#black glossy cabinets

[migvintof]

Home Bar Single Wall Charleston Example of a mid-sized classic single-wall medium tone wood floor and brown floor wet bar design with an undermount sink, recessed-panel cabinets, black cabinets, granite countertops, black backsplash and stone slab backsplash

[salaishop]

Kitchen - Kitchen Inspiration for a sizable open concept kitchen renovation with a dark wood floor, an undermount sink, black cabinets with recessed panels, stainless steel appliances, an island, and white countertops.

[abidjaner]

Enclosed - Transitional Kitchen Large transitional l-shaped enclosed kitchen plan with terrazzo worktops, a drop-in sink, flat-panel cabinets, white cabinets, black backsplash, white backsplash, mosaic tile backsplash, stainless steel appliances, and an island.

[xbabyjah]

Great Room Kitchen Albuquerque Open concept kitchen - mid-sized modern l-shaped porcelain tile and beige floor open concept kitchen idea with flat-panel cabinets, black cabinets, quartz countertops, white backsplash, stone slab backsplash, black appliances, an island and gray countertops

[ahu-gozlumm]

Kitchen Dining Orange County Eat-in kitchen - large contemporary l-shaped porcelain tile eat-in kitchen idea with a double-bowl sink, flat-panel cabinets, white cabinets, quartzite countertops, white backsplash, mosaic tile backsplash, stainless steel appliances and an island

[heyitswil]

Miami Powder Room Powder room - large contemporary marble floor and white floor powder room idea with flat-panel cabinets, gray cabinets, a wall-mount toilet, onyx countertops, beige walls and white countertops

[ewqjeon]

⚤ LESSON | JJK

pairings: soft dom, stepdad!jungkook x sub!reader

genre: smut

warnings! unprotected sex (wrap it up), cow girl, creampie, slapping, tits play, praise kink, daddy kink, age gap (oc's 18 and jk's 31), use of nicknames, bigdick!jk etc.

Jungkook hums a content noise as he sits idly on the plush, white and ivory colored, L-sofa, arms extended on the top rest with his hands clasped together. His breathing is just a tad unsteady with his body slouched down, his hand palming his hard bulge through his sweatpants.

He seems to still be in his own thoughts, that is until a slight twitch of his cock brings him out of it. He lets out a shaky breath and slowly begins to rub his palm against his bulge. With a small moan and a shake of his head, he stops his movements and stands up from the couch.

Walking over to his bar, filled with a variety of whiskey to tequila and vodka, Jungkook's eyes slowly scan his small selection. He decides to just grab the bottle of tequila.. screw shots.

His sweatpants hang low on his hips as he casually sits down on one of the bar stools. He twists the cap off of the alcohol, bringing the rim of the bottle to his lips and throwing his head back.. letting a generous amount pour down his throat. Jungkook closes his mouth after a few seconds and pulls the bottle away, a gasp following after his deep breathing.

A groan of bliss and relief leaves Jungkook's throat, his eyes closing as his body leans back against the bar stool backrest. He brings the bottle over to his lips once more, another generous amount of the tequila going down his throat. He seems to like the burn of the alcohol going down. His head rests back against the cabinet as his eyes open, a small grin pulling at his lips as he feels the effect of the alcohol in his blood.

"Shit," He chuckles to himself.

He heard the front door slam shut and footsteps approaching. A few seconds later you stood in front of him with a smile on your face.

"Hey, dad." You smile.

"Hello, baby." He speaks up with a small smile. He couldn't help but let his eyes wandern down your body. You're wearing a tight mini leo print dress with matching heels and a black purse. You just came back from the club.

"I don't like that outfit." He says and places his glass down. "It's too short, darling."

Without so much as a minute to respond to his statement, Jungkook stands up and approaches you. He places his large hands onto your hips, lifting you up. His large hand then reaches down to cup your ass, carrying you to the couch.

With a light gasp at being suddenly carried to the couch, you're being pulled on his lap by him, making you straddle his thighs.

A light smile forms on the edge of his lips as his large hands are planted on your lower back, right above your ass. Slowly his grip tightens on you, and that grin on his lips never fades. It doesn't look like he's letting you go anytime soon either, and the sight of his glossy yet dark pupils keep your attention on nothing else but him.

"I don't know how many times I've forbidden you to go out in such short outfit," He starts, his voice low and gravely along with his breath brushing across your lips. "And again and again you rebel against your father. Tsk Tsk Tsk." He shakes his head with a soft smirk and narrowed eyes.

Your breath catches in your throat upon his sudden change of attitude, your lower lip slightly being caught between your teeth as you look up at Jungkook. His eyes are dark, but they shine with a gleam that has you entranced. You're not going anywhere anytime soon, not when he's got you straddled on his lap like it's meant to be. A small shiver crawls down your spine when you feel his grip tighten on your lower back, keeping you firmly seated on his thighs.

"Why am I even surprised? You're a brat, darling, and brats don't follow rules." He leans closer and his lips brush against your cheek bone, leaving a soft and feathery kiss that has your lashes fluttering. "Did you act like a whore in public to get attention, baby? Is that what you wanted, hm?" He whispers against your skin, his breath hot against the shell of your ear before slowly trailing down to the crook of your neck.

With a shiver trailing down your spine from his sensual, low whisper, you swallow thickly and try to ignore the heat starting to pool throughout your body from his words.. and the fact that you're sitting on his lap. Your stepfather's lap, Y/n, get it together.

But oh, it's so hard when the said man that's caressing you has the body of a god. It's even harder when you secretly lust after him in the first place.

With a breathless chuckle against your skin, Jungkook turns his head so his lips are now at your jawline just above your jawline, planting a few gentle and teasing kisses along the length. As he does this, his hands begin to wander around your body, caressing your sides and teasingly grazing over your hips and ass.

"What am I going to do with you, princess? Should teach you some lessons?" He whispers, before finally bringing his face back to look at your flushed face.

You bite down on your lower lip at the sound of his chuckle leaving his soft lips, your breathing becoming erratic and heavy.

The way he speaks.. like he owns you.. you can feel your pussy clenching around nothing in response.

"I-I don't know.." You stutter, a soft and small whine leaving your lips.

Jungkook's dark gaze never falters as he hears the sound of your whine, even when he continues his teasing. His hot breath mingles with your own, and your noses barely meet with the closeness.

"Don't you know what you do to me, baby? How hard it is to keep you and not fuck you every single night? Hm?" He asks quietly, yet still loud enough so it's all you can hear.

Your eyes flutter shut and your heart beats wildly against your chest. Your breathing gets heavier, and you desperately try to think of a coherent response to his question.

"I-I.. um..." is all you can come up with, your breaths shallow and your head feeling dizzy.

His lips pull into a small smirk at your stutter, a quiet snort leaving his own parted lips. His right hand wanders upwards so his thumb can swipe across your lower-red bitten lip, then he brushes your hair away from your forehead.

"You're beautiful, love." He whispers quietly. The gleam in his dark eyes never leaves though, the slight gleam with lust is still there.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks.

Your breathing has your lungs feeling tight, and your heart almost feels like it's swelling at his words and his touch. Your eyes snap open at his question, and you hesitate to answer. This isn't right, he's your stepfather.. Right?

"You don't have to ask..." You mutter before you lean forward and bring your lips to his in a firm kiss, your fingers wrapping around the nape of his neck to pull him closer to you.

With your breathless words, Jungkook groans and instantly leans into your touch. His tongue presses along with your lower lip, asking for permission which you gladly accept.

His left arm remains firmly planted on your ass as his right one moves to cup your cheek, caressing your cheek bone with his thumb with slight hesitancy. His body is warm and firm against your own form, and his breaths are soft and hot.

His tongue soon slides against yours, your eyes shutting close while your fingers tangle in his raven dark locks. You gently pull on them as you feel your lower lip being caught gently between his teeth, a small whimper leaving your own lips at the feeling of his tongue brushing against yours.

His breathing hitches when he feels you pull his hair, his left hand delivering a hard slap onto your ass.

The slap has a gasp of both shock as well as pain leaving your lips in a small whine, the kiss breaking for a moment. With your breathing coming in shallow gasps, your body arches softly when it feels the pain in your ass.

"Mmm, you like that, huh, baby?" He whispers lightly, leaning his face into the crook of your neck and placing a kiss on it.

"Y-Yes." You reply in a breathless murmur, your breathing catching in your throat when you feel his teeth graze over your pulse.

"Good girl." He whispers once again before planting another few kisses along your neck, his teeth grazing your skin and leaving small teeth marks.

You can't help but let his praises affect you, soft sighs leaving your lips as he kisses along your skin. Your breathing quickens when his lips go further down your chest, now making their way down to the valley between your tits.

You don't know what's going on.. you shouldn't be doing this, yet it feels too good to stop. Your fingers tighten in his hair as he pulls your dress down, releasing your breast to him.

"Shit, so fucking pretty." He mumbles. His dark gaze never wavers from you as he stares, his breathing getting slightly heavier while his fingers trace over your breasts. His touch has goosebumps forming on your skin, and you can't help but shiver and arch up against his touch.

"Jungkook..." Your whimper is breathless and needy, your body practically begging him to touch you as the soft whines leave your lips. Your chest rises and falls with each heavy breath, all your thoughts and doubts forgotten as your lust and need take over.

He's entranced as his hands squeeze your tits and his breathing soon catches as he feels his cock harden.

You're his downfall, his breaking point and you have no idea how dangerous that is.

"You're so gorgeous, princess. So pretty for your daddy." he whispers huskily, gently biting down on your exposed shoulder.

"Daddy.. please." You moan, your voice a mixture of both a whine and a needy whisper.

Your body is heated and flushed, your fingers still buried in his soft hair. You feel your pussy getting wetter, making your body arch more into his.

His body tenses when he hears you call him daddy and his grip unconsciously tightening on your breasts. A small groan leaves his lips, low and quiet as he glances at your flushed and needy form.

"Please, what, princess?" He asks huskily, now gently squeezing your breast and swiping his thumb over your pebbled bud.

"Use your words, pretty girl."

"Jungkook.. I need-" You're unable to finish your sentence, a broken whine leaving your lips as soon as you feel Jungkook's thumb swipe over your nipple. Your head is still dizzy, and your own breathing is heavy while your body is almost quivering.

"What do you need, baby? Hm?" He teases, while he continues to toy with your hardened nipple. His touch is light and teasing, his pace slow and torturous along with the smirk on his lips. His face is now buried in the crook of your neck, and his hot breath brushes along your flushed skin.

"Beg." He mutters against your skin.

You whimper at his words, your fingers digging into his hair before finally muttering out the words, "Daddy, please. I need you."

"Please, daddy. Please, daddy please." You start repeating over and over, your head growing more and more dizzy. His touches make you feel dizzy, his voice makes you feel dizzy, the scent of him is dizzying and you're just barely clinging onto reality at this point.

"So desperate, baby girl." He almost smirks while he mutters his words, his thumb brushing over your bud again with a slightly more forceful pressure.

"Please, daddy. Please, fuck me." You whine out, your body aching and your core clenching at the need of his cock.

He pulls his face back from your neck to look at you, his dark gaze taking in the sight of you in all your needy and desperate glory.

"Take my cock out," He says.

You bite down on your lower lip, glancing at him with your hazy gaze before nodding. You kneel in front of him and slowly bring one of your hand to the edge of his pants, your fingers teasing the edge before you hook them around his pants and begin to pull them down.

"Mmm, good girl." He says softly, his breathing still remaining a bit fast as his own dark gaze takes in the sight of you wrapping your small hand around his cock.

He lets out a small quiet groan when he feels your small and cold hand fisting his cock. His abdomen tenses at the cold feeling, a quiet laugh leaving his lips. "Cold hands, huh princess?"

"Mmhm." You hum quietly.

His breath hitches quietly, his cock twitching in your hand as you continue to jerk him off. One of his hands reaches down to pull you off of your knees, his body sitting up more on the couch.

The other hand moves to cup your cheek with a breathless chuckle leaving his lips. "Come here, ride me princess."

As soon as the words leave his lips, your body instantly moves onto his lap, straddling his thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer as you move your panties to the side and sit on his cock. You let out a hiss as his big cock stretches your folds, your head leaning on his shoulder breathing heavily.

"Shit, it's okay baby. Take your time.." He murmurs with a soft moan.

After a few seconds of adjusting you begin to move your hips, slowly grinding against him.

"Like this?" You ask breathlessly, tilting your head slightly with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

"There you go, baby." He sighs and throws his head back, his voice growing breathless as he feels your tight walls squeezing him.

"Now fuck yourself on this dick, baby." He whispers, gently tilting your chin up with his fingers to capture your lips in a hungry and firm kiss.

His lips are just as desperate as your own, and his other hand has already moved behind your back to support you. His touch is possessive as he tightens his grip on you.

The feeling of your body rocking against his own makes him let out a deep groan. Your pussy is warm, your hips moving desperately on his dick while your hands tangle in his hair.

He pulls away after a moment, breathing heavily against your face while his head tilts back on the headrest on the couch behind him. The sound he lets out is low and guttural, and his eyes flutter closed while he grips your waist.

"Ah, Jesus. Look at you." He mutters breathlessly as he glances at your face, the sound of a groan leaving your lips making his breath hitch in his throat.

You whine his name quietly each time the bouncing of your hips brings you closer to a release, and both your breathing and minds are hazy with the heat of the moment.

His fingers slide down your waist until they're on your ass before he smacks it harshly.

The small sting from the slap to your butt only makes you whine louder, your breathing becoming more desperate as each gasp of air that leaves your lips brings you closer to your high.

"D-daddy, please- please." You manage to let out between heavy breaths, your body nearly quivering with a mixture of both pleasure and anticipation.

His own body is practically quivering as well, his breathing only growing raspier and more desperate with each sharp breath he takes between each kiss that he presses against your mouth.

"Use your words, princess." He mutters against your lips while his hands grip your waist, making you roll your hips again with the force of his grip.

Your body arches against him with a whine, and you barely manage to mutter out "don't stop, don't stop." at his words.

You're so close, you can feel it. Your abdomen only grows tighter as you continue to whine and rock your hips, and the feel of his hot skin and his hands on you only heightens the sensations.

"Am I riding you better than mom?"

Jungkooks body nearly stills and his breath hitches at your words, a groan leaving his lips as you rock down on him again, your words only fueling his own excitement as the fire in the pit of his abdomen burns.

"Yes, baby. You're so much better. So much better." He breathes against your neck, sinking his teeth into your skin and biting down hard as he feels his own self begin to unravel.

Your whole body shivers at the feeling of his teeth biting in your neck, your hips stuttering slightly on his lap as you feel your orgasm right around the corner.

You barely manage to breathe out "Daddy, gonna- gonna-" before you fall apart on him, your whole body shuddering and quivering as your nails dig into his shoulders.

The feeling of you falling apart on top of him is enough to send him over the edge as well, his whole body tensing before he comes inside you. He lets out a low groan against your chest as his hips press against you, thrusting harshly, every muscle in his body tensing and straining with every wave of his own release.

Your name falls from his lips in a breathy whisper, the sound a mixture of your name and a curse.

Your cheek resting on his shoulder as you both breathe heavily in a state of bliss. Your body is still quivering slightly, your mind still trying to return to reality. You feel warm and dizzy, almost like you’re high.

His fingertips trace a gentle pattern over your back as he lets out a quiet chuckle. “You still with me princess?”

You're unable to speak, your mind still fuzzy from your orgasm as you nod your head with a small hum. "Mmm.. I'm here." You say quietly, your words slightly slurred as you keep your cheek resting on his shoulder.

He runs his fingers through your now messy hair, a small smile on his lips as he looks down at your hazy and dazed form. "Well.. welcome back, baby." He says with a small chuckle.

[margarita-cansino]

DC Metro Kitchen Pantry

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

SCAREDY CAT

KINKTOBER DAY 14 - PET PLAY WITH JONATHAN CRANE

Pairing.| Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

Summary.| You are Catwoman, you’ve heard word of Scarecrow’s fear toxin and want it for yourself. However he had already anticipated this and desired a kitten of his own.

Warnings.| Dubcon, p in v, head f!receving, rough sex. scratching, pet play (not extreme), stockholm syndrome, abduction, drugging, pet names.

Word Count.| 2.3k

Notes.| I really did have the most fun writing my Jonathan stories, I won't lie. But this one is for you my love, @paradiseprincesss

Jonathan huffed as he slammed the door behind him, He shook his damp, dark hair, droplets of rain sprinkling onto his clean floors and walls as he slid off his coat. After a long draining day at work, there was only one thing that could make him feel better. Relaxing with his kitten. But returning home always started off as a game of hide and seek.

As he called out your name, his voice echoed down the hall. There was never a blissful response from you. After taking off his shoes and neatly placing them by the door, Jonathan picked up his briefcase and wandered down the floorboards in search of you. “Here, kitty kitty” Jonathan clicked his tongue as he dropped his suitcase on the kitchen table. 

Poking his head around many rooms, he ended up in his office, smiling as he spotted you from the gap under his desk. Not wanting to frighten you, he called out your name calmingly. Turning the corner, he poked his head underneath his desk. A wide cheshire cat smile grew on his lips. “There you are kitten” Jonathan chuckled at you, his head tilted and blue eyes wide as he looked down at you.

Once upon a time, you were the infamous Catwoman of Gotham City. The rumors of a mad Doctor possessing an anxiogenic drug which induces intense irrational fear to its users felt too good to be true. In Gotham City, you had too many enemies. Getting your paws on that toxin would literally scare those enemies far away. 

The plan was foolproof, break into his office and still a couple (or more) of doses. Arkham Asylum was a nuthouse, the Doctor would never have any time to reside in his office, surely. But, your accomplice ratted you out for an easy paycheck. Turns out that the Doctor of Fear admired your work immensely, and found joy in you wanting a taste of his fear toxin, so he obliged in that personally. 

Jonathan kept you in a hidden room in the asylum for weeks, months even. His other patients lacked treatment on his behalf, because he was too obsessed with experimenting with you. However, when he’d return home after a long day, he found himself missing you. The big house he comfortingly slept alone in, suddenly felt empty. So, he trained you to act more domestically for him. This way he’d be able to focus on his other areas of work and feel the gleeful emotions of coming home. 

Therefore, you were curled up into a ball up against the wooden boarding as you batted your glossy eyes at him. Wearing nothing more than a short black skirt, cropped white blouse and black collar with a clear jewel dangling from it. The heating wasn’t on so Jonathan pouted his sympathy for your coldness as your body shivered. He should have dressed you warmer for today. 

With his hand out towards you, as if you call you towards him, Jonathan made kissy noises. Fingers rubbing together, Jonathan tilted his head forward, a warning for if he had to crawl under to get to you. Gradually, you got on all fours and crawled out from the desk.

“Let’s take your medication” Jonathan announced as he opened his arms for you. 

Timidly, you reached out for him and he lifted you up, your legs wrapped around the small of his back as he carried you to the kitchen, your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck as he hummed in satisfaction. His hand rested just below your bare ass, Jonathan didn’t want you to ever wear panties. 

Placing you on top of the island in the kitchen, he pulled a key out of his pocket for a locked hanging cabinet. He unlocked the door and retrieved a small white plastic pill container. To accompany your medicine, he grabbed a fresh water bottle from the fridge and cracked it open. Willingingly, you drank from the water bottle and slipped the blue pill into your mouth, swallowing it after a few seconds. Cautiously, Jonathan inspected your mouth, nodding his head with a wide grin of satisfaction afterwards. 

He didn’t want to, but he had to keep you drugged up. Because one time you almost scratched his eyes out. The faint scar on his left cheekbone can prove that. Even though Jonathan admired your robustness, he couldn’t risk going to work with a clawed up face everyday. So, he produced a unique sedative mixed with a sliver of fear toxin to keep you physically delayed like a fat cat. But mentally on all four paws, just like a scaredy cat. 

The variation of the fear toxin was intriguing however. Whenever Jonathan displayed negative emotions towards you, his figment would appear sinister. Yet, if he was warm towards you, the illusion of him would urge the thought of being looked after by him. 

Jonathan looked at the cat bowl on the floor, still full of the food he filled it with this morning. Slowly his eyes turned back onto you and you hid your face in between your hands. His fingertips slipped underneath your collar as he pulled your neck closer to him. 

“You haven’t eaten today, kitten?” Jonathan cocked an eyebrow at you, sighing softly in disappointment. 

“The medicine rids my appetite” you mumbled, your voice hoarse due to a lack of speaking. Sniffling at him, you felt the fresh dose of fear toxin prick at your nerves. 

“Bad kitty, what did I tell you?” Jonathan tutted towards you, his voice turned sinister as the toxin took effect. 

“But it makes me feel sick” you whimpered back, blinking your prickling eyes at him. 

“Because you haven’t eaten properly in days” he shot back harshly, his white fangs flaring at you. It was the toxin, but you always struggled to see the lining between real and illusion.  

However, it was more so weeks, months, since the moment of your abduction really… This new accidental diet of yours has made you drop a fair amount of weight. The drugs suppress your appetite frequently, not that you were ever keen to be on all fours as you ate below him. 

You tried to slip off the bench, a growing urge to satisfy him by forcing the food down your tightening throat. But Jonathan blocked you in between him with his arms. 

“No, no… It’d be stale and sickening now. Gonna have to wait until dinner time kitten” Jonathan explained, his nose running up your neck slowly as he inhaled your scent. 

Goosebumps populated over your cold skin. The sound of his breathing echoed down your eardrums as you closed your eyes. Gently, Jonathan kissed your jawline, casually making his way over to your soft lips. The kiss was passionate yet tender. Hesitantly, your arms wrapped around his upper back. When he didn’t react, you tightened the hold, exhaling in relief. 

“Was thinking of just ordering something in, I can’t be bothered cooking tonight, it was such a stressful day kitten, work can be really draining sometimes” Jonathan spoke in between kisses. 

Honestly, he didn’t have much of an appetite either. His hunger was craving you instead. With his hands running over your bare stomach, your ass slipped to the edge, legs wrapping around his stomach due to his shorter height. 

“I can cook something for you” you offered in a shaking voice, your hands holding onto his upper body for support. Jonathan cocked an eyebrow to you and pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

“Really? Oh that would be so kind of you, my good kitty” Jonathan complimented as he brushed your hair behind your ears.  

You’d need his assistance, or at least to be watched over. He still didn’t trust you, especially with a knife in arms reach. But the thought of you willingly wanting to do something for him was sweet. Speaking of sweet- 

“Let your owner feel your sweet pussy” Jonathan grumbled as bent over his body, hands cupping underneath your cheeks. 

“Yes Jonathan” you sighed, propping your elbows behind you in support. 

Jonathan bent his hip down as he admired your pussy, his own claws dug into your outer thighs. Firstly, he deeply breathed in your sweet scent. Then stubbornly, his tongue ran up and down your cunt. Jonathan was always too eager to eat you out. The skills and methods of his tongue could not be taught. This was pure talent which could never be duplicated. It was humiliating to admit that Jonathan was your best lover. The cocky bastard knew he was as well, no other man would even try to compete if they saw the movements of his tongue alone. 

You never bothered to shy away from your moans. Jonathan told you from the beginning that you might as well make the best out of your new living conditions. Your nails scratched over the marble as you tried to find something to grip onto. Needily, your hands slipped into his dark locks, tugging roughly at his roots. 

“You like this, yeah? Being taken care of by me?” Jonathan groaned against your cunt, his cock desperately twitching in his pants as his hips squirmed. 

You quickly nodded your head to him, purring out your answer. But you whined out when his cold lips popped off of your dripping lips. His lean body raised up, already smirking at you as he unbuckled his belt. As you propped yourself back onto your elbows, Jonathan’s pants dropped to his knees, his boxers scrunched up at his mid thigh as he stroked his cock slowly. You’re pulled off the island and flipped around, your chest pressed into the cold marble as you stood on your tippy toes. 

“Yeah… You love my big cock too don’t you?” Jonathan murmured as he lined up his throbbing length to your entrance. 

“Yes Jonathan, I love your cock so much” you purred deeply. 

With a cheeky grin, Jonathan pushed his tip inside of you. After a few seconds of smiling to yourselves, Jonathan pushed himself into your warmth, inch by inch. Biting at his lower lip, his hands rested on your lower back, ready to pound into you as if life depended on it. 

When he did commence his rough thrusts, your arms snaked back to hold your hips up as your claves felt like they were on fire. Jonathan huffed and flipped you around once more. As you were pulled up by your thighs, you wrapped your calves around his lower back as yours was shoved into the edge of the bench. Hissing out, your hands slid up the back of his button up shirt. Your claws dug into his bare back, Jonathan snarled out, but the smile was euphoric. The sound of his balls slapping against your sensitive skin echoed throughout the kitchen. The both of you were panting as you felt your orgasm climb up your walls. 

“Ugh! I’m so glad you broke into my office! Can’t believe the infamous catwoman fell into my arms. I couldn’t report you, no, no… They’d treat you like an animal” Jonathan whined out, his cock twitched in your velvet walls. 

Being his little pet was a privilege, in his devilish blue eyes at least. He’d feed you (as if he’s drug wasn’t an issue), bathe you, cloth you (sort of), caress you and most importantly, fuck you. Everyday he’d make sure that you’d experience multiple orgasms. Because his kitten deserved the finest life. 

All you had to do was, well, act like a cat for the most part. Yes, there were times where he would allow your humanity to show by walking on two feet, or eating at the dining table. And gosh, he'd never by a bag of cat litter for you. But Jonathan wanted you to stick to your alter ego. Some days he’d let you wear your mask, just to remind you of your past. My, sometimes he'd even wear his own mask too to really get into the scene of it all. It was tormenting however, it made you want to search for a way out of this prison. But you knew the consequences of that by now. If you were disobedient, he’d discipline you, more humanly though. A proper spanking always got his point across. 

Jonathan liked to have you sleep at the end of his bed every night. On some nights -if he was feeling rather generous- he’d allow you to crawl up and sleep on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat easily got you to sleep. He’d often wake up to you purring against his chest. 

Yes, being Jonathan’s kitten wasn’t your worst outcome. It was thoughtful of him, to indulge in your past life. It was much better than being one of his patients in Arkham, that's for sure. Gotham City was a fearful city, he was just protecting you from the many dangers at the end of the day. You were his to protect now, to love and own. 

That mind of his was ingenious, he always knew how to time it for you both to finish in unison. Jonathan moaned out as his ropes of white shot deep into your canal, his head fell against your neck as he suckled at your heated skin. You held onto him for dear life, feeling the aftermath waves of pleasure from your own orgasm. The fresh claw marks would add to the personal art piece of your creativity. But Jonathan loved it, his back and his chest were the only areas he gave you permission to mark. 

As Jonathan took in a deep breath, he lifted his head from the crook of your neck and lowered you to your feet. Jonathan smiled down at you as he readjusted his glasses, lenses all foggy from your activity. You nuzzled your nose against his face, a soft smile on your lips. 

“Come on then kitty, make us a lovely meal before I get hungry for you again” he purred by your ear.

[katsumiiii]

hobie brown x gn! reader

um hobie definitely would love for his s/o to paint his nails. like I don’t think he would go out of his way to beg for you to do so, but if you offered he would def be like “sure, don’t see why not.” even let’s you pick out wtv color you want, like it doesn’t have to be black, it could be a cutesy yellow or blue (I feel like he’s secure within himself enough to not be one of those men that would fuss about it yk?? like he’s in touch with his feminine and honestly couldn’t give a shit what smb else would have to say abt it).

like let’s say you just got some new polish from the beauty supply store, a cute vibrant blue and a mute sage greenish, and ever since you purchased them you’d been thinking about painting hobie’s nails. you’d come up with this whole plan about how to ask, and even thought about begging a bit if he refused, maybe a cute little pout to guilt him into it, but to your surprise he didn’t even put up a fight ??? just told you to get out whatever color you wanted and start painting.

“hobieeeeee!” you drawled on, crawling on the  mattress below you, wiggling your hips once you reached hobie’s lap. peaking out from behind his phone, he raised an eyebrow in curiosity, allowing you to take his fingers and pry them from his device.

“yeah? wha’ you what?” he quirked his head to the side, eyes trailing the slight lift of your shirt, revealing the dangling belly piercing he gave you about 3 weeks ago.

“I was wonderinggg if you would let me..” you inched closer to his face, pouting your bottom lip.

“get on wit’ it love, don’t got all day.” hobie watched as you inspected his cuticles, growing impatient at your stalling (and partially because he wanted a kiss, but you were too busy ogling at his fingertips to notice).

“can I please paint your nails?” you asked, playfully batting your eyelashes.

“eh? that’s all you wanted?” hobie rolled his eyes, shifting his hips to scooch you closer to his abdomen, “wha’ color are you thinkin’?”

“wait really? all I had to do was ask..?”

“yeah? I don’t care bout none of that stuff, long as you like the color.” he trailed circles on your palm, gaze lingering at your glossy lips, licking his own at the sight.

you squealed in delight, intertwining your fingers with his own, “so I was thinking this cute navy blue I got! I don’t think sage would suit you as well, but I kind of want to match too because that would be so cute!!” you droned, listing out the possibilities.

“mhm.” hobie hummed.

“but maybe…because I have this dark red in my nail cabinet that I think would look good! just screams you.” you continued.

“mhm.” hobie tightened his grip on your hips.

“bee? you listening?” you leaned your head to the side, blinking at his gleaming gaze.

“yeah yeah, jus’ come gimme a kiss.” he mumbled, pinching your chin, dragging your face closer to his.

“did you hear anything I said?”

“yes babe, now please, ‘m dying here.”

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Lively, colorful, 1911 Mediterranean Revival townhouse in Washington, DC has 4bds, 4ba, $5.4m.

As you may know by now, that door would have to go, as far as I'm concerned. Why do they even make doors like that? Just bust the glass, put your hand in, and open the lock. Why even have a lock?

The first room off the entrance hall is a sitting room with a cool yellow fireplace with black & white marble.

The dining room is a bright orange with a bronze ceiling, which is interesting.

They painted the cabinets a glossy bright blue and changed out hardware.

This family room is a part of the kitchen and has doors to the patio. The wallpaper on the feature wall is very interesting.

Pretty powder room. Look at how small the sink is.

The stairs to the upper levels are in the middle of the home.

They've got the primary bedroom done in a bright royal blue.

And, they also have a large closet.

This is beautiful- a terrace.

Nice shower room.

At the end of the hall is this nice large family room. Love the fireplace.

Cute bedroom is quite roomy.

The secondary bedrooms are surprisingly large.

Nice updated vintage bath.

Stairs to the lower floor.

Nice room.

The 4th bedroom is down here with a door to the outer entrance. It's lovely down here.

There's even a little kitchenette and a bath.

It has a beautiful backyard and parking.

And, out front there's a lovely garden.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/2343-Ashmead-Pl-NW-Washington-DC-20009/461809_zpid/

[somedaythesun]

TS2 Maxis-Match Lingerie Store Set

Hello, I'm still alive! I had to take a long break from Simming, but I've finally finished this collection and wanted to release it.

Reintroducing Bella's Secret lingerie store set by RetailSims! Now available in sweet pink or spicy black motifs. Featuring more objects than you'll know what to do with :D

There are four Maxis-match sets in this collection: the K&B lingerie set (3 colors), a new bra mesh using the Freetime sewing machine dress textures (6 colors!), the K&B camisole set (3 colors), and the Basegame slip nighties (4 colors).

For the mannequins and the furniture, I wanted to capture that high-gloss look that a lot of lingerie stores use, and I discovered that the perfect in-game texture was…the grand piano?? So all the display objects are repo'd to that object and come in either glossy black or white (or whatever other recolors you may have). The velvet panels are either pink or red and are recolorable.

The shelving unit is actually three distinct pieces: a panty/bra counter with 15(!) slots you can fill, a double row wall display rack (15 slots), and a single row wall display rack for longer hanging items (8 slots). These live in Surfaces > Shelves for §241.

All of the hanging items can be hung on your Sim's wall for decoration, but they are also aligned to perfectly slot into the wall racks. I personally find it relaxing to fill up the display cabinets, and you can mix and match to your heart's content! You'll find all the clothing in General > Dressers for §18.

I also made some objects to sit on the countertops or in the drawers. Everything is repo'd to a parent object to reduce file sizes, so if you're interested in recoloring the lingerie, check the filenames for the PARENT objects and you'll be able to make your own varieties.

Lastly, I recreated RetailSims's shop sign, but this time in Simlish. I did my best to keep the polycount as low as possible, but be warned it's still high poly. It spans 6 tiles and is EXTREMELY shiny. Comes in black or white! Found in Deco > Wall for §800

I highly recommend you get RetailSims's original wallpapers (archive link to the dead site is here). All original idea credit goes to RetailSims, I just fell in love with their set years ago and wanted to refresh it to match the game's original aesthetics.

Download

I may need to disappear offline for another lengthy break, but I'll stick around for a few days after I post this to check for any problems, so let me know if anything isn't working your game. Enjoy!

[tinyundercover]

pepper & felix

part sixteen

SURPRISE MF its out a day early

MASTERPOST word count: 4.7k

“Sit still,” Pepper murmured, brow furrowed with focus. 

On the end table next to Felix’s couch, Pepper sat cross-legged, a miniature paintbrush held in both hands. In front of him, Felix’s long fingers rested, splayed out on the end table, and from the couch Felix rested his chin on the back of his other hand, observing the borrower’s movements.

After dipping his paintbrush into the open bottle of nail polish next to him, Pepper returned to painting Felix’s nail, completely covering it in black polish. 

Felix hummed, lifting his head from his hand. “It looks good!” He experimentally moved his fingers, all five nails now jet black and glossy.

Pepper sent him a glance, twisting to search for another paintbrush. An array of art supplies sat next to him, an awkward blend of human-sized and borrower-sized materials. When Pepper finally found a plastic sheet of tiny silver gems, he announced, “I’m not done yet.”

“I figured.” The human let out a laugh and rested his cheek on his other hand, draped over the arm of the couch. The nails there were already finished, painted black and decorated in silver gems.

Felix, originally, had been a little apprehensive when Pepper had asked to paint his nails. He had worried that Pepper would grow bored or exhausted with the task, but the borrower insisted, treating Felix’s nails like any one of his other art projects.

The human didn’t paint his nails that often, but when he did, he gravitated towards his usual simple, soft colors— gray, pale blue, or white. Pepper had taken the liberty to find the black nail polish that Felix had bought but never touched, tucked away in a cabinet underneath Felix’s bathroom sink, and Felix couldn’t find it within his heart to refuse.

Pepper’s excitement had actually been adorable. Felix was aware that Pepper enjoyed being artistic, but the human didn’t get to see that side of him often, as most of Pepper’s art projects were constructed in the privacy of his little home. Besides, the microscopic size of his journals meant that Felix wouldn’t be able to see the details, anyways, which inwardly disappointed the human. He wished that he could support Pepper’s artistic endeavors the same way that Pepper regularly supported Felix’s passion for music.

Serving as a blank canvas felt like a fair compromise. Felix leaned into his sleeve, heart fluttering, watching as Pepper carefully pressed a silver gem into the center of his ring finger’s nail. The borrower’s gaze was intense and focused, as if this was the most important thing he had ever done. Felix did his best to keep his hand still.

Pepper worked diligently, tiny hands dancing delicately over Felix’s fingertips. As he decorated the rest of Felix’s fingers with silver, the borrower’s satisfaction visibly grew, until he finally finished with the last gem on Felix’s thumb. 

Felix blinked curiously as the borrower pushed himself to his feet, proudly gesturing to the fingers below him. “Now we’re done!”

Mindful not to bump into Pepper, Felix held both hands above the end table, eyebrows high as he examined his nails. Silver gems glimmered up at him, more symmetrical than he would have been able to achieve on his own. The black nail polish underneath was bold, and definitely not a color he was used to wearing, but it was growing on him.

It was hard to dislike anything that clearly brought Pepper so much joy. The borrower was trying to play it cool, crossing his arms, but the excited rocking of his heels was anything but subtle. “What do you think?”

Felix wiggled his fingers. “They look amazing,” he breathed, pulling his gaze away from the detailed designs to admire his soulmate. “Thank you! I— this is incredible!”

Pepper fought a grin, ducking his head. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Seriously, I love it,” Felix pressed, beaming. “I wish I could do your nails.”

Pepper snorted at the absurdity. He held his hands out in a similar fashion to Felix, splaying his hands in front of his face. Felix couldn’t even see his nails, let alone try and paint them. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

Felix laughed lightly as Pepper began to organize his things, dropping his gray gaze to the pile of art supplies. After a moment of silence Felix spoke up, observing the delicate movements of Pepper’s hands.

“I, um…” A nervous feeling danced around Felix’s throat, restricting his words. Pepper peered up at him, expression nonchalant, closing the bottle of nail polish. The glass bottle reached his shoulder.

Felix exhaled, glancing down at his freshly painted nails. “I was wondering if, uh— if you’d want to go out on a date. Like, a real date.”

His hesitant words made Pepper freeze, tiny hands jerking away from the bottle. Felix felt a pink tinge creeping into his face, and he cleared his throat, rushing to explain. “Only if you want to. We don’t have to go out in public, or anything. It’s up to you.”

Silence stretched for a second too long, as Pepper stared up at him, gray eyes enormous. Felix was just about to haphazardly change the subject when Pepper finally responded, voice breathy. “Yeah. I want to.”

Felix blinked in response, heart jumping. He had been terrified that Pepper would refuse, offended at the idea that there might be something even slightly romantic between them— but clearly they were on the same page. It brought a warm feeling of relief into Felix’s chest.

The human ducked his head, suddenly embarrassed to face the borrower. “Oh! Okay, ah— good! Would tomorrow night be okay with you?”

Felix tried to keep his face light and casual, not wanting to reveal that he had already checked tomorrow’s weather repeatedly and had been purposely keeping his Thursday night open for several days now. To his relief, Pepper nodded vigorously, tiny hands fumbling.

“Yes. That sounds perfect.”

—

Pepper had never been on a date in his life, let only on a date with a human.

Four days ago, Pepper had given Felix a kiss on the nose. He had been emboldened by a surge of confidence, but his confidence had dissipated rapidly over the next few days. Neither of them mentioned that kiss— much like how they hadn’t mentioned Felix’s drunk kiss. Felix, honestly, didn’t seem to be treating Pepper any differently, and Pepper had started to wonder if maybe he had taken things too far too quickly.

But Felix had asked him out a date.

Pepper’s heart raced. He exhaled, dragging his hands down his face. On the floor of his room, his clothes were strewn around him in haphazard piles.

“I’ve literally kissed him,” Pepper mumbled to himself, digging through a pile of shirts. “He’s kissed me. This isn’t a big deal.”

Still, the fear of the unknown was difficult to combat. Pepper didn’t even know where they were going yet.

After struggling for twenty minutes, Pepper finally settled on a plain black crewneck and baggy blue pants, not unlike the cargo pants that Basil usually wore. He didn’t have a lot of nice clothes, but he figured this was good enough.

Right on cue, Felix’s voice filtered into his mind. “Hey, I just got home from rehearsal. Do you want to meet in the kitchen in… maybe half an hour?”

“Sure,” Pepper responded, trying to sound nonchalant despite the racing of his heart. “See you then.”

Pepper suddenly wished he had a phone, so that he could call Basil at her place in the lounge and tell her what was going on. He didn’t know much about how phones worked, but it would be nice to have one right now.

He spent the next fifteen minutes pacing around his room, smoothing his clothes, double-checking his bag, before finally deciding that he should make his way to the kitchen. He sent a quick telepathic message to Felix that he was on his way before he slipped into the long passageways of the walls.

When Pepper emerged from behind the toaster, Felix wasn’t there yet. Being alone in the kitchen somehow comforted Pepper and worsened his fears at the same time. 

It wasn’t exactly a secret that he and Felix were advancing onto romantic territory, and had been for a couple weeks, but it still left Pepper feeling dizzy. He had absolutely no experience with romance at all, and his little knowledge of how soulmates worked didn’t help the situation.

Basil had talked with him about it, explaining that some people ignored their soulmates altogether, while others found their platonic best friend in their soulmate and searched for romance elsewhere. That only confirmed Pepper’s fear that Felix would never choose to be with a borrower if he didn’t have to.

But, no— Felix had asked him out on a date.

The exhilarating feeling returned, leaving Pepper rocking on his toes, heart racing. He pulled at the threads of his crewneck, which were a bit loose, considering that he had merely thrown this sewing project together a few weeks ago.

At the sound of Felix’s footsteps approaching, Pepper straightened up, listening intently. His gray eyes were wide and curious as Felix finally stepped into the room, his towering height sending a fluttery feeling down the borrower’s spine.

Over a white button-up, Felix wore a black sweater vest. In addition to his black dress pants, the human was wearing a much darker palette than usual, which surprised Pepper somewhat, and the borrower could only wonder if he had intentionally chosen these black clothes in order to match his dark nails. Pepper’s first thought was that it was an incredibly sweet gesture.

His second thought was that black was a very flattering color on Felix.

The stark contrast between the darkness of his clothes and his light skin and features left Pepper feeling dizzy, oddly enough. Fighting the heat growing in his face, the borrower nodded politely, crossing his arms. “You look nice.”

A breathy laugh escaped Felix, moving closer. “Thanks. You too.”

Pepper didn’t hesitate to step onto Felix’s hand when he offered it. Throwing his hands out to balance, he peeked up at Felix. “Where are we going, by the way?”

Felix flushed, glancing away as he brought Pepper up to his left shoulder. The borrower watched him quizzically as he scrambled up onto the knitted material of Felix’s vest. “I actually want to keep it a surprise, if that’s okay.”

Pepper raised his eyebrows, suddenly anxious— but Felix knew better than anyone not to put Pepper in danger. “Oh!” He kept his voice playful. “You won’t even tell me a little bit?”

Felix shrugged, jostling the borrower momentarily. After offering a quick apology for the movement he responded, “Well— we’ll have to drive there. Is that okay?”

Pepper had already accepted that a car ride would be very likely. He nodded. “Yeah, no worries.”

In the next few minutes, as they made their way through the apartment building, Pepper could only wonder where they could possibly be going. The only time he had left the apartment recently (willingly) had been to accompany Felix to his audition.

Honestly, Pepper wasn’t really even sure what humans did with their time. Felix didn’t seem to be as crafty as Pepper, which made sense, considering the vast difference in what the two of them needed to do to survive. Pepper enjoyed sewing as a hobby, but at its core, it was a survival tactic for him. 

Felix’s hobbies revolved around music, which made Pepper wonder if they were possibly going to some sort of music performance. He had enough common sense to understand that humans played music for each other, much like how Felix sang onstage. Curious, and a little baffled, Pepper sank closer to Felix’s neck.

The sun beamed down on the two of them as they stepped outside into the parking lot. Self-conscious, Pepper clung to Felix’s silver hoop earring, gaze dancing. There were no other humans around, but he still felt overwhelmed in such an open space.

“How is Basil doing?” Felix asked as they approached his car. Pepper had only been inside it once, when Felix had rescued him and Basil from their kidnapping. “Settling in okay?”

The polite question helped to ease the tension between them. Pepper nodded, subconsciously tightening his grip on Felix’s earring as the human opened the car door with an unfathomable amount of casual strength. “Yeah, she’s doing really good, actually. Her room in the lounge is really coming together.”

The borrower smiled, recalling how he had spent the entirety of his Monday helping Basil to organize her new space. He knew from experience that the first few weeks of moving somewhere new could be emotionally draining, so he had been happy to help. “Her room finally looks like a home now, you know? It started off as this dark, dusty, empty space, but now it’s super cozy. She even took an old scarf from the lost and found and made some tapestries out of it to put around her room.”

“Aw, good! I’m glad things are going well for her.” Felix expressed his approval as he slid into the driver’s seat, careful not to jostle Pepper. His blue eyes were kind as they settled on Pepper’s reflection in the side mirror. “How often do borrowers move? It can’t be easy, right?”

Pepper hummed curiously, settling into the crook of Felix’s neck. Felix hadn’t made any indication to move Pepper down to the passenger seat, so the borrower got comfortable where he was. He paused to let the initial roar of the engine die down before he responded, gazing out into the parking lot as the car rolled into movement. “We don’t move around a lot, usually, but it depends.”

After a beat, Felix asked, “Where did you live before?”

“Your apartment is my third home,” Pepper explained, entranced by the movement outside. “I grew up in a bakery. It was this little place on a street corner, with all these cute green and pink decorations. It was nice, but it’s kind of a tradition for borrowers to move out of their childhood home once they’re an adult, so when I was nineteen, I moved into a new house— but the couple that lived there started setting out mouse traps, so I left. I moved into your apartment a little over a year ago, when I turned twenty-one.”

Felix’s eyebrows were high. He briefly pulled his gaze from the road to observe Pepper in the mirror. “You’ve lived in my apartment for a year?”

Pepper blinked. He supposed he hadn’t revealed the exact timeline before. “I guess I have.”

“Huh… I can’t believe I never noticed you.”

Pepper almost snickered. “Not being noticed is kind of the whole borrower thing, man.”

Felix released a sheepish laugh at that. “Right. Of course.” After a moment he added, “I’m glad I met you, though. Even if I wasn’t supposed to.”

Pepper smiled, absentmindedly threading his fingers into Felix’s vest.  “Yeah. Me too.” He decided not to make a snarky comment about the unfavorable circumstances in which they met, basking instead in their shared warm moment.

“You’ve mentioned the bakery before,” Felix added after a quiet minute of driving. “You grew up there with Basil, right?”

“Yep.” Pepper admired the buildings whizzing past them, bright and enormous. “She’s six years older than me, so she kind of took care of me.”

Felix’s brow furrowed out that. He looked as if he wanted to ask more, but changed his mind, nodding in response. Pepper blinked.

He had never really brought up his family to Felix— not only because it had never come up, but because he didn’t have much to say. His father had died shortly after Pepper was born, so he didn’t remember much about him aside from the brief feeling of comforting hands on his shoulders and warm, brown eyes. 

His mother, on the other hand, had left unexpectedly in the midst of Pepper's childhood. The rest of Pepper’s teenage years had been spent with Basil— then by himself, once Basil had inevitably moved out. 

“You have a sister, too, right?” Pepper finally asked, changing the subject. “What’s she like?”

Felix smiled. “Her name’s Kelsey. She’s really funny, and she’s so sweet. I think you’d really like her.”

Pepper blinked at that. It hadn’t really occurred to him until now that he might have to meet Felix’s family at some point, as absurd as it sounded. 

He vaguely remembered seeing Kelsey once or twice, when she had visited Felix’s apartment over the past year. She looked a lot like her brother, lanky and blonde, aside from the bright streaks of pink in her hair. Of course, back then, Pepper had never stuck around either of the humans long enough to get a read on their personalities.

“Does she do theater too?”

“Yeah, actually. For her it’s more of a hobby— she’s gonna go to college for economics— but theater definitely runs in the family.” Felix smiled. “She’s auditioning for Legally Blonde soon.”

“That’s a kind of musical?” 

“Oh— yeah. It’s a really good one.”

Pepper beamed, oddly proud that he had made the connection. It was nice to finally have a grasp on how human theater worked. “Well, wish her luck for me.”

Until Felix’s car pulled into the largest parking lot Pepper had ever seen, the borrower hadn’t realized how much time had passed. Suddenly remembering that they were on a date, Pepper straightened up, curious.

He examined the enormous gray building in front of them, brow furrowed. With a distinct lack of windows, the building was comparable to a cement brick. “Where are we?”

Felix parked the car. His black nails danced over the steering wheel, hesitant. “An art museum.”

Curiosity flickered in Pepper’s chest, and he leaned forward, searching the bland gray building. “Oh! It’s got a bunch of human art in it, right? Like, paintings, and stuff?”

Felix relaxed microscopically at Pepper’s positive response. “Yeah. I just figured you might be interested in this, because you’re so artsy, and stuff— is this okay? Do you want to go?”

“Yeah!” Pepper’s heart positively melted at the considerate gesture from Felix. “Yes, absolutely! Except— are there a lot of humans in there, usually?”

Felix shook his head, smiling. “It won’t be crowded, and if we do see people, we can avoid them. I checked online and they’re usually not busy on Thursday nights.” He hesitated briefly as he shut the car off. “Although, when we first go in, you might have to hide hide. Just for a few minutes.”

“That’s okay.” Pepper’s gaze danced down, searching for Felix’s messenger bag, but it wasn’t in the car. “Oh.”

Felix seemed to be hit with the same realization. The human pursed his lips, subconsciously patting himself down. “Oh,” he echoed.

Peering down the towering length of Felix’s torso, Pepper registered that he didn’t have any pockets on him, either. The borrower tilted his head, running his hand over the color of Felix’s white button-up.

When he had accompanied Felix to his audition, he had wedged himself between the folds of the fabric on Felix’s shoulder in order to remain hidden. However, if Felix needed to talk directly to another human in order to get into the museum, a simple fabric fold wouldn’t be enough to hide Pepper.

With a strike of inspiration, Pepper straightened up. “It’s okay— I can just…”

He faltered, self-conscious about what he was about to suggest. Meeker than before, continued, “I can just hide in your sleeve— you know, in your hand?”

He had been ready to announce the idea before he had even considered being scared. Hiding, trapped in Felix’s hand, with no knowledge of what was going on outside— it was a terrifying situation to put himself in, but he had a strange feeling in his chest that insisted it would be okay.

Only if Felix agreed to it, of course.

Felix’s blue eyes flickered, surprised, peering down at his hand. His thumb played with the sleeve of his white button-up. “That would be okay with you?”

Pepper shrugged, trying to play off his sudden wariness. “Yeah, it’s fine. Only for a few minutes, right?”

“Yeah,” Felix agreed, although he seemed to feel just as nervous.

It wasn’t a situation that either of them were used to. Felix had held Pepper before, obviously, but he always refrained from closing Pepper into a fist. It would be uncomfortable for both of them, especially considering that they could be surrounded by other humans. Pepper was willing to make it work, however, if it meant he could explore the art museum with Felix.

He didn’t know everything about human society, but he was smart enough to understand what a museum basically was. The idea enthralled him.

Once Felix was standing outside the car, ensuring that nobody was around, he lifted his hand to his shoulder. Pepper’s gaze dragged down from the enormous gray building— the museum, in fact, was the largest building he had seen in his life— to peer down at Felix’s palm.

It amazed him how quickly Felix’s hand had changed from a thing of terror to a comfort. Fingers as tall as he was curled inward, once threatening— but as Pepper stepped delicately onto the hand, he felt oddly protected by them. Something emotional shifted in his chest.

Felix moved his hand in front of himself, allowing the borrower to adjust before gently moving him to his non-dominant hand. Pepper immediately felt secured by the fingers curled around him, and he clung to Felix’s thumb and forefinger, acutely aware of how much power rested in his soulmate’s hands. His heart thudded on instinct, struggling to meet Felix’s gaze.

“Just a few minutes, I promise,” Felix said softly, and Pepper relaxed, nodding. He sent a lighthearted salute up, earning a breathy laugh. Moments later, Pepper was completely concealed from sight, as Felix tugged his sleeve over his hand. 

Pepper exhaled as Felix began walking, gaze dancing around the confined space. He wasn’t in complete darkness as his imagination had suggested he might; the sunlight filtered through the white fabric of Felix’s sleeve, providing the borrower with enough visibility not to go into a panic. 

The fingers around him were loose and accommodating, barely a fist at all. Pepper shifted into a more comfortable position, sinking into the warmth around him. He wondered if Felix could feel his heartbeat, with how his large finger was resting against his back.

His instincts murmured at him every time Felix’s fingers shifted around him, fleeting thoughts of being squeezed or dropped entering his mind. To be held like this was to completely surrender himself and trust Felix. He had no knowledge of what was going on outside— he just knew that Felix was with him, completely surrounding him with his presence. The thought left Pepper feeling somewhat dazed.

Pepper closed his eyes, resting his head back. He could hear Felix speaking to someone, and felt the shifting of gravity as Felix moved his hand, but he willfully ignored all of the noise in favor of peace of mind.

Felix was correct; it only took a few minutes for the sleeve to be tugged away. Pepper straightened up within Felix’s palm, squinting at the sudden onslaught of light, feeling like a frazzled baby bird.

Felix seemed to feel the same way. He hid a teasing smile, blue gaze dancing away respectfully as Pepper attempted to flatten his shaggy hair. “Sorry. Should’ve given you a warning.”

“It’s fine. As long as there’s no one around…”

Pepper trailed off. He had glanced around in search of other humans— but the room they were in was empty. Dark walls stretched around them, the floor expansive, and for a moment Pepper was reminded of being inside of the walls, with its enormous passageways and empty space.

Several gold-framed paintings adorned the walls, each one lit dramatically. Pepper’s breath left his body, and he immediately leaned towards the painting closest to them, attempting to see the little details. “Holy shit. Is this real?”

Felix seemed a little surprised by his reaction, but he approached the painting nonetheless, lifting his hand higher so Pepper could see. 

The painting beamed down at Pepper, an abstract rendition of two young girls playing on a swing set. Pepper wasn’t unfamiliar with fancy artwork, but this was the first time he had seen a painting with such detail or color. His gaze danced to the label below it.

“This is from 1986? These paintings are old!”

“You have no idea,” Felix teased, bringing his hand to his shoulder. Pepper quickly got the idea, scrambling up onto the dark sweater vest, double checking to make sure no other humans were in the room. “There’s artwork here that’s hundreds of years old.”

Pepper’s mind was racing. He had sewn clothes and drawn doodles in his journals for years, but most of his artwork tended to fall apart over time. It just seemed to be natural for paint to smudge and threads to wear down. He couldn’t imagine preserving something for hundreds of years.

As they examined the paintings surrounding them, Pepper rattled off questions, thrilled. A lot of things Felix couldn’t answer, because he wasn’t exactly a trained painter— but he was happy to see Pepper so excited.

Just as they reached the last painting, a young couple entered the room. Felix fell quiet at their presence, and after Pepper ducked against Felix’s neck in surprise, he took it as his cue to leave.

The panic in Pepper died down almost instantly as Felix moved to another section, filled with more paintings of wildly different styles. Pepper, recalling just how large the building had appeared from the outside, beamed with the realization of how much artwork there must be to explore.

The minutes flew by as they moved from painting to painting, speaking softly. Pepper remained enraptured the entire time.

“That one looks like you,” Pepper commented as they observed a painting of a tall, ghostly man. Felix snorted.

“Right. And you’re the bird.”

A tiny bird rested in the ghostly man’s hand, barely a stroke of paint. Cupped in the thin, pale fingers, the bird was barely noticeable.

Pepper blinked, then punched Felix’s neck. “Shut up.” 

The borrower was incredibly grateful for how quiet the museum was, something he hadn’t expected it to be. The borrower usually pictured every human structure to be filled with movement and noise— but the silence of the museum was a pleasant surprise. 

Pepper’s gaze drifted towards Felix, examining the length of his jawline and the smoothness of his cheek. The human was speaking quietly, discussing the origins of the painting in front of them, but Pepper was more focused on the movement of Felix’s jaw and fighting the sudden dizzying urge to reach out and touch it. 

Flushing, he turned back towards the painting, gently grasping Felix’s hoop earring for stability.

Only when they entered a room filled with towering human statues did Pepper remember exactly what he was— a borrower, currently on a date with a human.

A fluttery feeling filled Pepper’s chest, and he subconsciously straightened up, sending Felix a glance. He suddenly wondered if Felix had been on dates before.

The human had never mentioned any past romantic experiences, and the thought made Pepper feel a little uncomfortable. Was Felix comparing this date to any previous dates? Surely dating a borrower was significantly worse than dating another human, right?

“You okay?”

Pepper blinked, realizing he had fallen silent. His gaze turned towards a marble statue, towering over him, the details incredibly intricate. “Yeah, I… yeah. Sorry, just lost in thought.”

Felix’s voice was gentle, polite. Pepper momentarily hated him and his never-ending patience. “What were you thinking about?”

Pepper hesitated, drumming his fingers over his knees. For a moment, he thought about sharing all of these negative thoughts with Felix— but what would be the point? Felix had asked him out on a date, as soulmates. It didn’t matter what might have happened in the past.

Exhaling, Pepper dropped his shoulders, lifting his gaze to the next shoulder. A warm feeling in his chest, he inched closer to Felix, placing a small, steady hand on the human’s neck. He could feel the heartbeat underneath, quickening.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Pepper murmured, heart fluttering.

Felix’s shoulder shifted underneath him, surprised, before the human spoke again. His voice was as gentle as ever. “Of course.”

-----

they can have one nice chapter where nothing bad happens. as a treat

happy pride month!

TAGLIST: @smallsday @compact-katrina @satethesatelite @taters169 @entomolog-t @gtzel @gt-newbie @da3dm @clumsiergiantess @vee-normous @fee-hunter @torakan @mabelisthebatman @andithewhumper @mothsintherain @violetlight @heroofthe13thday @phoenix-on-the-run @houseboatmac @dav8530

[tmwcs]

reina, if u aren't busy can u do how heethan and y/n spend their new year🤩🤩

😏

Of course babe. ♥️

“Agora Hills”

Warnings: you already know. 😈 don’t read unless you’re comfortable with. Non-con, dub-con, implied rough smut, oral (fem receiving) etc. heethan is a menace in this one…he kinda gets excited…too excited.

“Babe, what do you want to do for New Years?”

You ask with an inquisitive look displayed on your delicate face as you raise your brows in earnest, yearning to hear Heeseung’s response. “H/n and the other girls mentioned this event and they’re all going with their boyfriends, I was wondering if you-“

“Babydoll…” he pauses after tossing the small towel he used to dry off his wet hair. A larger one is wrapped around his slim waist, the dry fabric is a stark contrast to his glistening wet skin. Like pearls, it shimmered under the glaring light above head, planted at the center of the ceiling. “I was hoping you’d be down to spend the evening with me—alone.”

Your eyes flicker downward. “I do, but can we just go and make an appearance? It’s just that—“

He cuts you off once more. “Are you getting bored, pretty girl?”

You shook your head vigorously, urgently relating that was not the case. God forbid if he ever thought you were bored with him, even if it were true, you would have to hold that piece in within yourself and avoiding the risk of receiving a punishment. “No, not bored.”

“Then what?” His deep voice quakes your legs. Quick on your feet, you quickly answer with the ball-bearing response that creases a permanent smile on his handsome face. You pleased him, so greatly.

“I just like to show you off…my man.”

‘Her man…she just used those words. Oh fuck almighty this girl…’

“You want to show me off…pretty girl?” He raises a brow, eyes wide with amusement, seemingly pleased by your affirmation. “Oh baby….”

You made him the happiest. Because of that, your wish is granted, and he took you out to said event.

‘I too, wanna show you off.’

He helped you pick out an outfit for the occasion, a white satin mini dress with a subtle flare on the hem. Skinny straps that delicately rest on the skin of your shoulders, and your hair remains down—it was the way he liked it. He loved the carefree and natural style of your beauty; little makeup and red glossy lips.

After mingling with the crowd, everyone joined inside the living room. You walked behind them but a sudden pull of your arm halts you. You turn around and see Heeseung’s dark eyes staring down at you. They looked so demeaning, you could feel the manipulation and corruption oozing from the glistening glare as he bites down in his bottom lip. He says nothing, but shifts a quick tilt to the side, hinting for you to migrate to the lone closet in the separate room. You didn’t even get to respond. The moment you tried to beg him and let you stay to participate in the countdown, he had already been snagging you, nearly flinging you across the kitchen floor. “Get over here.” He grits out through a clenched smile, eyes exuding malice and pure evil.

Dragging you away behind turned heads, nobody witnessed the explicit end to your night. “Please, Heeseung wait—“

He opens the door and tosses you in, almost as if you were a ragdoll. You find yourself in pitch black; the closet is a finite area. The light remains off as you feel his strong hands snag you by the waist. Shoving your back against the small built in cabinet that lies narrowly in a nook corner, he levitates your thighs harshly as he raises them up against the sides of his hips. “I’d love…nothing more than to show you off—“

He kisses you, violently mashing his lips against yours. “But you’re all mine. Part of me wants to show the entire world how viciously I can fuck you. But the other side of me just wants to keep the visual model of perfection that you are…all for myself.”

His hand snaps forward with viper speed as he grabs hold on your neck, giving him perfect leverage to push you down flat against the table surface of the shelf. Sighing out an ‘aww’ sound against your ear. “Oh baby…I love it when you smile…” he kisses your neck. “I love it when you frown.” He kisses your breasts as he pulls the straps of your dress down, revealing them. “I love it when you scream my name.” Another kiss finds its way on your inner thigh. Scooting your panties to the side, he dives his nose in, and exaggerating a sniff as he drags it against your clit, from top to bottom.

“But the best of all baby…” he flickers his tongue against the soft and swollen slack of skin in between the overly plush lips that cradle it. Soft kisses accompany the beating of his rhythmic tune as he swirls and twirls the tip in circles, increasing stimulation as the tightness of pressure formulates in your pelvis. “I love it when you cry…”

You gasp at the sudden force of his face jamming in between your legs. Your instinctive reaction was to close your thighs against his head, but his hands remained steady against them, pushing you apart as he continues to devour you of your senses. Pulsating, throbbing, and stinging with a pleasure so intense, it becomes painful. He gives it all to you as he wildly moves his tongue in and out of your most sensitive spot. He didn’t bother using his fingers, no. Enjoying the increase in moisture that was secreting out of you, he slurps up every drop, knowing that it was only going to add on to the state of pleasure you were riding on.

Your hips buck up as you wave them up and down, rolling onto your shoulder blades as you arch your back. Your chest protrudes towards, reaching high for the sky as you gasp out your pleading moans. Hips shaking, chest heaving, stomach churning, and legs quivering, you beg.

“Please! Heeseung please—n-not so much…I-it hurts! I can’t take it!”

The overstimulation pulls you into a state of sting pulses. They were piercing, making you squirm as he kept up with his vigor. “Mmmm” he mumbles with a mouthful of your sensitive skin.

He pulls away and licks his lips, replicating the expressive act of feasting on a meal. His lips taunting you through the display of the sweet scented shine, telling you of how much he savored the taste of you.

“Yummy.”

You shiver upon hearing him, while also watching g him unbuckle his belt in front of you, stationed between your legs as he glares his offensive look from above. “P-please…Heeseung…I-i can’t…”

You barely breathe out your words as you felt the life sucked out of you by the beast before you. “Shut up y/n. Don’t speak unless you plan on screaming out my name, deal?”

He swiped the tip of his phallic muscle up against your overstimulated clit, causing you to yelp out in pain and pleasure. He inserts himself in, but not in the traditional manner he normally displays. He was rough, demeaning, and entirely too offensive as he punched the tip in, dragging it further as he burrows deep into the depths of your cushioned gut. What in the world have you brought out of him? Did your earlier statement cause him to lose himself in the bliss happiness of your desire to show him off? Or did it excite him beyond the limits of satisfaction, causing him to yearn for you even more? So much that it hurts.

Deep into you, he buries his face into the soft spot of your neck, serenading you with soft kisses as you pinch out subtle tears from the mixture of pain and pleasure calling up in your gut. Your womanhood pulses with a beat that was much more steady than your heart. The blood rushes through your veins, heating your body temperature beyond comfort. His hands grip around your wrist as he continues to lavish your neck with his kisses. Your eyes winced shut as you overhear the crowd commit to the countdown of n the next room.

‘10…9…8…7…6…5…’

Snapping open, your eyes widen as he whispers the remaining numbers into your ear. “4…”

Oh no…

“3…”

Please God no…what is he going to do—

“2…”

when he reaches to…

“1…” he grins against your skin. “Happy New Year baby.”

Propping his palms flat by the sides of your head, he remains buried deep into you as he hovers his chest above your breasts, gently grazing against your nipples. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong but—I haven’t seen you cry since last year…think we’re overdue…don’t you?”

You shake your head. “N-no…heeseung please…not too hard…please?”

His thumb reaches up and swipes a teardrop away, gently smearing it across your cheek.

“Let’s see how many times you’ll scream out my name this year….both of them.”

Heeseung…and Ethan…

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 3

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, masturbation

Part 1

Billy normally did this sort of thing with Stu. He had a feeling his friend would be upset that he went alone. That's something he'd have to deal with later. Your room was on the second floor with no obvious way up to the window. If you were the only one home he'd find a way in. With current company that wasn't exactly possible. Binoculars, cellphone, and his trusty voice changer, were all he had to work with. Doing this sort of thing without a knife was unusual.

He positioned himself where he could see your bed and the posters adorning the walls. Rear window, The Birds, Vertigo, and Psycho. You were an Alfred Hitchcock fan. "And Stu said you didn't have good taste in movies." He scoffed. Billy shook his head the binoculars close to his eyes. He watched as you walked in the room towel wrapped around your frame. One foot closed the bedroom door behind you. You looked to the window as you slowly dropped your towel. Did you know he was out here?

That was impossible. It was pitch black outside with the exception of the moon. Billy watched as you pulled the dress from the bag. A smile lit up your face which in turn brought one to his lips. A sense of pride filled Billy's chest knowing he picked it out. Once again your eyes found the window looking out as if someone was right on the other side. Slowly you pulled the fluffy nightgown over your head, the frill dropping right under your ass. Billy's hand slipped down his abdomen resting over his zipper.

You grabbed the matching panties from the bag dragging them up your legs letting the elastic slap your skin. Moving away from the window you looked yourself up and down in the mirror. Billy and Stu knew what they were doing when they bought you the nightgown. You spun letting the dress drift around you. Air seemed to catch in your throat as you got happy. A smile so painful your cheeks hurt, was one of the many indications you were elated with the gift.

The only thing you could think that would make it better was some music. Walking to your records you grabbed the worn out 45 listed under M for Monroe. Lifting the wooden cabinet cover you sat the vinyl down placing the needle in the first groove. Within a second "I wanna be loved by you" filled the room. You mouthed the lyrics as you danced around. That giddy feeling only getting stronger. Your hands slid up and down your body as if you were the best stripper on a Saturday night. It was classy though and Billy took note. The dancing wasn't the best, if you could call it dancing. It was like you were in love with yourself and the world around you. Playing around with the air that filled the room.

Billy started softly rubbing the bulge that began to strain again his dark jeans. His eyes never leaving you as you danced for an audience of one. Your towel dried hair swug around sure to fling left over water. You were his own personal burlesque dancer. Billy's hips grinded up into his palm. The knuckles wrapped around the binoculars began to turn white with his grip. He had no clue what song could make you ooze with such lust but he needed to use it to his advantage. You were walking innocence. Something he lacked throughout his life. You weren't stupid, you were incredibly brilliant. Every move you made it was intentional. You were putting a show just for him.

His hips quickened as the pressure grew. Little whispers of encouragement fell on deaf ears. Billy needed your glossy lips around him. He needed the hem of that frilly little dress to fall over his lap as you bounced happily. He needed... You. "Fuck!" He cursed through gritted teeth. He needed new underwear. "Fuck." He dropped the binoculars by his side to assess the damage you caused. The mess you made. A small damp spot began to make an appearance through the denim next to zipper of his jeans. Ignoring the uncomfortable mess he picked the binoculars back up noticing you were now buttoning up your pajama shirt. "God damnit!"

Now that your little burst of energy was over you were ready to crawl in bed. You switched the record over to something more peaceful, one that would take longer to end. Billy put the binoculars down to focus on the phone number staining his hand. His finger tapped the buttons double checking the numbers before hitting call. He could hear the ear piercing ring all the way outside. Before you could answer he pulled the voice changer from his pocket.

Quickly you leaned over grabbing the phone off the receiver. Placing it right back down with a click. It was too late for anyone to be calling. Billy took a deep breath redialing the number. Once again the phone screamed for your help. "Hello?" You asked politely to Billy's surprise seeing as you were obviously upset at the intrusion. You hoped it was Billy. "Hello.." He spoke not really sure where to go with this one. Well at least you know who it's not. You picked up the phone sitting the receiver on the bed next to you. You got comfortable with the phone resting against to your face. "Hi what's up?" You spoke. No asking 'who is this?' or 'why are you calling?" Maybe you were a little dumb.

"Um-" Billy cleared his throat thinking of a quick response. "The sky." He squeezed his eyes closed in shame. His eyes opened to find you with a smile. A small laugh could be heard over the phone. "Okay smartass what's down?" This was stupid. You were supposed to angry at the caller, suspicious even. Who calls a girl all alone at this hour? "The ground." You laughed clapping your hands. "That's right! Not too bad mystery man. But what do you need? Why'd you call?" Finally.

"What if I just wanted to talk?" You scooted yourself underneath the covers thinking about the caller. "Okay but I'm not doing no weird shit. You can call one those sex hotlines for that." Billy smiled at your assertion. "Fair enough. Who might I be speaking to?" It was a test. You barley gave him a name when you first met he doubted you'd give it to a psychopath on the phone. "I would say we could exchange names but what's the fun in that? I don't know you, you don't know me. What's your favorite song?"

The question was out of left field so much so he wasn't ready for it. "What's yours?" He asked to your disappointment. Billy saw the sad look on your face. "Am I talking to Socrates right now? I asked first." Billy begrudgingly gave out his answer. "1979 by the Smashing Pumpkins. Now what's yours?" You nodded your head at the answer. It seemed fitting. "Oh gosh." You sighed. "I honestly don't have a favorite. And if I did it would change next week. Have you heard Landslide by Fleetwood Mac? It's really popular you probably have." You took a deep breath in. Sighing out the air in one go. "Anyways I really like that one. It's kind of sad though if you think about it."

Billy sat listening to every word you said. "Your turn." He always had the most important question on hand. Billy wasn't really sure if he wanted to ask knowing what normally happened afterwards. "Do you like scary movies?" Billy put down his binoculars focusing on just your voice. "I'd say I do. I like a very specific genre of scary movies though." Billy sat up listening closer if that was possible. "What do you mean by that?" The voice on the phone became lower sending a slight chill down your spine. "Everyone likes scary movies to be bloody. The more guts and gore the better. You don't have to have that to make a scary movie. Vertigo is scary but there's practically no blood and Rear Window is one of the best movies made about a murder with no body ever being seen."

"Scary movies should get inside your head, make the viewer wonder if they are next. Make them wonder if they are just as screwed up as the villain." Out of everything you could've said he wasn't ready for that. "You are very smart girl." Billy didn't intend for it to come off as sexual. However you definitely took it that way. "Has anyone told you that you've got a very attractive voice?" Billy smiled holding back a laugh. "Is that so?" You nodded as if he could see you. "Yep. Anyways it's getting late mystery man. I'm going to get some sleep. Sleep well okay?"

"Okay. Goodnight mystery girl." Billy whispered into the phone. For the first time he was the one to hang up. To end the call without screams on the other end. It made him feel surprisingly good. The light in your room turned off letting him know you were actually going to bed. Billy quietly packed up his things and started the walk to his car. He wasn't sure if this little talk changed anything for you but it definitely changed things for him.

Part 4

Taglist: @katie-tibo @danodoll21

[mysteria157]

Chapter Three

Pairing: Black Fem!Reader x Hitman Toji Fushiguro

CW: Profanity, Slight Angst (mentions of death), Fluff, Comfort

Word Count: ~5k

Summary:

Suffering from haunting dreams and a raging cold, you find solce in Toji's challenging yet comforting presence.

Authors Notes: Hello! Thank you all for waiting so patiently! It took me weeks to finally get out of my perfectionist mindset and just...write so everything flows together. This chapter is shorter than my usual, but to me little moments help with character development. And this is going to be a very, very slow burn lol.

As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! Enjoy and thank you for your support!

Previous Chapter | Twitter | Ao3| Masterlist | Next Chapter

Dividers: @royallaesthetics @eloquentmoon | Header: created by myself (fanart from Pinterest)

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

***You***

The cold air is deceptive; it nips at your skin, raising goosebumps despite the warm inviting appearance of your surroundings. Tall trees—oaks, hickories, and basswoods—clutter densely, forming a barrier that shields the land from the outside world and cages bittersweet memories of the past. You’ve followed your father through these woods before, navigating rocky hills and leaping over thick, ingrown branches to reach another unmarked spot for exploring.

Deep purple hues of the twilight sky cast elongated, eerie shadows over the forest, and they fold over the tall grass like dark, unnatural fingers. This definitely isn’t real. Everything around you right now brings painful memories—but they’re are not as sharp as what you feel in reality.

In reality, the ache is persistent, pulsing weakly in your veins, flaring up with every fleeting memory of your father—his infectious laugh, his hands putting you on his shoulders as you walked to football games, or the early mornings spent huddled together, his hand guiding your binoculars to focus on a bird in the distance.

This is definitely a dream.

You know it also from the feel of the grassy meadow beneath your toes, the blades soft and ticklish against your ankles, the usual worry of ticks far from your mind. Vivid wildflowers—yellows, pinks, and blues—sway in a nonexistent breeze. The dirt path that once led to your father’s house has vanished, taken over by the soil and grass, erasing years of footprints.

The house he dreamt of building, a two-story structure crafted by his own hands, now stands as nothing more than a decaying skeleton. There is no roof, only stretches of drywall reaching towards the twilight sky, as if trying to reach the heavens and falling short.

As you walk further across the foundation, the environment shifts around you, the air folding in on itself and twisting like the patterns in a kaleidoscope. Your fingers trail along the phantom walls that spring up, and your feet glide over the conjured glossy finish of hardwood floors. This empty space is a blueprint nestled deep in your memory: bedrooms that will give privacy, a living room that will host family gatherings, a fireplace that is now roaring in orange and yellows.

“There you are,” a familiar voice calls to you, sending a jolt through your heart that tightens your chest as if you’re about to cough. As you turn the corner, reality morphs once again, unfolding into a meticulously designed kitchen with forest green cabinets adorned with brass knobs, a deep porcelain sink and shiny stainless-steel appliances. The surreal surroundings are dizzying, blurring and swirling in your vision. But the figure you know—his broad back turned to you, shoulders stretching and pulling as he wipes something in front of him—that grounds you, preventing you from drifting away.

“It finally came in, take a look.”

He radiates an intense warmth as you stand beside him. Even with your arms barely touching, the heat feels suffocating, instantly causing you to break into a sweat. Just being next to him makes your throat constrict, choked and searing, it’s nearly impossible to speak. But with each stroke of his hand on the new granite counter top, sweeping a fiberglass cloth, his love and comfort are palpable in the stiffing heat, settling on your skin to relax you.

“Looks good huh?” He’s proud, and even though you don’t have the strength to look up at his face, you know he’s beaming. “Once it all comes together, it’s gonna look beautiful.”

His words stir a deep-seated guilt within you, so fierce it makes you want to scratch at your own skin, as if to physically scrape away the emotional turmoil the festers beneath the layer of your dermis. You press your toes into the hardwood, cross your arms and dig your fingernails into your arms. It’s hotter now—god you’re burning up. Your body prickles with beads of moisture as you watch him tirelessly wipe over an already clean surface.

It’s incessant, and with each swipe the guilt rises further, urging you to flee from a conversation that will never happen. You don’t really know about an afterlife but if there is one, does he know what happened? Is he rooted in the present, watching you occasionally to see what you’ve failed to do? Is he disappointed in you?

Maybe if you focus on his steady motions, close your eyes, and just breathe, you might find yourself back in your room when you open them again. After all, none of this is real—it will never be real. This kitchen, these rooms, the wooden floorboards, and the beautiful roaring fireplace. The remnants of all of this are written on a blueprint somewhere, collecting dust for the last two decades.

He calls out to you again, his voice oddly distant though he stands right beside you. He sounds weary, as if he’s struggling to breathe, and when you glance at his hand moving across the counter, it’s no longer vibrant and almond-brown but ashen, marked by blown-out veins. Lifting your eyes, you meet not the father you remember, but his final, frail image—his sunken skin, his life slipping away too soon, anchored to the world only by the fragile thread of a nasal cannula.

“You okay, honey?” he croaks, concern etched in every syllable.

You open your mouth to speak, but fear grips your entire being, squeezing you like you’re a piece of fruit to be juiced. The terror is paralyzing, and you find yourself unable to face him any longer without crumbling into tears. A deep, ragged breath cuts through the silence, rasping painfully in your throat as you stammer, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t—“

Your eyes snap open, sticky and heavy with exhaustion, wincing against the harsh glare of sunlight that peaks through your maroon curtains. The embers of your dream fade into nothingness and unforgiving reality slides into place with ease. The heat of the dream is replaced by a chilling dampness; the sheets cling to your sweaty skin, and the fiery soreness in your throat reminds you of your still raging cold. When you swallow, it feels like sandpaper across raw flesh.

It’s been almost a year since you’ve dreamt of your father. It’s not that you don’t like to dream about him; actually, you cherish every memory, even the painful ones. But dreaming of him in the house—his house that has remained untouched since his death—it consumes you with regret for the role you’ve been unable to fulfill. You don’t have the time. You don’t have the money. All things that are out of your control but still hold you by the throat.

It’s too much for your mother, and you don’t blame her. The love she has for your father never really left. It lingered in her second marriage and came back full force in her divorce. So she stays away from all things related to him when she can.

Your eyes wander to the corner of your office desk where the old property deed lies, rolled up and bound by a simple rubber band. The edges are brown and dusty, much like the blueprints in your dream.

Why do you even keep it there?

Maybe it’s a reminder of him, just something physical you can glance at every day even if it hurts. Maybe it’s there to spur you to make that thousandth trip to city hall—the one that always ends in tears. Maybe, with these next few days off, you can try again. You’ll be stronger this time, more aggressive with the bald-headed piece of shit that always gives you trouble.

Or maybe not.

The flare of your throat is harsh enough to push away any other thoughts. There’s a frustration that always comes with getting sick, it makes simple things extreme when there is no need for it. Your body is too hot and also too cold, your throat burns with every swallow no matter how many throat drops you take, your lungs spasm with the tiniest breath to cough, your nose is so congested that it makes you regret taking breathing for granted. It’s overstimulating as hell.

You wince against the harsh sun again, turning your head further into your pillow before your eyes fall on your nightstand. There’s a tall glass of water and two pills. You don’t remember setting them there, but you sit up to throw them back anyway and down the water quickly. The coolness soothes your throat and with each swallow, the haze of last night lifts.

You know Toji brought you home because your car is out of commission and he refused to let you take the bus. He helped you out last night—literally carrying you up to your apartment because you were so achy and exhausted you could hardly stand. You remember him leaning casually against the brick wall of your complex, that insufferably charming smirk playing on his lips as he watched you go through every stage of defiance for help.

“I’m not getting any younger, princess.”

That name. You hate that name.

It was a taunt that made you eventually give up, too damn tired to snap at him. You gave in to the warmth of strong muscles and the scent of detergent, cologne, and something that’s just Toji. You remember the lack of strain in his neck, the ease in which he breathed as he took step after step like you weighed nothing, and the analytical gaze of jade irises beaming in the night as he took in his surroundings. It almost felt like he was assessing the area, checking every corner when he hit another flight of steps to make sure no one was lurking nearby.

As you think back, your hands automatically press against your cheeks, warmed by the flush of memory as your blood pumps faster in your veins from the rising shock. Toji had drawn you an Epsom salt bath to soak your muscles, rolling his eyes as you feverishly barked at him for privacy to undress. That gruff attentiveness continued as he watched you like a hawk as you slurped down the bowl of canned soup he warmed, and then gently nudging you to bed with a press to the small of your back. Even his firm grip on your arm as he wielded a syringe of cough syrup—which you tried to refuse—is clear in your mind.

“You’re burning up, stop fucking fighting me! What kind of doctor won’t take medicine?”

“This doctor. I would rather lick the floor than taste cough syrup. It’s just a cold. Go away,” you remember protesting, delirious with a stubbornness that has only gotten worse with age.

He had pressed the tip of the syringe to the side of your mouth, eyes narrowed and annoyed. “Open your mouth and—OW, why are you biting people! Girl, what the hell?!”

“Fuck,” you groan now, your hands digging into your eye sockets as the memory plays like a broken record behind your eyelids. You bit him like a fucking maniac. Who does that?! You remember giving in because you felt bad but still…

As a kid, you were the same—so against the taste of medicine that your mother had to pin you down.

But now? At the ripe age of too damn grown? You’re mortified.

Your hands slide down your face as you sigh in the silence, which feels heavier than before. Did he leave last night? You can’t remember anything beyond smacking your lips to get rid of the cherry taste of cough medicine and rolling over to pass out.

Your body isn’t as achy as last night as you climb out of bed. You slip into dry clothes and throw off your bonnet, ruffling the curls loose before you snatch up your phone and leave the room in search of him. The air in your apartment, usually so familiar, now carries a subtle disturbance—a reminder of his increasing presence. Only the distant chirps of cardinals outside punctuate the silence. As you enter the living room, you notice Toji’s black jacket casually draped over a kitchen stool and his car keys abandoned on the counter.

Your fuzzy socks muffle your steps as you approach the counter, where a covered glass bowl sits alongside a small note. You hate the lurch of your heart skipping as you snatch it up, your movements fueled by a mix of dread and anticipation.

Make sure you eat it all.

You can practically hear his gruff voice through the words, rough and serious, a subtle layer of care that’s unique to him. The thought makes you snort softly, relief washing over you with the distant thought that…he didn’t leave. But that relief is a push and pull, it’s frustrating to you because you’re unsure of what you want, even though you want more and moreof it. More of him.

As you pop open the lid of the container, the steam hitting your nose, your phone rings, your eyes rolling on reflex as you look at the caller ID. It’s a work day for your cousin, you can tell by the sleek reading glasses she only wears to comb over legal documents. Her shiny kinky hair is pulled up into a neat bun with not a strand out of place, edges laid to perfection, dark lip liner with a clear gloss on full lips, and she looks professional and uniquely Rene. Dark brown eyes narrow at you, the corners pointed in a cat’s eye with fresh black eyeliner, her expression tightening. Your mind automatically conjures the phrase you know she’s about to say.

“What do I have to do—”

“—to make sure you’re not dead,” she finishes in real time, her voice a blend of concern and familiar exasperation. “I was texting you all night.”

This is a well-worn interaction between you both; you work for days on end and disappear from the world, Rene reels you back in with stern care that rivals your own mother.

Your fingernail idly traces Toji’s handwriting from his note. “It was a rough night. My car wouldn’t start, I had to catch the bus and it made me late, and then work was just a nightmare. I’m sick, everything hurts, and Toji had to pick me up—”

“Why don’t we back up a little bit,” she interjects, elegant eyebrows arching up in wicked surprise, your well-being entirely forgotten because your cousin is a nosy bitch. “Toji was there? Where is he?” You shoot her a glare, irritation flaring because you refuse to give in to her curiosity. She holds up her hands in defense, her full lips curving into a smile. “Damn, a bestie can’t ask a question these days? That’s tough.”

Your gaze holds firm, challenging her. She meets it in a well-known game you both play, her eyes widening comically and it’s enough to break you both, laughter filling the kitchen.

“This is why I don’t tell you things,” you lie, coughing into your elbow. “We are just taking it slow. Nothing crazy. I didn’t need his help anyway. I could have taken the bus and taken care of myself. It’s just a cold.”

She laughs again at your bullshit and you sigh in defeat. There’s no point in trying to sugarcoat things with her. Nothing crazy, you say even though can’t even get your thoughts together when it comes to him. You could easily hang up the phone, but annoying or not, you haven’t talked to Rene in days. It’s nice to hear her voice again. Your mother is overseas often for work so calls aren’t as frequent. As for the rest of your family? You’re just…not as close to them.

Rene’s still running cackling keeps your mind from wandering again.

“Alright, it’s not funny anymore,” you snap as you grab a spoon from a kitchen drawer, turning back to Toji’s leftover food with a frown.

“I’m sorry! Really! But come on, it’s just classic you—the baddest bitch I know, but here you are, refusing any chance of help even though you want it so bad. Hard-headed as hell,” she chuckles, her voice warming with the years of friendship between you.

You pause, spoon in hand over the steaming bowl of soup, struck by the truth in her words. Stubbornness is your armor and you rarely let it slip, only few know what’s behind it. Even though she teases, it hurts. It hurts because it carries history—reminders of every instance you’ve pushed help away. It wraps around those jabs from your family, from the men you’ve been with.

Mean because you demand respect so you can weed out those who aren’t worth your time.

Defensive because you’ve been hurt too often.

Uncompromising and fierce, and that’s anyone who tries to get too close—never stays.

You clench your teeth together. “Rene, I’m not—” you start to protest, but the latch of the front door opening makes you raise the spoon in alarm.

It's Toji.

He walks into your home as if he owns the place, his presence so commanding it seems to fill every corner, snuffing the lights and sucking the air from the room. His gaze sweeps through the space, and when his emerald eyes finally settle on you, you feel the weight of his attention.

His shirt is stained with grease, and raven locks, messy from the July humidity, sticks to his forehead and sides of his neck.

“You won’t get far if you’re trying to stab me with that,” he teases, nodding towards the spoon in your hand. Though his tone is light, the underlying seriousness suggests he’s not entirely joking. He’s strong enough to disarm you and you wouldn’t mind a big man like him trying to—

The spoon clatters against the granite counter top as you slap it down and force your mind to shut the hell up.

He takes only two steps before he’s standing in front of you, analytical eyes scanning you in seconds—a look so intense that it feels like he’s trying to memorize you and understand hidden layers you’d rather keep concealed. Alarmingly thorough and you’re still trying to process him being this close, his proximity bringing an electricity you feel even before his lips press a soft, almost possessive kiss on your cheek, like he’s been waiting—itching for contact.

Rene’s startled cough cracks through the phone, mirroring your own internal shock. Toji is making your fever worse because it’s hot as hell now, the hairs rising on your neck as you gape like a fish.

“W-what are you doing…” you begin to ask, but the words die in your dry mouth when he pulls back. His eyes linger close to yours—too close and sliding across your nose, your cheeks, your lips. He still smells like cologne, but now there’s sweat and a muskiness of exertion and outdoors that makes your head swim with dread and desire.

“Where’s your toolbox?” he asks, putting a leash on your thoughts before they run away from you.

You clear your throat and step back, trying to reclaim your space, to fortify your defenses, do anything so you don’t fall apart. “Um, coat closet down the hall. Top shelf.” Your tone is steadier than you feel, pointing mechanically to your hallway.

You look down at your phone when he walks away, exhaling a breath you don’t realize you’re holding. Rene’s watching you with an amused, knowing look, eyebrows rising and falling suggestively. You can’t stand her because you want to laugh and groan at the same time.

“Girl,” Rene chimes, voice dripping with insinuation and not low enough because she doesn’t care who hears her. “I’m sure if you take him for a ride again, you’ll feel a little better.”

“When she’s not sick,” Toji calls from the hallway, your eyes widening at the implication of him listening in. “That kind of ride takes a little work.”

You gawk at the empty space of your hallway. Rene hollers and you hope to god she gets written up for being too loud.

“I know that’s right, Toj—”

You hang up and slam the phone down with more force than necessary.

Toji returns with the toolbox, smirking and completely unphased by his remark and just how unsettled you look by it. He motions with his head to the bowl of soup in front of you.

“Eat.”

It’s a command, gentle but firm, and you bristle not just at the directive, but at your own conflicting impulses—to bare your teeth and snap at his attempt of care or to melt under his attention.

Toji doesn’t wait for an answer, just studies you a moment longer, seemingly satisfied with what he sees, and disappears out the front door. The quiet buzz of the cardinals outside fills the silence he leaves behind.

You’re left standing there, a hand squeezing your phone on the counter like a vice, your mind struggling to remain upright in a storm of emotions that he stirs up within you. Unsettling and soothing, your chest fluttering like butterflies wings against your rib cage. Maybe it’s just a heart palpitation, this intensity—this feeling. Nanami can do an EKG when you return to work in a few days. And he better be there, because he’s the very reason why you had to pick up so many shifts in the first place.

Rene’s giggles still echo in your ears as you exhale a shaky breath and grip the metal spoon in your hand again.

***

“What are you doing?”

Your question cuts through the ambient city hum and the rustle of trees surrounding the parking lot of your complex. Toji is hunched over the hood of your car, hands deep in it’s guts, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

The summer sun beats down on you both, yet you’re wrapped in Toji’s jacket to cover your exposed legs. It was the first thing you grabbed when you rushed out of the apartment but it’s too big, the hem brushes against your knees, the sleeves dangling past your hands. You push them up again, feeling simultaneously protected and vulnerable under his gaze as he turns to face you. The jacket feels like a shield, but also a reminder of how much space he’s beginning to occupy in your life.

“Your starter is bad,” he grunts, showing you a car part smeared with oil. It looks expensive, way more than an oil change, and panic flares in your belly briefly as the numbers fluctuate in your mind. If it’s too much, it’ll probably be weeks before you can take your car to the shop.

You’re a doctor, but doctors don’t start making good money for…awhile.

“How much do you think it will be for a new one?” You sigh, mentally calculating the number of zeros the mechanic is going to throw at you. At least Toji saved you some money for a diagnostics test.

“I already ordered the part.”

The admission hits you like a truck.

You gape at him, fumbling and overwhelmed. “You didn’t—I could have done all of this myself. I don’t need your help, Toji.”

The words taste bitter as they drip from your tongue, a defensive reflex from years of self-reliance. Of course you’re grateful, but the frustration that he’s seen a need you hadn’t voiced, that he’s filled it without asking, that’s what stirs the deep discomfort. It’s not just the help—it’s the intimacy of it, the presumption that he can anticipate your needs.

The weight of his jacket on your shoulders no longer feels comforting.

His reaction is immediate, a flash of annoyance flickering over his features, the scar on the side of his lips twisting as he frowns and snatches a rag from the hood of the car.

“So, what, you were going to trust some corner-shop mechanic to rip you off?”

His accusation is justified, and almost instantly, that phrase parrots in your mind.

Let me be nice to you. Let me be nice to you.

“Yep, that was the plan,” you retort, your voice lacks conviction, weak and drowned out by the steady thump of your own heart as he walks closer. He drags the rag between his knuckles, collecting the dirt in the seams.

“You want me to let some old fuck tear your shit up? Even though I know what I’m doing? Not happening.”

His assurance should be overwhelming, but you find yourself irresistibly drawn to it. He moves closer, and instinctively, your muscles tense, your toes curling inside your fuzzy socks and blue Crocs. With every inch that disappears between you both, your mind fires with mixed signals: go back to the safety of your apartment or surrender to the magnetic pull of him. God, you’ve only been awake for two hours, but the emotional whiplash just might knock you back out.

“You told me to earn you, so I am. You need to let me.”

His directness, unyielding and raw, hits you harder than you expect. It’s not just his physical presence that’s imposing—it’s the sheer force of his will, loud and insisting that you realize he’s not leaving anytime soon.

Your reactions and reflexes are not completely intentional, but it isn’t easy to just change who you are. The defenses around you are lined with hard-learned lessons. Your armor and shields to keep yourself safe are all you know. Letting go is like disarming a trap designed to protect you—it requires careful, gentle hands. And you’re terrified that Toji’s large, scarred hands will be too rough.

But you recognize that you can’t tell him to try, and you not do the same. That’s not fair to him, or to whatever this dance is that you are both trying to learn the steps to.

As Toji wipes the sweat from his brow, he unwittingly smears a streak of grease across his forehead, drawing your attention. “If you really feel like you need to repay me, then I don’t know—spend a day with me.”

You lift an eyebrow, surprised at his suggestion. “A whole day?”

Toji nods. “When the part comes in and you’re feeling better. No long ass shifts. No PI cases. Just you and me.” He offers a half-smile, white teeth glimmering in the sun and the look is as disarming as it is dangerous.

Your interactions with Toji, even limited, have always been charged with an intensity you’ve avoided and craved. The meaning behind the car repairs and taking care of you, it’s not just surface level. There’s more to it…he’s trying. So now it’s your turn.

You sniff through a congested nose and clear your rough throat, grabbing the rag from his hands and standing on your toes to reach his forehead. You don’t get very far, but Toji leans down so his forehead is closer to you, holding back a snicker at the height difference. You wipe the grease away, locked on the task because you can feel his stare.

“An entire day with you sounds…ominous.”

“I’ll make sure to feed you,” Toji responds, a comforting rumble that unexpectedly makes you laugh. A small smile blooms across your face and the tension in your stomach eases. You feel a little better, still on a tightrope but you can see the other side. With the grease now gone, you sink back to your slightly achy heels, unable to look away now that you’re both eye-level. “I’ll throw in a thirty-minute lunch break.”

“Make it an hour. Don’t try to short change me,” you challenge, playfully. His eyes, emerald and sharp, scan your face with open curiosity, and you wonder if you’ll ever get used to his intense focus. You press the rag into his white shirt, deliberately looking to the dirt on the fabric to ground your thoughts. “How’s your finger?”

His laughter vibrates through him, a melodic bark that makes you bite the inside of your cheek, and you watch his abdomen tighten under his shirt from the motion. Toji’s fingers brush against yours as he takes the rag from your hand, his touch making your heart jump. The scars on his knuckles catch the sunlight, and you’re struck again with the curiosity of how they got there.

“I’ve had worse.”

You can’t tell if that’s a joke…or if he’s serious, but you don’t have time to ask because his lips press against your cheek, stealing another unasked kiss that leaves you momentarily off-balance. You swat at him in reflex as if he’s a fly in your ears, swallowing a stuttering response that you’re glad doesn’t filter into the air.

“You’re burning up. Go lay down,” he murmurs, almost gentle now. “I’ll finish up here and head out.”

You can stay.

It’s what you want to say. The words are on the tip of your tongue, pressing against the back of your teeth, but you curl the muscle back and purse your lips, offering a tight nod before you turn and walk away.

Your Crocs squeak against the concrete, your pace quickening because you can feel Toji’s eyes on your back, watching you. You’re burning up from the summer air and the jacket that’s around you. But there’s an underlying, electrifying warmth that pulls a small smile on your face, your hands rising to your cheeks to quell the heat flush that you know is not from your fever.

Thanks for reading!