#cause the time will pass anyways or whatever they say

[thistransient]

While I was away, my friend who's down south for a month left his fan for me to borrow. Previously I had either been using my aircon extremely sparingly (only when over 30C at night) or laying on the floor sweating like god intended. The fan's arrival, however, immediately initiated an unprecedented new era of slothfulness. Where at least before there was some motive to go in search of cooler climes (the library, the park at night), now it was entirely realistic to hang out at home, sprawled in front of the device forever. The evils of technology made manifest!

Or so I thought. After a week of this, my paranoia over the one (1) query from the immigration officer was festering, and I was growing cognisant of the fact that I didn't actually want to live out my days in a tiny dark apartment, prostrated at the altar of the artificial breeze. (Or it could also be that I simply don't want to spend the rest of my life in a subtropical heat wave...) I was getting real moody about my prospects, or lack thereof. Today I decided to finally have a go at actually finishing the preliminary test for an editing company whose listing I've come across a couple times (and usually quit halfway through because imagining reading this sort of stuff for 8 hours a day seemed guaranteed to drive me batty). But recently my bff who used to have me proofread his undergrad papers started using ChatGPT to write them, leaving me bereft of grammatical errors to savage (and also the dinners he would trade for my diligent efforts).

So I almost immediately received an email prompting me to move to the next stage, HOWEVER for visa sponsorship apparently the gov't requires either a graduate degree OR a bachelors + 2 years of relevant work experience. No teaching. If blogging and editing for friends counted as experience, I would be golden. Or rather, if I could establish a paper trail for said experience...

[deoidesign]

One of my first digital pieces (2010) versus one of my recent ones (2024)

We all start somewhere!

[newtness532]

of course they brought me the yarn when i decided it's time to focus on studying lol

[rosicheeks]

🫶

[thebibliosphere]

Speaking of therapy, I say, as though we're old friends, and you're not a stranger trapped in this metaphorical elevator with me and you can hear the suspension wires starting to fray.

I've been doing a lot of work recently that's focused on imposter syndrome and the feeling that no matter how well or how much I do, I'm not good enough. That I'm somehow tricking everyone into thinking my work is actually good.

Some days it's a minor niggle in my head that I can gentle and soothe with logic and affirmations. Or smother, depending on the mood. Other times it's loud and all-consuming and the mental anguish it causes me is so real I can feel it twitching in my muscles. This desperate fight-or-flight instinct with nowhere to go and nothing to fight but myself.

Anyway, because I'm several types of Mentally Unwell™, I was switching between workshop sheets ahead of next week. Filling in different forms. (Trying to get a good grade in therapy) And I got my "recognize your harmful ADHD coping mechanisms" worksheet mixed in with the "you're not actually lying to people, you just feel like you are because your brain is full of weasels" worksheet, and seeing them side by side made something go topsy turvy in my head, and I just had to sit and breathe for a couple of minutes until the urge to scream passed. Because it clicked, it all suddenly clicked.

The reason the imposter syndrome workshops and therapy sessions aren't sticking was because I do routinely trick people into thinking I'm someone I'm not.

Because I'm masking my ADHD for their convenience.

I've always known there was something wrong with me. My neurotypical peers made it abundantly clear I didn't fit in or was failing in some way I couldn't see nor remedy, no matter how hard I tried.

So I compressed myself into a workaholic box of hyper-competence in the hopes they'd stop noticing the flaws and exploit like me instead. And then subsequently lived with the daily fear that if they looked too close, they'd realize I'm a monumental fuck up with enough personal baggage to block the Suez Canal.

If you ever need someone to burn themselves to ashes for your comfort and convenience, I'm your gal.

Or I used to. Until I had a bit of a breakdown, and the rubber band holding my brain together snapped and pinged off into the stratosphere, never to be seen again.

Unfortunately, the trauma of living like that didn't also fuck off and instead left a gaping maw where my personality ought to be, so now I get to deal with that aftermath.

And it's that aftermath that's affecting the imposter syndrome shit. Because yes, I am hyper-competent and good at what I do-- but it doesn't feel real because that is how I mask.

And the truly frustrating thing is I am good at what I do. I am not pretending. I worked hard to be good at this. It just feels like I'm dicking around because 90% of my personality turns out to be trauma masquerading as humor in a trenchcoat, and having people genuinely like something weird I'm doing is so foreign my brain has decided it's just another form of masking.

I'm pretending to be a good author so people will think I'm a good author, and my brain thinks we are in Danger of being found out. We are in Danger, and writing is Dangerous because then people will know I'm Weird and not whatever palatable version I've presented myself as for their NT sensibilities.

Like the neurotic vampire with a raging praise kink wasn't an obvious giveaway.

Anyway. I got nothing else. Thanks for listening.

I'm going to go be very normal in another room and not stare into the abyss of my own soul for a bit.

[stick2vamp]

.. sebatsian meets an old friend again (reader) after he was put in prison and taken by urbanshade… reader was sent to the blacksite by urbanshade but they don’t recognize sebastian (i’m in need of angst)

𝜗 ˖ ❝ why can't we laugh now, like we did then? ᵕ ♡

— in which time has flown by: you look the same, yet he looks so different. ✧

↷　 sfw 𓈒 decided to lump these two asks together cause they're similar 𓈒 angst 𓈒 sebastian backstory spoilers 𓈒 lowkey (highkey) rushed

12 years.

It's been 12 years since they took him away for good.

12 years since he died.

You knew he couldn't have done it: sure, SEBASTIAN has a bit of a smart tongue, but he would never actually harm another person. Let alone kill 9 others. Yet, the charged him for it. Yet, they sentenced him to death row. Yet, they electrocuted him to death.

And only 2 years after they killed him, did they finally realize he wasn't the murderer. 2 years after they took him from you, did they finally realize they made a mistake.

How old would he have been now? 32? No, 31: his birthday hasn't passed yet. Speaking of his birthday, you should probably celebrate for him soon.

But it's hard to celebrate when you ended up in prison yourself.

Same as your late friend, you had been falsely accused. Same as your late friend, you had been sentenced to death row. Same as your late friend, you were going to die.

You wondered: would they put you on the same chair he once sat on?

You would never find out.

A company—Urbanshade, as they called themselves—showed up within your final days. They offered a way out, a chance to live, a chance to redeem. Of course, given the awards, it was nothing short of sketchy. It would be a big risk.

You signed up, along with many others.

It didn't matter anyway. Worst case scenario, you would die either way. You had to try and live for Sebastian. To make it to his birthday, and celebrate it for him.

Suited up in diving gear, a collar-like mechanism attached to your neck, you were ready to go.

You passed door 31.

While you were expecting the dangers that came with a mission like this, you weren't expecting them to be.. well, this.

Entities whose entire body was simply a face rushed up and down the halls, mangling everything in their path. Their razor, jagged teeth could easily tear your human flesh to shreds. Shrouded squid-like entities that scream as you shine your light at them or stand too close. A deformed bull shark with its thousands of eyes pulling you, ushering you to look at it. All entities that didn't make sense, yet still existed before your very eyes—and ears.

Door after door, you awaited a threat to show up. Would the lights flicker? Would they already be off? Would a giant window be looking into the whole room?

None of those.

Instead, a vent flew open,

—and for once, you heard a humanoid voice.

The thing—person, you reminded yourself—in the vent was not human, though. His voice did not belong to... his appearance.

His skin was a grey-blue color, matching the color of a fish more than a human. He had hair, though, and front-facing eyes. Predators eyes always faced forward, didn't they?

The.. being looked up from his tail, glowing cyan eyes scanning over your figure. He suddenly fell silent, loosing whatever words were on his tongue—well, if he had a tongue.

A look of recognition flashed in his eyes as if he had found something familiar within you. Admittedly, you found his voice fairly familiar yourself.

His tail lowered, no longer flaunting the items on display.

Eventually, he spoke up.

"[Reader]?" His name escaped his mouth (which, you now realized he did in fact have a tongue) as an almost hushed whisper. He hesitated, his mouth staying open for a few seconds more as if about to say something else before it slowly closed. He continues to stare, stare and fall silent once more.

The way he said your name was a tone that screamed yearning.

And it pulled at your heartstrings.

The way he said your name as if he had known you for his whole life, made you pause for a second.

He knew you—or, at least thought he did—but you didn't know him.

"I'm sorry," you started, speaking before you could realize just how wrong you were, "But, do we know each other?"

He blinked.

You learned his name was Sebastian—and you figured that was probably why he seemed a bit familiar to you. He reminded you of your friend, of course. Same name, similar voice, snappy tongue.. It's as if you were looking at a reflection of your late friend.

Sebastian let you stay for a bit and buy from him, occasionally making small talk. You were amazed by how low the prices were. Only 30 for one battery? You were sure it'd be something like 75 instead!

As you picked up yet another battery, he spoke to you. "Wise choice to stock up on those. There aren't very many of them down here."

"Really? I've found quite a few," You mumbled as you stuffed it into your pocket, simultaneously taking out some research and placing it on the table.

"Of course you did," Sebastian mused, grumbling slightly. He fiddled with his claws, glancing away from you.

You paused, "What's that supposed to mean?" You casted a narrowed glance over to him.

"Nothing, nothing."

Of course he couldn't expect you to recognize him. Not when they had turned him into a monster. Mutated him until nothing but his voice was slightly recognizable. Even then, years of smoking and being stuck here made his voice more gravelly than it used to be.

Sebastian knew this, but it still stung when you looked away from him without any indication you knew who he was.

Nothing was left between the two of you anymore.

But his heart, bruised and bleeding, still wished for you.

Maybe that's why he gave discounts to you. Maybe that's why he contained his snappy tongue for once. Maybe that's why he casted you an almost desperate look when you told me you were going.

And maybe that's why he wished he reached out for you—but he didn't. He let you crawl back through that went. Sebastian let you leave him just as he left you.

So when you met him again, in the dimly dark room where he slid you a file,

—maybe that's why he vowed to make sure you make it to celebrate his birthday with him.

[yoohyeon]

I already regret waking up at 7am tomorrow 😭

[monstersholygrail]

A Surprise Visit (1k Celebration Fic)

Tentacle Monster x fem!reader — multiple orgasms, breeding, primal play, aphrodisiac injection, rut, dub con, bondage, double penetration, aftercare

a/n: Also just wanna thank you guys for 3k as well! Sorry it took me so long to get to this

The clock ticks by, the noise echoing throughout the empty room. You tap your pen against your desk in time with it as your thoughts drift past your home and go to your Tentacle Monster bf. The house far too quiet without him around.

You should’ve been used to this by now, you really should’ve! Your Tentacle Monster bf always traveled back home around this time of the month. Always very insistent to keep up visits with his family.

And you totally understood. You’ve met his parents and family members a handful of times. Never on their homeland but here in your home with your bf. Tentacle Monster bf was always very firm about the dangers of the swamp in which his family lives in its depths.

So you let it go, believing he of course knows best. Every month you wave your bf off as he leaves home and disappears for about a week or so. Always coming back right when he says he will. But something was… strange this time around.

It seemed to hit your bf about a week earlier than usual. His moods and behaviors changing as they always did around the time he left to go see his family. Growls so low you almost couldn’t hear them leaving him whenever he sees someone else looking at you. Making sure to rub himself against you until you were fully drenched in his scent. Always keeping at least three tentacles on you at all times, his clingy behavior somehow worsening these last few days.

In fact, he couldn’t keep himself off of you. Always squirming into your clothes as soon as you walk in the door, slipping them off with ease. Before you knew it he was fucking you on every available surface until you two got into the bedroom where he brought you to orgasm after orgasm until you passed out wrapped up in his slick tentacles.

After about five whole days of this, your Tentacles Monster bf brought up the idea of him leaving for his trip early, sitting you down in the breakfast nook, his tentacles wrapped around your hands. Though he respectfully discussed it with you, you still felt a bit ambushed— like it came out of nowhere. You tried to be as understanding as always but seriously, what the hell was going on with him? You were seriously worried, he’s never gotten so wound up to this extent.

His abrupt departure only made you worry more, not wanting to assume the worst but it’s as though your thoughts have a mind of their own as they travel down those dark pathways anyway. All with absolutely no way of getting answers due to your bf being miles away while you’re stuck here sitting at home.

Well fuck that.

No longer fine to just wait around, you want to take action. You want to be with your bf and help him through whatever’s going on with him. As well as get some much needed answers. Your determination fuels you, causing you to charge in head first.

Right into the Eternal Swamp, a home for a large portion of the Tentacle Monster population. Mostly due to its natural resources…and the fact that it makes any human who dare enter to go insane. All to feed the land’s inhabitants.

You look out the window of your car as you arrive, the edge of the swamp barely even visible over the fog. Bringing with it a cold sense of anticipation that you chalk up to nerves. What the hell are you thinking going in there? This is crazy, you’ve definitely gone crazy. But your heart beats wildly in your chest, urging you to go to your bf.

Not letting another moment of hesitation take you, you swiftly exit your vehicle. Walking with steady and firm steps into the swamp. That strength and courage slowly leaves you the deeper you go into the swamp. The fog growing so heavy you can no longer see the sun or even what’s standing right in front of you.

You make your way through the swamp as best you can, peering down at the ground to make sure you don’t deep dive into its waters. You can’t help but start second guessing your choice again. The anticipation building the longer you’re in here. Why? You’re not sure but it sends a chill running down your spine.

Tentacle Monster watches you through the fog, his vision blurry with the haze of lust clouding his mind. His rut sending him spiraling into insanity, surely. It was worse this month, that was a given. For one it hit him sooner than usual and now here he was, conjuring your figure before him just so he can find a little bit of relief.

But your scent was so potent, your form so vivid, and your voice as you call out his name so clear. It takes a moment for it to click in Tentacle Monster bf’s mind that you’re actually here. And when it does, his brain goes haywire. Nostrils flaring, body crouching into position. A predator posed to strike and take down its prey.

You remain as clueless as ever. Hopelessly trying to look through the fog and find your way to your bf. Praying he finds you before you’re eaten alive. A snap of a branch echos throughout the swamp and you gasp, head jerking toward the sound. Your body’s frozen as if staying still might hide you from any lingering beasts. At a subtle swish within the fog your mind fires off alarms, body forcing you into flight or fight. And boy do you fly.

Bolting forward you suddenly couldn’t care less what you might run into. And it’s a good thing as a second later a ferocious growl rings across the swamp, making your stomach drop. Your bf chases after you, all that’s processing is that his mate is running from him. Tempting him with your sweet pussy in order to drive him mad.

Pumping your legs as fast as they can go you stumble through the swamp. Cursing under your breath in a panic as you smack into branch after branch. It’s slowing you down and whatever’s after you must know this place a lot better. Just as the thought occurs, a tentacle snaps out, curling tightly around your waist. It’s caught you.

A scream rises from your throat as you thrash around, desperate to escape. Tentacle Monster bf growls in appreciation as your body grinds against his long tentacles. First with your little game and now this, your bf is more than ready to take you and ask questions later. He needs inside of you. More of his tentacles eagerly wrap around your enchanting body, sharply pinning you down onto the swamp floor and spreading you open.

For a moment a spark of familiarity shoots through you but you’re a little too busy freaking the fuck out to pay it any mind. Your thoughts are quickly diverted anyway as you feel tentacles sliding your panties to the side, exposing your pretty pussy to open air. Tears spring to your eyes, this can’t be happening.

Tentacle Monster bf plunges inside you with one swift thrust, his tentacle’s slime acting as a natural lubricant as well as an aphrodisiac. Getting you all nice and ready for the fucking of a lifetime… Now that he’s inside you, your bf’s mind clears a little. Allowing his curiosity and fear for your safety to mix amongst the lust. His big body leans over you, noting your shaking form with unease. “What are you doing here, my mate?”

You gasp, your body instantly relaxing as your eyes shoot open to be met with the lovely vision of your bf. It was him. It was him the whole time and it’s him now inside of you. Tears of relief quickly replace tears of fear and your bf is quick to comfort you, his tentacles caressing you in a way that’s now soothing instead of suffocating.

“W-was worried about y-you. Acting weird. Needed to understand,” you stammer out, your body slowly ceasing in its shaking. Tentacle Monster bf sighs, knowing he can no longer hide this from you.

“Every month my kind go through an intense need to breed their mates. We cannot stop pumping our seed inside their fertile wombs until it takes or the week ends. During that time I come here to relieve myself.”

Even now your bf is slowly rocking his tentacle inside your pussy but you don’t think he notices he’s doing it. Meanwhile you can’t help but moan, the aphrodisiac causing your body to tingle and your mind to grow hazy.

“I-I can help you,” you offer and you can see your bf’s eyes flashing with barely controlled restraint.

“But I would not want to break your fragile human body, my heart,” he grits out. His tentacle picking up pace anyway and you arch into it, body squirming against his tentacles again.

“Can handle it. Promise,” you whisper as the aphrodisiac swells across your body, making your pussy slick with need and your veins run hot with lust.

That’s all the restraint your Tentacle Monster bf has. The moment the words leave your lips he’s withdrawing his tentacle only to thrust two more in your pussy. You cry out as he takes you like a feral beast, fucking his tentacles into your perfectly restrained body.

Your bf growls, the heat of his rut roaring to life and pumping through him with urgency. His tentacles move you at a brutal pace. Forcing you to meet his every thrust without being able to escape anything he’s giving you. Using you like his perfect little fuck toy as he takes his pleasure from your body and returns it to you tenfold. And you love it, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as your body jerks in time to his rhythm.

With his tentacles plowing inside you, it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to build. And god is it good, the way he’s fucking you taking you to heights you’ve never known. Your cries of pleasure charge the air around you and your bf lets out a rumble as he ruts into you even harden until you’re thrown off the edge.

But he doesn’t stop there. Tentacle Monster bf keeps fucking into you, never letting the pressure ebb away as your essence coats his tentacles. Needing more. “Come again for me, love. Come on, I know you can do it. Just one more,” your bf snarls like a monster possessed.

His words repeat in an endless cycle as he snaps his tentacles inside your cunt over and over again. Working you through so many orgasms you lose count. You release all your senses to him and happily. Getting completely lost in the feeling of him as his tentacles fill your every hole till you’re squeezing down on him in every possible way.

The sky is dark by the time your bf gives you his final thrust, burying himself to the hilt and spraying your fertile womb with his seed. Chilling noises rip from your boyfriend’s throat that you’ve never heard before yet you can’t help but feel turned on by it as your body twitches with overstimulation.

Tentacle monster bf slumps on top of you, his tentacles covering every inch of your body in a way that has you smoothly falling down from relentless pleasure. Both of you finding peace in a place you once thought could drive you mad. Maybe it has. But as your bf whispers words of affection and praise in your ear saying how well you handled his rut and how he can’t wait for his eggs to grow inside of you… you don’t really care if you have gone mad.

[joelscruff]

imperfect for you (joel miller x f!reader)

masterlist | a/n written for @janaispunk's 1500 kisses challenge! i got joel + nose kisses with this lovely moodboard and actually managed to write something!!! believe it or not this started out as a drabble lmao. i hope you like it jana - sorry it's a bit late, and congrats again on your milestone 🤍 summary: you never thought joel miller would accidentally call you baby. warnings: age gap (joel is mid 40s, reader is 23), fluff, very brief instance of blood, tending to a wound, joel is eepy, soft kisses, cuddles word count: 5.5k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics

"When's the last time you slept?"

He doesn't bother to grace you with an answer, hands clenched on the steering wheel as you barrel down the vacant stretch of highway back to Lincoln. He's been ignoring you for the past fifteen minutes now, eyes straight ahead, brow furrowed, jaw clenched. But he looks pale, almost sickly, the whites of his knuckles stark against the sudden greenish hue of his skin. The last thing you need is for him to pass out and for the two of you to crash into a damn ditch.

"I'm just saying," you continue with an exasperated sigh, "I could drive the rest of the way, we're almost there."

No reply. You roll your eyes and cross your arms indignantly in the passenger seat, returning his icy demeanor. He's in one of his moods again, the ones only Tess really knows how to handle, but you'd volunteered to try your hand at a supply run in her stead which means she's not here to mediate. You should've known some issue would arise, stubborn Joel inventing problems in typical Joel fashion.

"You could've tried to last at least one more hour pretending to like me," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear. He doesn't say anything.

Almost a year of working with them now, and you still don't understand him. You're not sure you ever will. Tess, she's much easier to understand, much more open to being understood. She'd seen your potential and taken you under her wing, brought you in to help, taught you everything you needed to know about smuggling. And Joel... well, he's a different story.

"You know, Tess thinks I have promise," you continue anyway, expression crumpling into a scowl, "She thinks I can do this. I don't get why you don't."

No answer.

"And don't say it's 'cause I'm a kid, because I'm not. I'm twenty three now, I'm past the point of being called a fucking kid. The shit I've seen in that QZ-" you cut yourself off, shaking your head, "I'm not a kid."

His lack of response is beginning to hurt deeper than you'd really like to admit. You glance over at him again; he's still staring straight ahead, still ignoring your presence. It makes unwanted tears prick in your eyes, nose stinging a little as you peer down at your lap and fold your hands together.

You'd been excited for this supply run, probably against your better judgement. You'd wanted to show him how much you know and understand, how hard you've been working, how you're up to the task. Hoped maybe he'd give you a smile - rare, but not impossible - and tell you that you did good, that he sees potential in you too.

You care what he thinks, almost more than what Tess thinks. And you know why, can sense it deep in the pit of your stomach and in the way your heart stutters when he looks at you, but you're clearly living in a fantasy world if you think he's ever gonna get past whatever this stigma is that he has against your age. She's too young, Tess. She'll get hurt, Tess. She shouldn't be doin' this, Tess. You've heard it all, muffled through closed doors in a dark and damp hallway.

He doesn't want you, and you're not sure how much longer you can go on like this. If he's not willing to change his stance, view you as anything other than an inconvenience...maybe Tess will have to find somebody else to help out.

"I know what I'm doing," you mumble, a tear dribbling down your left cheek, "I just wanna help."

You spare him one more look, fruitlessly hoping that maybe he'll feel bad now that he's made you cry - a childish thought, considering you're trying to make a case for being mature, but you can't help it. You know he's capable of being gentle, of being kind. You've experienced it with him before, quiet moments between the two of you in his apartment while waiting for Tess to return, making small talk, him peering at you with a softness in those brown eyes that have since made frequent appearances in your dreams. Moments where you swear you felt wanted under that gaze, but it must've been in your head, because you certainly don't feel wanted right now.

He doesn't look well, you have to admit. His skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, getting paler by the second, turning an unnatural grey color akin to some of the hair on his head. His eyes are glassy, dark bags settled beneath them that you've noticed getting worse and worse over the past few weeks. You shoot a glance at his hands again and are surprised to see that he's loosened his grip, that his fingers seem to be trembling against the rubber.

"Joel," you say, raising your voice a bit, "Joel, are you okay?"

His lack of response no longer angers you - it worries you. Carefully, you reach over and slowly wrap your hand around his right wrist, eyes trained on his face. At your touch, he finally turns to look at you, almost like he's only just noticed you're even there.

"You say somethin'?" he asks, voice raspy, a bit slurred.

Your grip tightens on his wrist, "I think you should stop the car."

He looks at you curiously, dazedly. It's the expression of a man who's running on two, maybe three hours of sleep in the last few days. You choose your next words carefully, eyes flickering back and forth toward his face and the road that he's suddenly no longer watching.

"Let's slow down a bit," you murmur, thumb stroking gently along his skin - he's warm, warmer than normal - "I'm gonna drive the rest of the way, okay?"

You expect some pushback, an attempt at an argument, but the tiredness is setting in quickly. Without any hesitation he eases his foot off the gas and you hurriedly reach your own leg over into his space to push down on the brake. He doesn't seem to notice the way your bare leg brushes his jeans, the crease in your knee bending over the warmth of his thigh.

"There we go," you say softly, bringing the car to a slow stop. He's still looking at you, eyes unfocused as you carefully lean over a little more to unbuckle his seatbelt. You try to ignore how good he smells, how big he is compared to you, putting all your attention on getting him out of the front seat. You unlock his door and then unbuckle your own belt, hurrying out of the car to his side.

"M'okay," he mumbles as soon as you open his door. You start to help him out, and you think he's becoming a little more aware of the situation now, allowing you to pull him to his feet as you tug open the back door. "What's happenin'?"

"You're just tired," you tell him softly, "It's okay, you can sleep in the back, I'll drive."

"Bill n' Frank's," he says as you lead him the right way, pushing him a little and helping him place his knee down on the seat, "Y'know where it is? You remember?"

"I do," you tell him confidently, your hand coming down to press flat against his back - he's so solid, heat radiating against your palm, "Only twenty minutes away now, I got it. You just sleep."

He doesn't argue; in fact, he makes your job easier by crawling onto the seat and settling down with a low groan, rolling onto his back and breathing deeply. You can't help but let a small smile cross your features, watching as one of his hands comes up to rest atop his belly, the other dangling onto the floor. His eyelashes flutter a little, lips parting, and you're about to shut the door when he speaks again.

"I know you jus' wanna help, baby."

You stand there for a moment just staring at him, confusion racing through your thoughts. Goosebumps rise on your flesh as the last word repeats like a mantra in your head, steady and slow as Joel drifts off. It's only when the door is shut and you're in the front seat that you're able to put some meaning to the words, eyes wide as you stare at the faded lines on the road.

I know what I'm doing, you'd said, I just wanna help.

You leave him in the car when you get to Bill and Frank's, typing in the gate code with a backward glance at his loose form in the backseat. They must see him on one of the security monitors, because as soon as the doors open you spot them sprinting out of the house toward you, a scanner gripped in Bill's hand. Typical.

"He's okay," you tell them as soon as you're out of the car, instantly alleviating their stress, "He's just exhausted, I think he needs to sleep for a little while."

"Understatement of the century," Frank replies with a relieved laugh, eyeing the backseat, "Think we can get him in the house?"

"Just leave him in the car," Bill says with a wave of his hand, already turning to head back towards the house with the scanner hanging out of his pocket, "He'll be fine."

Your gaze meets Frank's and he rolls his eyes, "Come on, baby, let's get him upstairs." Your brows go up at the pet name, the same word that had fallen from Joel's lips only twenty minutes ago, but then Bill is shuffling back over with an annoyed look on his face and you quickly realize he's not talking to you.

Getting Joel out of the car proves to be a lot more difficult than getting him in. You try a gentle approach at first, brushing his arm and stroking his skin with your thumb again like you'd done earlier. You can feel Frank's eyes on you as you squeeze Joel's bicep, his wrist, his thigh, and you pretend you don't see the look that passes between him and Bill as you step out to let them take a turn.

Bill goes for a much more aggressive approach, shaking Joel's shoulders wildly and practically yanking him out of the car. Understandably, Joel wakes with a gasp and kicks his legs out, hand reaching for his pistol as he frantically tries to escape Bill's grasp. Before he can grab it though, he's suddenly falling forward, knees buckling as he faceplants onto the pavement beside the car.

Well, that certainly wakes him up. His hands press into the gravel and his head shoots up, blood trickling down his nose as he peers up at the three of you, stunned.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Bill," Frank groans.

"That was not my fault."

Ignoring them, you kneel down and gently touch Joel's shoulder, a concerned look on your face as you eye the splattered blood on the ground, "Fuck, are you okay?"

"What in the hell is goin' on?" he groans, turning to look at you, "Did Bill just break my fuckin' nose?"

"Don't be dramatic," Bill barks, spinning on the spot and heading into the house, "Shoulda just left you in the car."

Joel starts scrambling after him, rising up and standing on wobbly legs, hand reaching for his pistol once again. You and Frank grab him before he can do anything, both of you taking an arm and holding him back.

"Joel, you're exhausted," you tell him quickly, utilizing all your strength, "You just need to lay down. Please."

He turns his face to look at you and something flutters in your chest when you catch the way his eyes soften, the anger in his expression fading as he acknowledges your presence. You can vaguely make out Frank watching the two of you in your periphery, but you try your best to ignore it, instead opting to give Joel a reassuring smile.

"Let's just get you cleaned up, okay?"

You're grateful that Frank leaves you alone with Joel to tend to his nose. You've only met him a handful of times, but each time he'd somehow been able to clock the way you interact with Joel, the way you look at him. The last time you'd been here he'd subtly pulled you aside to give you a few words of wisdom.

"You do realize he's extremely unavailable, right?"

"I- I don't know what you're talking about."

He'd smiled, tapped his nose and given you a knowing look, "And I don't just mean because of Tess. That man is emotionally constipated, kiddo. He's an island." He'd laughed then at your confused expression, shaking his head, "Just be careful, s'all I'm saying."

You'd gone to walk away, forget the conversation even happened, when he'd softly called after you:

"And I'm pretty sure Tess would hang your head on her wall."

You think of those words now as you stand in front of Joel in the small bathroom off the landing, lip between your teeth as you eye the cut on his nose. It isn't broken, thank fuck, but you can see some dirt and gravel in there that you need to clean out.

"It's not broken," you tell him softly. He's sitting on the edge of the bath tub, peering up at you with a much more alert expression. The fall definitely woke him up, not to mention the choice words he and Bill had thrown at each other as you and Frank helped him up the stairs. He's still exhausted though, and he needs to rest.

"I know it's not," he grumbles, "Just wanted to give Bill a piece of my mind for once."

You laugh softly as you reach for the damp cloth beside you, bringing it up to carefully pat it against the gash on the bridge of his nose. You can feel his eyes on you, watching and assessing as you do your best to wipe the area clean.

"I can do that myself," he murmurs.

"I just wanna help," you say quietly, and your eyes fall to his in a knowing glance. He doesn't seem to remember though, just nods and lets you carry on.

It's rare for you to be this alone with him. And by that, you mean this far from Tess. You're painfully aware that it would be impossible for her to walk in at any moment, to see the way you're standing over him, touching him. Frank's words from last time echo in your head but you're not quite sure you believe them; would she really be that angry if she knew how you felt about Joel? It's not like he'd return it, right? The man is twenty years your senior and, as Frank said, extremely unavailable. Not to mention Tess and Joel's relationship has been a point of confusion to you for a year now, still unsure exactly what they are to each other - would she really care?

You reach for the antiseptic - one of the many perks of having an injury in a supply house - and carefully dab some onto the cloth. Your hand trembles a bit as you reach up to carefully hold Joel's chin, your thumb getting lost in his greying beard.

"You haven't shaved in a while," you breathe, your eyes meeting his, and you wonder if you've already crossed a line by even noticing.

He doesn't seem to mind though, sighing deeply, "I haven't slept in a while, so let's hurry this up," he eyes the cloth, "Don't gotta warn me, just do it."

His words bring you back to the present, and you slowly ease the cloth down onto his cut. He hisses a bit, a normal reaction, but it only takes a few seconds to clean and then you're already reaching for a bandage, reluctantly letting go of his chin.

"I was worried about you, before. In the car," you tell him softly, unpeeling the adhesive, "Why haven't you been sleeping?"

His eyes fall to the floor, "I just don't sleep good. Never have."

"Is there anything I can do?"

He shrugs, gives you a humorless laugh, "Handful o' pills and a couple sips o' whiskey usually does the trick."

It makes sense, then, why these past few weeks he's seemed worse. It's been longer than usual since your last supply run and the three of you had started running out of vital supplies over a week ago now, not only for buyers but for yourselves. Joel had written whiskey near the top of the latter list, along with hydromorphone which he'd underlined several times.

"You should've told me you weren't feeling well," you murmur, applying the bandage carefully, "I could've driven the whole way."

"Could've, should've," he dismisses you with a grunt, "Doesn't matter now, does it? We got here, that's what counts."

You linger a little longer than you should on the bandage, thumb falling to gently trace the crease of his nose as you assess your work. It might scar, but it feels pointless to voice this - he already has so many, scattered across his face and neck like confetti. It hurts a little, knowing he's been through so much, seeing the evidence written all over him.

"My mom had this superstition," you tell him softly, a smile playing at your lips as you trace one of the scars under his eye, soft and delicate, "Whenever I got hurt, skinned my knee or busted my elbow playing, she'd bandage me up and then kiss it. She said a kiss would seal her love in there, keep me safe and protected. And if it scarred, that meant it worked."

He blinks at you, expression faltering a bit, "That's...that's a nice thought."

You shake your head, "It's silly, and not true. But... but I still do it anyway, even though she's gone. Just in case," you bite your lip, "I mean, who doesn't wanna feel a little more safe? A little more protected?"

Your gazes lock, and neither of you seem to move, caught in the stillness of the moment and the way your thumb is still stroking his face. You know you have limited time, maybe a few seconds before he breaks it, so without much thought at all you lean down and lightly press your lips to the bandage, eyes closed.

He inhales sharply, a sound that triggers butterflies in your tummy as you hold your mouth against his nose, soft and sweet. It's the closest you've ever been to him, even if you're kissing gauze and not skin - you can still feel the warmth radiating from him, sense the way he freezes below you. A squeaking sound pierces the silence, his hand squeezing the edge of the bath tub tightly. It startles you, your eyes blinking open as you pull back to look at him.

His cheeks are tinged pink, eyelids heavy as he peers up at you with slow blinks.

"You're tired," you breathe, unable to stop your hand from flitting to his hair, pushing a little behind his ear, "Let's get you to bed."

The Joel Miller in Bill and Frank's guest room is not the Joel Miller you thought you knew.

This Joel is loose, pliant. He lets you lead him into the bedroom with a hand on his back, lets you carefully turn him on the spot to reach up and undo the buttons on his flannel. Frank had told you on your way up to make sure Joel didn't get blood on the sheets, so you're only following orders, only doing what you were told.

"Sorry," you murmur softly, fingers shaking every so often as they toy with the buttons, sticky with his blood. Joel doesn't seem to notice though, retreating more and more into the sleepy state he'd been in earlier.

Once his flannel is off you assess his t-shirt and jeans, and you're not sure how to feel about the fact that they didn't get dirty in the fall. On the other hand, though, you're not sure you'd have been brave enough to take them off. Instead you help him toward the bed, pull back the sheets and carefully push him ahead.

"There you go," you whisper, helping him under the covers and pulling the blankets back over him. The sun is streaming through the window, casting the golden light of early evening across the bed, and while it's quite beautiful you shut the curtains anyway, knowing he'll sleep better in darkness. When you turn back around, he's already fallen asleep, lips parted, face peaceful. A different man.

You don't linger, even though you want to.

It's around ten o'clock when you decide to check on him again. You'd watched a movie with Bill and Frank, feeling more than a little unwelcome as Bill tossed you a few dirty looks every so often, though Frank repeatedly told you to ignore him. Now they're in bed downstairs while you pad from your own room across the hall to Joel's, turning the knob carefully. The hinges squeak a little as you open it and you wince.

"Who's there?" you hear Joel grumble from the bed. So much for just taking a peek.

"Me, just me." You push the door wider and walk inside, eyebrows going up when Joel turns on the bedside lamp. He seems a little more rested, although you know he still needs a full night's sleep. "I sent a message to Tess through the radio to let her know we're not coming back tonight - well, Frank did. Picked a song called Tomorrow or something like that."

"Hope it was the Johnny Mathis version," he mumbles, and you watch as he brings his hands up to rub across his face. He accidentally dismantles the bandage and you step forward without really thinking, hurrying to his side and reaching down to fix it.

His hand comes up to grab yours and you freeze in place.

"I can do it," he says, giving you a curt look and then releasing your hand to adjust the gauze himself.

Well, you suppose lax and sleepy Joel couldn't stick around forever. You stand awkwardly by the side of the bed, toying with the edge of the blanket as he rubs his eyes and sits up a little, leaning back against the headboard. He looks so much older in this light; you can see the little flecks of grey in his beard and hair that have been starting to get more noticeable lately, the crows feet, the wrinkles.

He's so handsome.

He turns to look at you with a frown, as if he's only just realizing what you said, "We can go back tonight, I'm fine."

"You're not and you know it. Besides, it's already past ten and now I'm tired, I won't be able to drive."

"I can drive."

"Joel," you surprise yourself by sitting down on the edge of the bed, narrowing your brow as you give him a serious look, "You can't drive. You almost fucking killed us both."

"No I-"

"Yes you did," your tone is firm, suddenly angry - are you angry? - "If I hadn't been talking to you, if I hadn't noticed something was wrong, you would've driven us off the damn road."

He goes quiet at that, frown deepening, the lines on his face more prominent in the low lamplight. You sigh, eyes falling to rest on where your hand is settled on the bed, only inches from his. Part of you wants to reach out and touch, feel the warmth of his skin, the rough of his palm - the other part decides to do something even more stupid.

"You called me baby."

It's out of your mouth before you've even really acknowledged it, and once the words have tumbled out you know there's no taking them back. Your gaze snaps back up to his, slightly surprised to see that he doesn't seem very shocked by your admission.

He clears his throat a little, averting his gaze and shuffling a bit under the covers, "Did I?"

"...Yeah."

You think maybe he'll say something else - anything else - but he doesn't. God, it really is like pulling teeth with him; he's so fucking beautiful but so impossible, never being able to expand on something unless prompted, never being able to answer a single question without jerking you around first. How the fuck has Tess managed to deal with it for so long?

The thought of Tess sends a wave of guilt through your body, Frank's words echoing in your head, but you shove it down.

"What made you... I mean why..." your voice is soft, apprehensive and shy in the quiet of the bedroom, "why'd you call me baby?"

A beat of silence. Then-

"Don't ask me that."

The mood has shifted, your sudden anger ebbing and his annoyance fading into something else, something on the brink of being real. He's avoiding your eyes, peering at the window with the curtains drawn and tapping his fingers anxiously against the mattress, so close to your hand. He's nervous; you're making him nervous.

You stay silent, hoping he'll speak again, hoping maybe just this one time he'll tell you what he's thinking.

"I don't know why."

The words are barely a whisper, almost like he's telling you a secret, and he leaves them hanging in the air briefly before amending - "Well," he sighs and finally looks at you, an emotion you can't place crossing his features, "that's not true. But... I didn't mean - fuck, I was passin' out, for Christ's sake, I didn't realize-"

He cuts himself off again, raising his hand up to press his fingers to the bridge of his nose, briefly forgetting the bandage. He winces when he comes in contact with the gauze, "Can I take this off? It's drivin' me fuckin' crazy."

"Let me do it," you say quietly, inching forward on the bed and reaching for his face. He flinches when you go to touch him, and your hand freezes mid-air.

"Sorry," he mutters, shaking his head like he's shaking off a sensation, a chill, "Go ahead."

With careful - and slightly trembling - fingers, you remove the bandage from his nose. It looks much better than before, no fresh blood in sight, and you suppose it's okay for him to keep it uncovered for the night. Without really thinking about it you gently thumb the side of his nose just shy of the cut, the tips of your other fingers brushing against his cheek.

"It's not too bad," you murmur, and before you know it you're suddenly cupping his jaw, feeling the weight of it in your palm. Your gaze falls to his lips, your thoughts going a mile a minute.

You realize you're close enough that you could kiss him, if you really wanted to. If he really wanted to. All it would take is one small movement, one little push from the both of you, one leap of faith...

And then he whispers your name, almost a warning, and it's like his thoughts are mirroring yours - like he can see exactly what you're picturing, wishing for. Your eyes meet his and you feel a flutter in your stomach when you see the way he's looking at you, a quiet hunger hidden in the deep brown.

You decide to test the waters. You lean in and softly press another kiss to his nose, this time without the gauze in the way. Just like you'd thought, his skin is hot under your lips, soft but scarred, and his smell - god, he smells so masculine and safe, invading your senses as your lips trail downwards to press a small kiss to his cupid's bow, then another to the corner of his mouth. It's sharp, prickly from his scruff, but it doesn't bother you in the slightest - in fact, you kind of like the dull pain, the way it grounds you, keeps you in the moment.

"Baby," he whispers, and a soft little whine falls from your lips without meaning to as your lips move to ghost across his mouth, going for another kiss - a real kiss.

He pulls away before you get there, but then his hand comes up to touch your face, big and wide. He holds you like you're precious, small. His baby.

"S'not right," he whispers, though his thumb strokes your cheek soothingly, "S'not okay for me to want you like that."

You close your eyes at his touch, breathing deeply, "But you do."

"Yeah, I do," you hear him murmur, "You know I do."

"For how long?"

He doesn't respond right away, just continues to stroke your cheek, hold what feels like all of you in his warm palm. You tilt your head a bit to the side, eyes fluttering open to look at him again. You catch the way his lips turn up a little at the movement.

"Too damn long," he sighs, "But that don't... that's not..." he brings his other hand up to cup the other side of your face, holding you still as he peers at you in earnest, brow furrowed, "Point is, we shouldn't... you shouldn't be out here alone with me. Tess knows how I-" he cuts himself off again, and you can see now how difficult it is for him to communicate like this, to be open and honest, "I told her it wasn't a good idea."

"Why?"

He laughs lightly, thumbs circling the apples of your cheeks, "'Cause look where we ended up." He swallows, eyes falling to your lips, "Look where you are right now, baby. Look where my damn hands are for cryin' out loud."

"Keep calling me baby," you breathe, a desperation in your voice that betrays your emotions, tears pricking in your eyes as the weight of this conversation comes crashing down around you. He wants you - he's always wanted you. His words to Tess about not wanting to put you in danger, wanting you to stay away, those soft looks you've shared in his apartment, the small talk, all of it - it's because he wants you.

"We can't do this," he murmurs, leaning in to press his forehead to yours, eyes closing, "I can't do this, you're so- you're too-" he groans, fingers digging into your hair, "You're so young, baby."

"I don't care," you whine, butting your head forward to chase his lips, suddenly yearning to be kissed and held and protected by him, be wrapped in his embrace.

But he pulls away, removing his hands from your face and shuffling back a bit on the bed, away from you. Your hand drops but you reach out pathetically for him anyway, moving closer, attempting to pull the covers back. His hands capture yours and he squeezes them firmly, shaking his head.

"You need to go back to your room," he tells you, and his tone has changed from soft to serious, "It's late and I'm... well, you know I'm fuckin' exhausted. And you've had a long day." He looks at you with pleading eyes, like he's silently begging for you not to put him in this situation, "Let's just call it a night, okay?"

"But-" you start, tears shining in your eyes.

"Please," he breathes, "Please don't make this harder than it needs to be."

You do not want to get up from his bed. But you do.

You do not want to leave his room. But you do.

You do not want to lie awake in your own bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how his hands felt on your face, the way his eyes searched yours, the way his skin felt under your lips.

But you do.

You lie there for hours, thumbs twiddling against your belly, tears trickling down your cheeks every so often. All you can hear in your mind over and over again is the word Baby, punctuated by that soft groan he'd made, the way his thumbs had stroked your cheeks, how large and warm and safe he'd seemed in that bed.

All you want to do is be in that bed with him.

So it's no surprise when, as the sun is beginning to rise and that warm golden light starts to stream through your window, you crawl out from under your blankets and cross the hall one more time.

"We shouldn't" he murmurs when you climb into bed with him, when you tuck yourself into his side and bury your face in his shoulder, but his hands are already in your hair, fingers stroking along the back of your head.

Your bodies mold together like they've always been meant to fit that way, your legs tangled with his, arms trapped under big biceps and hairy forearms, breasts flush with his suddenly bare chest.

"I wanna be your baby," you whisper.

The nose you'd kissed brushes slowly up and down the side of your face, and he doesn't hesitate this time. He reaches up to turn your head, presses his lips against yours and lets you melt into him. Lets you trail your hand downward to unbutton his jeans in the silence of the early morning.

"You already are."

[landosjupiter]

friends with benefits!lando who can’t ever take his eyes off you. even at a party surrounded by all your friends, he’s fucking intoxicated by you. he traces the skin tight dress that encompasses your figure, leaving little to the imagination. the thoughts immediately fills his head: dress on or off? are you wearing panties or is it just a thin layer of silk that separates him from the thing he wants most?

friends with benefits!lando, who laughs when you pass him. scolding him with a playful slap to his shoulder that “all our friends can see your hard-on!” his palm circles your wrist to tempt you back towards him, lips grazing the shell of your ear and stubble scratching the sharpness of your jaw. too close to be ‘just friends’, too far apart for your liking.

friends with benefits!lando who whispers tempting promises into your ear as though you’re the only people left on earth. “are you gonna come home with me, love?”

you fiddle with the lapel of his jacket, biting back a smile on red-stained lips. “that depends. what’ll we do?”

with his hand hovering above the curve of your hip bone - just a light enough touch to be deemed ‘respectful’ - he murmurs, “anything you want.”

friends with benefits!lando, one hand on the steering wheel while the other touches whatever bit of bare skin of yours he can reach, driving like a madman because he doesn’t want to look anywhere but at you. sloppy kisses as you drag him to his apartment, manicured fingers peeling away clothes.

“you’re wearing so much,” you whine against his lips as you desperately try to unbuckle his belt.

“and you’re wearing so little,” he replies when his hand sneaks up your dress, only to be greeted by your slick, uncovered pussy. “is all this because of me, baby?”

friends with benefits!lando, who pins you beneath his warm body the minute you’ve undressed, pink lips trailing from your jaw and downwards, sucking bruising kisses across the plump slope of your breasts.

friends with benefits!lando, who gently pushes into you, trying to lessen any pain that might come from the burning stretch by telling you to keep your eyes on him. he groans when your hips buck up to meet his, pushing his cock deeper into your pussy, desperate whines slipping from your lips.

friends with benefits!lando, large hands leaving imprints on your ass and hip, moaning into your neck as he rocks gently against you. soft skin on soft skin.

friends with benefits!lando, fixated on the sight of his cock slipping into your warm cunt, fingers pressing down on where he can its outline pressing against your cervix. “taking me so well, aren’t you, baby?”

friends with benefits!lando, who’s favourite sound on earth might just be your cries when you come undone at his praise, gripping his neck to pull him closer as you whimper his name over and over again.

friends with benefits!lando, blurting out, “god, i love you” as his cum fills you up, so warm, so full that it leaks out your pussy from around his cock.

but you just reply with a moaned, “no you don’t”.

your admonishment causes his breath to stutter, and he murmurs a low what. your hands cradle his head, pulling him in for a long kiss, lazy and tired and fucked out, before whispering, “you don’t mean that. you’re not thinking clearly.”

after all, a pussy drunk man will say any word that comes to mind.

friends with benefits!lando, probably would’ve said it anyways.

//

my first time writing smut so any criticism/advice is appreciated. requests are open 🤍🤍

[moremaybank]

Any Dad!JJ? You’re just one of the best at writing him.

dad!jj for the soul !!!!! i hope you enjoy, angel! i really enjoyed writing this one! 🤍

jj's elated when he sees his six year old babygirl, avery, walking out of her classroom. it's three-thirty on the dot, a time jj looks forward to daily when he picks up your daughter and takes her to work with him while they wait for you to meet them there after work.

avery reaches him, and he crouches down to her height so he can press a kiss to her cheek. "hi, babygirl."

"hi, daddy!"

he loves how chipper his little girl gets when she's around him. she lets it be known that she adores his presence, and that's what he's always dreamed of as a parent.

"mama killed it on your hair today," he says. he yanks gently at one of the braids you'd put into her hair earlier this morning. "look at these. phew. think my babygirl's a model."

she giggles at her father's affectionate words, cheeks heating with love. her squeals grow louder when jj scoops her up and makes his way to his truck. he buckles her into her booster seat, ruffling up the top of her hair playfully before shutting the door and getting into the driver's seat.

"hey, daddy?"

"'sup, aves?" he asks, pulling out of the parking lot and starting on the journey to the auto shop.

"what colours do boys like best?"

he arches a brow. "what d'ya mean, sweet girl?"

"dunno...like what colour do you like most on mama?"

"hmmm," jj says, pondering out loud. "that's a hard one, baby. i think your mama looks good in everythin'."

an adorable huff escapes her pursed lips. "daddy. 'm serious. you have to pick one."

the truck zooms down the road, passing by avery's favourite fast food joint. jj can't help but speed up just a smidge, hoping and praying that she won't look out the window and wrangle a chicken finger combo out of him. 'cause then he'd have to get one for her. he's never said no to his princess and he doesn't plan on changing that any time soon.

"mm, i guess i'd say red. i like when she wears that matching lipstick too."

jj looks up at the rear view mirror, catching the way avery nods before a presumable heat takes over her face. the dimple she'd gotten from him peeks through as she smiles to herself.

"what're you smilin' about?"

"nothing, daddy. i just think i'm gonna wear red for the dance tomorrow."

he arches a brow, but he doesn't push her on her answer. "whatever you want, babygirl."

˖ . ݁ 𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

jj hears the click-clacking of high heels against the floors of the auto-shop, and he doesn't need to wheel out from underneath the station wagon he's working on to know it's you.

"hi, mommy!" avery greets cheerfully, getting off the spinning chair jj had secured for her from the break room. she runs over to you as quickly as her smaller feet can manage, and you meet her with an equally thrilled grin. you pick her up and squeeze her into a tight hug.

"hi, baby." you smooth down some of her frizz. "how was school?"

"it was good. chrissy shared her chocolate bar with me, and kyle gave me a flower at recess."

neither of you can see it, but jj makes a face under the car.

kyle? who the fuck was kyle?

"he's a good best friend to you, baby," you tell her. "did you thank him?"

"yes. and he's not my best friend anymore, mama. he's my boyfriend."

this time, you do see jj's reaction. or, rather, hear it anyway.

"what?!"

something that sounds like a bang rings through the air, followed by a shit (to which your daughter snickers, always one to find her father hilarious). then, he rolls out from beneath the vehicle, rubbing his forehead to ease the sharp pain. his eyes find your daughter's, though, and he's as stern as you've ever seen him.

"aves— you can't have a boyfriend!"

"daddy, i'm six. i'm not a baby," avery reminds him, sounding every bit like a teenager instead of her actual age. the sass never failed to make you smile.

just like her daddy.

"yes, you are still a baby! my baby!"

"j—" you interject.

"nah. nope. no way."

"why don't you go back over there and colour, angel?" she nods, and you set her down, watching as she runs back to her chair. she takes a sip of her apple juice, bringing her attention back to her artwork.

deciding she's not at all bothered by jj's theatrics, you walk over to him and help him stand. you look up into his cerulean eyes when he towers above you. "babe, relax. she's six."

"exactly! she's a baby! she can't have a boyfriend. s'just not happenin'."

you give him a knowing smile, your arms looping around the back of his neck. "you were my boyfriend when we were six," you remind him. "don't think you found anything wrong about that back then."

he frowns, but pulls you in closer by your hips anyway. no matter what, any time he's around you without touching you, it just seems like a waste.

"that's different. i was a nice boy."

you both realize avery's been listening quietly when she chimes in. "kyle's nice too, daddy. he kisses my cheek everyday at the end of school."

she says it like it's a fact. like kyle never misses out on what infuriatingly sounds like a tradition to jj.

jj thinks he's having a stroke.

"he's puttin' his lips on you, now?!" his forehead falls to your shoulder, and he slumps against you like the six-foot baby he is. "oh god, i think i'm gonna be sick." a beat passes, and then he distances himself from you. the sulk is still prominent on his face, and now, it's probably permanent. he pulls at his collar, shifting uncomfortably as he tries to fan himself off. "'m i sweating?"

avery hops down from her chair, strutting over to her father and tugging at the leg of his coveralls, silently requesting that he crouch down to her height. of course, jj immediately falls in line.

"don't be mad, daddy."

"wait, wait, wait— is kyle the reason you're wearin' red tomorrow?!"

"don't worry, daddy." she pats his cheek like he's the one who needs reassurance. to be fair, he clearly is. "kyle's nice. just like you."

and with that, she trots off back to her chair with a cheshire cat smile, clearly feeling accomplished.

"yeah. he better be," jj mutters bitterly, standing back up.

your hands reach out to grab a hold of your husband again, and it draws his attention back to you. your hands frame his face and you give him a smile. "you're gonna be a total nightmare when she grows up and gets a boyfriend or girlfriend for real."

"damn right, i will. like i said, she's my baby."

you raise a brow. "i thought i was your baby?"

his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and then his mouth forms into a smirk. "see now, she's my baby. but you're my baby." his hands migrate down to your ass and he gives you a squeeze. "you pickin' up what i'm puttin' down?"

"oh, i think i am."

concepts ; concepts (ii)

[rosicheeks]

i do not know if i ever sent this to you. i have posted it. i hope you like it Princess.

[girlokwhatever]

can you do like reader is mad at paige n paige yk the attitude right outta her?

CERTAINLY I CAN!!!!

⋆·˚ ༘ *𓍢ִ໋₊˚*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆𖡎 are you done yet? ,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader

you’ve been wanting to leave this club for the past hour.

the crowd was large when you got here, but since then it’s only grown. the air is hot and tacky, causing you to stick to each person you pass. it was nasty really, even worse on the dance floor.

your feet were aching and the lace from your top was scratching against your chest, only adding to your discomfort. a sheen layer of sweat covered your skin from head to toe and it seemed everyone else was experiencing the same thing.

you were just leaving the dance floor, jostling around larger bodies to get to the bar where you last saw your girlfriend. she had been talking to some guy about basketball when you’d left, but now she’s replaced her company for a woman around your age. you were slightly jealous and definitely angry. she had barely paid you any mind within the past hour, constantly occupying herself with other people. even after you tugged on her hand and asked her so nicely if the two of you could just go home.

that was an hour ago though. your desire to leave only grew in the time frame, as well as your annoyance.

you walked straight to paige, trying to find your balance among the numerous bodies. there wasn’t really a chair available, so you opted for leaning against her, one hand at the back of her neck and the other adjusting your top.

“hi baby-“

“can we go?” the abruptness of your question shocked paige. her eyebrows raised and she gave you a ‘really?’ look. you’re deadpanning though, attitude written across your face in neon bold lettering. if she wouldn’t take your hints earlier, you’d stop dropping them.

she’s pulling you between her and the bar and onto her lap. though it relieves the aching in your legs and feet, it’s not really what you wanted. she’s leaning up, lips just behind your ear and muttering a quick “don’t be a brat.”

you roll your eyes at that, finding her antics absolutely ridiculous. you’d been here with her all night, letting her enjoy herself while you suffered. you usually didn’t mind going out and having some fun; the club tonight had been too packed for you though. everywhere you went, every time you turned around, there was someone within whispering distance to you.

at this point, you stop considering the consequences of your actions. you grab her car keys out of her pocket and leave the club. paige is absolutely flabbergasted, excusing herself and following behind you with haste. she feels her body grow hot with anger watching you walk away from her without so much as a look back.

why were you so pissed?

her stride is much longer than yours so she’s catching up to you in no time. she grabs your wrist and her keys simultaneously, turning you around and stopping you in your tracks.

“what the hell is your problem? hm?” she emphasizes her point with the tight grip on hour jaw, staring straight at you. you’re both tipsy, you more so than her, and it throws your usual rationality out the window. you push her away from you, watching with satisfaction as she stumbles back a step.

she makes you so angry but fuck does she look good. you’re scoffing right to her face and doing it loudly. as though her feelings are ludicrous, completely irrelevant and wrong.

“my problem?! you know what- whatever. you stay here if you want. i’ll walk home. need a break from you anyway.”

if you had left the last part off, paige wouldn’t have been as mad as she was. in all honesty, she would’ve just taken you home peacefully after giving you a kiss and apologizing for keeping you here so long. but, you did add the last part. you looked your girlfriend in the face and told her you were tired of her.

“say that again, i dare you.” her tone is taunting and you know it’s a trap, but you do it anyway.

“you’re getting on my nerves and i need a break from you.” you’re punctuating every word, but little do you know it’s only fueling your girlfriend.

as soon as you say it you’re being pushed into the backseat of her car. she’s climbing in after you, closing the door as she tries so desperately to fit her frame into the small space. paige pulls her loose hairs into a bun, leaning over you once she’s finished.

“wanna act so fucking tough and mean- gonna get rid of your attitude baby. till all you can say is my name.”

“i bet you couldn’t.”

oh. challenge accepted.

your skirt is hiked up, panties pulled to the side as paige prods you with her fingers. she notices the way the street lamp makes your cunt shine from your wetness, smirking at your situation. she’s knees deep into the backseat, pushing two fingers into you at once.

you cry out at the new and sudden stretch. she doesn’t give you time before her fingers thrust roughly in and out of you at a brutal pace. they’re curling inside of you, already finding the spot that makes your back arch to heaven.

“you like that?” you say nothing, make no motion of acknowledgement. smoke is blowing from her ears at this point, not able to believe how stubborn you’re being right now, even as she plunges her fingers into your sopping wet cunt. your silence only motivates her to speed up, because sure, you didn’t say any words, but your loud moans spoke for you. your body is so responsive to paige, it always has been. every time she touches you, you lean into it. every time she kisses you, you’re chasing her lips when she pulls away.

just like right now. the way your core tightens and she feels it, moving away and watching your hips follow her fingers when she denies you your orgasm. you’re protesting, begging for her to continue and cryimg out her name like a chant. your hair is already a mess and your girlfriend’s heart pounds, using every bit a restraint to stop herself from giving into your pleas.

“are you done being a brat yet?”

“paige-“

“apologize and i’ll let you cum, how does that sound?” she’s rubbing and kissing your thighs, watching the way you squirm at the proposal.

even from her position between your legs she sees the battle you’re having with yourself. she almost thinks for a moment you’ll brave the storm and say no, but deep down she knows there’s only one option for you. she can tell by the way you push your hips into her face.

“i’m sorry paigey. i was.. fuck- i wasn’t being nice. i’m sorry for being mad and giving you attitude.” your voice is weak and it’s turning her on so much to hear you like this, begging for her completely. she doesn’t know how genuine your apology actually is, but she doesn’t care either.

her tongue twirls your clit, gentle and slow to tease you. it’s excruciating, the feeling making you screw your eyes shut as your mouth falls open. you’re moaning her name out too, just like she said you would be.

she’s sucking on your clit now, toying with it and gauging your different reactions to different movements. she knows what you like already (nearly everything from her) but the look of pure ecstasy on your face will never get old. you grind your hips down onto her face, desperate to find your release. you can feel it tightening in your stomach and making your head spin, but just as quickly as it came, it’s being ripped away from you.

paige is sitting upright now, readjusting your clothes and wiping around her chin where she feels the remains of you. she’s licking her fingers and lips clean, staring at your shocked expression, one singular tear rolling down your cheek.

“what’s wrong baby?”

“you said-“

“should’ve thought about it better honey. i’m jus’ giving you space since you’re so tired of me. just like you wanted right?”

you don’t miss her shit-eating grin as she leaves the backseat. she plops into the driver’s seat, glancing back at you momentarily. she places a hand on your thigh and it makes you jolt at the sensitivity, legs aching more now than they were before.

“i hope it’s everything you wished for and more.”

*♡∞:｡.｡˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

paige is sassy and mean but what’s new??!

anyways, hope you enjoyed 😘

[illubean]

Could I get headcanons for Feitan, Illumi, Leorio, and Chrollo falling for gn!reader who by all means seems like a strong, nuturing, emotionally stable individual but every once in awhile casually says or does smthin that makes people go "Oh you're a little fuckin nuts, actually"

(e.x.: Most of their D.I.Y. furniture is made of different kinds of bone, morbidly interested in the more gorey parts of their jobs, probably works in a field that allows them to be around the dead often like a taxidermist or a mortitian, highkey just unabashashedly a morbid little freak™️ whenever it comes up naturally in conversation but otherwise comes across as just an attentive lil guy you could bring home the average parents would love.)

HXH Men with a Morbid!S/o

Characters: Leorio Paladaknight, Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor Type: Headcanons, Gn!reader

this is so me

Warnings: dead things and body parts and stuff

Leorio Paladaknight

being an aspiring doctor, Leorio thought that your knowledge on both human and animal anatomy was pretty useful

at first he didn't think much about your job and just assumed you were some type of doctor or biologist or something

he often asks you questions as he studies and you're a pretty good tutor

the first time Leorio realized you were kinda weird is when one day you were walking down the street and saw some roadkill

and you were like "aww too bad, the skin and bones are too damaged to harvest"

and you kept walking like it was normal while he was like ?!!??!?

or you guys were having a normal conversation and you say something like

"if you died i'd taxidermy you and re-articulate your skeleton so you'd be with me forever <3"

1 taxidermizing humans is illegal and 2 WHAT

he is cold sweating wtf did he get himself into

when he comes to your house for the first time and sees a bunch of bones, animal skins and wet specimens he damn near passes the fuck out

how do you just casually have dead things and remains around your house!?

AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU MADE YOUR COFFEE TABLE OUT OF CAMEL BONES?

he is freaking the fuck out and you're just like "dw everything is ethically sourced :D"

yeah he thinks you're a freak and he is too fearful to break up with you ever (not like he was planning to anyways)

Illumi Zoldyck

whatever drew Illumi to you had to have been some type of power

aside from that power, to Illumi you were relatively normal and had a good grip on your emotions which made you a perfect candidate

that being said he could care less what your job was, you'd just end up working for or with him eventually

when he started bringing you around the estate, you often sought out their guard dog Mike and Illumi couldn't think of why

that is until you came back one day with a human femur and bright smile on your face

"... where did you even get that?" "From one of Mike's victims. If I collect enough I could make a whole set of bar stools!"

he blinked at you and chose to ignore your statement

i mean, to each their own am i right?

so you have ah hobby, big deal

Illumi just thinks you're pretty normal personality wise until you randomly but casually drop information about what you do in your free time or have in your home

so now whenever he has a job Illumi calls you in for cleanup

you get to do.... whatever it is you do and there's no evidence of a dead body left behind, it's a win win

Chrollo Lucilfer

he couldn't care less what your job is because it's probably not worse than his 😭

he didn't really notice anything "morbid" about you until he asked about your jewlery

you wore things like resin caster bug pendants or bird skull earrings and stuff

he just assumed they were fake and you bought them because they looked badass

but then you told him you make it all YOURSELF

he is intrigued

he doesn't really question you past that because you were probably buying the bones and stuff somewhere (spoiler alert you're not)

what really caused him to think was when you casually just picked up a dead rat off the floor in some abandoned building you were exploring and suck it in your pocket

bro was so confused

"What do you need that for?" "To make a new necklace :3"

yeah now he knows that your odd taste in jewelry goes deeper than just that

he won't judge you though, if anything you're a better person than he is considering you don't kill things yourself

he is literally a murderer and a thief and has committed like 3467633788 crimes so he couldn't judge even if he wanted to

so now when he sees dead animals and what not he bags them up and brings them to you

he likes to sit in on your cleaning and making process

you seem like a perfectly normal and sweet person to everyone else but Chrollo knows about your freaky little hobby and it just makes him like you even more

Feitan Portor

I feel like for you and Feitan to even be acquainted you have to be part of the troupe

whatever you do outside of it is your business

buttttttt since you are his s/o and Feitan is probably homeless he crashes wherever you are

thus him finding out about your hobby and other job

out of everyone on this list he is the most interested

he too is a morbid little freak

he goes with you to find things and will help you with the cleaning/taxidermy or whatever process if you let him

what he doesn't understand though is why you don't just kill the things you want instead of hunting for already dead things

sometimes he will go catch like a squirrel or something and bring it back to you like a cat and tell you he found it like that

Fei baby. No the fuck you didn't

after doing what you're doing for so long you can tell what caused an animal to die but you wouldn't tell him that

he's just so cute and wants to be supportive of your hobby <3

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

Sup I’m back to feed you gremlins 

🏺⚔️💗Aphrodite Danny and Ares Phantom💗⚔️🏺

So if you’re been here long enough you’ll realize this as one of my first ever au and for some of my newer readers I’ll explain but before I do I just have to say Danny and Phantom are two very different people and now I can explain let’s go

After a few months after Danny being ‘Phantom’ Danny starts to feel… protective of himself???  Which is weird but ok it’s probably his imagination but over the course of a few weeks it gets weirder not bad weird but weird nonetheless like when he goes ghost it feels like he’s not really the one in control of his body and sometimes when the other ghosts get to rough with him he can hear a voice yell but not really being able to tell what its saying and Danny like Danny do is just kinda ignoring all this stuff because it feels nice..? Like being in a protective hug and knowing the person hugging you will kill for you if it makes you happy and all is well

and good until his parents see him transformed in to phantom they knock him out and bring him to their lab and after a few weeks jazz finds out what is happening ( Maddie and Jack told her that they had Danny go to something I didn’t really know what they would say ) And get him out of his restraints and turns on the portal or well try’s to because at that moment Maddie and Jack and a whole fight goes on well Danny is trying to get the portal working and Maddie unfortunately gets a good shot at Danny as he turns it on and causing him to get thrown in and it makes the portal ( that has enough energy to take out this universe ) and it does that exact thing it takes out Danny OG universe (✨ANGST✨ and not that Danny knows that right now ) considering Danny is knocked TF out again but this time it feels different like he unconsciously knows whatever is holding him will protect him with their whole core….

And Danny wakes up a few weeks later [ he really needs to stop passing out it’s starting to get annoying ] and looks around the room? Well it looks like a room it’s big and spacious it also looks a Greek temple bedroom with large marble pillars that indicate windows { you get the image} and now that Danny looks around he sees that his laying on a frankly to big bed and it has a large canopy with fabric as Danny looks around someone enters the room and leans against the wall and looks at Danny with a soft smile and as Danny looks in their direction he sees…Phantom but he looks different he’s wearing Greek style armor [and looking HOT in Danny’s eyes so he’s a blushing mess for a hot minute] and as he makes eye contact with Phantom it feels like he and Danny have known each other for as long as they’ve existed and a few shenanigans happen and would you look that that a couple who are deeply in love with each other.

And for what Danny and Phantom are they are the New Ancients of Love and Protection respectively {yes I’ve decided to change Danny to the Ancient of love}

And Now to what inspired this thing in the first place and that would be the God Games song it goes to hard anyway if you listened to it you can tell Athena has to convince the gods to let odysseus go and I thought “ what if I turned this into dc X dp and what tf is this??” Proceeds Down the rabbit hole that is pitch pearl and now you all have this word vomit I call a post and before I ramble even more let’s get to the DC part before this gets to long

Now for the DC part someone gets on the bad side of one of the Ancients and gets got and now the JL has to convince some of the Ancients you know like ( clockwork, frostbite, pandora etc) and of course Danny and phantom are there as the Aphrodite and ares part of the song. And that’s all I can think of the DC first the moment now on to the details of Danny and Phantom

For Danny I’m thinking something like this

Looking all majestic and shit ( also just imagine that his hair is black)

Also just a pic of phantom and Danny

They have the healthiest relationship you’ll ever see

And also if you want to make this as mom Danny you can have Dani and Dan as Phobos and Deimos just ima thought { forgot to add this in the beginning }

Anyway I hope you guys like this { P.S will add more if I feel like it} byeeee

[pirateprincessblog]

let me help

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: after giving birth and getting bored at home, you come back to work. nothing has changed, except the pair of eyes that look at you in a different light in the corner of the room. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: choi jongho x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: singlemother!reader, pervy!jongho, needy!reader, dom!jongho 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: milf!reader, breastplay, oral fixation, breastfeeding (LIKE TWO DROPS BEAR WITH ME), dry humping

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none? 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: this was so NOT inspired by a crazy reddit post i saw on tiktok lmao, also reader is not necessarily big boobed just imagine whatever u want

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

***

being pregnant is hard. giving birth is harder. raising an actual pocket sized human was supposed to be the hardest. yet there she is, your own child, sleeping in her crib without a single care in the world. it's been weeks since you gave birth now, and you don't know what you're doing right, but this baby might be the calmest baby in the world. almost always asleep, and when awake, laughing her ass off until she tires herself to sleep again.

frankly, you are bored. you were ready for crying, screaming, projectile fluids, messes, and whatnot. however, this child appears to be toying with you. it laughs in your face, almost as if mocking you for having to stay at home. besides sleeping, she eats quite well. your breasts are beginning to feel sensitive, but you're not complaining just yet, in case it gets worse.

"mom, i want to-" you start speaking one day, switching channels on the tv as the baby naps on your chest.

"hush! you're gonna wake her up!" the woman on the other couch whisper-yells at you.

"you did not just say that. she's passed out, look at her!" you gently pat her back, seeking a reaction. but when she only exhales in her sleep, you look at your mother with a raised eyebrow. "see? like a little drunkie."

"fine, fine. whatever. what did you want to say?"

"i want to go back to work."

"absolutely not."

"why not?!"

"you just had a baby!"

"yeah, weeks ago!"

the woman sighs, slapping her hands on her thighs in disbelief. "are you crazy?"

rolling your eyes, you sit up straight, picking the baby up and placing her on the blanket on the couch. she yawns in her sleep, and her small hands reach out to search for anything to grab on for comfort. she finds the ends of your sleeves, squeezing the fabric between her chubby fingers before dozing off again.

"mom, i honestly don't know what to do with myself anymore. i cleaned the house so many times for the past few weeks, as if i committed a crime and am trying to erase all the evidence. i have no desire for any hobbies or sports, i just want to go back to work. could you watch her for a few hours every now and then? it's not like it's every day."

just in time, your father enters the living room. seeing that he has helped himself to a bottle of beer your ex has left in the basement, you can't help but laugh.

"what is it?" he asks, noticing the difference in the energy of the room.

"your daughter wants to go back to work."

"oh, my! congratulati-"

"no! you're not supposed to be on her side." your mother slaps his shoulder, causing him to frown at her and gently push her off with that same shoulder.

"come on, mary. she's gonna die of boredom. besides, i'm sure she can adjust her schedule and shorten her working hours?"

you nod, feeling grateful that at least someone understands you. you don't give your mother a chance to protest, you wouldn't listen to her anyway. your fingers are already dialing the company, notifying them of your return.

***

your makeup and hair station awaits you just like you left it: the silly polaroids still taped on the corners of it, along with random bows and flowers. a small bouquet of fresh flowers awaits you, with an attached note and a baby store gift card.

𝓽𝓸 𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓪𝓿𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝔂𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽, 𝔀𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾!

𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓪𝓿𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓬𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼,

𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓮𝔃

soon after, you are bombarded with hugs and questions, first from the members then the staff.

"wow, i can't believe a whole baby came out of you! that's so weird."

wooyoung earns himself a smack to the back of his head for that, hongjoong and seonghwa looking at him disapprovingly. "you can't say that, you dumbass."

"what? that's incredible! did it hurt?"

"wooyoung, don't be so-"

"oh, it's fine. let him ask." you come to his defense. "it did hurt, like a bitch. my ex had a big head, you figure out the rest."

the rest of the day goes fast, boys enjoying asking you questions and telling you about what you've missed, and you happily answering those questions and praising them for their progress. one person doesn't speak to you, and instead chooses to sit in the corner of the room, scrolling on his phone. jongho has barely looked at you after giving you a hug and congratulating you, opting for silence instead of engaging in the conversation. you don't talk to him, instead giving him peace.

was he angry that you left? especially during an important time, when they grew as a group and needed as much help as possible? after all, you weren't only their stylist, you were there when they needed help, comforting and whatnot. you're probably the only one who knew of their crushes, secret short relationships and struggles. and you've all kept it that way for a long time, and they still trust you. not once have you betrayed their trust, and being older than them, it makes it easier for them to lay all their concerns in you.

you're sad that you weren't there to experience coachella with them, but they made sure to show you picture and videos, even gave you mingi's bucket hat that had an autograph of other coachella performers on it.

"oh, i can't take this." you try declining, shoving the hat back in mingi's hands.

"sure you can. just take it."

after going back and forth with him, you finally give up, taking the hat and placing it on the corner of the mirror, as if it was wearing it. one by one, they are done with their preparations and leave the room. there's still time until the show, yet the screaming outside is so loud one would think the boys went out already. jongho stays sitting on the couch, not giving you any attention. it gives you time to adjust your bra, your sensitive nipples rubbing against the fabric and giving you a hard time. you wish you could just take it off, but with your luck, you would lactate all over the place.

having a sundress on doesn't make it any easier, your flesh painfully starting to poke out of it. not only did you not fix the situation, you also caused them to become swollen and painful. you sigh, defeated. the only thing left to do is finish jongho quickly and go home. maybe your mother was right. what were you thinking, wearing the dress anyway? guess those oversized clothes during your pregnancy grew onto you. before, you wouldn't be caught dead in a hoodie or a simple t-shirt outside of your home.

"jjong?" you call once you prepare the station for him. when he doesn't reply, your raise your head to look at him through the mirror, and find him already staring at you. "jongho?"

he jolts, cheeks painted pink. "yes?"

"will you come over so i can finish you?"

"yeah, sure."

the young man sits in the chair, squirming for the most of the time. everything seems to go smoothly, until you have to get closer to do his eye makeup. just a hint of eyeliner and eyeshadow seems to be taking ages now, with jongho shuffling and blinking for a worrying amount of time.

"jongho, sweetheart, i need you to stay still if you want to be out of here soon."

by the time he listens, the liquid liner has dried off on the brush, and you turn around to reach into the black bottle to reapply it. a sharp pain goes through one of your breasts, causing you to yelp and drop the brush and spill the bottle all over the counter. jongho opens his eyes, then sits up straight, worry painted on his features.

"are you okay?"

"yeah, just- give me a second."

you hold onto your breasts, back turned to him. still in pain, you don't care if he sees what you're doing. all you want is for it to stop.

"does it... hurt?" he asks carefully, peeking at you through the mirror.

you hum, gently squeezing them in hopes to relieve it.

"can i help in any way?"

"no, there's not much you can do. unless you want to be breastfed so my milk ducts get unclogged." you laugh awkwardly, eyes still fixed on the mess you've created on the counter.

when you don't hear any laughing from his side, you turn around, only to find him dead serious. you stutter, embarrassment flooding your cheeks as you realize you can't really joke about these things with them. after all, they are your clients.

"sorry, didn't mean to make you uncomfort-"

"i'll do it."

at that moment, the door opens, san poking his head through. "hey dude, there's like only a handful of snacks left for you, you better hurry up."

"it's fine." jongho replies, as calm as ever.

you still stand there, processing what he said. san shrugs, then the door closes again, and the man in front of you has his full attention on you.

"will that help relieve the pain?"

"i mean- i- i usually just breastfeed my daughter and it goes away. i could try pumping-"

"i'll help." he is persistent, still maintaining a poker face. it makes you lower your gaze, eyes fixed on his hands resting in his lap. he makes it so difficult to read his emotions.

"jongho, you- you can't be saying stuff like that."

you've never stuttered like this in front of anyone. not even your ex husband had you feeling this nervous under his gaze, not at the beginning of your relationship, not at the end. not ever. yet choi jongho looks at you so intensely, making your cheeks hot and your brain a mess.

"let me just finish you off quickly and then i can go home and solve the issue."

the man sits there for a few seconds, biting the inside of his cheek. he looks at your hands, still cupping your breasts, and without a word leaves his chair.

"wait, where are you-"

he locks the door, then tries it a few times to make sure nobody can get in. you stand still, afraid to move or say anything. not until he does something. he seems to take a few moments to think about the situation he has created. he said it so causally. just what was going on in his mind?

is the new state you're in doing something to him? is that why he was refusing to interact with you?

"jongho, just get back in the chair so you can be a free man. come on."

"no. i want to help."

"fine. what, do you want me to just whip out my tits and let you do whatever to them?" you roll your eyes, avoiding to look at him.

you miss the way he smirks, and only look at him once he sits back on the chair in front of you. you yelp, hands flying to his shoulders as he pulls you to sit on his lap. there is more than just wanting to help, you're sure of it now.

his fingers toy with the outline of your sundress, knuckles caressing the swollen flesh along the way. you can't help but shiver, hands still firmly planted on his shoulders.

"sit," he orders quietly, once he notices you're hovering over his lap. when you fail to listen, he pushes you down, right on his hard crotch. "may i?"

you nod, hurriedly, as if he will change his mind if you take too long. you haven't been touched, not even by yourself, for months. ever since your husband left you, right at the beginning of your pregnancy, you were constantly nervous, sick, and whatnot. pleasure was the last thing on your mind. and even though jongho is trying to do a nice thing, your brain cannot help but think of it as a sexual interaction.

which is why you are dripping already, his fingers barely touching you as he unties the little bow that holds the front of the sundress together. he looks at your plain white bra, and both of your realize just how perfect of a choice you made for today. in hooks in the front, and it takes jongho less than a second to unhook it with a single hand.

your swollen breasts now freely spill from the loose fabric, freeing your sensitive and swollen nipples that are begging for release. the dark haired man cups them, gently kneading as if he does that every day. he doesn't squeeze them, and you are thankful that he knows what he is doing. and impressed.

his thumbs swipe over your nipples, and a hiss escapes your mouth.

"hurts?"

you nod, face twisting with pain as he tests the waters and tries various motions on them.

"they're... bigger." he comments.

"yeah... i'm quite sad i don't get to keep them."

he chuckles, and so do you, finally feeling a little relaxed. nothing about your current state should make you relaxed. you should be jumping off that chair, finish his look at go home. not...  subconsciously dry hump him.

"you know, i thought my crush on you would go away when you got married. it didn't. i thought it would go away when you got pregnant. it didn't. i thought it would for sure go away when you gave birth. and guess what? it only got worse."

with your jaw dropped, all you can do is stare at him. so there was a hidden motive after all.

"i'm going to put it in my mouth now. is that okay?"

"jongho, none of this is okay." you say, your brain working against your heart. and your pussy.

"it's fine. i'm just helping you. that's all."

"yeah, well, putting my nipple in your mouth isn't what one might consider help- oh!" he swipes his tongue over the hardened nipple, finally making you shut up.

his hand cups your breast, gently squeezing it before he attaches his lips to it. your hands instinctively grab at his hair, almost shoving his head into your chest. he chuckles, enjoying how desperate you are when he hasn't done anything properly yet.

your hips grind on his, and you aren't aware of it until the surface beneath you gets harder and harder. jongho grunts against your chest when you roll your hips properly, and it makes you stop. you try pushing him away, ready to start apologizing over and over again. but jongho simply lets go of your breasts, only to put his hands on your ass and help you roll your hips again.

his lips finally start sucking on the tense bud, causing you to yelp in pain. he squeezes your ass, as a way to comfort you. his tongue swipes over your nipple every now and then between sucking, just to soothe you. one hand cups your breast again, gently squeezing it in hopes that it will help.

this time, he is the one to yelp. you look down, embarrassment flooding your cheeks once again. your fingers have tangled themselves in his dark locks, accidentally pulling a bit harder and causing him pain.

"it's alright," he assures, smiling at you. "should i continue?"

"yes, please."

he wraps his lips around the nipple once again, sucking softly. the sight has your panties drenched; your client sitting on your chair, sucking on your tit, while you hold onto him for dear life and grind on him. the rough fabric of his jeans, combined with the fabric of your underwear, deliciously rubs against your clit, causing the pleasure to start building up in your lower stomach. you've almost forgotten about the pain, jongho's now swollen lips kissing and tugging at both of your nipples, and your crotch getting all the attention.

you no longer care about being quiet, moans and gasps shamelessly multiplying and getting louder, hips working relentlessly and fingers tugging his hair. never getting this close before, you force yourself to stop and pull away from him.

"what, what is it?" he asks, shiny eyes looking up at you.

"nothing, i-" you look down, picking the hem of your dress up and revealing a wet spot on his crotch. "i'm going to... you know."

it feels illegal to say the word.

"cum?" he finishes for you.

"yes."

"why did you stop?"

you sigh. your hands caress his cheeks and hair, fixing his messy state. "it's been a while. i don't want to cum with my clothes on. on my client's lap."

jongho takes a moment to think. you find out that it is not a good thing to let him do that. he picks you up, carrying you all the way to the couch where he sat. you find yourself laying on the soft surface, while jongho places a pillow under your head, and one under your lower back.

"can you hold this here for me?" he scrunches the ends of your dress under your chest, and you listen. "do you feel any better?"

"i mean... it's still clogged. maybe try a little harder?"

he takes it as a challenge, almost jumping on you like a starved animal. your hands now grip at the fabric on his back, nails digging into it. he doesn't protest, instead burying his head further into your chest and leaving a few feathery kisses before he takes your breast in his mouth again. just as you asked, he sucks harder. it hurts, more than before. your moans turn into whines and almost sobs, fingers hopelessly clawing at his back but not yet asking him to stop. tears threaten to spill down your cheeks, and you can barely contain them.

the man uses his hand to massage the other breast, caressing it, and the other to spread your legs so he can fit between them better. instead of going back to cup the breast he is currently working on, he slides it up your thigh, all the was to the outline of your panties. he pushes them aside, then gently brings his fingers to your folds.

"you don't- ah!" he finds your clit, giving it an experimental rub, "you don't have to do that."

"i want to." he mumbles, voice lower and raspier than you've ever heard from him before. sensing that you have stopped breathing for a second, jongho looks up at you, mouth still wrapped around your sensitive bud. he only raises and eyebrow and smirks against you, before continuing his actions, eyes not once leaving yours.

you weren't a fan of keeping your eyes open during sexual encounters. your husband didn't care. but this? jongho seems to be aware of the power his stare holds, mostly because his fingers effortlessly slip past your folds and inside your aching hole. you can't find it in yourself to look away, too lost in the way his lips look on you, and his body fits between your legs.

"harder-" you whine. "suck harder."

he hums, sucking harder and harder, while his fingers slowly start abusing your hole. he graces you with deep strokes, knuckles disappearing inside of you and fingers scissoring. the room is filled with squelching, kissing and sucking noises, along with your shallow breathing and a few moans and yelps. his thumb finds your clit once again, rubbing it as he continues fingering you. a tingling sensation appears in your lower stomach again, this time faster and stronger.

"jjong-" you gasp, liquid spilling from your breast and in his mouth. "fuck!"

he turns to the other one, repeating the process, all while his hand inches you closer and closer to the release you haven't tasted in months. white liquid drips down both of your breasts, nipples now more tense than ever.

he grunts along with you, grinding his hips on your leg. the man doesn't waste a single moment before licking away all the liquid that decorates your shaking body. the sight sends you over the edge, along with his fingers in your hole and his soft panting.

with your head thrown back over the edge of the couch, you find your body twitching as waves of pleasure wash over your body. even after jongho is done cleaning your mess that he caused, you have trouble catching your breath and calming yourself.

"hey, hey. i got you." he speaks softly, cupping your face.

he looks at you with different eyes now; soft and caring. a complete opposite of the lustful and intense one you just saw moments ago.

"feeling better?"

you nod, gulping. "i- thank you?"

he laughs, then plants a kiss on your forehead. "thank you."

"what for?"

"for making my fantasy come true."

"you're crazy," you laugh.

"for you, yes. now, let me help you get cleaned and dressed, so i can feel like i have shred of dignity before i ask you out."

"i- oh. but wait, what about you? did you...?"

he stands up, giving you space to stretch your limbs. he reveals a wet patch on his crotch, and not the one you made. "yeah... no sane man could survive this without cumming in his pants. you can't blame me."