wanting to fall apart, not here, not in front of you, maybe not ever.

It was his dream, getting into SNU, and everybody told him he could do it, that for him it would be easy and while it’s flattering, people’s trust in his abilities, it still put him on pedestal, under such pressure that it almost broke him and now you can see him being crushed down from the same weight.

You don’t know what makes you do that, from where you take the courage but suddenly you stand in front of him, stopping him in his pacing, and take his shaking hand in yours.

“How… how will I tell my parents? What‒” Jaehyun gasps for air and you can feel him squeeze your hand for support as he struggles to fill his lungs with oxygen. “What do I… do now? I don’t… I didn’t…”

“Shh,” you slide a hand over his nape, massaging the tight muscles there in a weak attempt to calm him down before he could drive himself into hyperventilation. He’s so tense from the sheer effort to not break down, tear drops clinging to his eyelashes, blurring his vision. “Just let go. It’s okay.”

“No,” Jaehyun pushes back, stubborn but he’s clinging to your hand like a lifeline.

“It is. It’s just me,” you insist because you don’t judge, not for this, never for something like this. “I’m here.”

That’s all it takes for Jaehyun to give in and his tears start falling. You can feel when tension leaves his body and he all but crashes into you, his broader form slumping against you with his forehead on your shoulder, crying into your neck. You put a hand over his back, rubbing soothing patterns against his spine.

You don’t know how long you stay there. You wait until Jaehyun’s quiet sobs die down and his breathing slowly normalizes, until he pulls away enough to look into your own teary eyes. You know you couldn’t say anything to calm the mess in his head because you can’t quite understand how much this lost opportunity means for him, so you don’t tell him frivolous things like how it’s not the end of the world.

“You will be okay,” you whisper, quiet and sacred like a wish. “You don’t have to figure out how, not right now.”

A week later you graduate.

Myung Jaehyun stands on the podium in front of the lines of students and seated parents. He has a pledge of honors students on his suit and a bouquet of flowers in hands, an offer from another still prestigious university in his inbox and his parents, proud, in the crowd. His speech makes you feel nostalgic and when your eyes meet, a small smile appears on his lips, imperfect but happy, so pretty. You watch him and feel yourself smile too. Maybe it’s not actually that bad; being seen.

→ AFTER

Contrary to what you expected, Jaehyun stays as a permanent fixture in your days even after graduation. He hangs out at the café, sometimes stays even after closing, helping you put the chairs onto the tables and watching you learn how to make coffee and latte art. Sometimes you go to theatre plays or to the cinema, he invites you out to help him buy a present for his mother and then buys you hotteok as thanks.

Then university starts and he gets busier but you can tell that he doesn’t let school work bury him under like it did in high school. It’s good for him, starting fresh in a place where nobody knows him and his perfect student reputation. It’s less pressure on him and he can form genuine friendships without the fear that he’s approached only because of his influence as school president or his diligent note taking.

“I met this guy in Sociology class and he just asked if I wanted to be friends out of the blue. He invited me to hang out with him and his friends over the weekend. It was so random but it felt nice,” he says one day, leaning against the mop in his hands. You hum, letting him know that you’re listening even while cleaning the countertop. Apparently he and Sungho bonded over football, so they made plans to play one of these days.

“That’s good. You love football,” you note lightheartedly when you move to take the mop from him, checking if he missed any spots but of course he didn’t.

“Yeah,” Jaehyun hums, fixing his hair now that his hands are free and he turns after you when you walk farther to put the cleaning tools away. “I wanted to ask if maybe you wanna come along? To watch?”

You freeze, avoiding looking at the boy. You do want to watch him play but being with strangers isn’t really something you’re comfortable with, even if he’s there, even if he says they’re cool. Jaehyun knows you enough though and he can tell you hesitate, so he adds:

“You can bring Mijoo too if you want. And I’m thinking of inviting Donghyun too because Sungho also has younger friends.”

Okay, that doesn’t sound so bad. At least you would know people other than Jaehyun too. Maybe it would be fun.

“I will think about it,” you promise and Jaehyun beams almost as if you already said yes. He’s humming along to the music from the radio while you make sure everything is ready for closing. These days your mother lets you do so a few days a week just as she’s more comfortable with the idea of actually employing you.

Once the lights are switched off and the door is closed, Jaehyun walks you to the staircase leading to the upper floors where you live and for some reason he looks nervous standing in front of you. You lift your hand to wave him goodbye and tell him to take care on his way home like always but he beats you to it with a rushed out question.

“Do you wanna go to the movies this Friday after your shift?”

“Yeah, sure,” you reply easily, without hesitation because it’s him, just him, and you’re comfortable with him even if he sometimes makes your heart beat irregularly. Like right now when he blinks, all puppy-like and licks his dry lips to clarify.

“I mean… like a date?”

“Oh,” you mumble and feel air punched out of your chest as you process the information along with the unsure tilt of Jaehyun’s words. He really does look nervous. You make him nervous.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to make things weird between us but sometimes it already feels like we’re dating and I have to stop myself from holding your hand or… khm, so like I just wanted to put it out there,” he stops his own rambling, eyes darting everywhere before finally settling on you, his words filling you with warmth. “That I like you.”

“Okay,” you let out a long exhale, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your light cardigan, then clear your throat. “What… what are we watching?”

“Wait, is that a yes? To the date?” Jaehyun asks with widened eyes and a grin so wide you can’t help but chuckle fondly.

“Yeah,” you nod shyly, pink painting your cheeks under the yellow hue of the lights. “And you can hold my hand.”

You were fine alone but if it’s Jaehyun, you don’t mind taking risks.

[aespabangedbang]

Appa's🥴JiminJeong

Please take part in this pole to decide future smut style. (Click on it for poll)

Writer's Note: "A drop of cum still beside her lips, licking the creampie visible around her tongue with an ice cream in hand to mislead the audience otherwise… well the cold of ice cream actually helping to ease the pain of her sore throat from all the deepthroating!" That's the lore behind these 2 cutie nasty pics that Winter uploaded just after coming back from the dating rumor. So for the birthday girl, this is the smut I wrote along corrupting Karina at the end.

Happy New Year and Happy Birthday to Cunty Cutie Winter, Busty Bitch Karina, Hottie Slut Giselle and Little Hoe Ningning alongside all the deranged reader here.

Warning: FULL CON story, Mention of previous NON CON, DILF, Incest, Hardcore, Facefuck, Creampie, Anal, DUB CON, taming, training, rough manhandling, bloody, piss play, vomit, cheating and few other.

Warning: 18+ story, pure smut, don't ask for morality.

Word Count: 5,400 (No proofread)

I had an all-nighter yesterday. My bitching lady boss messed up this month, but it's her employees like me who have to pay for that. So we are overworking to the bone and losing all sleep. Still we are nowhere near finishing this project. Gangbanging her would be a better solution than this. She sure looks tasty as fuck!

Anyway, I have just woken up after only 3 hours of sleep. It's 9 AM in the morning and en route to brew some coffee from my state of the art coffee maker in the kitchen. My step daughter Minjeong is making some cereal for herself, looking as small, cute and precious as always.

“Good morning appa!” Minjeong says sweetly. “You could just ask me, I would brew some coffee for you. You came home so late at night.” Her concerned soft expression made me feel a little warmer, she really cares about her family members. She is looking at me like a puppy for an answer.

“It's ok Minjeong, a big mug of coffee and I’ll be good.” I assure her, pat her head and go to the coffee maker. “Where is your mom?” I ask her. “Aha, mom went to see her friends. They have a get together today.” “I see, she is having a good time.” Fuck it, here I am working nonstop and she is having parties. I could use a good fuck now.

My wife is 15 years older than me. She had Minjeong very early in her 17's and raised her as a single mom until we got married a year ago. Her mom is such a hot bitch and rich that I got hooked after a few nights together. She is 40, I am 25, Minjeong 23 so it's kinda awkward between us as dad and daughter. We are more like friends than having a paternal relationship.

I take a jar of coffee bean and about to grind it, suddenly Minjeong asks, “You must be feeling lonely appa. If you wish I can accompany you... Just like umma!” She whispers the last few words, but it's enough to send shivers down my spine. I turn my head toward her and unknowingly my hands shake a little.

Minjeong has lifted her striped t-shirt above her chest, giving me a view of her small but perky and pointy boobs covered by black cotton lingerie. Her other hand has pulled down one side of her shorts, showing me her camel toe hiding behind her black cotton panty. But it's her slim yet toned tummy that always makes me feel weak.

She has the most delicious looking abs ever. She may not have big boobs like her mommy or big ass like my boss, but she still has that slender yet toned abs and perfect vertical belly button that can make any man droll. All the pilat she does daily really made her into such a tease.

I take a deep breath. I am already too much on edge, got a truck load of work and I really don't want to cheat on my wife with her own daughter. “Ha ha ha is how they joke nowadays. Good grief, thanks for lifting my mood ha ha ha…..” I awkwardly answer back. I feel shiver again as I stiffly turn my head.

I start grinding my coffee ignoring Minjeong who is standing there with a wanton pouty expression. Must be her raging hormones, just like me. But I am not touching her, she is now my daughter. No way, abstain abstain abst…..

Someone’s long finger and thin arms embrace me from behind, someone's little squishy boobs and pointy nipples press on my back, someone's hot breaths send shivers down; It's Minjeong who hugged me tightly from behind. “I want you appa… inside me!” She whispers like a siren.

Fuck it Minjeong. Why is she making it so difficult? I try to act cool and say, “S-Sure Minjeong, I may spend the day with you INSIDE your room. I-I’ll bring my laptop there after I make cof....” Someone's hands grab my bulge over my pajama, both hands start stroking it. “Damn it Minjeong, what the fuck!” I lost my cool at last.

“Appa, it's you who used me first.” She pulls my assets out. One hand stroking my cock, the other clawing my balls. “That day you forced me down and used me for your pleasure, then why are you rejecting me now?” Her voice is full of lust. “Use me again appa!” She starts grinding her little boobs against my back now, her hands getting faster and tighter. It's making me insanely horny, abstain abst……

It was three months after my marriage. My wife was on a business trip. Minjeong was doing some yoga wearing tights. Her tight nipples were poking through her sports bra, her pussy lips were bulging out everytime she was spreading her legs. The low waist of her leggings showed the entirety of her toned sweaty abs, making her just irresistible. I couldn't take the bitchy appearance of her anymore, my penis got completely erected to fuck her.

“P-please go to your room Minjeong and do Yoga there. Let me watch TV in peace.” I warned, but she didn't listen. “I am not obstructing you, I am not even making any noise!” She scoofs me off. Back then she didn't respect me much because of our little age difference. On top of that it's her mom’s house, so she always looked down on me. My raging anger sparked my hardly contained fuel of lust and I lost all control.

I turned on the loudspeaker and cranked it high. Then I abused her body like a cheap sex doll right there, right then. She bleeded from the start, hinting I took her virginity. Tearing her legging apart I claimed my step daughter's holes as mine. She screamed, she cried, she protested, she begged, she tried to fight back. In response I beat her up, humiliated her, kissed her like a maniac and pumped her full of my cum repeatedly for an hour until she submitted to call me appa with respect. At the end I pissed on her totally broken body as a final act of humiliation.

Since then she never acted up, always called me appa like a little obideant girl and wore dresses that won't arouse me to fuck her up. Especially hiding her tummy from me. I decided not to abuse her in future, I love my wife and fucking her daughter is wrong for an appa. She is my daughter too now, that was just an impulsive accident and mostly Minjeong’s fault for wearing a seductive dress, being such a rapebait.

I yank her hands of my goodies and turn back, I need to take control of this situation. “L-LOOK MINJEONG, WAIT A SEC!” I end up shouting, but lower my voice immediately, “That was an accident. I was just out of my mind and you were being too seductive with your poses and dresses and all….. I am sorry, ok?” I forgot my dick is still out and now poking her delicious abs.

I try to pull my pants hurriedly but she grabs my fully erected 7 inch cock strongly with both of her hands and starts stroking my length properly face to face. Damn, she’ll make me cum at this rate. I try to reason with her. “LET'S not do it, we are father and daughter. Step, but still I won't fuck you ever again. LET'S STOP!” I grab her shoulder instead of her busy hands, deep down I am enjoying every stroke from her.

“Then throw me back appa, you were so dominant when you forced me. I cried, I bleeded, I begged but your cock didn't stop thrusting in me. I was in pain but you didn't listen a bit. Your hand didn't lose its choke on my neck either.” She grabs one of my hands and puts it around her neck, her hands clenching my balls painfully. “Little me is your plaything appa, throw me back if you don't want to use me again. Not like I can stop you!” She leans close to my chest, her needy face upward almost like wants to kiss me.

I can't answer her back, I can't throw her back either. Honestly I wouldn't mind fucking her like a bitch every single day, her body is even tastier than her mom. She is more beautiful than her mom. Her age makes her a better partner for me than her mom. Fuck, she would even make a better wife than her bitching mom whom I first fucked in a night club. So despite knowing it's wrong, despite knowing I shouldn't fuck her again, I can't simply bring myself together to throw her back.

She looks at me with her bewitching puppy eyes, her head tilted with a smirk, “I know you can't throw me back appa. You are such a fucking monster!” She goes onto her knee, my disgustingly long penis close to her mouth. “Let your daughter take your stress away appa. Abuse me again like a sex doll. I have been such a bad girl!” She kisses the tip of my cock, uses it like lipstick to smear my juice on her lips teasing me further.

Seeing her small face beside my comparably huge cock makes me lose all control. In my last effort I try to scare her off, “I’LL TELL YOUR MOM MINJEONG! STOP PLEASE STO…..” She takes my cock in, well only half of it. Her hands are busy stroking the other half and messaging my balls. “DAMN FUCK IT MINJEONG!” I stand like a statue, my hands above my head and I am unable to do anything as my daughter is giving me face.

Sloppy but with effort she is sucking me off. Everytime she takes me in, she tries to go deeper than before. Her deepthroating makes me feel so good that if I knew she could give such a good head, I would keep forcing her every single day. Fuck it, she is not my real daughter and we are similar age. Fuck it all, I am gonna use her like the way she mean. Like the way I should have used her everyday.

Father's hands are blessings for daughter but my cursed hands grab her short bob hair tightly, I buck my hip back and leave only the tip, then push hard to make her gag hitting the back of her throat. “OK YOU FUCKING BITCH, APPA WILL GIVE YOU WHAT YOU WANT!” Now I am face fucking her with such lust that rival the day I forced her. She is trying to fight her gag reflex to take me in but there is only so far I can go in this position.

I pull my cock out her mouth and start choking her with both hands, using her neck as a handle as I start dragging her to the living room. She is still on the ground, between my legs getting dragged on her ass on the floor like a sex doll getting roughly manhandled. Just like what she wanted. I let go of her throat and grab her pussy tightly to lift her light body up. I throw her on the sofa and quickly turn her upside down, her head dangling at the edge of the seat. Her back bented against the backrest, her pussy facing the ceiling.

I pull up her shorts and panties in one go, her wet glistening brown pussy got plump from arousal. That's not my attraction now. I shove my cock in her mouth again, her dangling head aligned her mouth and food pipe in perfect straight line. “You wanted to get face fucked so badly, RIGHT YOU CHEAP WHORE? SO BE IT!” I grab her heels strongly and spread them apart. Her delicious wet peach winking at me, it's been a year since I have seen her pink asset. I push my cock and it slides in completely.

Having no restriction my cock goes all the way in reaching her food pipe. Her body shakes from the intense pressure, pain and gag reflex. But I don't care about her safety. I am only bringing my cock halfway outside, making sure my cock always stays deep in her cheap throat. That's it. I am now fucking her face, deepthroating her foodpipe while she keep choking and gagging around my meat. My cock visibly bulging her thirsty throat with the appa meat she was craving for.

HUGHH PUFF AGGH PUFF ARGHH PUFF ARGH PUFF HUGH PUFF AGH

The tormented plea of Minjeong’s mouthpussy along air escaping her food pipe with every pump fueling my lust, making my morning wood harder. Minjeong’s pussy is now breathing, clenching air with every painful thrust, inviting me to breed her daughter hole once again. I let go of one of her legs, it fell limp. I start rubbing her wet pussy, making her back arch in pleasure.

“Enjoying too much? You bitch, let's see how you can keep enjoying it!” I start slapping her pussy loudly, her body reflexively jerking with every hit. I keep slapping until her pussy becomes full red, her clit has erected to the point of a little horn sticking out. I pinch it with the intention of tearing it apart, immediately her back arch and she starts convulsing. A second later my masochist daughter starts squirting, her hips bucking with unison. I don't stop face fucking while she keep fighting her climax, getting herself drenched in her own juice.

Her hands are pushing me to get my cock out her mouth, her face has flushed full red now. But like that's an option. “WHAT? Does Appa's lollipop don't taste sweet anymore? Die if you have to Minjeong, but keep sucking appa until I am satisfied.” I declare my utmost authority over her and keep using my daughter as a fleshlight, restlessly. My hip aching, Minjeong squirming her body and trying to pull out her head twisting it. No, I won't let my fuck doll escape from me.

I let go of her other ankle and grab her necks with both of my hands. Pull my cock out all the way leaving only the tip in and thrust back in her food pipe as fast and as hard as I can. My hands can feel my cock inside her neck, stretching her gullet with each thrust. I wanted to take a piss after my coffee but this bitch took my pee pee in her mouth before that. So be it, then be my urinal too. “HERE COMES APPA’S HONEY DOWN YOUR GULLET MINJEONG!” And I start pissing straight in her food pipe burying my cock as deep as I can, making sure all of my smelly golden piss fills her tummy.

Minjeong’s face contorted from the burning heat and stinky smell of my yellow morning thick juice. That's the right kind of fluid a bitch like her deserves. After emptying my bladder inside her, I give a few more deep satisfying thrust and pull out. “ARRRG ARGH AHGHH AHHH HURK HAKK HURGGH...” Poor Minjeong, even before she catches her breath and stops retching, piss and half a bowl of cereal start gushing out her filthy mouth. Most of it spurt on the tiles, rest start dripping down her now ruined face.

“YOU ARE SO GROSS MINJEONG!” I mock her as if it's her fault. “Why are you pissing from your mouth? Did appa’s thrust morphed your mouth into an actual pussy? kekeke silly girl!” I give her face some encouraging slap and help her to sit back. “Are you happy being appa’s property, Minjeong?” I squeeze her hair tightly and force her to look at me. Her face is drenching with my piss and cereal, snots dripping from her nose. She somehow say collecting her breath, “Y-you are still a monster appa… I think that's what I love about you!” A masochistic smile shines on her filthy face, that's otherwise always cute.

“You are something else my daughter. You should have told appa how you feel about me, about us” I give her a nasty smirk while my hand targets her face with my gun of a cock and starts fapping, getting pretty close. “I was afraid until I couldn't take it anymore. Use me more from now on appa!” Her lustful plea and filthy face pushes me at the edge at last and I let go. Ropes and ropes of my daddy's milk paint the face of my cute step girl Minjeong, who has submitted herself to be my new woman.

She opens her abused mouth to taste appa's milk. After cumming probably the biggest load I have ever cummed, her face and t-shirt is all sprayed with my batter. Fuck her mom or my boss, as long as I got my good gal I won't need any more bitch. “You clean up Minjeong. Appa coming back to take care of you after I get my coffee.” I slap her face with my cock and go back to make my coffee…

Aha, I was feeling so hazy without my coffee. Man, feeling good after I have a power boost caffeine. Let's get back to work and my toy Minjeong. I look back, and see Minjeong has wiped most of the appa juices from her face except a drop of cum beside her lips. Also didn't gulp the cum that went into her mouth, visible around her tongue. She is taking selcas of her cummed face with an ice cream on her hand. Acting like the cum is ice cream and not her appa’s cream.

“What are you doing baby? Don't tell me you will upload it online!” I am kinda surprised by her boldness. “Already done appa, my friends and followers are liking it on insta hi hi hi hi…” She gives me her warmest smile as if I didn't defile her a moment ago. “You are so nasty Minjeong, I love that about you.” “Make me your woman appa, I am better than my mom. I’ll make you the happiest ever!” Look at her drooling. “What about your mom?” I ask playfully. “You know better than anyone that she is getting pounded senseless somewhere atm!”

That's true. She loves to fuck and get fucked. That's how we found each other. So she definitely won't be lonely without me inside her holes. “Ok Minjeong. But you have to do everything on my whim as my woman. No going back.” I am setting the boundary to let her know who is the dom and sub in our taboo relationship. “Ok appa, I’ll be your obedient little puppy!” “You are really your mom's daughter, you fucking bitch!” I grab her neck again, lift her up and start walking to our room. I have a mountain of work to complete and daughter holes that I need to dig! It's gonna be a long and busy day…

DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG

Our “Father Daughter Whole Day Coupling” project gets interrupted by someone’s unexpected continuous bell. I was pounding Minjeong's ass, locking both of her hands behind, in the pleasant doggystyle on our marital bed. Her cunt already sopping with our combined juice and her ass, after bleeding a little, is now gapped enough to take me in easily. Her mother isn't coming back today. So who the fuck is here to disturb my wholesome day?

With a disgusted expression I check the door cam and see another appetizing daughter at my door. It's Minjeong’s best friend Jimin Yu, the youngest daughter of Yu family. She comes often to hang out with my baby girl. She got a body that was meant for nothing but fucking. Petite perfectly proportioned figure, 34D cup sized boobs that look massive clinging to her little frame, tight curves in all the right places and a face that's even more beautiful than Minjeong… She is the perfect hoe, the aphrodite in flesh!

If I put it like that, then I actually wish she was my step daughter and not Minjeong. Then I could fuck her like I am fucking Minjeong atm… Wait a sec, ain't my daughter's friend is also my daughter. Technically daughter like right? So, if I can have Minjeong, then why can't I have Jimin as my fuck doll too? That's the right thing to do, right? I think, completely oblivious to the fact of all the illogical points. Working like a machine, completely drowning in lust, fucking like rabbits and relying on caffeine solely makes your reasoning like this.

So I devised my master plan of adopting another daughter, sexually. I dress Minjeong up as fast as I can, wiping her pussy and asshole licking and kissing and biting… You get the gist. She opens the door for Jimin and brings her inside. Trying to act as normal as she can but sooner witty Jiminie figures out something is wrong with the place. While I did wipe the piss on our kitchen before, it was still unorganized from our morning playtime and all. Minjeong herself was all flushed and hot from the hours long intercourse so she makes up saying she has got a fever.

Jimin, being the ever compassionate and reliable friend she is, decides to stay with us full day to take care of Minjeong. Fuck, She just spoiled my full day of guilty pleasure so it's another reason that she have to pay back with her body and holes. Jimin feeds Minjeong cooking herself and tucked her on the bed for rest. Exhausted Minjeong falls asleep soon enough. Now is my chance.

I offer Jimin some fine wine for her trouble. She accepts, has no reason to say no. After a few shots she gets flushed and a little drunk. “Minjeong actually lied to you. She doesn't have a fever.” I tell her the truth. “Hmm, what? But she is definitely feverish and flushed!” Jimin looks at me with puzzled eyes, Minjeong never lies to her about serious things. “Yes she lied. We were actually fucking like rabbits whole day. I roughly deepthroated her, creampie bred her pussy and sodomized her ass bloody before you arrived. That's why she was so hot and flushed the whole day. It's just you ruined our plan of having sex for whole day.”

I nonchalantly declassify our taboo relationship to Jimin before taking a long sip. Jimin’s eyes blinking, confused and taking time to process the gravity of this info. After a few moments she gulps and says somehow, “N-Nice joke uncle… Your straight face almost made it sound real. Is this a new way of teasing?” She tries to be cool and smart, to her it's still an impossible idea. “Why? Do you think it's not real? Don't forget I am her step dad and she gave me full consent.” I have finished my glass of wine.

“No n-no, NO WAY!” Jimin’s eyes go wide, she covers her mouth in disbelief. I stand up and let her see the huge bulge in my pants pointing at her pretty face. I take a step at her. Jimin picks her phone up, trying to call for help. Her hands are shaking. I snatched the phone from her, “Be a good girl and don't tell anyone.” Jimin’s face is full of fear. “O-ok u-uncle. I-I won't.” She springs up, tries to go outside. I block her path, “It's already 8pm, stay the night with Minjeong. She will need care,” I order her. She quickly runs to Minjeong’s room and tries to wake her up.

“MINJEONGIE, WAKE UP, WAKE UP DAMN!” My daughter wakes up but before Jimin finishes her plea to Minjeong to save her, I butt in and say, “Minjeong your bestie Jimin will give me your share of pleasure that she spoiled.” Jimin turns her head with fearful eyes, almost tearing. “Besties share each other’s burden, so Jimin have no problem fucking me.” I decide it for her as it's the right thing to do. “And start calling me appa from now on Jimin.” I have come out of the shadow in the room and my naked erected penis is threatening Jimin’s safety.

“STAY AWAY! MINJEONGIE! Your appa trying to sexually violate me!” Jimin shakes Minjeong like a ragdoll, desperate to have her support. “Ok appa. Just don't break her into two pieces.” Minjeong, my new sex toy, gives me permission to use her bestie. “WHAT?” Jimin gets angry. “WHAT ARE YOU SAYING MINJEONG? YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME! THAT'S NOT EVEN YOUR BF, THAT'S YOUR APPA!” Her desperation is really amusing. “So you wouldn't mind fucking her boyfriend? Naughty girl, come to appa then!”

My hands reach for her, she hugs herself in a futile attempt to hide her ample boobs. Minjeong has sit up behind Jimin and before her friend can react she pulls Jimin’s hands over her head and pins her down on the bed. Jimin's boobs are bouncing around as she is struggling to break free, legs kicking to keep me away, trying to twist her body to break free. I carefully grab her ankles and get past them, her legs around my waist now. “P-PLSASE DON'T DO THIS TO ME MINJEONG!” She try to convince Minjeong for last time.

“I am appa’s woman now Jimin. If appa wants you, I’ll give him my bestie.” Minjeong says with passion. “I W-WON'T GIVE CONSENT, THIS IS RA…” Jimin tries to finish but my gal cuts her, “It's called enlightenment! My appa’s monstrous side has woken up the true me. His cock will wake you up too. Just endure it bestie!” “NO NOO NOOOO!” Jimin shakes her head and throws her hip in the air to break free. I tear both her crop top and bra in one go, her milky white big saggy udders bouncing and shaking side to side.

“DON'T YOU DARE YOU FUCKING MONSTER, YOU INHUMAN DERANGED BASTARD!” Jimin yells at me, her sexy bouncing boobs make those curses too appealing. I grab her legging and panties and tear both apart in one go. Her milky white crotch, nicely shaved cunt, perfect shaped brown labia and glistening pink pussy hole watering my mouth. I pull my boy out my short again, my fully erected thick and longer than average rod in front her eyes blow up any hope of rescue.

“PLEASE I BEG YOU, I won't tell anyone about your taboo. I won't stop being your friend either Minjeong. PLEASE, LET ME GO! You don't have to do this!” With tear streaming from her eyes Karina begs, poor girl. I start rubbing my cock on her pussy lips, sending shivers down her spine before setting my cock at her entrance. “It is not about you finding out about us Jimin. It's about me adopting a new sexual daughter. I WANT YOU GIRLS, BOTH OF YOU! You are too fuckable to give away!” I grin cheek to cheek, then shove my cock all the way in!

“ANGH NNGH AHHH AHH ARGH AHHN FUCK…” Jimin starts crying out loud from the sudden invasion in her pussy, my cock has reached all the way in hitting her uterus. I shove her panty, tops and bra in her mouth as a makeshift gag and start pounding from the get go. Her muffled scream is the melody in my ears. She is not bleeding, meaning unlike Minjeong was, she isn't a virgin. “Look at you hoe, already fucking around everywhere you go huh?” I slap her saggy bouncing udders with some tight sharp slaps, leaving my red handprints on her pristine skin. With every thrust, her lewd moaning sound and muffled scream echoing in the room.

I am kneading and playing with her big boobs and tight nipples with one hand while my other hand is busy fingering her erect clit. After 10 min of nonstop ball deep thrusting and molesting her sexual assets, I cum an average load into her pussy. Aha, my semen getting thinner as I am fucking whole day. But still enough to knock her up. I pull out, some cum starts leaking out her creampied pussy. Minjeong lets Jimin’s hand go and she lies on the bed with a hopeless, convulsing body and devastated expression. She cummed twice since I started to fuck her. Minjeong’s nonstop dirty talk made everything more arousing, for both of us.

Jimin tries to sit up after a while later but I flip her over on her tummy. “You had enough, p-please let me go!” Jimin begs me again. “Call him appa Jimin,” Minjeong hisses close to her ear, “Appa just started. Your ass and mouth coming next. The same way appa fucked all my holes. You are appa’s new woman, just like he made me his!” Jimin’s sweating weak body can't resist much as Minjeong pushes Jimin’s head on her pussy, grinding herself against her face. I align my cock on her asshole and start pushing as hard as I can.

With a little struggle my bulbous head eventually gets past her sphincter. “ARGGGH YOU ARE, YOU ARE BREAKING ME S-STOP!” She is still such a feisty one. “You will love it soon Jimin. Look at your bestie Minjeong, she was like you once. Now she is head over heels for my cock. Enjoy it, for your sake!” I start giving short thrusts, going a little inch inside her hole everytime. Jimin start shrieking in agonizing pain, but Minjeong presses her head on the mattress to muffle her.

It's a little over 9PM. I didn't get much sleep but I think I can still continue a little longer. Minjeong and Jimin have a long night and day ahead of them!

Epilogue:

I had a good night's sleep at last. Well it can't be helped when I literally passed out fucking two of my beautiful daughters, on top of my week long fatigue. Nothing better than sipping my homebrew coffee at the afternoon, after oversleeping and over fucking. Jimin passed out on the floor, I fucked her senseless after I woke up.

Vomit and piss making their way out of her mouthpussy, forced her to drink my morning golden smelly piss like I made Minjeong drink yesterday. I doubled down on her tiny hoe holes using my wife's favorite fat dildo along my cock. So she eventually broke down. My cum pooling under her pussy on the floor. Pee leaking her bladder, her pelvic muscles have given up. She has started to call me appa whenever I ramp up my thrusts, still need some works to make it permanent. Her resistance vanishing in the face of overwhelming pleasure.

And Minjeong? She is being appa’s good bitch and cock warming me after Jimin. Her light figure is bouncing on my cock, riding me like her life depends on it. I am just relaxing back leaning on my sofa, sipping my favorite coffee. Aha, now I have enough motivation to work even harder. I slap Minjeong's booty hard with a loud smack. “Arghh appa, harder harder punish your bad girl!” And so I start drumming her booty with the rhythm of her riding. We three definitely got a wet fucking future ahead.

The End up the birthday hoe's holes! 🖕

[myfriendgoo94]

6 months vs. 18 months on HRT! I love hormones so much 🥹

[hwashitape]

brought a guy into the world but kept drawing him off model. it will probably keep happening

[ash-and-starlight]

you’ve probably gotten a lot of asks like this, but I just haven’t seen any posted. what are your feelings on the remake, if you are watching it? more specifically, what do you think was the biggest problem with it?

i rlly havent actually! i think it's bc im really trying to Pretend I Do Not See It. rn i'm fighting TOOTH AND NAIL against the temptation to hatewatch because i do not need that in my life lmao.

the thing i cannot get over with is how Cheap it looks, it rlly smells of poor rushed workers to me, despite the astronomical budget that went into it. 15 MIL!!??? same as the late seasons of game of thrones!! now i'm not saying GoT is a pinnacle of virtue but it featured: a really good burn scar make up that took up half a character's face, a really good Notorious white hair wig with intricate hairstyles, really good costumes and heavy winter furs, really good location and fantasy beasts cgi and ummmmmmm from what i've seen of natla well. it had nothing of the sort. it's just bad gary it's uglyy

[mxtwister]

Merline DLC please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please

[scarlettcryptid]

someone's probably already pointed this out already, but shigaraki said the same thing that bakugo said to deku before he was taken by the league:

ch. 82 bakugo: 来んな

ch. 416 shigaraki: 来るなあ

(don't come/stay back/stay away)

[kindahoping4forever]

Luke via Shan Rizwan on IG

[coridallasmultipass]

Finally knitted Halloween socks that I've been meaning to knit since I bought this yarn last year!

The yarn is from "SavannahRoseHandmade" from the 90s Halloween Collection (sold out now UGH [understandable, but UGH]) and is visually inspired by the movie Scream (1996). I saw the colour pooling effect on their sample swatch when they shared the yarn collection images on Reddit last year, and was immediately like, 'Holy shit it's just like CRT TV static!!' And I had to get it. (And then life happened and I didn't get around to knitting them until now lol).

And unfortunately, I'm SO IN LOVE WITH IT!! THE EFFECT DID TRANSLATE TO SOCKS AND NOW IT'S LIKE, AHHH I NEED MORE. I don't know if I have enough yarn left to make an additional pair, so I'll have to figure out how to weigh it and the socks and see if the weight compares (really don't wanna end up with 3 socks and not enough for the 4th lol). But yeah. I'm so glad I got to do this. The yarn colouration was SO fun to work with, and the yarn was a nice and smooth 1-ply which was a huge relief from the fluffy yarn on the socks I'd been working on just before this. And yes, I did intentionally take this photo in front of those books because of the spiral-ish pooling.

Can I just also... like... holy fuck, man. I LOVE when yarn pools into unique patterns. It's the best phenomenon ever. And especially like for this one being black and white? That subtle grey transition from stark white to pitch black is EVERYTHING. Like I never would have thought one could create yarn that would pool EXACTLY like TV static rolling down the screen when knit. Major nostalgia vibes. I can feel the forcefield.

Also, started these babies September 27 and finished the second sock today October 3rd, which may be a new record for me knitting socks, I was so fucking excited. I even have a big ole 'writers bump' on my finger from the way I hold my knitting needles lmao (was also knitting a different pair of socks before this, too), and my arthritis is Not happy, but screw you, arthritis! I'M HAPPY.

Side note: it would be cool to pair this yarn with like a red addition somehow. Get a Saw vibe going bc of the TV static pooling effect. (I do love Scream though.) Or you could even probably take it a The Ring route with like a fly applique or something. So many horror movie staples with TV static effect, and not enough Scream yarn to test them out!!

Bonus image when the socks were a WIP:

I had my new tooth and doll eye stitch markers going. I DO have bloody murder weapon stitch markers, but none of them are a buck knife (Ghostface's weapon), so I went for general Halloween vibes instead (even tho I use stitch markers like this year-round lol).

[skitskatdacat63]

Pictures that fuel the 007 vettonso au that exists in my head(for now)

Also go listen to "You Know My Name", and think of Vettonso while doing so because I think it is SOOOOOO them coded(but also f1 in general tbh.) And also if you've seen Casino Royale, hey, remember that chair scene? >:)

[falsechanterelle]