#but I promise to be much better from here on out

[astonmartinii]

day six: not so home for christmas | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem reader

oscar and y/n are having their first christmas in monaco because of a snow storm, unfortunately this also means they're now hosting most of the grid as well.

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 137,094 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: thanks a lot snow storm :( i guess it's our first ever christmas here in monaco

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user1: yall global warming might just be real

user2: you're only just realising it now ?

charles_leclerc: you kids and your complaining - a white christmas in monaco, what more could you want?

yourusername: a christmas at home with our families?

charles_leclerc: families? when you're in your adopted father-in-law's home city, i'd watch your tone if i were you

oscarpiastri: if you think of your kids as often as you say then you should be worried that your aussie son is going to FREEZE to death :(

charles_leclerc: if it's the bbq you crave, you can still do that?

yourusername: it's snowing? and he is NOT bringing our bbq inside

charles_leclerc: okay jeez, not much christmas spirit here i see

oscarpiastri: we miss our families, sue us

user3: wait... if they couldn't get out of nice... who else couldn't

user4: the storm kicked in like a day ago right?

user5: based on instagram activity, my guess is that max, lando, ollie (idk why he was in monaco anyway), kimi (i think he's attached to ollie), alex (and lily) and george

user6: i know it would never happen but wouldn't it be so cute if we got a grid christmas dinner

yourusername: please don't give them any ideas

oscarpiastri: i only just got rid of them 😩

landonorris: so, just out of interest, is y/n still free to maybe wrap my presents for me?

yourusername: do i look like the christmas fairy to you?

landonorris: well i know for a fact that oscar's ass was not wrapping those presents

oscarpiastri: well y/n actually likes doing things for me soooooo

landonorris: PLEASE Y/N I'LL HAVE TO RESORT TO USING TIN FOIL

yourusername: tin foil... please you are a 25 year old man

landonorris: does it look like i'm a man who has sellotape in his house?

yourusername: no.

user7: y/n is like a full time mum to a load of men all older than her

user8: she better get ready to cook for them at christmas because none of these men can cook for themselves

oscarpiastri

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 692,108 others

tagged: yourusername & landonorris

oscarpiastri: i'm not sure how this went from our lonely christmas away from both of our families to babysitting half of the grid but what the hell, sure

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user10: i personally blame all of you for this

user11: and what??? i'm so excited

user12: i hope they post nothing more just to spite your ass

charles_leclerc: i’m kinda offended no one thought of coming to mine :/

maxverstappen1: you’re shit at cooking

charles_leclerc: how would you know?

maxverstappen1: i saw it in your vlog

charles_leclerc: you watch my vlogs???

maxverstappen1: NO?

yourusername: okay queens stop flirting and get back to your stations in the kitchen

charles_leclerc: can we flirt there?

yourusername: if you're still peeling - knock yourselves out

user13: y/n basically confirming lestappen? wow christmas DID come early this year

user14: the real question is why she would let those menaces in the kitchen?

yourusername: i have seen how much these people eat, i need help even from the useless

yourusername: also if they want certain dishes from home they have to help

maxverstappen1: i am CORING AS MANY APPLES AS I CAN I PROMISE THE APPLE BEIGNETS WILL BE WORTH IT

oscarpiastri: i know they will be, y/n is making them

maxverstappen1: okay buddy, i don't see you helping

oscarpiastri: i am keeping everyone else in line, that's a full time job as well

user15: who made the youngest couple in charge of these fools?

user16: a comedic genius

yourusername: they're annoying but i'll deal with them for you

oscarpiastri: you make such sacrifices for me, i love you

yourusername: i love you more

alexalbon: we're really not that bad you guys are being dramatic

yourusername: george walked up to our mantle piece, pointed at my baby picture and said "ugly. my condolences" ?

alexalbon: that's george ? he's mean to everyone

yourusername: HE'S IN THAT BABY'S HOUSE

olliebearman

liked by charles_leclerc, estebanocon and 418,934 others

tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri & kimiantonelli

olliebearman: first christmas with my big brother :))))

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user17: yall be on oscar about him holding onto the leclerc family joke but the real enemy is ollie

olliebearman: i think it's cute

olliebearman: and it's NOT a joke

user18: you know what? yeah i'd also keep going with the joke i need to get in that leclerc family

olliebearman: the real catch here is y/n she's going to teach me to crochet :)

yourusername: we can make little bear mans !!!

user19: the grid dad stuff was cringey... but grid brother well that's hitting like crack i fear

charles_leclerc: grid dads are cringey ??? count your days

user19: sorry?

charles_leclerc: i (and my family) will NOT tolerate sebastian vettel slander. not now not EVER

fernandoalo_oficial: and me?

charles_leclerc: i couldn't give a fuck about you old man

fernandoalo_oficial: excuse me

fernandoalo_oficial: i'll have you know i am just as much oscar's father as you are

charles_leclerc: and how have you come to that OBVIOUSLY WRONG conclusion

fernandoalo_oficial: WELL i don't know maybe his REAL grid dad is actually mark webber who i have a well documented homoerotic relationship with and therefore oscar and most importantly Y/N are my children

charles_leclerc: what a load of bullshit

charles_leclerc: if grid children were based on homoerotic tension then i'd be father to all of the red bull juniors and max would have custody of the FDA

maxverstappen1: well....

pepemarti: hi !!!

dinobeganovic: hey.....

yourusername: what happened to the original plot of the movie

user20: i think the cabin fever is getting to them

lilymunhe: no they're like this all of the time it's exhausting

yourusername: tell me about it

olliebearman: but not me :(

yourusername: no we love you

oscarpiastri: you are the least annoying one

olliebearman: omg thank you :3

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 163,207 others

tagged: oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc & landonorris

yourusername: not so home for christmas but with family nonetheless

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user22: what was the dress code here?

landonorris: what we had left? all the dry cleaners are closed because of the storm

yourusername: you take ALL of your clothes to the dry cleaners?

landonorris: why wouldn't i do that...

yourusername: yk what, whatever !

user23: omg of course leo was there as well

yourusername: we only invited charles for him

charles_leclerc: excuse me?

landonorris: he was invited ????

oscarpiastri: well he was staying in monaco anyway and you guys all invoked your squatters rights in my house so what was one more

landonorris: i am not squatting? my ass is already big enough as it is

yourusername: i know your ass is big because YOU'RE ALWAYS SAT ON IT

oscarpiastri: god i love you

yourusername: i love you even more

oscarpiastri: nuh uh not possible

yourusername: i love you so much i'm not even that angry about half of the grid crashing our christmas

oscarpiastri: i love you so much that i personally barged a child out of the way to get you your eras tour merch

yourusername: i do love my merch.... but not as much as i love you

oscarpiastri: you're so romantic

georgerussell63: right that's it, i am SICK of you people pretending you are not enjoying our presence

yourusername: did i or did i not say family ???

oscarpiastri: george i'd appreciate if you didn't talk to y/n this way

maxverstappen1: yeah back the fuck off

georgerussell63: why is max here?

maxverstappen1: ummmm y/n busted her ass to make apple beignets for me so i had some netherlands with me at christmas so i would die for her. i am somwhat fond of oscar as well

maxverstappen1: so fuck with them, you fuck with me

maxverstappen1: and you seem to like doing that recently

yourusername: awwww thanks max!

oscarpiastri: we are fond of you too buddy

georgerussell63: how did i lose this?

user24: max out here getting wags on his side

maxverstappen1: that's my ma

maxverstappen1: wait that makes my homoerotic tension with charles incest

maxverstappen1: that's my home girl

oscarpiastri

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tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: y/n absolutely smashed our makeshift grid christmas and she said she'll accept thanks in qualifying tows or easy passes on track 👍

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user25: oh they want me dead

user26: i would do questionable things to get a slice of that cake

user27: drop the recipe please xxx

yourusername: oh babe i be following the tiktoks like the rest of yall - i'll repost it

user28: woman of the people

yourusername: babe i don't really remember saying those exact words...

oscarpiastri: PLEASE ! they don't say no to you now you've filled their stomachs

landonorris: he's not wrong

maxverstappen1: you're in my will now

charles_leclerc: you're now my favourite daughter in law

yourusername: i'm your only daughter in law?

charles_leclerc: idk kimi and ollie are pretty attached with their weird tension

landonorris: like father like son

charles_leclerc: huh?

landonorris: huh?

oscarpiastri: ^^ see !!!! y/n please !!!

yourusername: fine.

yourusername: thank you all for coming, i hope you enjoyed dinner and your time with us. i loved spending time with you all but if you wish, i will be accepting thanks in the form of qualifying tows and easy passes for oscar or pornstar martinis from any hospitality

yourusername: happy?

oscarpiastri: yes

oscarpiastri: YOU HEARD THE WOMAN GUYS

maxverstappen1: oh i love y/n but i'd rather put you in the wall than let that ugly orange car past without a fight

georgerussell63: @fia i told yall

yourusername: are you ever gonna give that up ?

georgerussell63: no? and i KNOW IT WAS YOU WHO SAT ME NEXT TO HIM AT DINNER

yourusername: you'll never prove it :P

user29: oscar is such a sassy man

yourusername: he gets it from his momma

oscarpiastri: and you :)

yourusername: i will say your ability to watch my reality tv with you is a big factor in how much i love you

landonorris: is that why oscar once woke me up the night before a race by shouting "get her ass lisa" ???

oscarpiastri: we watch real housewives together on facetime :)

charles_leclerc

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tagged: yourusername & oscarpiastri

charles_leclerc: i made the right choice in son and most importantly daughter in law

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user31: okay the cinnamon buns have thrown me over the edge now

user32: i NEED to know who asked for them

alexalbon: guilty 💅 and they slapped thanks y/m

oscarpiastri: we've been dating for years? like when i was still in f3?

charles_leclerc: semantics

oscarpiastri: no i met and charmed y/n all on my own thank you very much

charles_leclerc: because she saw the future and the potential of our prosperous family !!!

oscarpiastri: at this point, whatever you wanna hear old man

charles_leclerc: relegated below ollie

olliebearman: score !!!

user33: oh these people are never letting this joke die are they

user34: i think we're stuck with it

charles_leclerc: are you people sick of whimsy ???

charles_leclerc: i am ALLOWED to flex my son's amazing choice in women, especially a woman who will make me a swiss roll on demand

yourusername: he does have amazing taste

oscarpiastri: thank you :3

yourusername: as much as you guys were somewhat annoying, we had an amazing christmas xx

oscarpiastri: please do not bother us until march

charles_leclerc: fine. but we're still on for the double date in melbourne?

charles_leclerc: (maybe triple? idk ollie can just bring kimi)

kimiantonelli: score !!!

yourusername: we would love to !

oscarpiastri: i guess you could meet my actual family ?

charles_leclerc: not now oscar, let me enjoy chritmas with you all before you remind me of that

oscarpiastri: okay?

user35: y/n and oscar actually have the patience of saints because if these clowns crashed my christmas i'd be on the news

yourusername: any christmas is perfect with him

oscarpiastri: with y/n, i can get through even the most annoying people

user35: okay yall didn't have to flex on me that hard damn

fin.

note: here's day six! i'm not sure if you guys saw my update post but this series won't be done by christmas day but will stretch to NYE because unfortunately my cat has to be put down :( i've had him for nearly 19 years and it's really hard to think about him being gone so i'm just spending as much time as possible with him atm. anyway, i hope you enjoyed !! xx

[ncteez]

M.I.L.F. (Make It Last Forever) ― L.DH

Haechan, a favorite among classy wives to hire during the hot summer season for a nice, thorough pool cleaning, seems to have a favorite wife of his own.  You.  Or the one where Haechan was the pain-in-your-ass son of the family you used to babysit for, but now he’s making it his mission to be the pain-in-your-ass pretend husband that you never asked for, but very clearly need. 

minors dni 

PAIRING ― lee haechan  x afab milf!reader  

WORDCOUNT― 18.9k

CONTENT―  age gap: reader is 31  and haechan is 24, milf trope/single mother reader, college pool boy haechan (turned part time babysitter), reader has 1 kid and haechan really wants to give her another, reader has morals!! haechan just doesn’t see it as a moral issue, he is actually very sweet 

!WARNINGS! ―  age gap, haechan is somewhat of a manipulator, he’s gentle but won’t take no for an answer. dub-con in one instance. major breeding kink and kind of a mommy and daddy kink (domesticity), angst regarding reader and her ex husband, reader has huge tits 

NOTE ― this was written for jay from enhypen over on my other blog, but i am gifting it to you guys here as well! I WROTE THEM BOTH!!!! NOT PROOF READ.

nsfw tags under cut

nsfw tags― thick big dick haechan, small instant dubious consent, tit obsessed haechan, groping and grinding, mommy/daddy kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, cum stuffing-ish,pussy eating, fingering, basically it’s haechan doing stuff to you,  this ain’t smut this is making love, also reader doesn’t shave her coochie and haechan fucking loves it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Having a stray eye isn’t typically something you afford yourself when it comes to men. Things tend to change with time though, that much you know is true. 

It was proven to you for the first time when your ex husband decided to up and leave you three weeks before your due date for a woman–well, girl, fresh out of highschool. Years of trust and promises crushed with just a single sentence and a slam of the door. Time must’ve changed you for him to leave so heartlessly. Time must’ve changed him to become so cold. 

 It was proven again when you were able to heal despite never believing you could. Seconds of pain turned to minutes, to hours. Days. weeks. Months. Years of pain before being able to wake up and feel somewhat numb to it all. Like a flip switch in your head that told you that you can be happy now even if as a single mother. After all, the hard part was over. 

It took some four to five years, but it did happen. Time did change you, it healed you, it matured you. As your child grew, so did you. And for the better, you think. You count your blessings of living a life far more lavish than you ever could have anticipated given the circumstances that had been thrown at you. Even to the point of nesting, wanting another child, wanting a big and happy family. But alas, your ex husband had better things to do. 

At the end of the day, you’d never be able to call this home yours if you had stayed with your ex husband. He didn’t like this kind of “flashy” lifestyle, and to him, everything you wanted seemed too flashy for him. Perhaps he was right to some extent, as you recognize the brand name goods you now own, solely because you had promised yourself in the depths of your despair that you’ll get to a point in life where you can buy yourself everything you not only need, but want. So, here you are, owning an expensive home, in a nice neighborhood, with a nice car and a nice pool. 

Your daughter has everything she could want and need too, aside from a sibling, it’s certainly still more than what you had growing up and it’s all because of you. A fully decorated bedroom drenched in glitter, purples, creams, yellows, and pink, her favorite color. All sorts of play houses, costumes, dolls, a few lego sets, and even some plastic swords and knives for the days she wants to pretend to be her favorite movie characters. Clothes she can grow into, and a nice little fund building up for her as she grows up. Her first car, college, help for a downpayment on her own first house. 

Both of you have everything you could ever want or need and for that, you’re so proud. Especially knowing your husband would have never believed you could make it this far without him. Still, despite having everything you could ever ask for, there’s something in you that feels empty.

Time changes things. 

Time changes a lot of things, you note more than usual, as the man you’ve been ogling for the past three weeks makes himself far more known to you than you ever wished he would.

The interaction with him was always so quick before today and given the fact that he was a complete stranger, you never quite invited him into your home considering–you know, small child and all. You had hired him over text. Haechan, your neighbor said his name was. His handsome features didn’t offer you anything more than a clean pool and a wandering eye. 

Your neighbor apparently has a friend who has a cousin that has an even nicer pool than you do. Given, it’s only a nicer pool due to the fact that this young man, Haechan, tended to it weekly and made damn sure it could be drunk out of if a person had a craving for chlorine. 

You feel like an idiot now that it didn’t dawn on you quick enough. Sure, he looked a bit familiar to you but who doesn’t when you’re always out and about seeing so many different faces on a daily basis? His name, Haechan, didn’t ring any bells. Now though, the shame of staring at his sweaty pecs and biceps came crashing down the moment you realized who Haechan actually is. 

He didn’t do a damn thing to remind you either, if anything, all he did was walk around all sweaty in the afternoon heat with his tank top either sticking to him, or off entirely. It appears that you had just been too busy running errands with your child, considering his shifts were always when you were home. Too busy cooking, cleaning, reading, lounging. Too busy looking at…well, not his face. 

Too busy to give the man a glance more than that of a slice of pie behind a bakery window. 

Haechan. 

Since fucking when was that his name?

“Lee Donghyuck.” You whimper near mortified, three weeks too late as you hand him his pay with nervous hands. “Spray-cheese in my hair Donghyuck?” 

“Ah, was wondering when you’d pick up on that.” He smiles at you with that crooked grin, a knowing look that any man at a bar would give you if he had caught you checking him out. Then, he pockets the hefty amount of cash that you hand to him. “I go by Haechan more often these days.” He trails off, an amused smirk half-falling as he looks at your expression of realization. “You can call me whatever you want though.”

He’s well aware of how often you’ve checked him out since he started intentionally taking his clothes off. After all, it’s mid-july by this point and the sun baring down on him doesn’t quite call for a fucking turtle neck sweater. Or a T-shirt, or a tank top, for that matter. It calls for all skin baby, beautifully tanned and toned for you and any of your neighbors to look at if they so wanted to. 

Haechan doesn’t work out for nothing, after all. Summer after summer, he’s found himself to be quite fond of the rich women that hire him for their pool services. Always wanting an attractive young man to wander around half naked and satiate their lack of sex life with their husbands, or boytoys, or what have you. He knows all that extra pay isn’t because he does a good job either. He’s gotten winks, small comments, even a few offers of his body for more pay.

He’s turned them all down, of course. For a full-on affair, anyway. Haechan has gotten a few blow jobs and quickies as a tip before though, and a lot of that is why he keeps getting referred to more women. Richer women. Never single women. 

Until you. 

He quite enjoyed catching you looking at him. Especially given the fact that he knew exactly who you were when you introduced yourself to him via text. That little childhood crush on you came back within an instant upon actually seeing you again. Truly, he had forgotten all about you up until that fateful day three weeks ago. 

If he’s being honest, he’s been pining something fierce since he first stepped foot on your property. Excitement swelled inside of him just to see you again. To see if you’re still hot, to see how you’re doing, what you’re doing. How your life is going.

 He knew you didn’t recognize his nickname through text, and he definitely knew you didn’t recognize him to be eating him up with those eyes of yours either. So, he played along, enjoying it while he could before it would inevitably dawn on you. Still, he remembers you so well from back then. Crazy to know that he rarely thought of you for the past twelve years or so, and how all those little butterflies of his came back in a far more mature way. He was only twelve back then, but he’s a man now. 

Twenty four and perfectly sound as a man who knows what he likes. The fact that you happen to fall into that category is no fault of his own, honestly. It’s your fault if anyone’s at all. Haechan is a man that likes a specific type of woman too. Woman. Not a girl, not a young lady, not a free spirit, nor a prude. He is drawn to the idea of experience, to the idea of settling down. It’s not easy to find that at his age, in college, surrounded by party girls and casual drug use. 

And, well, imagine his smile upon seeing your lovely, lavish home with the large pool, no ring on your finger, a whole fucking child, and your motherly instincts when you buckle her into the car for an errand. Oh and the broken fence in the far back of your yard.

You’re a single mom. 

A hot single mom who lives lavishly. One who could probably use a man’s help around your house.

He half expected you to be able to recognize him when he appeared for work the first time. He even had a monologue in his head on what to say to you, and how to present himself. You didn’t seem to take notice though, introducing yourself to him as if you hadn’t spent all that time in his childhood home when you were a teenager. Like you never mothered him, or put him to sleep with the soft stories when you let him watch all those scary movies before bed. Even at twelve, he was a scaredy cat.

 Clearly you’re too busy experiencing life to notice the way he fawns over you too. Hating how you’re more reserved than the other lavish, fixed-up women. You seem to have standards, or maybe it’s just priorities ... that's so hot. Truly, it only makes him want you more because by now, the other women would already be rubbing all over him. The ones who shouldn’t be wanting him the way they do. So, yes, he’s always stealing glances at you with sparkling dark eyes, fantasizing in his head that this pool is his to clean now, because that’s what a good man would do for you, right? With him around servicing your pool and lawn, you’d never need to hire or spend money on another broke ass college student again.

Yes. That’s how quickly he fell into this infatuation solely because you looked at him like you want it without realizing who he was. Hell, without realizing how perfect you are in terms of what he wants.

God, how are you still single? 

Like, why do you have a child and a house so beautiful without a man wandering around doing all of this work for you? Not that you couldn’t do it on your own, it’s just, you clearly have the means to make a man do as you please. Why haven’t you?

You happen to fall almost perfectly into the categories of what he’s looking for. Save for the fact that now you recognize him as that kid you used to babysit rather than the man who tries to be sexy while cleaning your pool. Which is a fucking shame, if he’s being honest, to be written off as that same ten year old child rather than a fucking man who very clearly has needs and desires. 

The point is– Haechan wants you and he parades around your pool for you to look at him. So what if you used to babysit him? It’s not like you’re an old swamp-hag trying to lure him with candy. You’re just…a woman. And he’s just a man. 

“Well, thank you for cleaning again,” You trail off in an awkward tone, shifting your eyes to anywhere but him. He watches you though, smiling a smile you know all too well from his childhood antics. It must mean something different now, or maybe not. “I guess I’ll see you next week?” 

“Well, actually,” Haechan offers, “Would you be opposed to–” You cut him off instantly with an awkward wave of your hand.

You don’t know why you make assumptions, maybe from that damned smile on his face, but you do recall your ex husband reminding you time and time again that it’s one of the things he hated about you. 

Assumptions. Always thinking the worst, or perhaps the most filthy of situations and expressions. To be fair, you feel guilty about how you’ve been looking at him, you can’t help but panic trying to pretend like it never happened, and that he never saw it happen.

“I’m not interested, Donghyuck.” You respond hastily, pressing your thumb to your bottom lip to bite the skin on it, keeping your eyes away from him with the awkward words. After all, he knew who you were this whole time and paraded around like that? 

Even before recognizing him yourself, you know men well enough to know when they’re trying to flaunt. Is it so wrong to assume?

“Interested in what?” Haechan tilts his head knowingly, seeing the way you buckle under the guilt of staring at the very man you used to tuck into bed every night. He can see the way you try to push those sexual thoughts you had away in the quick rejection to a simple assumption. 

 “I was just going to ask if you want me to fix your fence.” 

Ah, you did get ahead of yourself through the guilt, and you’re far too aware of it as you draw your eyes back to him and note the expression on his face. Amused, maybe a bit of concern in his eyes, even? 

“Ah, um–” You start, trailing your eyes down your fence line never once noticing a break in it. Haechan is quick to point though, leaning to you with a whisper of “right there.” And well, you did not need to hear that tone in his voice the way you just did.

God, it’s so awkward.

“Well, how much would that cost me?” You question with an empty voice, staring at the broken fence. 

“Free.” He uses the same tone, leaning away from you now and smiling wide. “That is, if you provide lunch.” 

Well, despite the awkwardness, that break over there would cost you a pretty penny to fix, and your daughter needs the safety of playing in her own yard without random animals or worse, people, making their way in. Plus, you’re quite fond of saving money. How else would you be here if you weren’t good at it? And now, given that you’re most definitely not interested in Haechan, what's the harm in making a few sandwiches for someone you already know well enough? It’s not like you’ve never made him lunch before.

The awkwardness will pass and your guilt will subside. You both will laugh at it over a cold glass of iced lemonade, surely. It’s not like you realized who he was anyway, it’s not like you’re just gonna keep looking at him like that. You should just push forward and it’ll all be fine. 

“Hell, I’d even watch the kiddo so you can have a break every now and then.” He watches your reaction, wanting to ask so many questions about why you’re single, who the father is, where he is, why he isn’t here. “After all, I learned quite a bit from you.” 

For a second you consider that too.

And there’s three reasons as to why you should. The first being that you were literally just looking for a new child care facility due to learning of the staff coming to work while sick. Your poor daughter came home with a fever just last week, and you’ve had little luck in finding a place with the same educational benefits for her. 

The second being that, well, while you’re not hurting for cash or anything, it wouldn’t hurt to be able to put a little more back for her college fund. Or for fun little vacations. 

And lastly, despite your guilt of lusting over someone you shouldn’t have, you know Donghyuck and you know his family even better. No background check would be needed, your daughter could be in the comfort of her own home rather than a classroom setting that she’s sure to see for at least twenty years of her life in the future. 

So, yes. You consider it instantly, and Haechan sees it. 

You only know of the childhood version of him and, well, the slutty pool-side version of him apparently. If only you knew of that other side of him and how fond he is of watching his own younger cousins. How good he is with children, and how much he clings to the idea of being a father one day.

Haechan is great with kids, with or without them having a hot mom.

And well, he knows that he’s fond of looking at you at least. Besides, as long as you can work with his class schedules, he’d be willing to do just about anything to play pretend-husband, even if you’re unaware of it. 

“Is that so?” You finally ask, curious eyes looking at him with a furrowed brow. “Shouldn’t you be out living the life? College parties and such?” You add, wondering why such a great deal has managed to flop down on your lap. The idea of even cheaper childcare without the risk of unvaccinated children, and sick caretakers being far too good of a deal to pass up. 

“Well, yeah I guess.” He shrugs, leaning backwards to stretch and roll his shoulders. “Not really my scene though. I have classes Monday and Wednesday all day, Tuesday and Thursdays my classes are online. If you can work around that, I’d rather just be making money and chilling.” 

You think about it just for a second more when he continues. 

“I can be here on weekends too. Maybe you should be the one out relaxing and having some drinks.” 

“Well, I don’t quite need that, or for you to be here on weekends.” You think as you say it, knowing you have given up on going out to try and meet men two years ago. “I could pay you though, let’s say, thirty an hour?” 

Well, shit, that’s not too bad at all, especially considering he’s about to give up on cleaning the pools of a few women in his contacts for this. It’s a major pay cut, but still enough to get by comfortably if you’ll have him multiple times a week. That plus the pool cleaning money? And free lunch? 

“Oh, you don’t go out at all? I don’t see why not, could probably get a man in no time–” Haechan ignores the wage offer and pushes to note the singlehood he had been noticing for the past three weeks. “and the pay is fine.” 

“Ah, well, the dating pool isn’t so great in this neck of the woods.” You scratch the back of your neck when you say it. “That aside, I'll have her in day care on the days you can’t be here, but it really would be a big help. Thank you for the offer, Donghyuck. And for the fence too.” 

He watches you with a firm nod, shoving his hands into the pockets of his basketball shorts, still entirely shirtless in front of you. 

“And the pool.” You add quietly after a moment. 

“I think you’d be surprised about the dating pool.” He smiles as he pushes the subject back to what you had previously said, hoping you believe those words before continuing. “So, when do you want me to start?” 

“Is tomorrow too soon? You’re okay to set up here with your online classes?”

“Tomorrow is perfect.” He smiles.

“I’m sure she would be so happy knowing she won’t be going to daycare–” You clap, feeling a bit less awkward despite the boldness of the man in front of you. You’re sure he’s just teasing you for knowing you checked him out. “I know I am.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s a little too perfect, actually.

After that first day of watching your child and making a lazy attempt at “fixing your fence,” he’s settled in like it’s home. He wishes it was, with the lavish lifestyle in a house far too pretty compared to his own living space with piles upon piles of laundry he’s too lazy to pick up for himself. 

It’s different for you though. Different when he’s here.

Truly, he feels like he’s living the life after a couple of weeks with decent pay and a comfy space to do his homework. He watches your child, which is arguably the hardest part of the job but she’s well behaved for him. In fact, she seems to have taken a shine to him.

He’s starting to be very intentional with taking far too long to work on your fence too, and still maintaining your pool. He’s trying to drag this out for as long as he can. Even if just to see if you still look at him when you come home the same way you did before recognizing him. You never do though. When his shirt is off and he’s wiping his forehead in the sun, you don’t look at him anymore.

Hell, he’s even considered breaking things in your home just to give himself more jobs to do. More things that make him feel needed, like a husband. More things that you thank him for fixing, even if it breaks again two days later.

And ah, the food in your fridge is always free reign to him, that large television in the living room too. God, sometimes he dreads going home, and by sometimes, he means all the time. Who in their right mind would ever fucking want to live outside of this lifestyle? He really can’t believe you’re single, nor can he believe that he has the opportunity to be in your home, close to you. It shouldn’t take too long now to convince you, right? That you don’t necessarily have to be single? That you need him around to live even more comfortably?

In short, Haechan is in his head about how he’s practically just roleplaying as your stay-at-home husband before having to go back to his shitty little apartment and remind himself that he’s just a fucking college student with no interest in the people on campus. And like, even with the way you come home from work, all groggy and exhausted on the days he’s there, you always thank him before giving him his pay. What he likes best about those nights is when you’re too exhausted to even pay him and you promise to do it next time.

In his mind, that’s you promising to see him again. 

He could give less of a shit about the pay at this point, as long as he gets to be in this house, smelling your favorite candles and dish detergents, seeing you, being a semi-father to a child who deserves more love than the two of you combined can give…he’ll fucking do anything you want for free. 

It’s difficult sometimes, like he really can’t help it. Some days wandering around this house and imagining how the two of you could have landed on buying it together. How the rooms would be organized if he were here from the start. Claiming his spot on your couch like any dad would. Playing dolls with your daughter, laughing with her, letting her paint his nails and put his hair in little pigtails. He even cleans your pool as if it were his own, meaning, he genuinely cleans it. 

He has taken it upon himself to mow your lawn, confusing the yard workers that you apparently hired years ago. Did he accidentally fire them? Maybe, but any good husband would save you money, right? He checks your mail, waves to your neighbors and lets them make assumptions. 

And every single fucking night it’s harder and harder to go back home.

Especially after a full day of playing dad then seeing you come back so tired. Turning off that switch in his head isn’t easy. He wants to greet you like the husband you don’t have. He wants to ease your hard days in so many ways. Tell you he’s proud of you, that you still look so pretty after an exhausting shift of whatever the fuck you do. He wants to serve you dinner, run you a bath, fix your hair, lay you down– oh, he’s fantasizing again. Unfortunately, he has to settle with seeing the relief on your face when he lets you know in a soft voice that he’s cooked dinner and he will heat it up for you before leaving, kiddo is in her room sleeping, no dishes in the sink, and laundry is folded and put away. 

He loves the appreciation in your eyes, and sometimes even sees a glint of sadness. He can tell you wish you had this from a person who isn’t here for pay. Someone who loves you, and loves your child, and feels joy in making your life easier. 

Fuck, if only you knew. 

And  you’d be lying if you tried to say Haechan isn’t a godsend to you on the days he babysits. Many times you find yourself wishing he’d just move in and do everything that you can’t do. You’d pay him well, give him a guest room, whatever. But it’s just…not viable to support a full time employee like that, nor is it fair to your daughter. 

She needs a parent, not a paid college student who needs some extra cash. You have to be that parent, you have to make time for her and witness all of her joys in life. You have to protect her and never bring in faces of men who claim to want to be a father, only to run and break her heart more than your own. 

For now, you settle with this godsend of a little shit you used to babysit. Still you can barely believe that’s the same person, but again…time changes things. And thankfully, the awkwardness of what you did has died down drastically.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Today, you’re more thankful for Haechan than you have been previously. After a heavy workload has been lifted off your back with the approval of this project, you need a night out. For the first time in years, you’re giving yourself a night out, all because you have someone you can trust to be here for your daughter.

He was so understanding when you called,  happy to come over right then and there to put her to bed and mostly just house-sit for the night. Even without an end time for him, and even without asking for extra pay, he just…accepted with an understanding tone and that stupid breathy chuckle he gives to you when you ask for favors. “What? You need me there right now? I’m putting on my shoes.” He had said.

It’s the fact that now, as he sits on your couch looking at you in your chosen outfit– he seems a little off. Maybe it’s because you asked him where the best spots in town are because it’s been so long since you’ve gone out, or maybe he just feels awkward seeing so much skin on your body. 

To be fair, he didn’t realize you were going out out. He thought that maybe you were gonna go stay with a friend to celebrate and have a drink or two. 

In reality though, he’s just awestruck. Already you look great even after your busy days at work but…this is a different level. The way your tits look in that push-up bra and tiny ass top, when he’s used to seeing you head out in some sort of business casual outfit without an ounce of skin showing save for your ankles or wrists…jesus. He’s struggling more than usual to keep himself calm around you, hopping up on one leg when you walk away to try and adjust the chub in his pants, and releasing a small sigh before you’re looking at him again.

His skin feels like it’s on fire knowing you’re going out looking like that.

“You sure you're okay to sleep over? I figure it’ll be easier since I’m not sure when I’ll come home, or if I come home.” You smile with a wink, your stomach in knots over the two shots you’ve taken for the first time in years. “I can call my friends and tell them not to come if you’d rather focus on your studies.” 

Haechan shakes his head, waving his hands in defense for you as if he didn’t just see the way your tits bounce and squish against your shirt with each move you make. 

“No, no! Go on, have fun.” He says, encouraging you to go out despite hoping you come home with no luck of finding a man out there. 

Just, look at you. Fuck, he’s staring again. He hates knowing that he could be one of the guys at whatever bar or club you’re landing on tonight. He could be the person that makes sure you don’t come home, getting to plant his face right there. He could be whatever you want him to be if you’re looking like that. 

But no, he has to play husband again, which is normally something he’s all too excited to do. Tonight though, he feels like a fucking cuckold. After everything he does for you, after not mentioning how you’ve skipped a few of his payments, after slaving away for hours over your pool, your household chores, fixing and breaking that fucking dishwasher, cooking you dinner every single night he’s here just to make sure you have a meal when you get off of work…you imply you may not come home tonight?

And you’re dressed like that?

And you’re…

God, you just look so good right now. It pains him to know you didn’t dress like this for him, the only man who cares enough to make your life easy. He’s not mad at you, per se, but he’s pissed that you don’t see him as an option despite showing you time and time again that not only is he an option, but the right choice. 

This is what you look like when you want to impress a man? This is how you act? How you talk? Fuck, god, fuck– maybe he’s just too deep in his one-sided roleplay but it really, really fucking feels like he’s watching his woman go off and look for someone else to fuck.

“Thank you, Donghyuck,” You smile, walking over to him with a saunter in your step and a gentle smile across your lips. 

He’s never heard you speak his name so sensually, the way his cock twitches forces him to wince away from you. He’s never even seen you saunter before. Fucking hell, somehow it feels worse seeing you act like this after how many times he’s imagined it, all alone in his room. 

A slow walk from you, with the strap of your shirt slipping off your shoulder, fat tits threatening to spill out, lifting the hem of your skirt, or dress, or whatever you’re wearing in his fantasy at that point. Your voice, so soft, so sexy. And you’re practically bringing his fantasy to life right now, except he knows you’re going to fucking walk away from him like this. Into the fucking arms of some random dude at a club. 

Probably some loser he’s seen on campus too.

“It means a lot.” You add, popping a quick, platonic kiss to the top of his forehead. 

Ah, lip gloss. That little kiss on him is enough to ignite him to the point of no return. He almost wants to skip the part of asking you not to go and straight up just beg that you pick him, that you choose him. It’s not just your home, or the luxuries that come with it. It’s you that he wants. You’re the fucking luxury and you’re just gonna go to some sticky-floored club and pretend he’s not clearly checking you the fuck out right now? Like he’s not about three seconds from dropping to his knees just to see you from the angle you deserve?! 

“It’s no problem.” Haechan relents, dropping himself onto your couch instead and adjusting his body to sink deep into the cushions just to keep himself from arguing against everything he’s giving you permission to do right now. 

Hah. Permission.

“Be safe.” He adds in an even more monotone voice. “I’ll be here when you get back.” 

And god, he seethes in his thoughts after you close that door and hop into the car with your friends. You don’t look like a mother tonight, and he wonders if you’ll be upfront and forward with anyone you intend to hit on too. Probably not. He’s well aware of the men in this city, after all, he’s one of them.

It’s really not something he can control after seeing you like that either. Your child is already in bed and he’s just sitting here on your couch with a throbbing, fucking weeping cock thinking about you. What’s stopping him from taking care of it? You’re not here, after all. 

You’re not fucking here. But everything about you is. 

And that’s how he finds himself in your bedroom for the first time, barely making it a foot into the room before closing the door and dropping to the floor. The scent in your room is different. It’s feminine, gentle, like the energy is kissing him all over and sending goosebumps straight to the head of his cock. He couldn’t even pull it out, already holding his breath with his hand down his pants, vigorously trying to get what he wants so badly yet knowing that his hand will never compare to you. 

And it’s here where he feels like a husband. Spilling against his pants with a silent, choked back sob as he stares forward at your bed, and the way you didn’t make it this morning. It’s messy, and he wants to be in that mess of sheets with you more than anything. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Haechan hates that he’s now forced to get used to your late night ventures. Every weekend now. Every. Fucking. Weekend.  You ask if he’s willing to stay over so you can go unwind, and despite his better (or worse) judgment, he accepts. The only solace he finds in these ventures is knowing you consistently come back home right after usual closing times, and you’re mostly sober. Sometimes a bit whiny that you’re not lucking out, worrying that maybe you’re too old now, or maybe you’re just not as desirable. There have even been a few times where you’ve exposed your ex husband during your rants, giving Haechan little hints to follow as to why you’re single, and how he left you. 

Still, he knows in your tipsy state that you usually wouldn’t talk about these things with him, but he’s all too happy to get the details once you come home. Mostly because it calms his rising rage at how you’re doing this to not only him, but yourself. It’s mostly because you’re technically coming home to him though. 

And every single time, you go back to your bedroom to grab his payment even though it could wait until morning, considering he’s been sleeping in the guest room– all he can think about is how he’s been in your room. He’s gotten off countless times by now by the smell of your room alone, still barely able to even reach your bed to lay in it himself for a better experience. God, he’s probably memorized each little fray in your carpeted bedroom floor by now with how much he’s zoned out on it mid-jerk off session right there on his knees at your door. 

He’s truly pathetic for you. 

This time though…three in the morning has passed and normally you’d have been stumbling through the door an hour ago. Normally, he’d be fighting back the need to tell you that you’re beautiful, not too old, and entirely desirable. Normally, he would be fisting his cock again in your guest room before sleep, getting off on the idea that he can cum in a house that you live in, smothered by the sheets you meticulously picked out to match the walls of the room. Moaning for you, practically crying for you to let him do it all. 

Have you really done it this time? Gone off with some man? Are you getting railed right now in some hotel, or car, or someone’s shitty man-cave? God, his mind is racing, both aroused at the fact that you must be horny to be constantly wanting to go out like this, but equally as devastated because like…he’s right here.

Who the fuck cares if you babysat him? He’s a man. No longer that child who sprayed cheese in your hair or dumped salt into the bag of sugar. He’s a fucking man, cooking you dinner when you work, parenting your child, cleaning your house, maintaining your pool and fence….He does everything for you, why the fuck don’t you see it?!

Click.

Haechan’s ears perk up instantly at the sound. He sits up on the couch from his depressed slump of scrolling through his phone, quickly fixing his hair and clearing his throat. 

In you stumble, right into the little entryway table with a whisper-scream of “Shit, fuck–”

Haechan looks at your state before standing to his feet and rushing to you, helping you balance on your feet despite your footing not quite being grounded even with his help. You lean on him closely, letting out an alcohol scented sigh. 

His nostrils flare as he holds his breath, feeling your tit press against his arm, smelling the drinks, the sweat, and the dulled perfume on you. Then, a hint of something else. Musk. 

You’ve been with a man. 

He holds back a gesture at the way you lean on him. Nothing more he could want at this moment but to hold you tightly and tell you that he’s got you, despite the panic in his stomach at the way he sniffs out another man. Out of lust, love, desperation, frustration. This is the closest you’ve been to him for this long. You feel clammy and cold, a clear indication that you drank far, far too much. Your tank top is sticking to you, your eyes are a bit glassy–

“You’re late.” He says shortly.

“Late?!” You raise your voice before looking at him with drowsy eyes, furrowing your brow. “I don’t have a curfe-”

“Shh–” He shushes you, helping you get to the living room. “She’s sleeping and you’re going to have her make a fuss about waking up.”

You giggle to yourself as he drops you onto the couch, now aware that yes, you are not a single college student anymore. You’re a single woman. A fucking mother. 

You should’ve just gotten a hotel for the night and slept there to dream a little longer. 

“Right.” You laugh, slouching, spreading out wide against the couch and trying to fix your gaze on him. “Why’re you still awake?” 

Haechan fixes his eyes on you, swallowing around a lump in his throat. The way you’re slouching…seemingly forgetting that you’re wearing a skirt and basically flashing your panties at him. God, the things could do to you right now. The things he could get away with if he wanted to. He tries to shake those thoughts for now, and instead, inspects you from head to toe.

He’s never seen you look so relaxed. Chest raising and falling with each breath, hair a little messy, lipstick stains smeared on the outsides of your lip line. He chooses to ignore the faint swell against your neck indicating someone has been sucking on you. But, well, he can’t ignore it. Both his cock and heart aches at the very thought.

“You’ve been kissing?” Haechan tries to ask nonchalantly. 

“A lot more than that–” You smile, feeling a flush cross your cheeks before the disappointment hits you square in the gut. 

Haechan watches your face fall, and he mimics it by falling onto the couch and sitting by your head…you know, allowing you to lay your head on him if you want to. You’d probably not notice his arousal anyway, given your state. 

“Oh?” He asks gently, the disappointment now showing plainly on not just your face, but his own.

“Thought I was gonna go home with him, turns out he decided to be done after a blowjob in the parking lot.”

Oh, the way his blood boils. Not for the fact that you were used or rejected, but for the fact that you found someone that you were interested in and genuinely intended to leave your home life in his hands for however fucking long. Really? Just gonna leave him here all alone? Like he couldn’t do better for you?

“It’s for the better–” Haechan says as he shivers with irritation, struggling to keep his facade up. It’s definitely not what you wanted to hear, and definitely not what you’d have expected to hear from a college guy at all either.

“This happened last time too, except he didn’t even get me to the parking lot.” You huff, unaware of how much you’re sharing right now. 

He bites back the anger yet again, inhaling deeply before releasing a calming breath through his nose just to contain it. So…it has happened more than once? 

“Why don’t you let me take you out someday?” He says suddenly, well aware that you’ll probably never remember he said it in the first place. 

If anything, he’s testing the waters for his own sake. He’d hate himself forever if he didn’t at least take advantage of this moment a little bit. 

“Then who will watch my daughter?” You respond in slurred speech, not even comprehending who it is that’s asking you this question right now. Not even thinking about your history with him, or the family ties. 

He, on the other hand, is quite entertained by the way you don’t bring the history up like he expected. His cock twitches at it, bumping your head just a bit, not enough for you to notice apparently. Fuck, it would be so easy for him to pull it out right now, and just…tap your lips with it. 

Maybe you’d even open your mouth for him. 

“I’ll skip class on a Wednesday, we can go while she’s still in daycare.” He continues through an almost-moan, encouraging the conversation to stay positive.

“Donghyuck–” You slur before clearing your throat and sitting back up in a dizzy show of how drunk you are. “You know I can’t do that. It’s too weird.” 

In all fairness, you know he has like…a thing for you. After all, why else would a college dude be spending his weekends here babysitting your kid? It’s not like you haven’t noticed the way he checks you out before you go out for the night. Why would he do all of this if he didn’t have some sort of attraction to you? Sure, you’re taking advantage of it as best as you can despite how you didn’t recognize him at first. 

Despite how deep down, you very well know how attracted to him you are too. 

“Only because you make it weird.” Haechan rolls his eyes as he looks at you, spreading his legs out to adjust his comfort, noting the way you glance down to his lap and see it. “I’m a grown man–” He starts, spreading his legs wider, pressing his cock against his pants to the point you can practically see the outline.”you know this.” He continues, trying to be bold now by reaching forward and moving a strand of your hair from your cheek. 

“You’ve seen it.”

You freeze, suddenly feeling entirely too sober to be talking about this kind of thing with him. With Donghyuck. God, his mother would fucking kill you if she found out he’s in your house while you’re out trying to get fucked by whoever is willing to love you temporarily. 

Haechan sees you thinking though, and continues to take the advantage now that he’s feeling brave. Now that you’ve seen the twitch in his pants and haven’t moved off the couch, or told him to go home. 

“I saw you watching me when I was cleaning your pool, multiple times.” He whispers snidely. “You stopped when you realized who I am. Why?”

“Donghyu–…” You trail off. “You know this isn’t okay. What would people think of me? There are rules, and I will not go down this route with you.”

A rush of air hits your face and suddenly, warmth hits your cheek. You feel him so close, closer than ever before. It’s dizzying. Haechan is over you, hovering with one hand ghosting over your hip. 

“You want to though, don’t you?” He gets even closer now, darting his eyes down at your chest and unable to pull them away. “Knowing how good I am with your daughter? How well I clean up? How strong I can be–”

You swallow hard. For a moment, you almost lean into him. You almost melt right then and there, the need for intimacy so heavy inside of you after being left high and dry, knowing that you’d accept it from just about anyone at this point. But– this is Donghyuck. You can’t. 

You really, really, can’t. 

The look of disappointment in his eyes kind of hurts when you’re pushing him away. That playful smirk falling faster than you think your sanity did the day your ex husband left you. 

“This–” You pause, realizing all too well how he’s used your drunken state against you for this conversation. “This is your last paycheck.”

“I don’t think so.” The smirk is back now, except…it’s different. “You know I promised her a Barbie dream house next weekend.” He smiles fully now. “She’s a bit attached, you know, even called me dad by accident the other day.” 

You’re shocked. 

“She…what?”

“You know she’s attached to me already, don’t be selfish.” Haechan shrugs at you while rolling his eyes, leaning against the couch again and turning his head to look at you. You try to pretend that you don’t see his hand slightly groping himself. “Guess she misses having a father around. Can’t be too easy for her, especially with her mom going out every weekend trying to fuck guys who would run the second they learn about her.” He ticks his tongue now, as if he’s pitying you more than your daughter. 

“Donghyuck, that’s not–”

“That’s not, what?”

“That’s not what I’m doing…” You lower your voice to a near whisper, upset that you couldn’t even enjoy the drunken state you came home in, now feeling entirely too sober, and a little sick in the stomach. 

“Oh, so you haven’t gotten laid since I’ve been here–” He leans closer again now, trying to resume what he was going to do just moments ago. “They haven’t even touched you, have they?” His hands move to your thigh and presses down as if to hold you in place. “Why?”

“I try not to just sleep with anyone.” You lie, knowing you’d sleep with anyone just to feel wanted for once. And you’re trying to ignore his hands on you right now, trying desperately not to like it. It’s the first time a man has touched you in this house since your husband left you. As expected, you almost feel your knees buckle despite sitting comfortably. “I have to be careful, you know?”

“Mm, I know more than you think.” He leans into you, hovering yet again with his upper half over you as he whispers it. “Don’t need to be careful around me though.” He adds, this time trailing his voice right against your jaw, up to your ear. “You must be so frustrated.” He ghosts his lips there for a moment, waiting for you to push him away, or say something, anything, really. 

“Why would I be frustrated?” You lend the smallest of whispers, feeling the goosebumps against your skin rising at the mere thought of giving in just this once.

“Not having anyone to please you.” He adds now, landing a very slight kiss right under your lobe. “Always being used for someone else’s pleasure, maybe?”

You almost nod, feeling weak in your state and thoughts swimming with what if’s, morals, and anxieties. You’re frozen in place despite knowing a simple push would create the distance you need to breathe. 

“Your fingers will never be enough, will they?” He continues, essentially chaining you to this couch with his words alone. You can’t help the fight in your head, you need to feel wanted, and you want so badly to feel needed. “I bet you wish someone would love you for all that you are, not all that you have.” 

It’s silent as you feel his lips press down again, this time moving his body over you almost entirely. You can feel the couch dip a bit as he places all of his weight on a knee, moving his other leg to stand between yours.

“You must need someone to fill that hole in you by now, right? That pussy of yours?” He continues, his tone a bit more snide now as you give in to his hold with shaky breaths. 

And truthfully, Haechan has never let himself come on this strong towards someone before. Usually the wives are doing this to him. They’re trying to convince him, encourage him. He’s so fucking horny right now though, with that daze in your eye, your legs spread around his knee, blinking up at him like a cheating wife. As if you want to apologize, as if you need him to forgive you. Need him to make everything better.

“I heard you the other day, you know, talking to your mom–” He smiles, tilting his head to look into your eyes, seeing a small shine in them. “You want another, don’t you?” He continues, moving his lips now just over yours as he, now, presses you firmly against the couch. “You must hate knowing that I’m the only person who can do that for you.” 

“God, Haechan.” You immediately buckle, not realizing how suddenly he’s not Donghyuck at this moment. He’s someone else. He’s Haechan.

“Why don’t you go for girls on campus?! Don’t you have parties to be attending on the weekends instead of being here, trying to parent my chil–”

“Lower that voice of yours,” He whispers, eyes now hooded as he looks at you. “You know she’s asleep.”

God, he’s right. 

“Besides, why would I want them when I have you right here under me–” He tilts his head. “Looking so disappointed that you like it, too.” 

Right then, your moral code shines into the front of your mind at the consideration of giving in.

A weight on one shoulder chanting, “No! What would people say?! What would people think?!”, and then little to no weight on the other shoulder, echoing in a sweet song of “Finally! Someone who will love you! Finally! Someone! Finally!!! Finally!” 

You pause, not knowing at all what to do. Your body wants to push him away, even your mind and soul wants you to push him away. But you know deep down, you’d only push him away to see if he will try again. No man has ever tried for you like this, and you need more of it. 

To feel desired after so long of neglecting this side of yourself, it’s enough to make a person lose their footing in reality. To give in to just about anyone willing to look at you the way he is right now. It’s the fact that you go out to try and find it, and even with this alone, Haechan has satisfied you more than any stranger promising to make you cum.

“I…don’t know what to say–” You stutter. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I do.” Haechan smiles, glancing at your lips before meeting your eye again. “Why not hand over the reins and relax for a–” His hand dips under your skirt, cupping your sensitive cunt in one hand alone. “Ah, I knew it.” Then, his other hand finds purchase on your chest, lifting your heavy breast in his hand with a blatant, hard squeeze.

After a sharp inhale you look away from him in shame, afraid to admit it despite the truth of it leaking through your panties and onto his palm.

“Wet.” He smiles, no longer looking at you but flicking his eyes back and forth from between your legs, and to your chest. Still, he fumbles around the wet spot, wanting so badly to lift these fingers to his mouth and taste. He’s fantasized about it, about how you’d taste, how warm it would be, what your pussy would feel like against his fingers–

And just as he’s pushing your panties to the side, pads of his fingers touching right where you need them with his eyes hooded and watching you closely, something snaps.

You push his hand away, only to feel him push back, holding you down with more force, gripping your tit tighter, sliding his fingers in before massaging the slit with a blatant moan on his lips. Then, you try again, shoving him back only to hear him chuckle and continue his antics until– you jump to your feet. It felt too good, too grounding to have him touching you like this. You nearly stumble back over the coffee table, but you manage to stand tall and firm despite the fact that even though your mind feels sober, your body is fucking wasted.

“Donghyuck.” You argue immediately, using his name the same way you did when he was a child. “Stop.” 

He throws his hands up in defense, raising his brows in surprise. 

“I–” He pauses, staring at you. “I thought you were enjoying it, my mistake.” 

It’s the fact that you were. You were enjoying it too much, and there would have been no defending your actions if you had given in to the feeling. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, fucking stupid. That’s what you are. 

Your ex husband was right all along. Out of everything you’ve accomplished since your heart was shattered, ripped to shreds, stomped on, you’d think it would take a lot more to break you. 

“You ask for too much.” Your ex husband had said once. “You can’t even stand to be alone for one day.” He had said a year or so later. Small digs on who you are and what you need sprinkled into small arguments, only to come more and more from the lips that you kissed and promised to kiss until you die. Until all of his words were to make you feel inadequate. Until everything he said to you stuck with you, forcing your confidence to bury itself six feet under. 

Are you to blame? As it stands, maybe. Why else would you be allowing yourself to consider it? Consider Donghyuck, you mean. Never in your life would you have considered him of all people to be the one that you need. 

Never in your life would you have thought he’d be interested in a woman like you, in a situation like yours, with a child. Why did that night with him stick in your head more than every single mean thing your ex husband said to you? Why did his words seem more believable? 

Because you were drunk at the time? Wet, neglected, and drunk? 

Then why is it that you’re sitting here on your day off with your beautiful, bright-eyed daughter rummaging through your purse for whatever catches her eye….and you’re thinking about him? About what he's doing right now, how he’s feeling, if he’s eaten. 

Why is it that you’ve gone the entire week ignoring his texts, asking if you need him to come resume his job as babysitter? Why the fuck do you want to accept after how he took advantage of your state of mind? After he came onto you and tried to manipulate you? 

Despite all of his words ringing true in the back of your head. That was a dirty tactic he pulled on you. Yet, still…you want him back, and god fucking dammit you could cry knowing your daughter called him “dad.” You hadn’t believed him at first, but after this week alone it slipped from her mouth several times. 

“He’s not your dad, baby, that’s just Donghyuck.” You remember correcting her more than once, and all she responded to you with was a confused expression. 

“Why not?” Is what her little voice gave back to you after her child-like brain decided it was fed up with you correcting her very right assumption of the guy who promised her the Barbie Dream House. 

Why not?

Why not?

Well, if you could have an adult conversation with a five year old it would be much easier to answer that. Because he sprayed cheese in your hair. Because you were seventeen and his babysitter when he was twelve years old. Because you ogled him without recognizing him as your pool boy. Because of a lot of things.

“Uncle Donghyuck.” You finally corrected her again. 

She shook her head, and continued doing and saying as her little mind pleased. It made you miss having a father around for her though. You think she needs it more than you do. 

And that fucking Barbie Dream house is what brings Haechan back. 

Right at your doorstep today, with a gentle knock to the door and a timid smile on his face. He doesn’t even look at you when you open the door, instead he crouches down in front of you with the big, flashy box. He ignores you, tilting himself to look past you and straight at your daughter. 

You hold your breath when she runs to Haechan, arms spread open and laughter shrieking in your ears. Your heart aches so much at this moment. 

Given your work schedule, you’d never gotten to see them interact much. He always came over as she was eating her breakfast, and you always came home after she was put to bed. You guess it’s fair that they have a bond now. She doesn’t even run at you like she does for Haechan. In fact, the only time she ever does is when she had a bad day at daycare or had a tummy ache. 

She runs to you when she needs you, but she runs to Haechan like she wants to. Like she genuinely is attached to him, and his kind smile, and his eyes, and probably that warm embrace that you’ve never let yourself experience.

You watch them, not allowing yourself to melt at the moment because you did not invite him over, nor did you give consent to bring that fucking doll house here. But you can’t say no now, as she clings to his leg when he stands up and looks at you with an almost irritated glint in his eye. 

His eyes trail all over you briefly too, as if checking for any new spots or marks that a man could have put on you. You feel seen, dipping your head to not meet his eye and scratching your neck as if to hide a spot there. There isn’t a mark, it’s just…fear? nervousness? anxiety? 

And then he hauls the box in for her without saying a word to you. You watch him hard now that his back is turned. His voice sounds so loving when he speaks to your child as if she’s an equal. Plopping down on your living room floor with her and opening the large box. 

He Ooo’s and Aahhh’s with her as he pulls each piece out, connecting the walls, the doors, handing her little things to help him with. And both of them are so focused on the task at hand to create a safe space for all of her abused barbie dolls that… you feel invisible.

For the first time ever in front of them both, you feel like you are nothing but a ghost. That he is the single parent. As if you’re forgotten, less loved, not wanted, not even needed. 

There’s a bubbling in your gut when you tear up, reminding yourself that what Haechan did that night was probably just, well, he’s a man. Men aim to fuck at all times usually, and you guess you should have expected it at one point from him because, again, you’re aware that he’s attracted to you. Even more aware now. 

But the way you feel right now outshines that. He’s ignoring you to keep your child happy. She is ignoring you because it seems Haechan does a better job at it than you do. 

And, well, he’s not holding you down, whispering things in your ear, letting out frustrated little sighs at your drunken or drowsy words now. So, you say nothing. All you can do is go to the kitchen and prepare a snack, trying to force the tears to stay inside of you with quiet sniffles, hoping you can join their little picture perfect moment so that you can be helpful too. 

Your heart swells when they both look at you as you present a plate of snacks. You have to hold back tears again at the way their eyes shine, thanking you for the snacks. Haechan’s eyes stay on you a bit longer though, as if saying “See? See what you’re making her go without?” 

You do see it. 

But…it can’t be him. As much as you wish it could be, you just can’t. There has to be another man out there just like him, one that doesn’t have a history with you that would cause whispers and questions. There has to be. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

That moment you witnessed seems to have solidified Haechan’s place in your home. Whether it be for babysitting or simply so your child can see him when she’s asking for him (which is often.) It’s kind of an issue, actually, because now the choice isn’t yours anymore and it appears Haechan knows that.

You hate that you’re forced to see him for what he is now. How he proves himself over and over again to be the man you need. The issue is that you still don’t want it to be him. The bigger issue is that he’s breaking down your walls, doing little things for you, looking at you with those dark eyes– your resolve cracks and reminds you every time he’s here that maybe it could work. Maybe you’ll give him a chance. Maybe you won’t have to go out anymore looking to fill a void that no one else fits into. 

It’s the way that now, you can’t help but to compare him to your ex husband. The man who you loved for so long, who you genuinely thought you’d spend your life with happily and safely. Now, compared to Haechan, your ex seems like…nothing. Like a little crack in your resolve. He was older than you by just two years, took care of you for so long, impregnated you, and slowly but surely throughout all that time grew to resent you too.

You still don’t know why, but perhaps it’s just because you were growing into your own. You were becoming more independent, though he never had the capability to realize just how much you depended on him during the very time he left you. 

“I just don’t want to do this anymore.” Your ex had said to you on that fateful morning. 

Your belly was big as you tried to waddle up to him when he said that. You can’t help but think back now and wonder how pathetic you must have seemed when he yanked his arm from your grip, especially due to the difficulty of your pregnancy already. You were sick through most of it, only having a few good days here or there where that pregnancy glow would make your ex husband second-guess himself. 

The slam of the door after that was more exhausting than the months of pregnancy you’d gone through. It felt loud, so loud you could hear it vibrate throughout your whole body. You recall falling to the floor and carefully holding your stomach. It’s like all of the heartbreak pooled there. The loss of your husband three weeks before he got to meet the child he was supposed to love. Her little heart must have been breaking inside of you too. 

Double the pain.

And then you were mending yourself on your own. Going into labor early from stress,  your family helped take care of you more than her. You were needier. You were broken. 

And never, fucking ever, did you think you’d find yourself sitting comfortable in your lavish home realizing that your ex-husband didn’t deserve all of that pain from you. He left you for that girl, and not two months later did she leave him. 

Never did you think you’d find yourself thinking about Haechan as a replacement either. Well, not a replacement, but like, maybe just…he’s the idea of a perfect dad if you pay attention to how your child talks about him. How they act together. How she cries for him before bed when he’s not there, asking you why you don’t read to her the way Haechan does. Why don't you sing to her the way he does? Why don't you use the same voices for her dolls? Why you don’t cut her food like he does, why you don’t do this or that.

That’s what makes it click the most you think. The fact that Haechan has given her something you never can. The love of a father. It doesn’t even feel like he’s babysitting at this point, he’s parenting, teaching her lessons, bandaging small boo-boos, fixing her hair,…cooking dinner, cleaning…existing here like he belongs.

Haechan has done more for your daughter than your ex husband ever could have, more than you could have done for her too, you think. 

Even now, as you come home night after night and see him, you struggle to see him as anyone that isn’t who your daughter needs. Maybe who you need. 

His summer semester is coming to an end too, and it’s hard to see him as a college student now. He really does coursework and everything that needs to be done at your home all within a single work day? With no complaints at all? Lately, you’ve noticed that he’s been more focused on studying when he babysits too, but still your daughter listens to him better than she listens to you. 

Yet, still, it’s like you’re avoiding each other as you go through the motions, but you notice him more. You feel more discomfort because of it, mostly because you know your resolve about this is breaking. There’s a fear inside of you that revolves around him.

What if you missed your chance? 

What if it does end up being a mistake if he still wants you?

You don’t know what to do, but you know you want him. 

Some nights, Haechan does sleep over due to exhaustion and you don’t even ask him to leave because you know he’s not doing it to try anything. The avoidance is loud. Lately, you come home from work and there he is, sitting up with his laptop on his lap but sound asleep, softly snoring. Each time, you remind yourself of how he’s sacrificing his study time to babysit. You know your child can be distracting and needy when she wants something too, but he doesn’t complain even a little bit. The least you could have done was bring him a blanket, which you did. And you woke the next morning to find him curled up on the same couch, laptop toppled over onto the floor.

Small, gentle acts of kindness towards each other but never face to face. You’ve woken to fresh coffee countless times, made exactly the way you like it because you know he’s watched you make it yourself. You’ve come home to re-stocked items, like milk and eggs, laundry detergent, and even toothpaste. It’s nice, and a small indication that he doesn’t resent you. Even through face-to-face avoidance on your part.

Tonight seemed different though, compared to all of the other nights when you can’t go out. You walked through the door to the smell of dinner and your child still awake, sing-songing at you the moment you walked in. 

“Dad said I can stay up late!” 

You quirk a brow, her calling him that now becoming a regular occurrence to the point it goes through one ear and out the other for you. You recall discussing her bed time though, with absolutely no exceptions.

“Did he now?” You hug her before taking off your cardigan, walking with her to the kitchen where you find Haechan, placing down a small plate on the table with cartoon characters on it, right in front of two bigger plates with bigger portions of delicious looking food placed neatly on it.

Your heart swells, but your anxiety grows twice as big alongside it. This. 

This is what you’ve wanted for so long. This is what you never thought you could find. So, why is it that you still have push-back in your mind? Despite knowing that Haechan has proven himself time and time again, you want to argue?! 

Perhaps it’s because you like the way he tries. Maybe you’re not ready to lose that feeling of being chased in some way, of being begged to let him stay. Maybe it’s because you begged your husband, desperate for him to keep you, but he left anyway. It feels like Haechan gives you power over yourself, over your love-life, over everything, really. 

And if you were to actually accept his advances, even just a dinner on your table, what if he stops? What if he gets bored once he gets what he wants? After all, he’s still young, you can’t truly imagine he wants to do this forever. 

Not with you, and not with your daughter either. 

“What’s all this? Isn’t it a bit late for her to have dinner?” You question him instantly, anxiety bubbling up out of assumption alone. 

“We had a small snack a few hours ago.” Haechan reassures you. “I finished my exams and had a burst of energy to celebrate, besides, it’s a Friday–” He goes to pull out a chair for you. “You don’t need to be up early either. A late dinner every now and then never hurt anybody.”

The way this is the first time the two of you have had a face-to-face conversation since…that night. His voice calms you, and that’s scary. 

You huff, happy because you could easily melt into this chair and pretend you’re having a family dinner, like you always wanted, like you never rejected a touch from him that you desperately wanted. You could just play along and pretend Haechan is everything you need. Except, it wouldn’t even be pretending at this point. The whole idea of him has changed. But, again, that anxiety. You still have that little voice holding you back, no matter what you want, or what you need, you fear it’ll be ripped from you again if you were to let yourself be weak for another person.

“I’m really tired, Donghyuck.” You explain, walking past the kitchen and towards your bedroom. “Thanks for dinner but I’m not too hungry and I just want to lay down.”

And with that, he watches you leave. No real appreciation, no congratulations on him finishing his exams, not even a kiss to your child’s forehead. Is he still expected to be the one to put her to sleep? 

Why is he even here? Why did he do all of this? 

His patience is running dry.

So, he eats with your child as your plate goes cold and he leaves it there. If you can’t even handle a dinner at the table with the person who cooked it, you can deal with your own fucking plate. Throw away your own fucking food, wash your own fucking dish. And if you can’t tuck your child into bed, he’ll do it, but you can shove that fake ass exhaustion right up your ass for all he cares. 

He knows you’re not exhausted. He’s seen you when you are. You’re just being an asshole to him at this point, trying to appear like you’re perfectly happy with the life you live when your drunken rants prove otherwise. You treat him like everything he does has an ulterior motive. Which, yeah, maybe it does, but he was genuinely excited to have someone celebrate the end of this semester with him. Maybe assuming you’d indulge him went too far. For the first time, he wasn’t doing it to impress you.

By the time Haechan gets your daughter to bed, all tucked in with a little tune to fall asleep to, he closes her door and just stands there in the silence on the other side of it. 

You must really enjoy being a single mother, huh? This is why too. He always questioned it. You’re so attractive, so well-adjusted. You work hard, your daughter is a sunshine in this world, and you’ve not managed to find anyone to love you yet? He thought he was lucky to be the one getting to spend time with you. 

Turns out, you refuse to let anyone in despite Haechan knowing, fucking seeing straight through you. You want something from someone. You need it, yearn for it, even. But it’s almost laughable at the way you refuse it. 

Excuses, excuses, excuses. 

It’s the fucking audacity you have taking advantage of him. You’ve practically led him on. You lend him everything he wants in life. That’s it. You lend it. From flaunting yourself before you go to bars, to exposing all the marks you allow other men to leave on you. Letting him stay in this house, father your child, cook, clean, mend, fix, heal. 

From being a faux-father to being minimized to a college student that you used to babysit. He’s offered you relief in so many ways including sexual, and all you fucking do is avoid, deny, fucking reject him. You still go out to bars, later and later you’ll come home with new swells against your skin, but always looking so empty and disappointed. Sometimes he thinks you try to make him jealous. Sometimes, he thinks you want him to try again. 

Sometimes, he thinks you get off on the fact that he keeps trying.

And he has tried. Albeit more gently lately, but he has. Small, lingering touches when he hands you your coat to help you get out the door and to work quicker. Starting your car for you before you leave. Fuck, he even opens the goddamn door for you. Anything to make you feel appreciated, respected, and fucking wanted.

The silence is loud in his ears due to the sheer irritation as he drops his head, staring at his feet and knowing it’ll only take a few strides to reach your bedroom. A room he still craves to be in.

He’s raided those drawers by now, because of course he has. Soiling your panties, your sheets, anything that still smells like you when you’re gone for the day, all so he can act normal upon seeing you when you come home. He’s laid in your bed by now too, wondering what it would feel like to have your weight beside him. He fantasized about anything and everything he possibly could in there.

And he’s always warmer. Always cums the hardest with weak, muffled moans as he stuffs your pillows into his mouth to keep quiet. All before cleaning every trace of himself there, closing the door, and wishing he was allowed to exist in there with you. 

Right now will be the first time Haechan enters your room to your knowledge, and it sucks for him because he has essentially trained himself to get hard every time he opens this fucking door. Still, he composes himself, and it’s a bit of a shock if you’re being honest.  You thought he’d go home after this, you were kind of hoping he would after you made it so awkward. 

You felt guilty the second you saw his expression fall to your rejection of eating dinner like a big fucking happy family. You want it so bad, you want him so bad.

When you left the kitchen, you immediately went to your room and hopped in the shower, well aware that he wouldn’t follow you. You thought hard while the hot water made attempts to wash away your feelings. Would it have been so bad to just eat with him? With your daughter? With both of them? The way his eyes fell, it burned your heart a little bit.

Still, no answers came to you because you know part of you just wants to see what else he will do for you. Despite the history with him, and despite knowing his entire family would question and scoff at you for it…Is it really so wrong? To want to give him a chance just to see if he’ll leave you too? 

Just to see if it’ll hurt when he does it too?

Inviting him to your home almost every day of the week isn’t wrong, right? Forgetting to pay him all those times before, hoping to see him again and get that confidence boost, that wasn’t wrong. Letting your daughter attach herself to him when you swore he wasn’t permanent, no longer having the energy to correct her use of “dad” towards him… none of that is wrong.

 It’s all Haechan. He’s the one in the wrong for willingly following along, not you. Right? 

And as you’re sitting on your bed in your towel, zoning out and staring at your floor, Haechan swings your bedroom door open without a single knock, mindfully closes it, and immediately goes off on you.

Somehow, you really expected him to accept your rejection but your heart swells that he didn’t. You don’t think he ever will, and you’re exhausting yourself hoping he’ll prove you wrong.

He’s shown you enough by now. This is what breaks down that wall inside of you, isn’t it?

“What am I doing wrong?” He shoots his first question out in a desperate whisper shout, eyes searing into you before continuing without a single breath. “Because I do everything for her, and i do everything  for you, does that really make you so fucking uncomfortable?”

“D–” You try to respond, feeling your skin prickle at the sheer irritation in his expression.

He’s fighting for you.

“Isn’t that what you want?!”

“After everything I do–” He throws his hands up now, running his fingers through his hair as if you make him feel like he wants to rip it out. “After trying to make your life easy while making mine harder, for what? You to not eat the fucking food I made? For you to go to the bar all the time just to come back disappointed like I’m not right here waiting for you to come back?” 

“What ar-”

“Don’t ask me any stupid fucking questions, Just answer me.” He drops his hands, stepping up to you, placing both hands on either side of your hips, doing his best not to react to your near-naked body. “Why?”

You lean back, trying to create more distance to try and give him an answer that you don’t even know yourself, but he just keeps closing in. Not letting you escape this time. You’ve never seen him so riled up before, it’s…

Well…

“Because I came onto you? Because I tried to do what no one else will do for you?” His voice shakes when he says it, and you can feel the heat radiating from him. Is he…about to cry?

Only now, seeing him so close with an entirely sober brain do you realize an answer. Maybe not to his question of why, but to the same question you’ve been asking yourself. It’s because of that look in his eye. You’ve never been able to put a word to it, but now with him demanding you explain yourself so closely, you see it.

He’s desperate. 

Arguably as desperate as you’ve felt to fill the void. Except, he’s trying to do that for you and you won’t let him out of what? Fucking fear? Hell, at this point the history means close to nothing when it comes to all the new memories he’s made in this home, even without you. The history of babysitting him, the history of your ex husband leaving you. It doesn’t matter.

You think hard, so hard that you feel your eyes burn as you stare up at him. Glancing without intention to his jaw when he clenches it, to his neck when he swallows his words, to his lips, his eyes, the hair falling in his face…and you just–

You reach up, running a soothing hand through his hair to get it out of his face. Then you see those same desperate eyes somehow grow more desperate as he lowers them, leaning into the touch, as if you’ve been starving him the same way you’ve been starved for years. He falls silent too, cutting himself off mid-question just to feel you touch him for the first time.

“I don’t know.” You say, which seems like a better answer than having an excuse. What can you say otherwise? That it’s because it shouldn’t  be him? That you’re afraid he’ll realize he’s not ready to settle? To be a dad? He’ll ask why, and it’ll be the same answer you gave on that drunken night. An answer that you no longer care about. 

You babysat him when he was a child, but you were still a child too. 

You were still a child, and time changes things.

Your ex husband left you, and you’re afraid he will too, especially because he’s so much younger? Who cares?

Your answer seems to fly right past his head though, because he’s still leaning to feel your fingers in his hair, and he’s looking at you as if nothing you say will matter unless you make it hold some weight to him. 

“Donghyuck–” You pause, scratching right at his nape, uncaring of how you can feel your towel loosening on your body. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Somehow, his name on your lips is what he needed to hear. The tone of it, the rasp in your voice, your fingers in his hair. Actions speak louder than anything the two of you could say right now, and he can’t help it. Nothing can stop him, not even you at this point. 

He hasn’t done anything wrong you say? It’s because he fucking knows what you need.

You inhale deeply, holding your breath when you feel your back hit your mattress, his warm hands instantly taking advantage of your freshly-showered state and tugging at the towel just slightly to let it fall open. You hear a slight breath from him at that moment, an inhale. There, he climbs onto the bed, nudging himself between your legs and trapping you there under him, both hands holding your arms down.

Like he’s afraid you’ll reject him again.

“You’re going to let me take care of you now.” He demands, though to him it sounds more like a plea solely due to the fact that he’s so fucking turned on it’s unreal. That feeling of when your fingers were in his hair? Seeing your naked body? Unshaved pussy? Being in this fucking room with you? It throws him into overdrive, especially with the way you just lay there blinking up at him in surprise. The anger melting away only amplifies it more. 

How could you do this to him? Genuinely, how could you have let him fucking suffer for you like this? 

Still, you blink up as if you’re a deer caught in headlights and it makes his heart thump against his ribcage. Your eyes are so bright, that glint of sadness he had seen so many times isn’t there right now. And there’s so much adrenaline inside of him, like he needs to move fast before you change your mind again. You’ve not let him do this for some fucking reason or another and now you’re just laying here for him.

 There, with your entire body on display, and you appear to be docile. Fucking obedient? Like he always knew you would be if you’d just drop the fucking act?! You were meant for him and him alone, and he’s going to show you why.

In all honesty, you’re tired of denying yourself by now. From the moment you saw him that day cleaning your pool for the first time, you’ve wanted him on some level. It wasn’t an emotional attachment, but a hope, a fantasy for you. And when you recognized him, you were more impressed with him than embarrassed. You tried not to let your eyes wander out of guilt, out of feeling like a pervert. 

And then, that day when he came onto you, he was just a man to you. Your faux guilt kept you from letting him, and your hope to be chased kept you from it too. As if you’ve never pleasured yourself to the thought of him, shamefully in this very bed. As if you’ve never called out his name with a silent breath. If you keep going at this point, you’ll lose him before ever knowing what he could really be for you. 

This is his last ditch effort to beat you at your own game, and you’re ready to lose.

  So, now, you let yourself get lost in him. In his eyes and the way he pleads and makes his demands. He probably doesn’t recognize his strength against you right now, or how much it’s turning you on. With the way he has both hands on your wrists, probably bruising them, and there’s nothing you could do even if you wanted to. His weight holding you down feels better than you imagined. 

After so long, with so many failed hookups where you’ve told them of your daughter and all they’ve done in return is get their orgasm then leave…Haechan. He wants to take care of you? 

He wants to…give you what you need?

Fuck, you know he can. That’s the fucked up part. He’s proved it so many times to you in so many ways. You’ve watched him, the way he moves and acts around you. He’s exactly what you need.You pushed him to this point, where his sanity is on the brink of crashing. Taking it away from him again feels wrong, because it’s exactly what you want.

And when he presses his leg between yours, he knows.

“Again?” He comments, now releasing your wrist from one hand and running it down, able to slip his fingers right into the slick of your bare pussy. “You’re wet.” 

You still just blink up at him with an intake of breath at the pleasure, thoughts running left and right on what to do, finally realizing you don’t want to do a damn thing. He’d do it all if you let him. Clean your house, be a father, fix all of the breaks, make you wet.

And you just feel him, the way his fingers play around with what he does to you. You can practically feel his confidence rise at the way you spread your legs a bit more, as if to give him more access. When you look at him, his expression remains harsh, but slowly he moves himself down, lips brushing over one of your nipples while keeping eye contact.

Still that irritated look, like he’s mad you haven’t let him do this before now.

“How many times are you going to pretend like I’m not the one who gets you wet?” He asks before rubbing circles around your clit, tongue flicking in the same way around your nipple. “Like I don’t have a right to take care of you?”

Your breath is still caught in your throat, trying to be careful about what you say right now despite knowing you can’t speak. You focus on what he’s doing instead, losing yourself to something you’ve not felt in far, far too long. 

He’s right. He’s gotten you wet more than once by now. More than he knows. 

And goddamn, he knew your tits could bounce, but the way they move without the support of a bra, the plush, soft feeling of your nipple growing erect in his mouth, all for him to bite and pull at. He does it too, listening to the little seething sound of pain from you when he pulls all the way back with your nipple between his teeth. Only to let it fall from his mouth and break eye contact with you to see the jiggle as it falls.

His cock twitches, at everything that you are right now, feeling more pleasure through seeing you like this alone compared to fucking his own fist on your bedroom floor. He notes how your legs squeeze him more at the nipple stimulation than his fingers too, memorizing the way your labia falls open between them. He smirks, flicking his tongue more, quicker. 

There. There it is.

A low rumble in your chest falls from your lips. Soft, a moan. A very small, delicate sound.

“You like this?” Haechan asks, looking up at you, letting his tongue fall from his mouth again and flicking the erect nub. “When I play with your tits?”

You nod, throwing an arm over your face in embarrassment that this is actually happening. You’re letting him. Already you feel yourself heat up more, even when he takes his fingers away from your clit and instead, uses them to flick your other nipple. 

And he does this for a few minutes. Paying special attention to your tits, going back and forth with his fingers and tongue to each bud, trying so hard to not stop just to shove his cock between them and use them the way he’s always wanted. He focuses on drawing out more and more little sounds from you instead, slurping his own saliva from your painfully erect nipples, pulling back, blowing cold air, then warming it up again with his lips. All while simultaneously groping, flicking, and pinching with his other hand. 

“Jesus, Haechan–” You moan quietly, chest rising and falling as he squeezes and licks against you. 

That’s right, say his name. Let him fucking know he’s doing what you like. Haechan thinks, feeling his cock weep in his pants as he does it. Wondering just how sensitive you are to be reacting like this to simple nipple stimulation. God, he’s wanted to suck on these for so long, and now you’re letting him. They’re so big, so plush. He wants to fucking cover them with his mouth, he wants to bury his face in them, kiss them all over them. 

And if they were to get bigger? He moans at the thought, remembering that conversation you had with your mom. You want another. He bets they’d swell up–Oh, fuck yeah. They’d probably hurt to rub against your shirt. God, fuck, he can’t control his thoughts right now.

 Finally. 

Fucking finally, he has you and he’s not going to let you run away again.

He doesn’t fucking care if it’s forward. He wants what he wants, you want what you want. That want just so happens to line up. Besides, he’s already proved himself to you, he knows it. If you’re letting him do this, maybe you’d let him stay like this. 

“Did they get bigger?” He moans briefly as he swaps to your other nipple again. “So full, so heavy, were they leaking all over you?”

You listen to him, trying not to feel the pit in your stomach bubble with even more arousal at his blatant and dirty words, feeling your clit throb at the stimulation your tits are getting right now. 

“Makes my dick fucking throb just thinking about it. Fuck–” 

“Let me give you another,” He mumbles now, almost mindlessly before looking up at you with an intense gaze as he bites down, indicating that he’s not mindless about it at all. 

“Swell you up, make you glow–”

Oh. 

Why is that– why are you dripping?

He hears that moan you let out. Different from the others, almost desperate.

“Mm, yeah.” He encourages it, now allowing his hand to travel back down to witness how much wetter you’ve gotten at those words. So messy, so perfect. “Knew you’d want it raw.”

You can’t help the nod, as it comes before you even process his words solely because you feel his fingers slip inside of you. You haven’t been this wet in so, so long. You want to feel it. To be full again, of anything. Of him.

“Ye-” You start, interrupting yourself with a bite of your lip and your eyes rolling back. 

“That’s right mama,” He coos, tilting his fingers up and amplifying the pressure inside of you. “Gonna let me take good care of this pussy, yeah?” He adds, lifting from your tits and ghosting his lips over yours. 

He watches you closely, that daze in your eye. God, you look so horny right now. There’s nothing more he wants than to see this time and time again. To let you wake up every morning with his warm cum inside of you, to see your belly swell with his child, to see your tits grow until they hurt. 

He’d take care of you. He’d take good fucking care of you. 

“Say something.” Haechan whispers against your lips, darting his tongue out against your lips, angling his fingers up and making you moan. “Say you want me to give it to you raw.”

You open your mouth, feeling his tongue lick and swallow up that moan you just gave him before you try to compose yourself. You can’t help it, you’re so, so sensitive right now and you can’t help but find it incredibly sexy to be here, laid bare, while he’s still fully clothed.

Like he really is doing this for you. He’s not trying to get his own orgasm and leave. You’re weak and those words of “let me give you another” shines in your head. Weak, you’re weak. You should be thinking about condoms, you should be thinking about the consequences of this. 

But you’re not. 

You do like it raw.

“Haechan–” You stutter as you try to grasp the reality of his words, feeling his fingers repeatedly hit right where you need it. “I’m…not protected.”

He moans. Loudly, before huffing out an irritated groan.

“You must really want it then.” He narrows his eyes at you. “Going out all the time trying to get fucked–” 

He plunges his fingers in again, deep, and holds them there as he pulls back to look at you. To really look at you, then he glares.

“You’d really let just some fucking dude give you a baby?” 

You repeatedly shake your head. 

“No!” You retort, thrusting your hips up. “I just–”

“Mhm,” He pulls his fingers out now, sliding himself down so fast that you can barely comprehend him sucking your clit into his mouth before pulling back in a moan at the taste of you. “If mama wants another, daddy will give her one.” He says now, as if to pacify you.

As if to give you everything. 

And you’d argue, really, you would.  You want another child so bad, but this is– it’s too soon. You haven’t even established a relationship with him yet. Boundaries haven’t been discussed. His college plan– but fuck it’s not entirely your fault that you’re like, super turned on by the idea of it. To the thought of being so filled with cum that there’s no possible way you couldn’t end up pregnant. An indication that, no matter what, no man at a club could fulfill the arousal for you even if they cared to do it. 

You’d never have let them actually fuck you raw. 

Haechan though…how can you keep telling him no?

How could you reject him again when you want it so badly? 

Fuck now, think later.

“Yeah–” You say against your better judgement, hands reaching down to his hair so you can grind up against his mouth, lost to the arousal as you mimic what he referred to himself as. “Daddy?”

You feel his mouth fall slack at that, as if you’re accepting him in full now. You feel your clit hit nothing in his open mouth, but it throbs harder. 

 He knew you were slightly into him for letting him do this at all, but now, you’re truly accepting it. Like you know he’ll fucking do it, like you want him to fucking do it.

“That’s right,” He moans against your clit as he licks at it, barely able to comprehend your voice calling him that but clinging to it all the same.  “Gonna let daddy do it all for you.”  

Yeah. You are. You’re gonna let him do it. All of it. 

And then, the room is enveloped in quiet moans, more from Haechan than from you due to your breath being stuck in your throat. His tongue, licking every part of your sensitive cunt, his hands reaching back up to your tits, fondling, pinching, painfully tugging at them as he moans louder, louder, louder for you to want him.

He presses his hips up and against your mattress as he tastes you, so deeply it hurts his cock to neglect it like this. Each rub feels raw, twitching and pulsing to be let out, to be inside of you, on you, against you. Filling you up with his cum, plugging it in as a promise that you can’t leave him even if you wanted to. 

He’s going to fucking do exactly what he said he would. 

And only when you feel his tongue lap against your hole do you finally release your breath, “Daddy” coming out in a choked back sob. It breaks him, his body going into overdrive as he pulls back and just– stares at you with wild eyes. 

You stare back up at him, knowing that calling him that means something more than a cringe little roleplay kink. It means something deeper to him. He wants to be a dad, a real one.

“Oh yeah?” He finally says, hands going straight to his button and zipper. 

You can’t help it, biting your lower lip as you blink up, watching his shoulders move, the veins on his arms protruding as he rushes to pull it out and– oh. You moan at it, the way his heavy, slicked up, cock falls out, dark, needy. 

“Daddy–” You urge him on, knowing that it’s driving him absolutely insane. 

“Mhm?” He shuffles himself off the bed, letting his pants drop as he lifts his shirt off of him and fucking glares at your tits. “You want daddy’s cock?”  He adds now, shooting his eyes up to you as both of his hands land on your legs.

Your mind goes blank when you feel him slide his hands around to the back of your thighs, pushing your legs forward, curling you in on yourself, forcing your pussy to be out and on display for him. 

And you watch him, the way he stares down at it. It’s embarrassing to be so seen right now, not having expected to get fucked open by anyone tonight, let alone him. You probably should have shaved or something, or like, not gotten out of the habit in the first place. But he moans at it, mouth falling open at the fact that you are entirely a fucking woman. 

A fucking mother.

The prettiest pussy he’s ever fucking seen let alone tasted.

And he moans, breaking the silence, forgetting only for a moment how long he’s been wanting this. It boosts your confidence more than you’ve ever felt. His reaction to this is more than your ex husband’s reaction to you when you were pristine and borderline pornstar quality. 

Haechan doesn’t see you as used and neglected, he just sees you. And this. This is the pussy he wants. This is what he wants to put his baby in. 

When he flicks his eyes back to you, with that same open mouthed expression, it knocks the breath out of you. There’s so much love in his eyes, or maybe lust, you don’t care. You think you’re matching that expression for him too, because it’s like he can’t hold back anymore. He can’t just sit and look at you anymore. 

He just can’t.

And you feel it, his thick head pushing past the tightened, pulsing hole and not stopping. He pushes in slowly, painfully slow, to the point you’re both looking at each other with a slack jaw. Finally. The pain of it, the pleasure, the fucking need you’ve been trying to fulfill. 

That look on your face drives him wild too, he knows he has you by now. You like it, you love the way he slides in and makes damn sure you feel it. Every second of the slide pries you open, and he wants to remember this moment forever. He wants you to fucking remember too. 

Wants you to know that no one will ever fit inside of you so perfectly, so deeply.

When he finally bottoms out, he leans forward to keep himself buried deep as he ghosts his lips over yours. He feels the way you try to kiss him, but he pulls back with a confident smirk. 

“When was the last time you’ve felt a cock so deep in you?” He whispers hotly, knowing you need not answer. Knowing you won’t answer, not with the way you’re instantly lifting your head and kissing him. 

Your pussy pulses around him when you lick into his mouth, the first real kiss sending his heart soaring. He twitches inside of you with each squeeze, and kisses you harder, deeper. And somehow, it brings tears to your eyes. 

The way he kisses, the way he makes you feel him. Fuck, the way he makes you feel whole, so wanted, like you’re amazing to him. In more ways than just a body to fuck, but he’s stuck around despite all of your avoidance and rejections. You hope you’re making it worth it. 

Fuck, you need to feel worth it to him.

“You’d better not fucking pull out.” You groan through a breath, his lips still kissing you through your words as he finally pulls his hips back, fucking in once. 

Hard.

Honestly, could you have said anything else at this moment? He’s trying to make this last, he needs it to last. If you keep fucking talking, saying everything he’s ever wanted to hear– 

“Fuck,”  He moans, his hands moving up to your cheeks as he licks into your mouth. “You can’t–”  He continues, fucking in again, moving your body up with each thrust do to the sheer force of him trying to plunge in as deep as he can. “You can’t fucking say that to me right now.”

You’re seeing stars though, unable to say anything else as your eyes roll back at the way the head of his cock practically kisses your cervix with each push into you. He’s so rough, so desperate for it. 

You don’t think he expected you to respond either, with the way he keeps his lips on yours, his body pressed so closely that having your legs to your chest means nothing to him now. Mating press be damned, he’s lost his mind to the feeling, not the aesthetic of being a fucking dad. 

Your legs wrap around him instead, and he’s all too happy to feel it. Your legs hug him the same way your arms do, the same way your pussy does, and he’s fucking in love with you. 

He braces one hand back against your leg, holding it against his hips as he continues to fuck forward, still at the same pace. Deep and with purpose. Every few seconds the bursts of pleasure run through him, making him shiver and moan into your mouth. Little grunts, near whimpers for you to let him give you the world. 

More than this. More than fucking, more than taking care of you, more than anything he could ever possibly give you. He’ll find a way. 

And then, you’re clenching hard, matching his near-whimpers except moaning in full pants, babbling and drooling cries against his mouth. 

“Mama–” Haechan soothes, continuing his pace as he tilts his head back to get a good look at that lost gaze in your eyes. “You’re crying?”

You nod with a laugh, tears rolling down the same way the wet of your cunt slips down your ass. You’ve never felt so good, so fucking full.  And for some reason, that does him in. Making it last be damned, he genuinely thinks he’s won you over. He can make it last next time, he can do more next time, he can–

He leans back all the way now, onto his knees as your legs try to hug him back to you, and his eyes go straight back to those tits. The way he made a promise. The way they bounce, slick with his sweat from pressing against you. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He grunts in a breath, now quickening his pace and snapping his hips. Pulling out all the way briefly to plunge into your again. “Can’t get any deeper–” He continues, flicking his eyes from your face, to your tits, to that beautiful pussy of yours swallowing him up. 

Now his eyes roll back, hands going back to your thighs to push you back into position. No way in hell can he last, not at a pace like this, inside of a woman like you. 

“Don’t pull out.” You repeat again in a breath, seeing his face and the way he focuses solely on you. You know he’s going to cum, and you want him to. You want to feel it, every single fucking drop of it. 

“Yeah?” He nods his head with laser-focus on your pussy now, staring down as he points tight, short thrusts inside of you. “Momma wants my cum? Hm?”

Oh, he’s fucking gone.

“She likes it?” He continues to talk himself up. “Likes being so fucking full of it? Yeah?” 

Goddamn, fuck, he’s insane. 

“Yes, daddy–” You whisper-shout, fingers shooting to your clit, other hand raising to your mouth to silence the moans as to not be too loud. 

“Fuck, yeah you do.”  He lets out a near growl, his voice low and rumbled as he slaps your hand away, pressing hard on your clit with his thumb as he buries himself in you once more and stiffening his abs. “That’s right.”

And instantly upon feeling him pulse, that first spurt of cum painting your insides, you lose yourself with him. Your fingers drop from your mouth and you release a pornographic moan for him, rutting yourself against him, as if to fuck it deeper into you. 

It only prolongs the orgasm though, for both of you. 

Haechan is silent, trying to keep his eyes open through the pleasure as you pulse and squirt around him, his thumb pressing so hard  into your clit, his cock cumming so deep, filling you up so well– He wants to see it. Wants to watch you fall apart for him. Wants to witness the way you let him do this. 

And he holds himself there, so hard and so full of pleasure for you. Keeping himself practically impaled against your cervix until your body falls slack. Still, he fucks it into you, holding you in place with a softer moan now. No longer guttural or deep from his chest. His breathing is rough, a soft, near feminine moan leaves his lips as he falls forward onto you. 

You wince along with him at the sensitivity, panting, a sweating tangle of a mess the two of you have become. And it’s the fact that it’s the first time you’ve ever gotten off at the same time as someone else. You feel…soft. 

Your hands find their way to his hair as his face squished against your tits while he regains breath, not daring to move his hips because your pussy is too warm to leave right now. You brush the sweat-slicked hair out of his eyes, running your fingers all the way back to his nap, and then slowly down his back to rub and scratch.

He shivers at the feeling, humming the same feminine-tone he had released previously. And all he can do is hear your heart thumping against your chest, even through these soft tits of a pillow he’s lying against.

Haechan never wants to move again, not from this spot, ever. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You know I’m in love with you, right?” Haechan mentions briefly after a long moment of silence, looking up at you with his wet hair. 

Deep in the night, your food still cold and on the table, you’ve found yourself freshly showered and on your living room couch with Haechan’s head on your lap. He made sure to have stayed long enough inside of you to implant…something if it was going to happen. So he didn’t argue a shower, and you didn’t argue letting him join you either. 

He had washed you, gently running his hands between your legs with what you can only describe as the softest, most alluring face a man has ever given you. Like he won the lottery, or found the answer to eternal life or something. You repaid him by letting him admire your tits again while you jerked him off, but that’s besides the point. 

“Like, I’m not going to leave. I hope you know that.” He adds with a soft groan to your hands still in his hair. His new favorite thing. 

You look down at him, hand moving to his cheek as the words hit you in the chest.

There’s anxiety along with happiness, at all of the boundaries and serious conversations that will need to be had now, but still, you feel like you’re glowing when he looks at you.

He didn’t even have to say it, and arguably you probably don’t need to say it back either. You think he sees it in you. Even if he didn’t, you think he’d take anything you give to him and cling to it. After all, it only took one time for you to break entirely for him. 

“Are you now?” You smile with a chuckle, looking back to the tv and pretending to watch it. “Well, that’s good. Otherwise I’d be making you go get a plan B or something.” 

His eyes narrow at you.

“Like hell I’d let you, even if I didn’t love you.” He groans. “But I do, so don’t ever say that shit again.”

You chuckle, feeling the calm in your home that once felt so chaotic. It’s quiet now, both inside and outside of your head. 

“Congratulations, by the way.”

He looks at you with question, quirking a brow.

“For finishing your finals, I mean.” You smile, going back to petting through his hair and feeling like you’re on top of the world, despite what you assume to become half of your world lying his head on top of you. 

“Oh, right.” He smiles, now turning his head to watch the tv. “I probably failed them.”

You don’t believe that, but even if he did, you think you could be what he needs too. He wouldn’t have to work if he didn’t want to.

If he’s really in love with you, all he’d have to do is…not leave. 

“Are you sure you want to be having these conversations with me? You can just call it a hook-up.” You finally say, hoping he means it, knowing it breaks your heart a bit to give him an out. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m going to trap you here just because I’m a little smitten too.” 

Haechan glares, blinking up at you.

“I literally just tried to put a baby in you.” 

That’s fair. 

“And you’re not going to run off? Get cold feet?” 

“Can you stop doubting me and just let me do what I want for once?” He argues playfully. “Do you even know how much that barbie fucking dream house costed me? I couldn’t run even if, for some stupid ass reason, wanted to. I love her too.”

Silence for a moment.

“Maybe even more than I love you.” 

You really, really, want to believe him.

So, you do. 

[just-sg]

If the community doesn't welcome "cis men", then it excludes transmascs who pass or at bare minimum sends a message that the goal they worked so hard to achieve has made them less welcome in spaces that once supported them, actively punishing them for transitioning. It forces transfems to out themselves, which can be especially dangerous. It forces nonbinary amabs who can't or don't want to change their presentation to out themselves and sends a message that nonbinary people owe you androgyny or visual non-conformity. And if you think you can gauge any of these things by looking at someone, you're not doing the community any favors.

If the community doesn't welcome cis men, it excludes gay men. If men are welcome only when in a relationship with another man/person who reads enough like "a man", it excludes bi/pan/etc men and sends a message that what relationship they're in Right Now determines whether or not they're Queer Enough, you know, one of the core tenets of biphobia and erasure.

If the community doesn't welcome cis men, it excludes men all over the ace and aro spectrums. :) And yes actually, the heterosexual aromantic straw-man does deserve to be here just as much as anyone else. IF he's treating his partners like shit, then we judge him for that behavior, but queer people can be douchebags with shit views and we don't get to say they're not still queer. And if the het-aro dude is instead communicating honestly and being respectful-- a thing I promise is fully possible for humans to do-- then guess what, assuming he couldn't possibly be a decent person is just arophobia and maybe a side of puratinism.

Anyone questioning their identity, anyone who isn't actively questioning yet but later will, guys about to experience bi panic, transfem eggs who haven't clocked anything about themselves yet. Their early exposure to queer spaces being a hostile one is not going to help anyone, and can easily actively discourage people. We also need to be welcoming of supportive partners, siblings, parents, friends, etc, especially in cases where a queer person is disabled or otherwise has trouble going places on their own, or for helping ease anxiety in virtual spaces, etc.

Listen.

The nature of Being A Man is not and has never been the problem. And as much as some of you don't want to hear it, and as much as it fucking sucks and is objectively unfair when it does involve men who are participating in and benefiting from oppression, trying to turn the tables is never going to be an effective strategy. It's "not fair" that it's more dangerous for women to walk alone at night either but you hopefully wouldn't advocate against carrying mace on the basis no one "should" need it. Whether something is fair and whether it's true are not the same thing.

You cannot Get Revenge against a whole huge portion of the human population, and when you actively threaten or ostracize people, (a) you're mirroring the very thing you fight against, but (b) it makes people defensive!!! Some allocishet dudes would get defensive anyway at the idea of not being on top of the ladder anymore, but giving them more fuel won't change that. Dudes who'd have that kneejerk reaction but could be reasoned with won't be if no one bothers to try, or oftentimes even if someone bothers but it's immensely overshadowed with hostility. And people who were already allies can actively be pushed out and turned against the cause. (Not to mention perpetuating in-fighting.)

You catch more flies with honey, I'm sorry. And yes, we do need allies. Perpetuating the "us vs them" mentality helps no one, patriarchy does not target men in the same or as many ways as women but it is also harmful to many, and we will always have a better chance of fixing any system when we have people working for the cause inside and out. People using their positions of privilege to help provide extra leverage and voice to those with less privilege is always going to be desirable overall.

Even mainstream media writers throwing in crumbs of badly handled representation isn't without some merit, if only for proving it's not illegal and won't destroy sales to have Anything At All, which couldn't be said mere decades ago; if only for normalizing that queer people exist even the tiniest bit more. But just, normal people going about their normal lives. Just every random man who will frown at their coworker's homophobic joke and give a simple "not cool dude". Those little things adding up are important. When people hate you, it's easy to ignore you standing up for yourself, and harder to ignore people they like also standing up for you.

Cis queer men are not your enemy. Amabs who "read" cis to you and don't want to out themselves are not your enemy. Bi men who happen to be in relationships with women are not your enemy. Straight male partners of queer women are not your enemy! Allo cishet dudes married to allo cishet women with no queer kids or siblings or anything are not your enemy, not if they're behaving like friends.

People operating on ignorance, especially to a point of willful ignorance because they don't 'have' to deal with it, can be enemies-- inaction in the face of oppression is taking the side of oppressors, and all-- but even they're like... minion enemies if that makes sense. (That goes for men, women, questioning folks or folks who are definitively queer but don't feel like Part Of The Community, etc, to be clear.) It's not your personal job to educate every person, but when you can afford to, taking no shit but remaining civil will leave someone else a better chance of getting through to them. Picking a nasty drawn-out fight with that jackass on Twitter won't fix homophobia but may well increase his devotion to the enemy cause.

Prioritizing defense isn't always an option and I'm not saying it is. Sometimes you need whole riots to make a point, but even that involves group effort, and often times lashing out in your personal daily life can do more harm than good. THIS SUCKS. OF COURSE IT SUCKS. But it's a matter of the big picture. It's not about letting people "get away with" anything, it's about expressing disapproval in a calmer and more casual manner while trying to minimize anything they could twist into an excuse to be worse.

And that's with people who ARE actively shitty, the ones more casual and micro-aggressive about it but still ultimately against us. Lashing out pre-emptively on the assumption that people would be shitty does a lot more harm and no longterm good.

People joke about The Gay Agenda but honestly, yeah. The Agenda is ultimately for the queer community as a whole to be accepted, have the same rights and protections as anyone else, to end oppression, etc, right? Sometimes that's gonna mean dealing with being uncomfortable or uncertain or even biting your tongue in the name of forwarding the Agenda. Especially when it's literally about acceptance within our own communities. How can we reasonably expect everyone else to accept us if we're struggling to accept each other?

i don't care how uncomfortable you are around cis men, queer cis men still need places to go, and sometimes, those spaces will be shared with yours. disabled and neurodivergent queer men and queer men of color especially need a place to go. the queer community isn't the "fuck cis men" community. that is the rad fem community. if you think cis men and people who read as cis men are inherently "too scary" or shouldn't be allowed in queer spaces, you joined the wrong community.

[levisjinchuriki]

truly, madly, deeply - toji fushiguro

summary: since you left him, toji has been indulging in nothing but bad habits. he makes an impulsive decision stumbling home from the bar one night

warning: post-breakup angst, mentions of heavy drinking, depression, being numb, a whole lot of angst

it’s late—too late for toji to still be out. the bar is nearly empty, quiet except for the scraping sound of chairs as the staff begins their nightly routine of wiping tables and stacking stools. the bartender shoots toji an unimpressed glance as he sets down another glass of whiskey in front of him, grumbling about closing tabs soon. toji doesn’t argue, just wraps his calloused fingers around the glass and lets the amber liquid burn as it slides down his throat. it’s painful, but the familiar sting is something he’s come to crave recently. as much as it hurts, he tries to savor the taste before throwing some cash on the table and heading out.

it’s the kind of quiet that makes the weight in his chest feel unbearable, pressing harder against ribs that have long since forgotten what it’s like to feel light. 

he stumbles out of the bar, unsteady on his feet, muttering curses under his breath as he fumbles for his phone in his coat pocket. outside, the cold bites at his skin, the damp air clinging to him as the rain had never truly stopped. 

the screen glows dimly, the battery dangerously low, but it’s enough to illuminate the list of names he hasn’t touched in weeks. his thumb hovers over the screen, scrolling sluggishly past contacts that don’t matter. then he sees your name. and time stands still. 

for a long moment, all he can do is stare. his thumb trembles, hesitating, like his drunk mind is at war with itself. there’s a part of him that knows better, that knows he should put the phone back in his pocket and walk away. but the other part—the louder, more desperate part—wins. his thumb moves, and the call begins to ring.

once. twice. three times.

toji squeezes his eyes shut, already regretting his actions. he’s not your problem anymore. he lost the right to call you, to hear your voice, to ask for comfort. and yet, here he is, a fool hoping for a miracle at a time when no one should be awake.

“toji?”

he freezes. he hasn’t heard your voice in… how long has it been? the days have blurred together into a haze of alcohol and sleepless nights since you left. he grips the phone tighter, his throat suddenly dry.

“hey” he drawls. there’s a pause on your end. he cringes when he hears a muffled yawn from you. 

“it’s late. are you okay?”. your voice is soft, groggy from the sleep he undoubtedly pulled you from. his heart breaks at the sound of it. 

“yeah. -m fine. jus’….” he slurs. 

“toji… are you drunk?” your voice, laced with concern, strikes a nerve. you sound just as worried as it always did when it came to him, a tone he doesn’t think he deserves anymore. you’ve seen these parts of him before—the ones he hides from the world but somehow always let slip in front of you. 

“nah” he lies. “just a little… tipsy”. his feet shuffle clumsily against the wet pavement as he stumbles down the block. he feels everything and nothing all at once—silly, hopeless, in love, and heartbroken. 

“toji–” your voice is soft but unmistakably disappointed. it’s a tone he’s heard before, one that digs under his ski. he knows that sound. it’s the same one you used to have when he broke promises, when he let you down, when he let himself down.

there are countless reasons why you and toji aren’t together anymore—reasons that keep replaying in his mind whenever he has too much to drink. but none of those reasons stop you from caring about him, even now. and that makes it worse somehow.

“listen…” his voice drops lower, thick with the slur of alcohol. “i know it’s late. s’probably real stupid to call, huh?”. he laughs, but it’s half-hearted, a dry, almost painful sound.

your silence is heavy and suffocating. toji knows you’re probably shaking your head right now, caught between concern and frustration. he can picture it so clearly—how you’re probably biting your lip, wanting to say something but holding back. it almost makes him smile.

as the silence stretches, the sound of heavy rainfall in the background fills the space, a constant, rhythmic sound that matches the beat of his tired, aching heart.

“where are you?” you ask, your voice barely audible above the rain.

he blinks, his mind swimming in a fog that doesn’t seem to clear. he’s disoriented for a second, now realizing that he’s walked in the wrong direction. “why?” he mumbles, a slight frown tugging at his lips.

“because i’m coming to get you” you reply, your tone gentle but firm. “you shouldn’t be out alone”. toji closes his eyes for a moment, your words sinking in, a warmth creeping through his chest despite the alcohol and the cold rain. he hears the shuffle of movement on your end of the line, and he can almost see it—the way you’re probably slipping into those ridiculous bunny slippers he always teased you about. 

a small, tired smile threatens to break through as leans back against a lamppost. “don’t bother” he mutters, the words slipping out before he can stop them. “i’m fine”. another lie, but he doesn’t expect you to believe it.

“tell me where you are” you demand. he’ll take your tone over no contact with you any day. 

“always so good. so… responsible” he mutters, the words slurring as his mind drifts. “you don’t gotta save me, y’know? i’m fine. always fine” he drags out.

“toji, tell me where you are” your voice is stern. it’s the same tone you used when he was in trouble, the same one you’d use when he messed up, the same one you used when you finally told him you were done.

he slumps against the cold, damp wall of the nearest building, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. he mutters the name of the street, barely audible, his words jumbled and ragged.

“i’m on my way” you tell him. there’s a brief pause before you add, “stay there”. for once, he listens. toji just stands there– drunk, stupid, soaked and numb to the rain as it continues to hit him. 

he doesn’t know how long it takes before your car finally pulls up. the headlights shine bright, momentarily blinding him. he blinks a few times and there you are—stepping out of the car, pulling a coat around yourself and wondering how he’s been out here this long. you look at him, and for a split second, toji sees everything he’s been trying to drown out. disappointment flickers behind your eyes, sharp and painful. but there’s something else there too—worry. 

“toji…” you sigh, a sound filled with exhaustion. he feels it in his chest like a punch. he’s happy to see you, but upset that you’re out here in the storm, chasing after him like this.

“you didn’t have to come” he mutters, but even as he says it, he stands up straighter—forcing himself to make the effort, even if it’s not convincing. his legs feel heavy, like they’re made of lead, but he tries to pull himself together. he doesn’t want you to see how much he’s been drowning.

your gaze doesn’t miss anything. he’s drenched, soaked to the bone, his clothes clinging to him, but worse than that—he’s drunk. and sad. more sad than he’s let on, even to himself. he knows it. you know it. it’s clear to you both that he hasn’t been taking care of himself—not in the way you always hoped he would.

“get in the car” you say, the command simple but firm. your voice is steady, unaffected by the storm, and it somehow cuts through the haze of his thoughts.

he doesn’t argue. not with you. not when you’re looking at him like that, not when he knows you’re right, and you’ve always been right about him.

---

the drive is quiet at first. the only sound is the soft hum of the heat, keeping toji from succumbing to hypothermia, and the rain as it taps steadily against the windshield. toji sits slouched in the passenger seat, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his eyes half-lidded as he stares out the window. his gaze is distant, unfocused—lost in the mess of his own thoughts.

“you shouldn’t drink like this,” you say, breaking the silence. your voice is soft but firm. “it’s dangerous.”

toji doesn’t respond immediately. you can see the way his jaw tightens, his shoulders stiffen just slightly. he’s a big guy, tough, but even toji has his limits. he might not show it, but you know how close he is to the edge. and tonight, it’s clear that he’s just a few drinks away from being completely inebriated.

“don’t start with me” he mutters, his voice rough with frustration. you’ve heard that tone before—the one he gets when he’s pushed, when he knows he’s in the wrong but doesn’t want to hear it.

you sigh quietly to yourself, knowing exactly where this conversation is going. you’d always had a habit of acting like his mother, trying to take care of him, trying to get him to listen to reason. it’s inevitable, really—toji always acted like a child in so many ways, and you, stubborn as you are, always fell into the role of the one who tried to save him.

“how many times have i—” you begin, but he cuts you off before you can finish.

“i know!” he snaps, his voice sharper than he means it to be. “i know, alright?”

the words hang in the air between you, heavy with the tension that always lingers when the two of you argue. you’re quiet for a moment, the only sound now the swish of the windshield wipers fighting against the rain.

you grip the steering wheel a little tighter, steadying yourself. the urge to push, to argue further, is strong, but you know better than to start that fight now. the last thing he needs is more words thrown at him, more of your frustration tangled up in his guilt.

right now isn’t the time to argue.

"then why?" you ask quietly, your voice barely rising above the sound of rain hitting the car.

toji presses his head back against the seat and lets out a humorless laugh. “why not?” he replies, his words slurred but sharp enough to sting.

you furrow your brows. he’s being difficult, like always—pushing you away with his deflection, his refusal to take anything seriously. “that’s not an answer” you say, glancing at him briefly before returning your eyes to the road.

toji turns his head to look at you then, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the car. the streetlights outside streak shadows across his face, highlighting the dark circles under his eyes, the weariness etched into his features. he looks tired—not just from tonight, but from everything.

“i don’t owe you an answer” he says after a moment, his voice quieter now.

it’s true. he doesn’t owe you anything, not after everything. not after the way you left, after the way you shattered him. you feel a pang of guilt in your chest, sharp and unforgiving, but you push it down.

“i’d still like to know” you admit, your voice softer now, almost hesitant.

he doesn’t respond right away. instead, he turns his gaze back to the window, watching the rain streak down the glass. the silence stretches between you again, heavy and unyielding, but you don’t press him further. you’ve learned by now that toji won’t be pushed into answers he’s not ready to give.

the road ahead blurs slightly through the rain, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ll ever be able to bridge the distance between the two of you.

he scoffs, turning his gaze back to the window. “what’s the point?”. it’s not a question meant for you—it’s one he’s been asking himself for a while now. you chew on your bottom lip, trying to think of what to say next, though you’re not sure anything will make a difference.

“you don’t always have to carry everything by yourself” you finally sigh.

toji snorts, a bitter sound that cuts through the tension. “yeah? and who’s gonna help me? you?”

the sharpness in his tone catches you off guard, and you flinch despite yourself. his words hit harder than they should, not because they’re unfair, but because they’re true. you left. you made the choice to walk away, and now you’re here, pretending you can fix something that might never be fixable.

he notices. if there’s one thing toji’s always been good at, it’s noticing things, even when he’s drunk and falling apart. he exhales heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “sorry” he mutters, his voice quieter now. “i didn’t mean that”.

you know he didn’t. toji’s harsh words were never the ones that hurt the most—it’s the truth buried in them that stings.

“it’s fine” you reply quietly, your gaze fixed on the road ahead. but it’s not fine, and you both know it.

neither of you says anything for the rest of the drive. the rain continues to tap against the windshield as the distance between you grows wider.

---

toji doesn’t move after you park your car. he just sits there, staring blankly at the dashboard like it holds answers to questions he’ll never ask. his shoulders are slumped, his jaw tight. even with the alcohol dulling his senses, his thoughts refuse to let him rest.

“you wanna go inside?” you turn to look at him, suppressing the urge to reach over.

he blinks, the question pulling him back to the present. “yeah” he mutters, but his body remains rooted to the seat.

you don’t rush him. moments like these are rare—when toji lets you see him vulnerable. it’s heartbreaking, and it makes you ache in ways you thought you’d forgotten.

instead of pressing him, you wait. he’s always been a man who needs time to gather himself. and tonight, for whatever reason, he’s letting you stay long enough to witness it.

eventually, he exhales, a slow, shaky breath that seems to release some of the tension coiled in his chest.

finally, toji looks at you. really looks at you. his eyes are glassy, the alcohol making them more vulnerable than you’ve seen in a long time.

“you’re too good for this” he says, his voice heavy with sadness. it’s not just the words that hit you—it’s the way he says them, like he’s admitting something he’s been too scared to face. for the first time, toji acknowledges there’s something wrong with him. that something is his fault.

“for what?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“for me” he says almost defeated. “i’m no good. i’m just… this” he gestures vaguely at himself, his hand falling back to his side as if the effort of even that small movement is too much.

it’s clear in the way he’s looking at you that he means it. that he’s thought about this, felt it deep in his bones. you’re not sure if he’d ever admit it sober, but tonight, it’s out there in the open.

you don’t know what to say to that. words feel inadequate, like they’ll only make things worse. 

“you should get some rest” you whisper instead. “it’s late”.

toji releases a breath, his gaze shifting to your apartment building. he’s been here countless times before. but it’s different now. where he used to feel at home, he suddenly feels like a stranger. 

“okay”. his footsteps echo softly behind you.

when he walks in, all the memories come rushing back. the faint scent of the candle you always light fills his nose. the throw blanket draped over the couch is in the same place it’s always been. even the little details—the spaces in your home where you’d made room for him—are still there. his boots still sit by the door, his favorite mug in the cabinet, the sweatshirt he thought he’d lost folded neatly.

you lead him to your room without a word, offering him a towel and setting a pair of dry clothes on the bed. they’re his– clothes he left behind when things fell apart. you didn’t have the heart to throw them out, and he didn’t have the heart to come back for them.

“you’ll get sick” you mutter, setting a black shirt and grey sweats on the bathroom sink before turning to leave. you always fussed over him like this—still do, even now. toji doesn’t know what to do with the tight ache in his chest. he wants to cry.

by the time he emerges from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in warm clothes, he hears the hum of the dryer from the hallway. of course, you’d snuck in while he was washing up to scoop his sopping clothes off the floor.

in your room, you’re finishing fixing the bed, smoothing the sheets and adding extra pillows—just the way he likes. it doesn’t escape him, the way you still remember these small details.

“i can take the couch” he says, his voice low and reluctant.

you shake your head, dismissing the offer as you grab a pillow and blanket for yourself. “sleep” you say firmly, leaving no room for argument.

he hesitates for a moment, but the exhaustion weighing on him makes it hard to fight back. his body aches for rest, and though a part of him wants to address the unspoken words that hang heavy between you, he knows it’s not the time. 

“we’ll talk later” you whisper as you step toward the door, your hand brushing the light switch.

toji watches you for a moment, standing there in the dim glow of the hallway. his throat tightens, and he wants to say something—anything—but no words come out. instead, he nods silently as you turn off the light and leave him alone in the room.

“thanks” he murmurs, his voice so quiet it’s almost lost in the stillness of the room. but you hear it.

toji lies awake in the bed you once shared, staring at the ceiling. the familiarity of it all threatens to undo him—the soft sheets, the faint scent of you lingering on the pillow. it’s overwhelming. 

he wonders, not for the first time, how someone like you ever loved him. the thought twists in his chest, sharp with regret. he thinks about how things ended, how he pushed you away, and yet here you are—offering him kindness he doesn’t deserve.

the bed feels empty without you beside him, but as his heavy eyelids finally close, he clings to the comfort of your lingering presence. it’s enough, for now, to ease the ache as he drifts off to sleep.

---

to be continued... thank you for reading!!!

part 2

[thatonegreyghost]

"You know the hero is traditionally supposed to marry the princess, right?"

Cecilia looks at the knight, easily twice her age and definitely twice as heavy, and tries not to choke in disgust. Lucan, the prince from Corinth, was supposed to come rescue her from the monster- this one was a werewolf, she thinks? She never saw it- but gods forbid Lucan do anything helpful. He's too busy "sparring" with his personal guard, probably.

"Is that a fact, Princess?" The knight gruffs sharply. "Well, that's not going to happen here. You're hardly much older than my daughter. I don't think anyone should want a wife of you."

"I should hope not." Cecilia mutters. "I have no interest in merely being someone's wife."

"As you shouldn't. You're too young." The knight agrees. "Come on, then. My camp is over this way. You can stay in the tent, and we'll head out in the morning."

"And where will you sleep?" Cecilia questions.

Lucan always sleeps in the tent with her. Not next to her, not usually, but always in the tent with her. He'll always complain that it's too cold outside, and he can't possibly be made to stay in the cold. Of course, that's likely because Lucan is a complete wuss.

"I'll sleep by the fire, Princess. It isn't a hardship."

Speaking of, Cecilia thinks, this camp is wonderful. A small tent, soup bubbling over a small fire, and what looks to be the coziest blanket in the kingdom. The knight begins to take off his armor, placing his sword near Cecilia's feet. An act of trust, and honor.

"Oh, you're a much better knight than Lucan."

The knight laughs, shaking his head.

"Lucan? Lucan of Corinth? No wonder you were stuck in that lair for so long. Lucan couldn't fight his way out of a potato sack- just like his mother."

Cecilia might agree, but on principle, she has to defend Lucan. Even if he is a bit of a wet sock.

"Excuse you, sir, how could you say such things?" Cecilia scoffs.

The knight laughs a hearty laugh, shaking his head. His armor clangs as he sets down his breastplate, then, as he stirs the soup, he laughs again.

"Lucan is my son. My former wife, Queen Castella of Corinth, is his mother. She won't give him any money until he marries, so I work to get him out of that castle. Once I've gotten enough to get him some armor, I'll start taking him on jobs. He's not much good at fighting, but he's got a charming smile and he can navigate royals much better than me."

"You're..." Cecilia takes a small step back. "You're Galyn of Corinth. The knight of Corinth. You saved the queen from a dragon!"

"She saved herself. No one would believe her, so she picked up the scrawniest knight she could get her hands on. I worked hard to be a good knight, but I was no dragon killer. Not back then." Sir Galyn laughs. "Imagine our surprise when she was promised to me. I told her I could leave, if she wanted. She told me to stay."

"So... what happened?" Cecilia asks as she sits by the fire. "Everyone says you disappeared. But Lucan always says that his father is his favorite person, and you don't seem dishonorable."

"Well, it's simple. Castella and I outgrew each other. I wanted to mend things. She... didn't think we could."

"So you left?"

Sir Galyn shakes his head, gruffing and groaning as he dishes out soup for the two of them. He glares at nothing in particular, tossing a blanket towards Cecilia with a quiet "don't catch cold, now." and nothing more.

Cecilia eats her soup, quietly wondering about this man in front of her. Lucan has consistently praised him for being the best man he knows. Lucan is also about as smart as a basket of cottage cheese. And does the great Galyn of Corinth really have to stoop so low as to take lowly rescuing jobs? Those are for young knights who would be better suited to palace life- one grand gesture they can coast on for the rest of their lives. Most princesses are lucky- they get a kind man, an honorable knight. But this...

"I didn't leave, Princess. She kicked me out." Sir Galyn reveals. "I couldn't stop fighting nobles for making lewd comments about young servant girls. I couldn't leave it that children were starving and freezing in the streets. She said I wasn't the man she married. I just never became the prince she wanted."

Cecilia eats her soup, not daring to look at Sir Galyn. She is more curious now, especially now that she knows this is Lucan's father.

"Why take Lucan with you? He is Corinth's only heir." Cecilia asks eventually.

"Well, see, Lucan has some specific preferences that Corinth won't tolerate." Sir Galyn mutters. "Were this my home country, it wouldn't be an issue, but his mother is starting to get nasty about it."

"So... You're paying to take him away?"

"It's as you said, Princess. He is Corinth's only heir. His mother will fight to keep him, even at the cost of his life."

Cecilia remembers, quite viscerally and suddenly, how she saw Lucan playing with a knife at a ball last year. He was drunk- most of them were, as the wine was quite strong and the weather was quite cold- but the ease with which he had settled that knife against his throat terrified her. He had spent two hours talking to her, during which time she confessed that she did not ever wish to marry, and would allow her younger brother to take the throne. She even detailed her plans to move to a convent.

A month later, he had begun courting her. At the time, she saw it as a betrayal of her trust. Now, she's not so sure.

"I hope you succeed." Cecilia blurts out. "Lucan can be a bit of an ass on occasion, but he deserves to be happy. Everyone does, I think."

"Aye, Princess, that we do." Sir Galyn says. "Sleep. I'll take you home in the morning."

The princess has been rescued, hooray! But to her dismay the hero isn't young and handsome, instead he's a middle aged divorcee who took the job to pay alimony and child support.

[p1astr81]

second chances

in which: Lando tries to get his ex girlfriend back.

pairing: Lando Norris x pop star!fem!reader

genre: angst/fluff

warnings: cursing

an: this is part 2 of “second place”, but I think it could also make sense as a stand-alone.

part 1

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧ *

Performing with the wound of a breakup fresh in your heart was difficult, but the roaring crowds and their endless support made it a little easier.

You just finished up yet another show, the twelfth one since you’d broken off things with Lando three weeks ago. Kiké—knowing how hard the breakup was for you—walked in silence next to you and you navigated the backstage area. He simply offered his presence, which was a mild—but much appreciated—comfort to you.

Your eyes were trained on the way the dim lights made your boots sparkle. The last song on the setlist was the most emotional for you. A love song written for Lando. You nearly cried while singing it, and were struggling to keep it together even now.

Kiké only left your side once you reached the door of your dressing room. “Can you travel on the bus with me again?” You asked him softly. Between the last city and this one, Kiké joined you on your tour bus. Usually, he’d fly between locations with the other dancers, but he was more then happy to spend time with you.

He nodded. “Absolutely. We have to finish our show.” He joked, getting a smile out of you.

You bade him goodbye, and stepping into your dressing room. As soon as the door was closed, you let the tears fall, letting the door support your weight as you tried to not crumple to the floor.

A soft call of your name broke through the sounds of your sobs. You gasped, straightening up and reaching for the door handle. Your flight response automatically ceased when your gaze met Lando’s.

Your eyes narrowed. “Shouldn’t you be in Spain?” The tone of your voice was venomous, but he chose not to take offense to it.

“Yes, but I wanted to see you.”

You scoffed at that. “Who even let you in here?”

“Your security. I assume you haven’t told them?” You didn’t answer his inquiry, but that was answer enough.

“Look, I know I treated you like shit and I was never here for you, but I want to be.” A little late for that, you wanted to say. But you settled for a roll of your eyes. “And these past weeks have made me realize that life without you sucks.”

A heavy sigh fell from your lips ass you pushed off the door. You wandered over to your desk, and began taking your makeup off. Lando, left in silence and without a response, continued to sit quietly on the couch.

You glanced at him through he mirror. He was fumbling around with his fingers. “You can’t just show up here and expect me to take you back.”

Lando met your eyes through the reflection. “I know. But I really do mean it. Even if we’re just friends, that’s enough for me.” The fact you hadn’t told him to fuck off yet was honestly a step in the right direction for him.

Your eyes found the cotton pad more interesting than him. “I don’t know. You made me feel like I wasn’t worthy of your time. You can’t just fix that with a sorry.”

He stood from his spot on the couch and cautiously stepped to your side. “I’ll be better. Every show I can squeeze into my schedule, I’ll be there.” He nodded.

Having missed the feel of your skin on his, he wanted to reach out, place a hand on your shoulder, or your arm. But he refrained from doing so.

Considering his proposition, you bit your lip. “You said that before, Lan.” You muttered. He heard the disappointment in your voice and wanted to curse himself out for it.

He nodded. “And I regret not following through but I promise this time. And if I don’t honor it, that’s it. I’ll never bother you again.”

It was a terrible idea. You knew it was. Opening your heart up to him again, giving him all the power to tear it in two once more, it was risky. But with a sigh, you accepted. “One slip up, Norris, and I’m blacklisting you from my shows.” You joked.

———

In the coming weeks, Lando honored his promise to its fullest extent, and then some. Even the shows you didn’t expect him to be at—the ones that fell on a Sunday night, only a few hours after a race—he was there.

He’d even spend a couple hours after the shows with you in your tour bus before he inevitably needed to catch a flight.

So after a month of him showing up consistently, and proving himself, you finally gave into him.

It was after one of your shows, you were sat in the tour bus as it stood stationary. The both of you were planted on the couch, your legs across Lando’s lap. You’d been talking for the last hour and a half about seemingly nothing. And then you licked your lips, and bit your lip softly before calling his name. He looked to you with big brown eyes like a little doe. “I think you’ve proved that you’ve changed.” Lando’s brows raised, hopeful. “And… if you’d still want to-“

“Yes.” He replied without even letting you finish. “Sorry.” His gaze shifted to his hands which sat on your bare legs. His cheeks went red. “Continue.”

You laughed and shook your head. “No, I think you got the point.” You sifted in your seat, and leaned forward to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek.

[shrimpybbq]

thinking of how maybe high school gf probably pushed herself too hard after emmy was born because she kind of reverted back to when charlie was a baby and how she had no help and also taking care of rafe on her own. and rafe obviously doesn’t like that

this is similar to the last ask i answered, but she definitely did - especially as rafe was so busy with work and trying to rebuild the reputation of cameron development. she tried to do everything by herself, always doing her best to manage a bubbly and adventurous charlie with a brand new baby that couldn’t be left alone. she was constantly telling rafe,

“No it’s ok, you need to rest.”

“You have a big meeting tomorrow with the investors, don’t worry about this. I can take care of it.”

rafe was also off the drugs by that time, but when she noticed him start to drink more and more she began to do her best to help him. it didn’t really work, but he did promise her he would set a limit on his drinking. rafe didn’t realise how stressed and overwhelmed she was until he came home from a meeting one day, only to see her sobbing on the bed as she cradled emmy in her arms, the small baby crying non-stop.

“Hey, hey - baby! What’s going on? Are you ok?” he asked, watching her almost not even register his words.

“She won’t stop crying, Rafe! I’ve fed her, and I’ve changed her, and I sang to her and wore her and she just won’t stop and Charlie wants to play in the garden and I need to get your suit ready for tomorrow and the-“

rafe froze as he watched his wife cry, finally realising just how much she had been doing, and that maybe - despite her claims, she wasn’t coping. he felt awful and couldn’t believe he had been too blind to notice her struggling.

“Hey, give her to me, ok? Go take a nice bath, with all those salts and fragrances you like. I’m gonna look after the kids and get everything done,” rafe had commanded.

“No, but-”

“No, baby. You need to relax. You deserve it,” he continued, grabbing emmy from her arms as she looked up at him pitifully, “and ‘m sorry. I should’ve seen that you weren’t ok. I’m gonna do better and be here more often, m’kay? I’m not gonna be like my dad.”

rafe had practically dragged her into the bathroom and closed the door before walking down to the kitchen with his daughter. she had stopped crying after a few moments in her father’s arms (go figure),

“Hey, you’re not being very nice to your mother, you know that?”

rafe had carried out all the tasks he knew were on her list for the evening and even ordered take out for dinner that night, not wanting her to do any more work. he grinned as she wandered down the stairs after an hour, noticing her calmer demeanour,

“Feeling better, baby?”

she gave him a low hum in agreement and he had smiled once more, reaching down to kiss her. his hands ran over her hair, smoothing down the wet strands and admiring his wife.

“I meant what I said. You’re not doing this alone, and if I ever make you feel that way again, tell me. I gotta take care of you - you’re my wife. We’re partners in this shit.”

rafe and high school gf shared a smile and another kiss before turning to the gurgling baby girl in her high chair, her chubby cheeks now smushed full of food. she was the perfect mix of the two of them, and as the couple admired their baby girl, they shared a warm embrace.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One ThirtySix

Prompt from @travelingtwentysomething

“I want to try it.”

Steve is...ambivalent about the idea, to say the least.

“But what if it...hurts you. Or is poisonous?”

“Eddie has eaten and drunk loads of stuff, I don’t think it’ll hurt him, Steve,” Robin volunteers from the couch. She’s already a little drunk, her and Chrissy cuddled up next to each other.

“It grows out of the ground man, it’s practically a vegetable,” Argyle adds, really unhelpfully.

Jon, who Steve’s pretty sure was wasted before they even got here, adds, “that means it’s good for you. It’s green,” and then he starts giggling.

Eddie’s looking at Steve with big pleading eyes right now, but in a minute he’s going to turn stubborn about it, Steve’s sure, “you haven’t had a beer yet tonight, have you?”

Eddie shakes his head, “no.”

“Well, good, we’re not getting you cross faded right out of the gate, and just a little to start okay, share one with me?”

Eddie agrees immediately, and Argyle is already producing a pre-rolled from a little baggy, “this isn’t the hard shit bro, don’t worry. Baby steps for the little fishy,” Jon is set off giggling again.

They’re sprawled around on the lounge floor, a Christmas record playing, much to Eddie’s vocal disgust. It’s been forgotten now though, and only Nancy thinks to get up and flip it over.

Steve lights it and takes the first drag, holding it. Eddie watching him closely, “okay, go easy yeah, just a little breath in.”

Eddie nods, trying to copy Steve, but inevitably he ends up having a coughing fit, eyes watering. Steve takes it and rubs Eddie’s back, “is it supposed to be like that?” Eddie chokes out, voice a little fucked.

Jon starts giggling again, “he sounds just like great aunt Enid, she smoked a hundred a day.”

“It is to start with,” Steve tells him, “you still want to try?”

Eddie nods, taking the joint back from Steve. He’s more cautious this time, and knows what to expect, so he keeps it down a little better until he lets out a cloud of smoke on a mighty cough, Steve laughs, handing the last of the joint off to Robin’s questing fingers.

“It’d be easier on him if you shot gunned it-” Argyle starts, raising a lewd cheer and plenty of wolf whistles.

“What is shot gunned?”

“I’ll explain when you’re older,” Steve responds reflexively, everyone in the room promptly ‘boos’.

Steve takes a pillow to the face from Chrissy, “come on Steve, he never got to do the high school party thing. Go make out with him in a closet or something.”

Eddie immediately perks up, but then frowns, “why in the closet?”

Chrissy reaches over to smooth Eddie’s curls, clearly pretty trashed herself, “just dumb high school kid stuff baby. Pretty sure you wouldn’t want to play spin the bottle.”

“Spin the bottle?”

“It’s a game,” Steve explains, leaning into Eddie’s side, Argyle might think this stuff isn’t strong, but Steve hasn’t smoked anything for quite some time because of Eddie being around, and Argyle’s judgement on the strength of weed is clearly skewed by his monster tolerance, “say I spin a bottle, like, on the floor. We all sit in a circle around it, and whoever it lands on, we gotta’ kiss.”

Eddie’s face is an almost comedic scowl, “no.”

“No I know, none of that, I promise.”

Steve leans further, looking up from his new place in Eddie’s lap. He blows, making Eddie’s fluffy bangs fly about, giggling. Eddie’s eyes look a little bloodshot, but they crinkle at the corners just the same as he starts giggling too, tugging Steve’s hair in return.

Eddie’s sharp nails feel incredible on Steve’s scalp, “Stevie love, what is shot gun?”

Steve sighs, “someone hand me-” but it’s already there, and lit, Robin must have sourced another from Argyle in the meantime. Steve gets Eddie around the back of the neck, and he leans down easily when Steve pulls on him. Steve takes a deep drag, handing the joint back off to Robin, pulling Eddie down the rest of the way for an open mouthed kiss.

Steve breathes out his lungful, letting his tongue slide across the top of Eddie’s, Eddie gets the idea, breathing in deep, before turning it into a proper kiss and briefly sucking on Steve’s tongue in return.

Steve’s vaguely hopeful that they’re mostly hidden by Eddie’s hair and their position, but it doesn’t stop a dirty cheer being raised by everyone. Steve can’t really find it in himself to care that they’re being watched. The smoke still feels warm when Eddie exhales again, giving Steve slow, soft kisses as they break apart.

“What?” Eddie asks, looking around and, yup, Steve does too, confirming everyone is absolutely staring at them.

“It was hot,” Chrissy says, deadpan, and Robin snorts a laugh so long and ugly she ends it curled up, her forehead pressed to her knees.

“You’re just not...that publicly affectionate,” Nancy explains, probably the only sober person in the room, “it’s just...still new, you know?”

“Well it’s been like, a year?” Steve’s pretty sure that’s the right thing to say, but his thoughts are kind of syrupy.

Eddie’s playing with his collar now, tugging a little on a bit of chest hair he’s uncovered, “Stee. Eddidie...hungry.”

Steve hums, “yeah, I could eat, come on.”

There’s plenty of snacks laid out in the kitchen, and Steve follows Eddie as he immediately gravitates towards the chocolate cake, cutting himself a really fucking massive slice. Steve snorts a laugh at the size of it, watching as Eddie shovels in the first mouthful, his eyes sliding shut in pleasure as he chews; Steve grabs a fork and helps himself to some of Eddie’s.

“Stee,” Eddie says, kind of plaintive.

“What baby?”

Eddie frowns down at the cake, shaking his head, “good bad.”

“Oh? You want something different?”

But Eddie’s already put the cake down, rummaging in the fridge, he comes back with ketchup. Steve watches as Eddie dollops the ketchup, forks up some cake, dips, and eats.

He’s not entirely sure what to do, but Eddie lets out a quiet sigh of contentment and goes back for more.

Steve caves pretty fast, “that is...actually not that bad.”

Part ThirtyEight

[buttercandy16]

Asylum

Chapter Four: Enemy of my Enemy

PAIRING(s): Psychiatrist!Agatha Harkness x Patient!Reader x Inmate!Rio Vidal

SUMMARY: Wrongfully imprisoned, Reader becomes the obsession of Agatha, a cunning psychiatrist, and Rio, a fiery inmate. Together, they’ll ensure she’s theirs—forever.

WARNING(s): Obsession, Manipulation, Violence, Confinement, Madness, Dubcon, and Betrayal.

Rio's whispered promise to free you played in your mind like a scratched record for the rest of the day, the words insidious in their persistence. You didn’t want to believe her—couldn't trust her—but the possibility of escape, no matter how fragile, made your breath catch in your throat.

Could you really leave? And, more terrifying, would either of them let you?

By the time night fell, the edges of your resolve had begun to crumble. Your small cell felt more like a tomb, the walls pulsing with the weight of what lay ahead. The conflicting forces of Rio and Agatha loomed over you, as though the air between them left no room for you to breathe.

Then came the night Rio made good on her word—or so she claimed.

The clock had just struck midnight when your door creaked open.

“Psst.”

You jolted upright to see Rio’s unmistakable silhouette leaning in the doorway, her wild grin catching what little light filtered into the room. She looked untamed, even more so than usual, her hair messy, her eyes practically glittering with adrenaline.

“Get up, mi amor. Time’s up.”

You hesitated, instinct screaming at you to stay still, to stay quiet. If you left with her, this wouldn’t end well—Agatha would see to that.

Still, the thought of escape pulled at you like a siren song.

“Rio,” you whispered sharply, clutching the blanket around your knees. “This is insane. What are you—”

“Shut up and move,” she hissed, her voice low but fierce as she slipped into the cell. She crouched beside you, her fingers gripping your arm tightly. “We’re doing this. Now.”

Her intensity was suffocating, her presence taking up every inch of the confined space.

“Even if you don’t believe me, what’s keeping you here?” she asked, her lips brushing against your ear in the dark. “Her? You think she’s going to save you?”

Your breath hitched, your mind racing through every tangled interaction you’d had with Agatha over the past weeks. As terrifying as she was, there was safety in the familiarity of her controlled demeanor. But the memory of her possessive whispers and the subtle threats she weaved in her kindness still sent shivers down your spine.

“Let me save you, cariño.” Rio's voice softened now, tinged with what almost sounded like genuine affection.

And maybe that was why you found yourself swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. Maybe that was why, against your better judgment, you allowed Rio to take your hand.

The corridors of the asylum were eerily silent as Rio led you through them, her steps swift and silent on the cold floor.

"How do you know where to go?" you whispered, glancing nervously over your shoulder.

She smirked without looking back. "Unlike you, I’m not new to this place. I know its secrets."

Her confidence rattled you as much as it reassured you, the fine line between competence and recklessness blurring with every step she took.

But before long, that line snapped.

"Where do you think you're going?"

The voice sent ice through your veins. Agatha stepped out of the shadows at the far end of the corridor, her dark eyes cutting through the dim light like razors. Her usual composure was cracked just enough to show the rage simmering beneath her surface.

Rio froze, but only for a moment, before letting out a sharp laugh. "Of course you couldn’t just mind your own business, doc. Always watching, always scheming."

You stepped back instinctively, your heart pounding in your chest as Agatha's gaze slid to you. Her lips curved into a smile, but it wasn’t warm or reassuring—it was predatory.

"Step away from her, Rio," Agatha commanded, her voice dangerously calm.

"Not a chance," Rio shot back, shifting her body protectively in front of you. "I told you she’s not your toy to keep. She’s coming with me."

The tension in the air was suffocating as the two women locked eyes, the silent war between them more terrifying than any shouting match. You could feel their conflicting wills tugging at you like invisible chains, each pulling you closer to their side.

But you weren’t a pawn—or, at least, you didn’t want to be.

"Enough!" you snapped, your voice trembling but firm as you stepped forward.

Both women froze, their gazes snapping to you in unison.

"I can't—I can’t do this," you stammered, clutching your head as the weight of their obsession crushed you from both sides. "You’re both insane, and you’re dragging me down with you!"

Rio’s face twisted in frustration, while Agatha tilted her head, her dark hair framing her sharp features.

"Darling," Agatha began, her voice syrupy with forced calm, "you don’t know what you’re saying. You’re overwhelmed, but you’ll understand soon enough. You belong here—with me.”

“No,” Rio growled, cutting her off and stepping closer to you. “You don’t belong here at all, cariño. Let me take you away from her, from this place.”

"You think she’ll last a day out there?" Agatha snapped, her mask of calm fracturing entirely. "She’s fragile. The world will eat her alive without someone to protect her—someone like me."

“I’m right here, doc.” Rio’s voice was sharp enough to draw blood. “And I’m not letting her rot in your twisted little fantasy."

You felt dizzy, their words washing over you in an endless tide of possessiveness and control. Escape was no longer the question—survival was.

The choice was ripped away from you in the next moment. Before you could speak, Rio lunged.

She moved faster than you thought possible, closing the distance between herself and Agatha with predatory precision. For a moment, you thought she might actually win—until you saw the glint of silver in Agatha’s hand.

The syringe plunged into Rio’s neck before she could react, her wild grin faltering as her legs buckled beneath her.

"You fool," Agatha hissed, catching Rio’s falling body with chilling ease. "Did you really think you could win this game?"

You backed away, terror clawing at your throat as Agatha turned her attention back to you.

"Now," she said, smoothing her rumpled coat as though nothing had happened, "let’s get you back where you belong."

Her calm words were the last thing you heard before darkness closed in around you.

When you woke, your body felt heavy, like you'd been pulled from quicksand. The world swam into focus slowly, the familiar dim light of the infirmary's ceiling above you. A sharp sting in your arm drew your attention downward to find an IV taped against your skin.

Panic surged as the fog of sedation lifted, and the fragmented memories of last night crashed down on you. Rio’s body crumpling as Agatha overpowered her, the clinical calm in Agatha’s tone as she promised to “fix” everything.

Your throat tightened. Had she drugged you, too? How long had you been out?

The sound of voices filtered into the room, growing clearer as the door swung open. You didn’t need to look to know who they belonged to.

“She’s mine, Rio,” Agatha’s voice was sharp but level, though it carried an unmistakable tension. “You nearly ruined everything.”

Rio’s laugh was ragged, tinged with defiance despite its weakness. “Oh, yeah? And what’s your excuse, doc? You don’t think chaining her here with your manipulative crap will snap her eventually?”

You turned your head just enough to see them. Agatha’s posture was as stiff and upright as always, though her dark eyes burned with barely-contained rage. Rio, in contrast, looked disheveled and furious, leaning against the wall for support, a hand pressed to her neck where the syringe had struck.

“I wasn’t the one trying to haul her through the asylum like some thief in the night,” Agatha spat. “You’re reckless. No plan, no care for what would’ve happened if you were caught. Do you think security wouldn’t have thrown her in solitary for weeks after your stunt?”

“And your plan is so much better?” Rio shot back, stepping closer despite her visible weakness. “What, smother her until she loves you back? At least I wasn’t drugging her into compliance.”

“She would never survive outside of here,” Agatha snapped, her control slipping for the briefest moment. “You may think you’re the lesser evil, but what you tried would have destroyed her.”

The weight of their conversation fell heavily on you, the realization settling like a stone in your gut: they were arguing over you like you were some prize to be won. Not a person, not a victim of circumstance, but a thing—their thing.

You’d been nothing more than their pawn this entire time.

The truth ignited something deep within you, a flame that burned past the sedation weighing on your limbs. You clenched your hands, determination coalescing with your fear.

If neither of them would let you go, you’d have to take matters into your own hands.

The next few days blurred as you began quietly planting seeds of misdirection. Every word you said to either of them was careful, calculated—designed to sow discord between the two. It didn’t take much effort; their hatred for one another was barely concealed beneath the surface.

Agatha cornered you in the therapy room on the second day, her gaze softer than usual.

“You look tired, darling,” she said, her voice low and soothing as she sat across from you. “But don’t worry. Things are going to be different soon. I’ll keep you safe from her.”

You nodded numbly, knowing better than to argue. “She scares me,” you whispered, a faint quiver added to your tone. “She... she keeps talking about getting me out of here, but... I don’t know if I trust her.”

The faint twitch of satisfaction in Agatha’s expression didn’t escape your notice. She reached across the table, her fingers brushing yours in a way that made you shiver.

“You don’t need to worry about her,” she murmured. “I’ll handle Rio.”

Later that evening, you sought Rio out, finding her in the common room, idly twirling a fork between her fingers like a weapon. When she saw you, her expression softened, though her grin remained sharp-edged.

“Well, if it isn’t my little escape artist,” she teased, gesturing for you to sit beside her.

You hesitated but obliged, lowering your voice to a whisper as you leaned in. “She’s watching me, Rio. Every move I make. I think... I think she knows I’m still considering leaving.”

Rio’s grin faltered, her jaw tightening. “Of course she is,” she said bitterly. “That witch has her claws in deep, doesn’t she?”

“She told me she’d stop you if you tried anything again,” you added, your voice soft but urgent. “I... I’m scared of what she might do to you, Rio.”

Her eyes snapped to yours, and for a moment, her fury seemed to melt away, replaced by something softer—something raw.

“Let her try,” Rio muttered, her voice low but vicious. “But she won’t win.”

What you hadn’t counted on was how far the two of them would go to maintain their hold on you.

It started small—subtle shifts in their behavior. Agatha spent more time with you, her demeanor bordering on saccharine as she reassured you that everything would be alright if you stayed under her care. Rio grew increasingly protective, pulling you into hushed conversations where she ranted about Agatha’s manipulative control.

But then came the night they both broke.

You were woken by the sound of voices raised in anger just outside your cell.

“You idiot!” Agatha’s voice was sharp, her words slicing through the silence like a blade. “Do you have any idea what your little games are doing to her?”

“Oh, spare me the concern,” Rio shot back. “At least I don’t treat her like some fragile doll you can lock in a cabinet.”

“Because dragging her into chaos is so much better?” Agatha sneered. “You’re reckless, unhinged—she doesn’t need that.”

“She doesn’t need you either,” Rio snarled.

The sound of a struggle followed, something crashing against the wall.

“I’m not letting you win,” Agatha hissed.

For a moment, silence reigned, heavy and suffocating.

Then came Agatha’s next words, quieter but venomous: “If either of us pushes too hard, she’ll break. We’ll lose her. Is that what you want?”

The shift in tone sent chills down your spine.

“If you think I’m teaming up with you, you’re crazier than they say I am,” Rio said, though the venom in her voice faltered.

Agatha’s response was disturbingly calm: “We don’t have a choice.”

Your blood ran cold as realization dawned. You weren’t escaping. You were being pulled even deeper into their web.

And now? Now they were working together to keep you there.

_-_-_

Please don't forget to vote, reblog, and comment 💜💚

[crescenthistory]

hello there,

i’ve been a follower & a big admirer of your work for quite some time now — so i thought, perhaps i could leave a suggestion down here for when (if) you have the time and inspiration ?

here is what i had in mind,

female reader who is a freshly transferred student at hogwarts, and someone who happened to become very close to regulus. close enough for their mutual attraction to be clear and their relationship labeled as somewhat of a talking stage.

which is why it’s only natural when slytherin skittles, as regulus’ best mates, feel it is their mission to make sure reader is a decent person and someone who would not leave his heart broken. after all, it’s not an interrogation if they ‘just so happened to stumble over her in the common room’ while regulus is away. or maybe it is. still, they are looking out for him.

anyways, feel free to shape the scenario however you see fit or not write it all if it’s not what you’d be interested in. i hope your day is going great and i’m sending you all the love and hugs ! xoxo

hi there darling, thank you so much for your kind words and request<33 i went with the skittles hounding regulus prior to meeting up with reader, hope that's alright with you, mwah

Words: 1.3k

Warnings/tags: not proofread, fem!reader, slytherin skittles focus, banter, barty and dorcas bully regulus a little, you're not an active part in this but are talked about, regulus is in love and embarrassed over his friends, reader's background prior to hogwarts is not addressed, seer!pandora

"Is it truly so hard to believe that someone other than you lot would dare be friends with me?"

The dorm erupted in various statements of "yeah, pretty much", "duh" and even Evan's "if what you have with her is a friendship, then I don't think we're friends, Reg."

Even on his worst days, Regulus was beyond grateful for the ragtag found family he had been swept into during his time in Slytherin. Barty who essentially picked him up one day and claimed him as his own, Evan with whom he found solace in the quiet, Dorcas who became the best verbal sparring partner he could ask for and Pandora who understood him better than he had ever thought possible – these were his people through and through.

Unfortunately, his people were kind of arseholes.

"It's taken us years to crack through your," – Barty, from where he was perched across Evan's lap, waved in Regulus' general direction with disdain – "stoicism, and you tell me this bird has you asking her out within a month? We have to believe that shit is some twisted dark magic."

"You would know all about twisted dark magic, wouldn't you, B?" Dorcas volleyed through a laugh, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at him.

"Fuck off, Dorc, I thought you were with me on this!"

Evan playfully napped at Barty's ear when his passionate outburst turned its heat from Regulus to Dorcas.

“I can play for two teams." Dorcas seemed offended at Barty’s assumption of her loyalty, while Pandora sat beside her with an impervious smile, unaffected by the back and forth. “And don’t fucking call me that, Crouch.” 

Evan had to catch Barty’s foot by the ankle when he tried to launch it towards Dorcas in retaliation.

Regulus dropped his head into his hands with a groan. With Barty and Evan lounging on Barty's bed and Dorcas and Pandora on the floor in between, Regulus was left on the edge of his own bed, feeling awfully sorry for himself for having caring – if meddling – friends.

"Can you guys please be normal tonight?" he asked into his hands. Without looking up, he held a finger into the air to quell the argument about to fall off of Barty's tongue. "Don't. By normal I mean don't scare her off. Don't go asking weird or inappropriate or threatening questions, okay?"

"I simply cannot promise that." Both Dorcas and Evan gave Barty a wack to the leg and arm for his comment.

“I resent Barty at the moment, but yeah no, that’s going to be a tough ask, Reggie,” Dorcas amended.

Regulus eventually lifted his head to stare in near-defeat at his friends. "Listen. I... I like her, okay? Like proper, more than I thought I could. I want her to keep feeling comfortable around me, this is all still very... new to her."

He didn’t have to say that this was new to him, too. 

Pandora shifted in that way that alerted everyone to the fact she was about to speak – only when she spoke did Barty ever actually shut up. She smiled softly. "You're in love." She stated it plainly, a fact.

Regulus felt as if he had been punched in the gut by her assertion. "I– What?" he stumbled, gaze flashing quickly to spot the mirth and mischief on all of his friends' faces. With a steadying breath, he pressed his lips together and his palms to his knees. "That is way too soon to say, Dora. But I'd like to think I might eventually be. If you lot don't fuck it up for me." That last sentence was directed towards the bed opposite his with a light glare.

Barty threw his head back with a gleeful, almost screeching laughter and fully ignoring most of what Regulus had said. "This is going to be so fun!"

"We're not going to fuck it up," Dorcas translated Barty's sentence, with the dignity to wear a somewhat rueful smile. "Though, I will say, if she cannot handle these dynamics of ours, I question how she will be able to sustain a relationship with you."

That exact fear had been brewing in Regulus' stomach all day, ever since you agreed this morning to join him with his friends to Hogsmeade tonight after spending almost every day together in the library for the past month. Being with you was the highlight of his days, a quiet sort of ease settled into his bones, and he ached to extend it past dinnertime. What you had was special to him, something he feared to lose, though he did not dare voice it. He had no idea how to answer Dorcas' musings, but thankfully he didn't have to.

"Oh, she will," Pandora assured, breezily, as if this was a cosmic law.

"You’s seen her?" Evan questioned, looking at his sister with a gaze only she could decipher. She made a so-and-so head movement, which seemed to be a perfectly understandable answer to Evan.

Regulus supposed it was to him, too.

"Really, Reg, we're not going to scare her off or traumatise her or whatever else you're accusing us of here," Barty grumbled, as if relenting. He crawled out of Evan's lap to come hustle Regulus out of his perfectly comfortable seated position, slapping the sides of his arms when he stood. "We might interrogate her a little bit – but, hey, that's just to know that she deserves our little prince! And we'll be totally nice and polite or whatever."

"Reassuring, Barty." Regulus gave him an unimpressed glare, but the corners of his lips tugged at his best friend's familiar tactics.

"Great, 'cause that's not my strong suit you know!" Barty called out as he whipped around, grabbing his coat and bag in a flurry. “Pulling out the big guns just for you, Reggie.”

"Never thought I'd hear him admit that," Dorcas mumbled to herself, drawing a giggle from Pandora.

The rest of the group seemed to get the signal that it was about time to move outside, having been chattering away for the past half an hour after Regulus insisted on them getting ready early, lest they be late. "Finally heading out?" Evan questioned gleefully, not one to want to wait for long.

"Yeah. Just, again, please. Be cool." Regulus stressed it one final time, regarding them all sternly.

Barty gasped. "He said please!"

"Then we simply have to," Dorcas agreed.

With a roaring laughter, they opened the door and filtered out as if they were one large entity. Regulus supposed in some ways they were, which made him feel terribly sorry for you and what he was about to put you through.

And he knew he was a selfish man when he thought it next, but his blood warmed nonetheless as he hoped you liked him just as much as he did you – which would mean enough to withstand his friends' undoubtedly incoming interrogation.

Lucky for him, by the entrance of the Great Hall, where you had agreed to meet, you were standing in your favourite outfit and wringing your hands, eager to not just withstand but dance in that very storm.

[multific]

Full Again

Dimitri Kraminoff x Reader

Warnings: Spoilers for Kraven, pregnancy, angst

Summary: You left him, you ran away. But he found you and he needs answers.

“Why? I thought you were different. You left me just like my brother.”

You couldn’t even look into his eyes. Avoiding him at all costs was the plan for the last year.

Well, almost a year, 11 months.

And there he was.

Sitting across from you at the table in his club.

Kidnapping you was exactly what he did. Bringing you here against your will.

And he only had one question.

“Why?”

The pain in his voice hurt.

“I had my reason.”

“I know you still love me. I can see in your eyes. So then what can possibly be your explanation?”

“I can’t-“ his fist met the table. It made you jump and his drink almost spilled.

“Bullshit,” he whispered. “Did you find someone? Someone better? Taller? More muscles?”

“No.” your answer was immediate and straightforward.

"THEN WHY?" he yelled, his eyes filled with tears.

"Because I was scared and pregnant," you said and a huge weight fell from your shoulders. You looked at your feet and blinked back the tears. "I was scared of your father." you looked into his eyes. "It broke me, but I had to leave. Who knows what he would have done if he found out? You know he never liked me."

"So, I have a child?"

"Yes." your voice was shaky yet it held power.

"How could you be so selfish? I have a child and you ran away?"

"I was selfish yes. A selfish mother who put their child before me. Please, you have to understand Dimi." you were crying. "Last year, during your birthday, your father looked at me and he told me that if I dared get pregnant he would personally kill my child and me. He looked into my eyes and told me this."

"Why didn't you tell me he threatened you?"

"You know I couldn't. And so, like a coward, I ran. I'm sorry." you stood up and wanted to leave.

"My father is dead you know. You don't have to be scared anymore. I took over his business. He can no longer hurt you." you looked at Dimitri shocked.

"How did he die?" you turned to look at him.

"Hunting accident. But I know my brother's hand was in it. You don't have to be scared anymore, come back to me. I will keep you safe. Both of you." he stood up and rushed over to you but you put your hands up, his chest met with your hands, but you didn't push him away.

Your eyes searched his for any sign of a lie.

"Is he really?" you whispered and he quickly nodded. "He is home, I can get him for you."

Dimitri looked confused.

"My father? I told you he is buried, in pieces."

"No, our son. I named him Mikhail. I call him Misha. Two months old, I found a kind woman who babysits him while I work." you looked behind yourself at the door. "I can bring him to you. You can meet him." your head snapped back and looked into his eyes as his hands came to his chest and held yours.

"You are so beautiful. I missed you so much."

His voice was so soft, so kind.

"I'm so sorry." tears began to fall again but his hand held you even closer, pulling you in.

His lips met yours.

It was so sweet and it filled your heart with so much love.

How could you leave him?

You love him so much.

"Let's get our son. I want us three to go home."

Home.

"I will get him for you, just give me a driver and a car. I need to... pack his things."

"Okay, I will still go with you."

"You won't be happy with the place I rent."

---

And you were right.

Dimitry looked at the building and froze.

You took this opportunity to go in and get your son from your neighbour.

"I brought you someone," you told Misha as he giggled. "Your father." you smiled as you lifted him and began putting his stuff away.

Dimitry walked into the apartment with a frown.

"Misha, look who it is," you said to your child with a voice only babies get. Misha was still very small.

Being only two months old.

But he looked exactly like Dimitry.

"My son." you handed your son to Dimitry who carefully held and looked at Misha. "I promise you, I will be so much better."

You believed him, you knew he would try his hardest to be the best father possible.

And you know he will be able to achieve his goal.

Once you finished picking up all your stuff, Dimitry guided you to your new home.

Misha quickly fell asleep and you placed him in the guest room, in the middle of the bed.

"We will decorate a room for him, I will buy everything he will ever need."

"Thank you, Dimi."

You two also decided to go to bed shortly after.

"He usually wakes up once per night to eat," you said as you lay down.

The mattress felt like heaven under your tired body.

"I will get up for him."

"And what will you feed him with?" you asked with a yawn as you closed your eyes.

You could imagine the confusion on his face.

You fell asleep not long after that.

Dimitri stayed up and watched you.

He was so happy to have you back. He was able to finally find you.

And now there you slept next to him with his son sleeping in the other room.

Dimitri slowly got up and headed to the room next door.

He walked in and watched his son sleeping, Dimitri knelt on the floor next to the bed and watched his son sleep.

"You look just like me," he whispered and ran a finger down the baby's cheek.

His mind was completely blank all he could do was feel, Misha's cheek was so soft.

"I now completely understand your mother. I would have run away with you too."

Dimitri watched Misha sleep for about an hour before he headed back to his bed where you were.

He moved in under the blanket and pulled you close before he went to sleep.

His heart also felt full.

A/N: The above picture is not mine, credit goes to the owner. (once we have some gifs uploaded to Tumblr, I will be able to use those)

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief 

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen @mel-vaz

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[rainroses45]

Cherry Pie with Whip

ᥫ᭡description: Dean thinks there is not a single coherent thought behind those eyes, you prove him wrong ish Dean Winchester x Bimbo Fem! Reader ᥫ᭡a/n: I can't write the whole smut thing BUT I LOVE GIRLY POP READER SO MUCH ALSO LOVE THIS SONG SO VERY MUCH (Not Edited) ᥫ᭡song inspo: Every Man Gets his wish - Lana Del Rey ᥫ᭡warning: mentions of the devils tango

"Dean, I don't get it," you whined, your new glossy pink nails tapped against the table as you tilted your head, lips in a perfect pout. "Why does it have to be salt? Can't we just, like, use sugar or something? It's prettier."

Dean smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching as he stepped closer, his boots heavy against the floor. "Sweetheart, if sugar worked on ghosts, trust me, l'd be throwing cupcakes at 'em." His voice dripped with amusement, “next time you can add glitter to the salt.”

You smiled up at him, your top hitched up as you reached over to place your hands around Dean’s neck. He squeezed you closer to him, pushing your bosoms up.

“Have I ever told you how much I love cherries,” he gazed into your eyes. The fresh coat of mascara and the shimmery eyeshadow made you look like a lost innocent baby doe.

“We should go get cherry pie,” you smiled innocently, unaware of the tall older man starring down your shirt. Your cleavage on full display for his lust full eyes.

“I think I got something better here.” He smirked. “Something bigger and juicier to fill me up.”

“Oh yeah,” you smiled, “maybe we can get some whip cream on top?”

“Now we are talking, got to keep my blood sugar in check.” He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist which caused his shirt to ride up displaying his delicious v-line. Your clotthed cunt rubbing against his abdominal instinctively.

Dean groaned as his hands squeezed your heart shaped ass. You laced your fingers into his hair steadying yourself from floating away from the moment, Dean noticed the fog begin to form in your eyes. “I wonder sometimes if there is ever a coherent thought behind those y/e/c eyes.”

You softly pulled the ends of your boyfriend’s hair in response, “hey don’t be mean,” you pouted.

“You know what I mean princess,” Dean kissed up your neck towards the sensitive spot that he knew would make you weak. You moaned causing your chest to rise further up Dean’s face.

“where did you learn how to be such a tease?” Dean mumbled in your ear nibbling at the skin.

“what does that mean?” You asked.

Dean stopped his actions to view your face, trying to figure out if you were actually joking.

“Honey, do you not know what tease means?” He asked to which you shook your head.

“Do you know about sex?” You nodded.

“Are you sure?” Dean asked again, “I don’t want to pressure you in anything sweetheart, you are in control.”

“I learned how to make love from the movies.” You blushed, hiding away from his gaze. Dean chuckled at your innocent response, before feeling guilty, had he known your level of knowledge on the topic he wouldn’t have been so forward.

“Aww sweetheart that’s nothin’ be ashamed about,” you still avoided his gaze, “why don’t you show me what you learned and I could help you out…wouldn’t that be nice sweet cheeks.” Dean kissed up to your face, trying to pry your hands away from his face. “Of course with your consent and approval it’s all up to you.” You nodded, still a little embarrassed from your previous statement.

Dean smiled fondly at you, “I promise to make you feel so good you’ll be seeing stars sugar.”

“Really?” You moved your hands away excitingly. “Just like in pretty woman?” You asked.

“Even better.” He pecked your lips. “Just say the words princess and I’m on my knees.”

“You’re so sweet Dean.” You blushed kissing his cheek. “How can I ever repay you?”

“I got a few ways but first things first I got to take care of my baby girl.”

[sugurugetoshairbrush]

playing match-maker with professor!gojo satoru [prev]

Dr. Gojo Satoru added Prof. Shoko Ieiri to Cupids <3

Dr. Gojo Satoru: Sho where are you taking your lunch today? You: Eat with us in Gojo’s lab!

Prof . Getou Suguru emphasized your message

Prof. Shoko Ieiri: …why? Dr. Gojo Satoru: colleague bonding time! Prof. Shoko Ieiri: what’s the catch? You: Why does there have to be a catch T-T Prof. Getou Suguru: Join us, and we’ll accompany you to that meditation class taught by the cute brunette you’ve been drooling over.

Dr. Gojo Satoru laughed at a message

Prof. Shoko Ieiri: yeah alright

Shoko appears in the doorway of Gojo’s lab shortly after agreeing to join. Her white lab coat flutters as she strides in, a fitted blue shirt tucked into black pin-striped slacks. She plops her brown bag onto the table beside you, tossing her long brown hair over her shoulder, and extracts a sandwich and an apple.

Across from you, Gojo sits perched at his desk, leaning back with his legs crossed atop the surface. His usual smug determination is evident, highlighted by his untouched strawberry cheesecake yogurt. His white turtleneck peeks above the collar of his lab coat, accentuating the icy hue of his hair and brows.

Unfortunately, spending so much time with Gojo means you are beginning to mirror him in subtle (and sometimes regrettable) ways. Today’s shared wavelength is your matching outfits—both of you in white turtlenecks and brown straight-leg slacks. Though, judging by the label on his, the price tags aren’t even close.

Getou, seated on a stool to your other side, shakes his salad container, the silver hem of his cardigan shimmering under the fluorescent light. A stray strand of hair falls across his face, and he tucks it behind his ear before turning to Shoko, who silently munches on her sandwich.

“So,” Getou begins, smirking, “we’re just going to ignore how quickly the promise of getting near your little hippie crush convinced you?”

Gojo snickers and Shoko shoots Getou a glare.

“She’s not a hippie,” Shoko retorts, wiping her mouth. “Meditation is a holistic approach with spiritual and health benefits. What do you guys even want from me? Gojo, you don’t eat lunch on campus—ever. The café staff down the road probably know you better than your students.”

You chime in. “Important business, Shoko. Gojo and I are working on a project requiring the intellectual brilliance of like-minded individuals.”

Getou nods solemnly. Shoko laughs.

“Thank god you entertain him,” she says. “Back when my pre-med lab was next to his, he wouldn’t stop dragging me into his ridiculous schemes. You’ve saved me countless headaches.”

Gojo grabs a stress ball from his desk and lobs it at her. Shoko deflects it with her elbow, the ball bouncing to the floor.

“You’re so mean,” Gojo pouts. “Anyway, you’re here to confirm my theory that first-years Itadori Yuji and Kugisaki Nobara are the ideal match.”

Shoko groans. “Of course I am. Let me guess—you two,” she points at you and Getou, “think Itadori and Fushiguro Megumi are a better match.”

You nod eagerly.

“Well,” she sighs, leaning back, “considering Gojo’s total lack of social awareness, I’d normally side with you two. But…Gojo, are you positive that you can concretely back your theory?”

Gojo stands, pacing dramatically. “Is an atom that’s lost its electron considered positive?”

“I think you’re saying yes?” you guess.

“Exactly!” Gojo snaps his fingers, grinning triumphantly.

Shoko, ever the pragmatist, pulls out her phone. “Fine. This semester, I’m teaching those three in Health & Wellness. Let me show you something.”

She scrolls through her phone and finally finds a video. “Yuji and Nobara worked together on a group project. Watch this.”

00:03 =⬤--------------------------- 01:17 

⇆ㅤ ◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷ㅤ ↻ 

[The video begins, revealing Yuji and Nobara squeezed together in the frame, their smiles radiant. Nobara playfully elbows Yuji, whose eyes widen in mock shock before he starts speaking.]

Yuji: “Hello, Sensei! Nobara and I finished the group assignment together and decided to try something totally out of our comfort zone. Actually, it’s something we’ve joked about before because it sounded ridiculous.”

[He stifles a laugh, running a hand through his pink hair, the short strands standing on end.]

Yuji: “We went to a local teaching farm and did… goat yoga. We’ve seen the posters on campus forever, so we thought, why not? It was a blast! The goats were fun, and hanging out with Nobara was great too!”

Nobara: “Yeah! Honestly, I was kind of nervous at first. It’s not easy convincing a goat to climb on your back during yoga poses. But once they did, their little hooves felt like a mini massage. Here—look!”

[She lifts a photo into the frame, holding it close to the camera. The image comes into focus: Yuji in a shaky downward dog pose on a yoga mat, Nobara beside him coaxing a tiny goat onto his back with a piece of hay. Nobara bursts out laughing and shakes the photo.] 

Nobara: “Haha! Right after this, the goat climbed off Yuji and—get this—it started peeing. Like, it barely missed his pants! He’s so lucky he didn’t get soaked.”

[Yuji yelps, shoving her shoulder while Nobara doubles over, her laughter echoing. Grinning through his embarrassment, Yuji snatches the camera, bringing it close to his face.]

Yuji: “Okay, Sensei, I’m cutting this off. Nobara’s having way too much fun at my expense. But yeah, aside from that one… incident, it was really fun. I’d totally do it again!”

[His hand covers the lens, and the screen fades to black.] 

01:17 =================⬤ 01:17

⇆ㅤ ◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷ㅤ ↻

Shoko lowers her phone, pressing it to her lips as if lost in thought.

“Sorry, you two. After watching that again, I’m siding with Gojo on this. Look at them—they’re glowing. If someone made me laugh and smile like that, I’d be completely done for.”

Getou scoffs, muttering something about how that explains why Shoko’s “so giggly after meditation.”

You shush him, trying to keep things light.

“Alright, that makes it 2-3. But you know who else teaches those three? Professor Haibara. We have to ask him.”

Before long, Haibara Yu strolls into Gojo’s lab, looking as disheveled as ever. His charcoal slacks are slightly wrinkled, his pale pink shirt untucked, and his silver glasses sit crooked on his nose.

“You called—Oh! Everyone’s here! Hi!” he exclaims, spreading his arms wide in greeting.

Getou, ever efficient, disposes of his salad container and slings an arm over Haibara’s shoulder.

“Hey, Yu. Quick question: as their professor, do you think Yuji and Megumi would make a good match?”

Haibara blinks, caught off guard. “As in… romantically?”

When Getou nods, Haibara rubs the back of his neck, thinking.

“Well, they’re in my History of the Samurai class, and let me tell you, they’re my most enthusiastic students. On the first day, I asked what everyone already knew about samurai. Yuji and Megumi practically bolted to the board and started writing a list of skills they’ve practiced together.”

He grabs a marker and writes neatly on the whiteboard:

Samurai Fighting Basics – Megumi & Yuji

• Iaido: Drawing & Sheathing Iaitō • Kenjutsu: Bokken Stances & Striking • Kendo: Shinai Quick Attacks

“They even demonstrated some techniques right there in class,” Haibara says with a grin, his thick bangs falling into his eyes. “It’s obvious they’re close and share so many interests. Honestly, I ship it!”

The room erupts into chaos as everyone starts debating further. The argument rages on until Gojo’s next class begins trickling in, scattering the group with reluctant promises to continue later.

During your own lesson, as your students take turns popcorn-reading poetry, your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Dr. Gojo Satoru: Hey, I just remembered. We’re facilitating that student union meeting today. We can totally ask the upperclassmen for their opinions!

You sigh, typing back a quick response.

You: Fine. Get back to teaching, Gojo.

When you woke up this morning, you definitely didn’t expect to be holed up in an empty classroom, grilling the Student Union’s elite members one by one about your matchmaking drama. Yet here you are, derailing their bi-weekly brainstorming session for fund allocation. To justify your antics, you and Gojo promised them unwavering financial support—if they gave you honest answers.

First up is Vice-President Okkotsu Yuta, his usual warm demeanor making him an ideal candidate for candid feedback. Sitting across from him, you can’t help but notice how he smiles sheepishly, like he’s trying to soften whatever he’s about to say.

“This probably won’t help much,” Yuta begins, rubbing the back of his neck, “but I’m ninety percent sure Maki likes Nobara. I mean, I can really see it, so I propose… NobaMaki.”

You and Gojo exchange a look, equally unimpressed. Without a word, you call in the next person.

Secretary Inumaki Toge is next. Sassy and loyal, he takes his seat across from you with a raised brow, clearly amused by the situation. After you explain the debate, he listens intently before lifting his hands to sign his response.

“I don’t know about Megumi and Yuji,” Toge signs carefully, his fingers precise, “but if you’re suggesting Nobara and Maki, I’ve got news: I’ve heard Maki and Yuta are actually a thing.”

You freeze mid-follow-up, fumbling for the signs to convey “suggest” and “imply.” Gojo swoops in, translating seamlessly. Of course, he’s fluent—he picked up sign language quickly after the two of you agreed to learn for Toge’s sake.

“Well,” you mutter, leaning back in your chair. “That cleared up absolutely nothing.”

Finally, you summon President Zenin Maki. Confident and direct, she strides in with her arms crossed, rectangular glasses reflecting the fluorescent lights. Her thick lashes peek over the frames as she narrows her eyes at you.

“What now?” she snaps, cutting right to the chase. “Me and Yuta? Seriously? Look, you didn’t hear this from me, but since we’re dragging Yuta into this—Toge likes him. So there’s that.”

Maki turns on her heel and marches out, her ponytail swishing with every sharp step.

Gojo groans dramatically and leans his head on your shoulder, the soft tips of his snowy-white hair brushing your cheek.

“This is just getting more ridiculous,” he says, voice muffled against your arm. “Everyone’s in love with someone else. What the fuck?”

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. Careful not to disturb Gojo, who’s still sulking on your shoulder, you retrieve it.

Prof. Nanami Kento Can you return my projector tomorrow morning? I need it for my lesson. Thank you kindly. Also, I hear you and Gojo are still sniffing around where you don’t belong. Just a word of advice: being messy usually leads to more mess. Good luck cleaning it all up.

You sigh, sliding your phone back into your pocket. Nanami’s right, of course. But does that mean you’ll stop? Absolutely not.

insp by @r4yz-4u's comment !

[candyheartedchy]

Saw a post talking about this, but I didn’t want to reblog and ramble in the tags of said post, so I’m bring it up here about the whole situation when it comes to people messaging first or not when it comes to their friends.

I struggle a lot with anxiety and constantly worrying that I’m bothering people when I reach out to talk first that 97% of the time I end up not messaging people at all. I’ve been trying to push myself out of my comfort zone when it comes to this, and getting better, when it comes to sending the first message because I want to let folks know that I do genuinely enjoy our conversations and want to be friends with them. But because of my past situations I end up falling back into the habit of isolating myself because I’m familiar with doing it to cope.

In a way I want to let folks know that when they message me first, I’m always excited to hear from them! And also to reassure anyone that may worry about bothering me. I promise y’all aren’t. There will be times that my text pattern might be different in tone, but that’s just me being tired and awkward.

Heck I’m always surprise when anyone really wants to talk to me in general because I usually get ignored irl. And if I’m being honest, I see a lot of you as my friends, but I’m always nervous to bring up the title because I’m not sure if it’s just one sided or I’m just projecting out of loneliness. So whenever someone says we’re friends I get caught off guard because I haven’t had any in so long.

Basically this is just me throwing in my two cents about people who try to test their friendship on how much people really care or not when it comes to who’s messaging first. I do agree that both parties should try to reach out to each other as much as they can to let each other know they do care. But I also want to bring up that a lot of times most of us struggle with reaching out due to trauma that relates to past friendships not going well and worrying about having those same experiences again. But also lot of folks are afraid to reach out first because they don’t want to embarrass themselves when it comes to making friends or losing that chance because they never had the experience of having a friend before. And I’m saying this from my own experience.

In the end I think if you really care about your friends, just communicate. And reassure the ones that reach out first that even though you struggle with talking, you still appreciate them and also just remind them that you like them because they worry about bothering you too. Because most of us don’t have any friends irl and our online friends are all we have. So even when others try to say that online friendships don’t count, they are missing the whole point of what friendships really is.

[slutpinks]

Irresistible Cravings

Lalisa Manoban ( lisa )

10k words

part one here

The cravings, Lisa cannot resist.

(🎀)

Y/N’s eyes gleamed with a devilish intent as he presented Lisa with his twisted proposition.

“If you want to cum, pet, then you’ll have to video call your dear old dad and do it right in front of him. Or, you can wait until I give you permission. The choice is yours.”

Lisa’s eyes widened in horror at the suggestion, her face flushing with a mix of shame and unbridled arousal. The thought of exposing herself to her father in such a depraved manner was both terrifying and thrilling. But the ache between her thighs was becoming unbearable, and she knew she couldn’t hold out much longer.

With a shuddering breath, she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay, Y/N… I’ll do it. Just… please, don’t make me wait any longer.”

Hands trembling, Lisa reached for her phone, her heart pounding in her chest as she dialed her father’s number.

Y/N snatched Lisa’s phone and tossed it aside, a cruel smirk playing on his lips.

“Oh, did you really think I’d let you off the hook that easily, pet? No, I was just joking. You’re not going to cum tonight – not until I say so.”

He resumed his teasing, dragging his fingers along her sensitive skin, eliciting a desperate whimper from Lisa. Her body ached with unfulfilled desire, the promise of release dangled just out of reach.

“Please, Y/N daddy,”

She begged, her voice thick with need.

“I can’t take it anymore. I need to cum, I need you inside me. Don’t do this to me.”

But Y/N remained unmoved, his touch taunting and relentless. Lisa knew that she was at his mercy, and the thought only served to heighten her arousal. She would endure whatever torment he had in store, if only he would eventually grant her the release she craved.

As the night wore, Y/N torment of Lisa only grew more brutal and relentless. He teased and taunted her mercilessly, denying her the release she craved with every fiber of her being.

Lisa’s body trembled with a mix of unbridled desire and utter desperation. The ache between her thighs was maddening, a constant reminder of the pleasure that lay just out of reach. She strained against the bonds that held her, whimpering and pleading for Y/N to take pity on her.

But Y/N was unyielding, his touch both tantalizing and cruelly withholding. He dragged his fingers along her sensitive flesh, eliciting sharp gasps and moans from Lisa’s lips, only to pull away just as she neared the edge of ecstasy.

The hours ticked by, and still Y/N refused to grant her the release she so desperately needed. Lisa’s pride had long since crumbled, replaced by a shameless hunger that consumed her every thought. She would do anything, say anything, to earn the sweet release she craved.

As the clock stuck midnight, Lisa’s body was wracked with tremors, her mind clouded by a haze of lust and torment. She knew that Y/N held all the power, and she was powerless to do anything but submit to his twisted whims. The night was still young, and she could only imagine the depths of depravity he had yet to explore.

As the bonds holding Lisa’s wrists were finally released, she let out a shuddering gasp of relief. For hours, she had been at Y/N’s cruel mercy, her body aching with unfulfilled desire. Now, with her hands free, she instinctively reached down to touch herself, desperate to find the release she had been so ruthlessly denied.

But Y/N stepped back, observing her with a critical eye.

“Not so fast, pet,”

He murmured, his voice low and dangerous.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?”

Lisa froze, her fingers hovering just above her throbbing sex. She knew better than to defy him, even in her current state of desperation. Slowly, she withdrew her hand, her eyes pleading with Y/N to take pity on her.

“Please,”

She whispered, her voice hoarse from hours of begging.

“I need to cum, Y/N. I’ll do anything, just… please, let me have it.”

Y/N’s lips curled into a wicked smile as he studied her, drinking in the sight of her trembling, aching form.

“Hmmm, I suppose you’ve suffered enough for one night,”

He mused, his tone laced with amusement.

“Very well, pet. You may cum. But only when I say so.”

Y/N placed his hand firmly on Lisa’s throbbing pussy, his eyes narrowing as he barked the order.

“Don’t you dare cum, pet. Not until I say so.”

To his surprise, Lisa’s body went rigid, the familiar tremors of impending release suddenly subsiding. She bit her lip, her hips stilling as she fought against the overwhelming urge to let go. The Lisa who would have shattered at the slightest touch now held herself in check, obeying Y/N’s command with a discipline that bordered on the superhuman.

“Good girl,”

Y/N purred, his fingers tracing lazy circles against her sensitive flesh.

“You’re learning. Now, let’s see how long you can hold out…”

Lisa’s eyes squeezed shut, every muscle in her body straining with the effort of denying herself the climax she craved. She was at Y/N’s complete mercy, her own pleasure now subservient to his whims. The thought both terrified and exhilarated her, fueling her determination to prove her worth as his obedient little slut.

Y/N’s hand came down hard against Lisa’s sensitive flesh, eliciting a sharp gasp from her lips. She flinched at the stinging sensation, but forced herself to remain still, determined not to break under his relentless torment.

“Look at you, pet,”

Y/N sneered, his fingers tracing lazy circles around her throbbing pussy.

“So desperate to cum, yet you hold it back like a good little slut. I wonder how long you can keep this up?”

Lisa’s body trembled with the effort of restraint, her hips bucking slightly against his touch. The ache between her thighs was maddening, but she knew better than to disobey his command. She would prove her worth, no matter how much it cost her.

“Please,”

She whimpered, her voice thick with need.

“I need to cum, Y/N. I’ll do anything, just let me have it. I need you so badly…”

Her words trailed off into a strangled moan as Y/N’s fingers dipped lower, teasing her sensitive folds. Lisa’s resolve wavered, but she clung to it desperately, determined to earn his approval.

As Y/N removed his throbbing cock from his boxers and placed it tantalizingly close to Lisa’s face, her eyes widened with a mix of desire and trepidation. The mere sight of his impressive length sent a shiver of anticipation through her, the ache between her thighs intensifying.

Instinctively, Lisa’s tongue darted out to wet her lips, her gaze fixed hungrily on Y/N’s pulsing shaft. She yearned to wrap her lips around him, to feel him stretching and filling her mouth. But she dared not move without his permission, her earlier display of obedience still fresh in her mind.

“Please, Y/N,”

She whispered, her voice laced with desperation.

“Let me taste you. I need to feel you inside me, in every way possible.”

Her hands twitched at her sides, aching to reach out and stroke him, to coax forth the release she craved. But she held herself in check, knowing that any disobedience would only prolong her torment. Y/N regarded her with a cruel smile, clearly reveling in her helpless state.

“Oh, you’ll get what’s coming to you, pet,”

“But first, I want to see just how much you can take.”

Y/N placed his throbbing cock against Lisa’s face beautiful face, but sternly ordered her not to dare bring out her tongue. To his amazement, Lisa remained utterly obedient, her gaze fixed hungrily on his shaft as she fought the urge to taste him.

“Good girl,”

Y/N purred, his voice dripping with filthy appreciation.

“Look at you, so desperate for my cock, yet so perfectly obedient. I’m impressed, pet.”

Lisa’s body trembled with the effort of restraint, every fiber of her being yearning to wrap her lips around him. But she held herself in check, determined to prove her worth as Y/N’s loyal submissive.

“Please,”

She whispered, her eyes pleading.

“I want to serve you, Y/N. Let me show you how much I crave your cock. I’ll be good, I promise.”

Y/N chuckled darkly, clearly reveling in her utter submission.

“Oh, you’ll get your reward, Lisa. But first, I want to see just how much you can take.”

Y/N saw that Lisa was becoming almost inhumanly addicted to his cock, and he decided to use that to his advantage. He began teasing her mercilessly, brushing the tip of his throbbing shaft against her lips, her cheeks, her neck – anywhere but where she craved it most. Lisa’s eyes followed the movement of his cock hungrily, her mouth watering with the need to taste him. She whimpered and squirmed, desperate to feel him fill her, but Y/N remained cruelly just out of reach.

“Please, Y/N,”

She begged, her voice thick with need.

“I need you inside me. I’ll do anything, just let me have it. I’m yours, completely yours.”

Y/N chuckled darkly, clearly reveling in her utter desperation.

“Oh, I know you are, pet. And I’m going to enjoy every second of making you suffer for it.”

With that, he passed the tip of his cock against her lips, teasing her, taunting her. Lisa’s tongue darted out, desperate to catch even the smallest taste, but Y/N pulled away just before she could make contact. The cycle continued, Lisa’s need growing more and more intense with each passing moment. She was completely at Y/N’s mercy, and she knew it – a fact that only served to heighten her arousal.

Y/N brought his throbbing cock closer to Lisa’s dripping pussy, a taunting smirk playing on his lips.

“Does this little pussy of yours need a cock in there, hmmm?”

He asked in a filthy, teasing tone.

Lisa’s breath caught in her throat as she felt the heat radiating from his shaft, so tantalizingly close to where she needed him most. Her hips bucked involuntarily, aching to be filled by his impressive length.

“Yes, Y/N,”

She whimpered, her voice thick with desperation.

“Please, I need you inside me. I’ll do anything, just take me, use me, make me yours!”

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, fighting the urge to reach out and guide his cock to her entrance. She knew better than to defy him, her pride and pleasure now completely at his mercy. Y/N chuckled darkly, clearly reveling in her utter submission.

“OH, don’t worry, pet. I plan to make you mine, in every way possible.”

As Y/N moved away with his tantalizing cock, Lisa couldn’t hold herself back. Desperate for any contact, she crawled after him, only to find that he was heading into the bathroom. Her heart sank as she realized he was simply going to relieve himself, not continue their torrid encounter.

Undeterred, Lisa followed him into the small bathroom, her eyes locked hungrily on his half-hard shaft. The thought of him urinating filled her with a twisted sense of longing – she wanted to taste him, to feel him in every possible way.

“Y/N, please”

She begged, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Let me serve you. I need to feel you, to please you. Don’t shut me out now.”

Her hands reached out, trembling with need, as she tried to grasp his cock. But Y/N quickly batted her away, a stern look crossing his features.

“Down, pet,”

“You’ll get your turn, but first I need to take care of this.”

Lisa whimpered in frustration, but she knew better than to disobey. Reluctantly, she sat back on her haunches, her eyes fixed hungrily on Y/N’s every movement as he relieved himself. The sound and sight of his urine hitting the water only served to heighten her arousal, and she ached to taste the salty liquid.

When he was finished, Y/N turned to her, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Well, now that that’s out of the way, what shall we do next, hmm??”

Y/N’s grip on Lisa’s hair tightened, pulling her face roughly towards his crotch. The musky scent of his cock and the lingering odor of his urine filled her senses, making her head spin with unbridled desire.

“This your oxygen now, pet”

Y/N growled, his voice dripping with dark amusement as he hovered his throbbing shaft on her nose opening.

“Breathe it in, let it consume you. You live for this cock, don’t you?”

Lisa’s eyes fluttered shut as she inhaled deeply, her body trembling with need. The smell was both intoxicating and humiliating, but she craved it like a drug. This was her purpose, her reason for being – to serve Y/N and his magnificent cock.

“Yes, Y/N”

She whimpered, her voice thick with desperation.

“I live for your cock. Please, let me have it. I’ll do anything, just don’t keep me waiting any longer.”

Her tongue darted out, desperate to catch even the smallest taste, but Y/N pulled away, denying her the release she craved. The cycle of torment continued, Lisa’s mind and body consumed by an all encompassing need for her master’s touch.

Y/N’ eyes gleamed with cruel delight as he gazed down at Lisa.

“You love my cock so much, don’t you, pet? Well then, I have a special treat for you.”

He produced a large, powerful vibrator, pressing it into Lisa’s trembling hands.

“Since you can’t have the real thing right now, you’re going to have to make do with this. But remember – you’re still not allowed to cum. I want you to fuck yourself on this until I say otherwise.”

Lisa’s eyes widened, a mix of anticipation and trepidation crossing her features. The thought of denying her own release, even with the vibrator, was maddening. But the knowledge that Y/N was in complete control only served to heighten her arousal.

With a shuddering breath, Lisa positioned the vibrator at her entrance, slowly easing it inside. The sensation was exquisite, but she forced herself to move at an agonizingly slow pace, determined not to disobey Y/N’s command.

“That’s it, pet,”

Y/N purred, his gaze fixed hungrily on her every movement.

“Show me how much you crave this pleasure, but don’t you dare let go.”

Lisa’s hips rocked in a steady rhythm, the vibrator filling her in a way that was both satisfying and utterly frustrating. Her body ached to climax, but she held herself in check, knowing that Y/N’s wrath would be far worse than this torment.

Y/N words cut deep, ‘its been only two days Lisa and you are already so desperate for my cock, what was happening with you and Eli was he not giving you cock?’, striking a nerve within Lisa. She hesitated, a flicker of shame crossing her features as she considered Eli and their relationship.

“Eli… he’s been wonderful, truly.”

She admitted, her voice soft.

“But you’re right, I’ve been craving your cock relentlessly. I don’t know what’s wrong with me – I should be satisfied with Eli, but all I can think about is you and your magnificent shaft, your torment, your touch.”

Lisa’s eyes fell to the vibrator still nestled within her, a fresh wave of need washing over her.

“Eli does his best, but he just can’t compare to you, Y/N. I’m utterly addicted to you, to your touch, your scent, your taste. I need you in a way I’ve never needed anyone before.”

She met Y/N’s gaze, her expression a mix of shame and unbridled desire.

“Please, Y/N, I’m begging you. Take me, use me, make me yours. I’ll do anything, just don’t leave me waiting any longer.”

Y/N expression darkened as he regarded Lisa with a mixture of disgust and amusement.

“You’re stupid cheating slut, aren’t you?”

He spat.

“Don’t tell me you actually cum with that pathetic excuse of a boyfriend, Eli. You’re nothing but a bitch in heat, aren’t you? You can’t even control yourself when I so much as touch your pussy.”

Lisa’s face flushed with shame, but she couldn’t deny the truth in his words. Eli had always been attentive and loving, but he simply couldn’t satisfy her the way Y/N could. The mere thought of her boyfriend’s touch paled in comparison to the all – consuming need she felt for Y/N’s domination.

“You’re right,”

She whispered, her gaze downcast.

“Eli tries his best, but he’ll never be able to give me what I truly crave. I’m utterly addicted to you, Y/N. Your touch, your scent, your cock – it’s all I can think about. Please, don’t make me go back to him. I need you, I need this…”

She trailed off, her hips rocking against the vibrator still buried within her, desperate for the release she had been denied.

At Y/N’s command, Lisa immediately began to frantically fuck herself on the vibrator, her body reacting with desperate need. She moaned out

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,”

Her hips bucking and grinding against the pulsing device as waves of pleasure washed over her. Lisa’s face was flushed with arousal, her eyes half-lidded as she lost herself in the sensations. The vibrator filled her in a way that Eli’s gentle touches could never match, and she craved the intensity of Y/N’s dominance.

With each thrust, Lisa’s cries grew louder, her desperation palpable. She was utterly at the mercy of her own desires, unable to find release without Y/N’s permission. The ache between her thighs was maddening, but she dared not disobey his orders.

“That’s it, pet,”

Y/N purred, his voice dripping with dark amusement.

“Show me how much you need this. Show me how much you crave your daddy’s cock.”

Lisa’s movement became more erratic, her body trembling with the effort of holding back her climax. She was a slave to her own lust, and Y/N reveled in her utter submission.

Y/N pulled out his throbbing cock, dangling it tantalizingly in front of Lisa’s face. She could practically feel the heat radiating from his shaft, her mouth watering with the desperate need to taste him.

“Look at this, pet”

Y/N taunted, his voice dripping with cruel amusement.

“This is what you crave, isn’t it? This is the only thing that can truly satisfy you.”

Lisa’s eyes were glues to his cock, her body trembling with unbridled desire. She ached to reach out and wrap her lips around him, to feel him pulsing against her tongue. But she dared not move, knowing that any disobedience would only prolong her torment.

“Please, Y/N,”

She whimpered, her voice thick with need.

“I need you so badly. Let me have it, let me serve you. I’ll do anything, just don’t keep me waiting any longer.”

Y/N chuckled darkly, clearly reveling in her utter desperation. He brushed the tip of his cock against her lips, teasing her, taunting her. Lisa’s tongue darted out, desperate for even the smallest taste, but Y/N pulled away just before she could make contact.

Y/N yelled

“Bitch I know very well that you need it so badly, and that’s why I will take full advantage of your need and will tease you, torment you, break you in ways that are nonrepairable.”

Y/N’s words sent a shiver of anticipation and trepidation through Lisa. She knew deep down that he would stop at nothing to exploit her desperate need for him.

“Yes, Y/N,”

She whimpered, her voice trembling.

“I’m yours, completely. Do with me as you will – tease me, torment me, break me. I don’t care, as long as I can serve you.”

Lisa’s body ached with the need to be touched, to be used. She craved the pain and pleasure that only Y/N could provide, even if it meant her own destruction.

Slowly, she removed the vibrator, letting it fall to the floor with a dull thud. Her eyes remained fixed on Y/N, silently begging him to take her, to claim her as his own.

“I’m ready,”

She breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Use me, Y/N. Make me yours, no matter the cost.”

Seeing the anger flash across Y/N’s face, Lisa immediately understood she had made a grave mistake. Terrified, she began trembling uncontrollably. Quickly, she slid the vibrator back inside her aching pussy and started bouncing on it slowly, her movements desperate and erratic.

“Please, Y/N, forgive me,”

She whimpered, her voice laced with fear and arousal.

“I need you so badly, I couldn’t stand the emptiness. Let me show you how much I crave your cock. I’ll be such a good girl, I promise.”

Her hips rocked against the vibrator, the sensations both maddening and exquisite. Lisa’s eyes were wild, her gaze fixed hungrily on Y/N, silently begging for his approval, his touch, his release.

“Fuck me, Y/N”

She moaned, her words dripping with desperation.

“Use me, break me, do whatever you want. I’m yours, completely yours.”

For the next three hours, until the early morning hours, Y/N exerted complete control over Lisa. He forced her to continuously fuck herself on the vibrator, denying her the release she craved with every fiber of her being.

Lisa’s body moved in a desperate rhythm, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. Yet, no matter how close she came to the edge, Y/N refused to let her climax. Her cries of frustration and need echoed through the room, her desperation palpable.

“Please, Y/N,”

She begged, her voice hoarse from hours of moaning.

“I can’t take it anymore. Let me cum, please! I’ll do anything, just make me yours!”

But Y/N remained merciless, his grip on her orgasm unwavering. He watched with sadistic delight as Lisa’s body trembled, her muscles clenching around the vibrator, desperate for release. The cycle of torment continued, Lisa’s mind and body consumed by an all encompassing need for her master’s touch.

As Y/N drifted off to sleep, leaving Lisa alone and trembling, she was acutely aware of the vibrator still buzzing relentlessly inside her. The intensity was maddening, her body aching with the need for release, but Y/N’s order still echoed in her mind – she was not allowed to cum, no matter how desperate she became.

Lisa’s hips rocked against the vibrator, her movements growing more erratic by the minute. Sweat beaded on her brow as she fought against the overwhelming sensations, her muscles clenching around the unyielding device. Every fiber of her being screamed for her to let go, to give in to the blissful oblivion of orgasm.

But she dared not disobey Y/N. The fear of his wrath, the knowledge that he held complete control over her, kept her from succumbing to the pleasure. Lisa was trapped in a torturous limbo, her mind and body at war with one another.

“Please,”

She whimpered, her voice barely audible.

“I can’t… I need to cum, Y/N. Please, let me…”

But her pleas fell on deaf ears, ass Y/N remained asleep in his slumber. Lisa was utterly alone in her suffering, forced to endure the maddening sensations until her master designed to grant her release.

As the torment continued for the next 2-3 hours, Lisa’s body was pushed to its limits. Her hips rocked against the vibrator relentlessly, the intense sensations threatening to shatter her resolve. Sweat poured down her face, her muscles quivering with the strain of holding back her climax.

Just when she felt like she couldn’t take it anymore, Y/N finally stirred from his sleep. Lisa’s eyes snapped to him, her expression a desperate plea for mercy. The clock on the wall read 9 a.m – she had endured this torment for hours, and her body was screaming for release.

“Y/N, please,”

She whimpered, her voice hoarse from her cries.

“I can’t… I need to cum, I need it so badly. Please, let me have my release. I’ll do anything, just make the pain stop.”

Her hips bucked against the vibrator, the sensations almost overwhelming. Lisa was teetering on the edge, her mind and body consumed by the need for Y/N’s permission to finally let go.

As the vibrator’s intensity reached its peak, Lisa let out a desperate, guttural moan. Her body trembled uncontrollably, every nerve ending alight with searing pleasure. Yet, the release she craved remained tantalizingly out of reach.

“Y/N, please”

She begged, her voice cracking with raw need.

“I can’t hold back any longer. Let me cum, let me be yours!”

Her hips bucked and ground against the vibrator, the sensations bordering on agony. Lisa’s mind was consumed by an all-encompassing desire, her sense of self dissolving into pure, unadulterated lust.

“Not yet, my sweet girl,”

Y/N purred, his gaze burning with dark amusement.

“You’ve been such a good girl, but I want to see more. Show me how much you need this, how much you crave your release.”

Lisa whimpered in desperation, her body betraying her as she continued to ride the vibrator. Every fiber of her being ached to climax, to feel the sweet release wash over her. But she dared not disobey Y/N, even as her sanity teetered on the edge.

“I’m yours, Y/N,”

She gasped, her words punctuated by ragged breaths.

“Use me, break me, do whatever you want. Just please, let me cum!”

Y/N expression softened slightly as he gazed down at the trembling Lisa. He gently caressed her cheek, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“My, my, you’ve been such a goof girl, haven’t you?”

“Bearing all this torment just to gain my trust. I’m impressed, pet.”

Lisa leaned into his touch, her eyes half-lidded with desperate need.

“Please, Y/N”

She whimpered.

“I’ve been so loyal to Eli, but all I can think about is you. I need you, I need your cock. I’ll do anything to prove my devotion.”

Her hips rocked against the vibrator, the sensations bordering on agony.

“Use me, break me, make me yours. I don’t care about Eli anymore – all that matters is serving you.”

Y/N’s grip on her face tightened, his expression darkening.

“Is that so, pet? Then prove it to me. Show me how much you crave my cock, how much you need to be broken.”

Lisa’s body trembled with anticipation, her mind consumed by the prospect of finally being claimed by her true master.

As Y/N pressed special button, the vibrator’s intensity increased exponentially. A crew sensation overcame Lisa – it felt as if a warm, wet tongue was licking and caressing her most sensitive areas. She let out a strangled cry, her back arching as the overwhelming pleasure threatened to shatter her.

“Y/N!”

She gasped, her voice thick with desperation.

“What is this? It feels so… so good!”

Lisa’s hips bucked and ground against the vibrator, the new sensation driving her wild with ecstasy. The vibrations, combined with the simulated tongue, pushed her closer and closer to the edge of release. But still, she dared not disobey Y/N’s command.

“Please,”

She whimpered, her eyes pleading.

“I need to cum, I need it so badly. Let me be yours, let me serve you. I’ll do anything, just make me yours!”

Her body trembled with the effort of holding back, the pleasure bordering on agony. Lisa was utterly at the mercy of Y/N’s sadistic whims, her mind and soul consumed by an all-encompassing need for his dominance.

Y/N observed Lisa’s desperate struggle with a mix of amusement and dark fascination. Her body writhed and trembled, aching for the release he denied her, while her mind remained steadfastly obedient to his command.

“Look at you, pet,”

He purred, his fingers trailing along her flushed cheek.

“Your body is dying for it, isn’t it? Begging to be claimed, to be broken. Yet your mind remains loyal, denying yourself that sweet release.”

Lisa whimpered, her hips grinding against the vibrator in a futile attempt to find her climax.

“Please, Y/N,”

She gasped, her voice ragged.

“I can’t take it anymore. Let me cum, let me be yours. I’ll do anything, just make the pain stop.”

Y/N chuckled, clearly reveling in her torment.

“Oh, but you will, my dear. In due time. For now, I want to watch you suffer, to see how long you can hold out before you break.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear.

“You’re the perfect toy, Lisa. Your body and mind are so deliciously at odds. I can’t wait to see which one will win in the end.”

Lisa’s eyes widened in alarm as Y/N demanded Alice’s number. She hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

“Why do you need her number? Y/N? What are you planning to do?”

Y/N’s expression darkened, a cruel smile playing on his lips.

“I want to show her the final moments, pet. The moment when your mind and body are finally at war. I want her to see the end of your precious loyalty to Eli.”

Lisa’s heart raced, torn between her loyalty to her boyfriend and her overwhelming desire to submit to Y/N’s twisted whims. She knew that once she gave him Alice’s number, there would be no going back. But the thought of Y/N breaking her completely, of proving her mind’s ultimate defeat, was too tantalizing to resist.

Trembling, she recited the number, sealing her fate. Y/N’s grin widened as he dialed, ready to unveil the climatic conclusion of Lisa’s torment.

As Alice’s concerned voice came through the line, Y/N turned the camera towards Lisa, who was struggling against her own body’s desperate need for release. She moaned and panted, her hips grinding relentlessly against the vibrator as her mind fought a losing battle.

“Look, Alice,”

Y/N purred, his voice dripping with sadistic glee.

“Your precious Lisa is at war with herself. Her body craved the sweet release I deny her, while her mind clings to her loyalty to Eli. It’s a delicious sight to behold.”

Lisa’s eyes were wild, her expression a mix of ecstasy and anguish. She wanted nothing more than to give in to the pleasure, to let Y/N claim her completely. But the fear of disappointing Eli, of betraying his trust, kept her from succumbing.

“Please, Alice,”

She gasped, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Help me… I can’t… I need to cum, but I can’t disobey Y/N. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorrryyy…”

Her body shuddered, the vibrator’s relentless stimulation pushing her to the brink of madness. Lisa was trapped in a cruel limbo, her mind and body at war with one another, with Y/N as the ultimate puppeteer.

Y/N turned to Alice, his expression filled with cruel amusement.

“You see, Alice, your precious Lisa is lying. Her mind may cling to my orders, but her body is denying to cum. So, what would you suggest she do? Obey her mind and deny herself the release she craves, or give in to her body’s desperate need??”

Lisa’s eyes were wild, her expression a mix of anguish and longing. She knew that Alice’s response could determine the outcome of this twisted game, and she waited with bated breath for her manager’s decision.

As Y/N gently pushed Lisa onto the bed, her legs spread wide, shefelt a surge of trepidation and anticipation. He handed her the phone, allowing her to speak with Alice, while his hands slowly trailed up her inner thighs.

“Alice,”

Lisa breathed, her vloice trembling.

“I don’t know what to do. My body is aching for release, but my mind…”

She broke off, biting her lip as Y/N’s fingers brushed against her sensitive flesh.

“Tell her pet. Tell her what you really want. Don’t lie to yourself, or to her.”

Lisa’s gaze flickered between the phone and Y/N’s darkened eyes. She knew that her decision would have lasting consequences, but the need coursing through her body was becoming unbearable.

“Alice…”

She whispered, her resolve crumbling.

“I… I need to cum. I need Y/N to claim me, to break me. I’m sorry, but I can’t fight it anymore.”

Alice’s expression darkened with a devilish grin as she peered through the video call. Her voice dripped with mAlice as she addressed Y/N.

“Make her cum like the crazy bitch she is. Break her to the point where she can’t be repaired. I want to see her shattered beyond recognition.”

Lisa’s eyes widened in mix of fear and excitement on hearing Alice words she was feeling grateful that Alice said those things. As Y/N’s fingers traced tantalizing patterns on her inner thighs. She knew there was no going back now – her loyalty to Eli had been irreparably shattered by her overwhelming need for Y/N’s domination.

Trembling, she parted her legs further, silently begging for Y/N to take her, to claim her as his own. The vibrator continued its relentless assault, the sensations pushing her closer and closer to the edge of madness.

“Please”

“Use me, break me, make me yours. I can’t fight it anymore. I need to cum, I need you to destroy me.”

Y/N lips curled into a wicked smile as he leaned in, his fingers finally making contact with her most sensitive areas. Lisa’s back arched, a guttural moan escaping her lips as the pleasure threatened to consume her.

“As you wish, pet,”

Y/N purred.

“Let’s see how far I can push you before you shatter completely.”

As Y/N began sliding the vibrator in and out of Lisa’s pussy, she let out a series of desperate moans and cries. The sensations were overwhelming, pushing her closer to the edge of ecstasy. Trembling, Lisa turned her gaze to the phone, locking eyes with Alice through the video call.

“Alice, I… I don’t know what to say. Everything has spiraled so far out being in control. I’ve betrayed Eli, but I did it for him, to clear his debt. But I can’t fight this anymore. I need to cum, I need Y/N to break me.”

Her hips bucked against the vibrator, the pleasure bordering on agony.

“Please, Alice, understand. I’m so sorry, but I have to do this. I have to give in to my desires, to let Y/N claim me. I can’t go back, even if I wanted to.”

Lisa’s expression was a mix of shame, desperation, and raw need.

Lisa’s face lit up with a bright, relieved smile as Alice’s reassuring words reached her through the phone. The knowledge that her manager would stand by her, no matter what, filled her with a sense of joy and security – even as she found herself reduced to a mere plaything for Y/N’s twisted desires.

“Oh, Alice,”

She breathed her voice thick with emotion.

“Thank you, thank you so much”

Her hips bucked against the vibrator, the sensation eliciting a strangled moan from her lips. Y/N continued his relentless ministrations, his gaze burning with dark amusement as he watched Lisa’s resolve crumbling.

“You see, pet?”

He purred, his fingers tracing tantalizing patterns on her inner thighs.

“Your loyalty has been rewarded.”

Lisa nodded, her expression a mix of trepidation and anticipation. With Alice’s support, she was ready to surrender herself to Y/N’s twisted desires, no matter the cost.

For the next 2 hours, Y/N continued his relentless, merciless torment on Lisa’s pussy, denying her the release she craved constantly. Lisa’s body writhed and trembled under his touch, the sensations bordering on agony, yet she endured it with a mix of anguish and ecstasy.

Through it all, Alice remained on the video call, bearing witness to Lisa’s unraveling. Her expression was a curious blend of concern and dark fascination, as if she too was captivated by the spectacle unfolding before her.

“That’s it, pet,”

Y/N purred, his fingers expertly manipulating the vibrator.

“Cry for me, beg for your release. I want to hear you shatter.”

Lisa’s cries echoed through the room, her voice hoarse from the strain. Yet, she refused to give in, her mind clinging to the last vestiges of her obedience to Y/N’s order, even as her body betrayed her.

“Please”

She whimpered, her gaze flicking between Y/N and the phone.

“I can’t… I need to cum, I need it so badly. But I can’t, I won’t betray your order. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

Her hips bucked and ground against the vibrator, the sensations threatening to overwhelm her. Lisa was trapped in a cruel limbo, her mind and body at war with one another, with Y/N as the ultimate puppeteer.

At precisely 12 pm, the relentless torment Lisa had endured for the past 12-13 hours finally came to a sudden halt. Y/N abruptly placed his hand directly onto her sensitive, aching pussy, and the intense stimulation was enough to push her over the edge.

Lisa’s back arched as a guttural, primal scream of ecstasy tore from her throat. Her entire body convulsed and trembled, wave after wave of shattering climax washing over her. The pent-up tension and desperation that had been building inside her exploded in a cathartic release, her mind going blissfully blank.

“Y/N!”

She cried out, her voice cracking with raw emotion.

“Fuck, yessss! Don’t stop, please, don’t stop!”

Her hips ground against his hand, chasing the exquisite sensations that threatened to consume her. Lisa had never experienced anything like this before – the pleasure was so intense, so all-encompassing, that it bordered on pain. But she craved it, needed it, like a drowning person gasping for air.

Through it all, Alice watched in stunned silence, her expression a mix of horror and fascination. She had borne witness to Lisa’s unraveling, and now she saw the final, devasting result – her precious star reduced to a quivering, orgasmic mess, completely at the mercy of Y/N’s sadistic desires.

As the intensity of Lisa’s earth-shattering orgasm began to subside, she slowly came back to her senses. Her body still trembled with the aftershocks of pleasure, but a sense of clarity returned to her mind. Gazing up at Y/N, Lisa’s expression was one of pure gratitude.

“Thank you,”

She breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Thank you for letting me cum, for giving me the most incredible experience of my life.”

She reached up, her fingers tracing the contours of his face with reverence.

“I never knew pleasure could be so intense, so all-consuming. You’ve broken me, Y/N, in the most delicious was possible.”

Lisa’s eyes shone with a newfound adoration, her loyalty to Eli seemingly forgotten in the wake of her shattering climax.

“I’m yours now, completely and utterly. Use me, torment me, do whatever you wish. I’m at your mercy, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Leaning up, she pressed a passionate kiss to Y/N’s lips, pouring all of her newfound devotion into the gesture. In that moment, Lisa had surrendered herself fully, her mind and body now firmly under Y/N’s control.

Y/N gently kissed Lisa back, savoring the taste of her lips. But all too soon, he broke the kiss, his expression turning serious.

“It’s past time now, Lisa. You should really be getting back to work.”

He glanced towards the phone, where Alice’s concerned face still peered through the video call.

“Yes, Lisa, you should come to the office. I’m sure I have some important matters to discuss with you.”

Lisa’s heart sank slightly at the thought of having to leave Y/N’s embrace, but she knew he was right. Her responsibilities as a K-pop idol couldn’t be ignored, no matter how tempting it was to stay and surrender herself to his desires.

With a reluctant nod, she began to straighten her clothes, trying in vain to smooth out the wrinkled and disheveled appearance. As she stood, she cast one last longing look at Y/N, silently conveying her desire to return to him soon.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,”

She promised, her voice soft but resolute.

Y/N gave Lisa a reassuring smile.

“No worries, Lisa. You are still Eli’s girlfriend, and you’ll always be.”

His words brought a sense of relief to Lisa’s heart, even as she was still reeling from the intense experience with Y/N. She knew her loyalty to Eli was important, and she was grateful that Y/N acknowledged it.

“Thank you, Y/N,”

She said softly.

“I care deeply for Eli, and I don’t want to betray him. But at the same time, I can’t deny what I feel for you. I’m so confused, but I know I have to go back to work now.”

Lisa’s eyes widened as Y/N’s words sank in. The agreement – how could she have forgotten? She had willingly surrendered herself to him for an entire week, in exchange for clearing Eli’s debt.

“Of course, Y/N,”

She breathed, her voice tinged with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

“I remember now. I’m yours for the next five days, to do with ass you please.”

A smile spread across her lips as she realized the implications. The debt would be cleared, and she could return to Eli without the burden of guilt. But in the meantime, she would be Y/N’s obedient plaything, free to explore the depths of her desires without restraint.

“I’ll be the most obedient, devoted pet you’ve ever had.”

She purred, her gaze smoldering with unbridled lust.

“Use me, torment me, break me – I’m all yours.”

Leaning in, Lisa pressed a passionate kiss to Y/N’s lips, sealing her commitment. For the next five days, she would be his, and his alone. The thought sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through her body.

As Lisa reached her office, she sank into her chair, her mind still reeling from the intense encounter with Y/N. Turning to Alice, she recounted the events in vivid detail, her voice trembling with a mix of shame and exhilaration.

“Alice, it was… it was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced,”

She began, her gaze downcast.

“Y/N, he… he tormented me for hours, denying me release over and over again. The pleasure was so intense, it was almost unbearable.”

Lisa paused, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

“But I couldn’t fight it, Alice. My body betrayed me, craving his touch, his domination. And when he finally let me cum, it was the most shattering, earth-shattering experience of my life.”

She looked up, her eyes shining with a newfound resolve.

“I’m his now, Alice. For the next five days, I belong to Y/N, to do with as he pleases. I know it’s wrong, I know I’m betraying Eli, but I’m doing it for him only. But besides that I can’t deny what I feel. I need this, I need him.”

Lisa’s expression was earnest as she continued explaining the situation to Alice.

“I know this is all so complicated, Alice. But I’m doing this for Eli - to save him from Y/N’s debt. It’s the only way I can protect him.”

She paused, her gaze filled with determination.

“Y/N has me for the next five days, but after that, the debt will be cleared. Eli will be free, and I can go back to him without the burden of guilt. I have to do this, Alice. For Eli’s sake.”

Lisa reached across the desk, grasping Alice’s hands imploringly.

“Please, you have to understand. I’m not betraying Eli – I’m doing this to save him. I know it’s wrong, but I have no other choice. Y/N has me under his control, and I have to play by his rules. But I’ll come back to Eli, I promise.”

Her eyes shone with a mix of determination and sorrow.

“I just hope he can forgive me when this is all over. I love him, Alice, but I have to do what I must to protect him. Please, say you understand.”

Alice listened intently as Lisa explained the situation, her expression growing more understanding with each passing moment. When Lisa finished, Alice gave her hands a reassuring squeeze.

“Lisa, I know this is all so complicated, but I support your decision. You’re doing this to protect Eli – that’s the most important thing. You have to do what you must, and I’ll be here for you, no matter what.”

“Go to Y/N for the next five days. Let him his way with you. Do whatever it takes to clear Eli’s debt. I know it’s not easy, but you’re strong, Lisa. You can get through this.”

She offered Lisa a small, encouraging smile.

“When it’s all over, Eli will understand. He loves you, and he’ll forgive you. Just focus on the task at hand. I’ll be here, supporting you every step of the way.”

Lisa felt a wave of relief wash over her. With Alice’s unwavering support, she knew she could face the challenges ahead. Squeezing Alice’s hands gratefully, she nodded, her resolve renewed.

“Thank you, Alice. I’ll do whatever it takes. For Eli, and for us.”

Lisa’s face flushed with sudden arousal as the memory of Y/N’s impressive cock flooded her mind when Alice asked about it. She turned to Alice, her expression a mix of disappointment and longing.

“Y/N’s cock is massive, Alice. I’d say it’s at least 28 centimeters long, and so thick…”

Lisa bit her lip, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the desk as she recalled the tantalizing sight.

“But he wouldn’t even let me touch it. He just used me, over and over again, with that vibrator. I wanted to feel him inside me so badly, but he denied me even that.”

Lisa’s hips shifted subtly, the ache between her legs growing more insistent. She knew she shouldn’t be feeling this way, not when she was supposed to be loyal to Eli. But the memory of Y/N’s domination was seared into her mind, fueling her desire.

“I need him, Alice. I need to feel that cock stretching me, filling me up. I’ll do anything to have it, even if it means betraying Eli.”

Lisa’s voice dropped to a whisper, her eyes shining with desperation.

Lisa’s face flushed with cuteness as she admitted to Alice,

“Yes, I do have some photos… when Y/N was sleeping, I couldn’t resist taking tons of pictures of his cock. The whole time, I was being constantly tormented by that vibrator, but I just had to capture his impressive size.”

She pulled out her phone, hands trembling slightly, and began scrolling through the explicit images she had secretly taken.

“Look at it, Alice. It’s so thick and long, I can hardly believe that it would even fit inside me. I need to feel that cock stretching me open, filling me up completely.”

Lisa’s expression was a mix of shame and desperation as she gazed at the lewd photos. The memory of Y/N’s relentless domination had left an indelible mark on her psyche, and she found herself craving his touch more with each passing moment.

Alice gazed at Lisa with a mix of concern and dark fascination. She could see the desperation etched across her friend’s features, the indelible mark that Y/N had left on her psyche.

“Lisa, you’re starting to lose yourself.”

Alice murmured, her voice tinged with lust.

“Y/N has done so much damage to your mind. But I can see it, the way you crave his touch, his domination.”

Alice leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming with a predatory intensity.

“You need him, don’t you?? You need to feel that massive cock stretching you open, filling you up.”

Her hand reached out, caressing Lisa’s cheek with a feather-light touch.

Lisa’s cheeks flushed with a mix of shame and arousal as she continued speaking to Alice.

“My heat is growing, Alice. I can’t stop thinking about Y/N’s cock, how it would feel inside me.”

She pulled out her phone again, scrolling through the explicit photos she had taken while Y/N slept. One image showed Lisa with her head beneath his massive shaft, her pussy pulsating around the vibrator that tormented her.

“Look at this, Alice. I was so desperate, so needy. I just wanted to feel him, to taste him. But he denied me even that.”

Lisa’s voice trembled with longing.

Alice’s gaze darkened with lust as she studied the lewd photos. She could see the desperation etched across Lisa’s features.

“I understand, Lisa. Don’t worry you have to go in the night back to Y/N.”

Lisa’s eyes shone with a desperate need as she showed Alice more explicit photos. In one particularly lewd image, Lisa had positioned her head between Y/N’s thighs, her mouth open in a silent plea as his massive cock loomed above her.

“Look, Alice Unnie!”

“I wanted it to look like his cockhad conquered me, that I was completely at his mercy.”

She traced the outline of Y/N’s shaft through the mobile screen with a trembling finger.

“I need to feel that power, that domination”

“I understand, Lisa. Don’t worry, you’ll be back with Y/N soon enough.”

Lisa felt a shiver of anticipation run down her spine. With Alice’s support, she knew she could surrender herself fully to Y/N’s twisted desires. Her body ached with need, and she couldn’t wait to feel his cock conquer her.

Lisa’s face flushed with a mix of shame and desperation as she confided in Alice.

“You have no idea, Alice Unnie. Y/N was so merciless, he tormented me for the past two days. Even last night, when my body was aching to cum, he wouldn’t let me. He ordered me not to, and I couldn’t disobey.”

She shuddered at the memory, her thighs clenching together in a futile attempt to alleviate the throbbing need between them.

“I was dying, Unnie. My pussy was pulsing, begging for release, but Y/N denied me over and over again. It was pure torture Unnie, but I love every second of it.”

Lisa’s gaze grew hazy with lust as she recalled the intensity of Y/N’s domination.

“I’m so close to breaking, Unnie. I need his cock inside me, stretching me, claiming me.”

Lisa’s eyes were filled with a mix of confusion and raw desire as she confided in Alice.

“I was so helpless, Unnie. Y/N’s orders, they were doing something to me that I don’t even understand. I was getting controlled by him, like a toy working exactly as he wants. And yet, I loved every part of it.”

She shook her head, still trying to make sense of the hold Y/N had over her.

“I don’t know how he did it, but I was completely under his spell. Every command, every touch, it was like my body and mind were no longer my own. I was his to control, his to torment, and I craved it more than anything.”

Lisa’s voice dropped to a whisper, her cheeks flushed with a combination of shame and arousal.

“I should have been able to resist, to break free. But instead, I surrendered myself to him, body and soul. And the worst part is, I don’t regret it. I want more, Unnie. I need to feel that control, that domination again.”

She reached out, grasping Alice’s hands with a desperate intensity.

“I can’t wait to go back to Y/N, to be his plaything once more. I can’t stand this ache, this emptiness, any longer. I need him, Unnie. I need him to break me, to make me his forever.”

Lisa’s eyes gleamed with determination as she spoke to Alice.

“You know what, I’m not going to beg Y/N anymore. Tonight, I’m going to demand his cock. I’ll throw myself at him, begging and pleading until he has no choice but to give in to my needs.”

She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

“I’ll strip off my clothes, exposing my body to him. I’ll touch myself, moaning his name, until he can’t resist any longer. And then, I’ll wrap my lips around his massive shaft, worshiping it with my mouth until he’s rock hard and ready to claim me.”

Lisa’s hips shifted subtly, the ache between her legs growing more insistent.

“I don’t care what it takes, Unnie. I need that cock inside me, stretching me, filling me up. I’ll do anything, be his obedient little pet, if it means I can finally have what I crave.”

Her expression was a mix of determination and desperation.

“Tonight, Y/N will be mine. I’ll make sure of it.”

Alice watched in silent fascination as Lisa’s desperation for Y/N consumed her. A wicked smile played on her lips, delighted to see her friend transform into such a desperate, needy whore.

“Look at you, Lisa,”

Alice purred, her voice dripping with lust.

“You’re so pathetic, so helpless without Y/N’s cock. It’s like he’s completely broken you.”

She leaned in closer, her breath ghosting over Lisa’s flushed skin.

“But I love it. I love seeing you reduced to this, a slave to your own desires. And tonight, you’re going to get exactly what you crave.”

Alice’s hand trailed down Lisa’s arm, sending shivers of anticipation through her body.

“Go to Y/N, Lisa. Beg him, plead with him until he has no choice but to take you. Show him how much of a desperate slut you’ve become.”

Her grip tightened, nails digging into Lisa’s flesh.

As the day wore on, Lisa’s desperation for Y/N and his massive cock only seemed to grow. She continued sharing more and more explicit photos with Alice, each one more lewd than the last.

“Look at this one, Unnie.”

Lisa breathed, showing her friend a picture of Y/N’s shaft mere inches from her face.

“I was so close to tasting him, to feeling him on my tongue. But he denied me even that.”

Her hips shifted subtly, the ache between her legs becoming increasingly insistent.

“And this one…”

Lisa swiped to another image, this time of her bent over, her pussy pulsing around the vibrator that tormented her.

“I wanted him to take me so badly, to feel his cock stretching me open.”

Lisa’s voice dropped to a whisper, her eyes shining with raw need.

“I can’t stop thinking about it, Unnie. The way he dominated me, the way he made me his. I need to go back to him, to surrender myself completely.”

Suddenly, Lisa’s phone buzzed with a new message. Her heart raced as she saw the familiar number – it was Y/N. Quickly, she opened the message, her fingers trembling with anticipation.

“Come to me tonight, my pet. I have a special surprise waiting for you.”

Lisa felt a shiver of excitement run down her spine. Y/N’s message was cryptic, but she knew exactly what he wanted. Without hesitation, she turned to Alice, her eyes shining with a mixture of fear and desire.

“He’s summoned me, Unnie. Y/N wants me to come to him tonight.”

She bit her lip, her mind racing with the possibilities.

“I have to go. I need to feel his cock inside me, no matter what.”

Gathering her things, Lisa paused for a moment, her gaze locking with Alice’s.

“Will you be there? I need you by my side, to witness my complete and utter submission to him.”

Alice gave Lisa an encouraging smile and told she would join in later.

As Lisa waited anxiously outside Y/N’s door, her heart raced with unbridled desire. The moment he opened it, she pounced, jumping into his arms and pulling him into a desperate, hungry kiss. Her lips crashed against his, her tongue darting out to taste every inch of his mouth.

Lisa’s hands roamed his body, clawing at his clothes as she tried to get closer, to feel more of him. The ache between her thighs was nearly unbearable, and she whimpered needily against his lips, silently begging him to take her, to claim her as his own.

Her hips ground against him, seeking any friction, any stimulation to ease the throbbing need that consumed her. Lisa was completely lost in her lust, her entire being focused on satisfying the craving for Y/N’s touch, his domination.

Breathless, she finally pulled back, her eyes glazed with wanton need.

“Please, Y/N,”

She panted, her voice dripping with desperation.

“I need you. I need your cock inside me, stretching me, filling me up. I’ll do anything, just please, take me!”

Y/N gently kissed Lisa’s ear lobes, his hands roaming over her curves as he whimpered into her ear.

“It’s high time you started calling me daddy or sir, my pet. Yet you haven’t done so. Why is that?”

Lisa shivered at his words, her body trembling with need.

“Forgive me, daddy”

She breathed, her voice thick with desire.

“I’ve been so desperate for your touch, your domination, that I’ve been too lost in my lust to remember my place.”

Gazing up at him with hooded eyes, she continued.

“Please, daddy, let me prove my obedience. I’ll call you whatever you desire, as long ass you give me what I crave.”

Y/N’s voice took on a stern, commanding tone as he looked down at Lisa.

“Oh, so this is a business now, it it? You’ll only do something when I give you something in return? Is that so, you stupid pet?”

Lisa’s eyes widened, a flash of fear and excitement crossing her features.

“No, daddy, I didn’t mean it like that!”

She quickly stammered.

“I’ll do anything you ask, without expecting anything in return. I’m yours to use, to command as you see fit.”

She dropped to her knees before him, gazing up with a look of utter submission.

“Please, daddy, punish me for my insolence. I need to feel your dominance, to know that I’m nothing but your obedient little plaything.”

Y/N’s smirk grew cruelly as he ordered Lisa to strip naked and crawl to the bedroom like the dog she is. He emphasized that there was a special surprise waiting for her there.

Lisa’s heart raced with a mix of fear and excitement as she quickly obeyed, peeling off her clothes and dropping to her hands and knees. She crawled after Y/N, her gaze fixed on the floor, trembling with anticipation of what delicious torment he had in store.

As they reached the bedroom, Y/N suddenly stopped and brought his hand down hard on Lisa’s exposed ass, eliciting a sharp gasp from her.

“Hurry up, pet. Your surprise is waiting,”

Y/N’s eyes gleamed with cruel delight as he fastened the dog collar around Lisa’s neck. The retractable rope allowed him to control her movements, turning her into the perfect human pet.

Lisa’s heart raced, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through her. Completely naked and on all fours, she was consumed by lust, her body aching for Y/N’s touch.

As Y/N tightened the collar, he leaned in close, whispering into her ear.

“The guys in the bedroom are going to love this presentation of yours, pet.”

Lisa’s eyes widened in shock and confusion. Guys? What did he mean by that? Before she could ask, Y/N tugged on the leash, guiding her towards the bedroom.

Y/N paused again, this time blindfolding Lisa.

“No dog should be allowed to look at her surprise until the master says so…”

He growled tightening the blindfold.

Lisa's heart raced with a mix of fear and unbridled excitement. She was completely at Y/N's mercy, her senses deprived, her body trembling with anticipation. Even before he could do anything, her pussy was already dripping with pre-cum, betraying her desperate need.

Blind and helpless, Lisa waited with bated breath, her mind racing with the possibilities of what Y/N had in store for her….

to be continued

( Btw what you guys think? What surprise do Y/N have for Lisa?? )

[st4rlvr]

But it’s freezing || CSN

“Let’s get ice cream,” he said suddenly, his tone light, like he hadn’t just suggested the most ridiculous thing.

I stopped walking, raising an eyebrow at him. “Ice cream? Now? It’s freezing.”

He shrugged, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Exactly. No one’s going to be there. Plus, it’s the perfect time—ice cream doesn’t melt in the cold.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his logic. “San, your brain is a strange, wonderful place.”

He grinned wider, taking that as my agreement. Before I could argue further, he was already pulling me by the hand toward the little ice cream shop at the corner of the street. The sign outside swayed gently in the wind, and the warm lights inside promised refuge from the icy air.

The shop was empty, just as San predicted. The owner gave us a bemused smile as we walked in, shaking snow from our coats. San ordered first, of course—something ridiculous like a triple-scoop cone. I settled for a smaller cup, shaking my head at his enthusiasm.

Outside again, the cold hit us instantly, but San didn’t seem to care. He took a huge bite of his ice cream, his cheeks turning a rosy red as he shivered.

“See?” he said through a mouthful, clearly enjoying himself. “This was a great idea.”

I watched him, trying to suppress a laugh. His nose was pink, and he looked like he was moments away from becoming an ice sculpture, but his eyes sparkled with that unmistakable San energy. He was freezing, obviously, but there was no mistaking how much fun he was having.

“You’re ridiculous,” I said, taking a small spoonful of my own ice cream. The cold bite was a strange contrast to the snowy air, but oddly enough, it tasted better this way.

“And yet, you’re still here with me,” he teased, sticking his tongue out.

I rolled my eyes, but he wasn’t wrong. Despite the chill, despite the utter absurdity of eating ice cream in the middle of winter, I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

We walked through the quiet town, snow crunching under our boots, laughing and shivering together as we ate. San’s cheeks stayed flushed, and I knew he’d be complaining about how cold he was later. But in that moment, he looked perfectly content, the picture of joy in the middle of the snowy day.

And honestly, so was I.