#my issue is the fact that their whole job is to find and fix these mistakes and they're not doing it

[crimsonblackrose]

The amount of dumb mistakes I'm finding this week is...mind boggling. Like, I thought the whole point was not to overwork everyone because as my boss said "holding everyone accountable by numbers (how many tasks they got done in an hour/15 mins ect) is childish" and we learned the hard way that rushing quantity over quality screwed everything over. (even though the head of the department and every boss said we weren't doing that that quality was king even though in practice it was a lie) And yet...every full time employee has left glaring errors in their stuff this week.

[aboutchriss]

Physiotherapy and coconut oil.

Just a thought on this

Pairing: idol!Chan x fem!reader.

Genre: fluff, crack maybe??, friends/co-workers to?

Warnings: make out session, half naked Chan?????, mention of handjob, handjob, mention of anger issues, dry humping, mention of food and alcohol, mention of dom!chan, sub!chan, softdom!reader, let me know if I miss something. DO NOT USE COCONUT OIL ON YOUR PRIVATE AREAS!!

Author note: we need to talk about this outfit, I know that I'm late but bro, look at him, his stupid boobs, and arms, and abs? I'm on my knees, hair in a ponytail, ready to do my job. why? because I'm a whore for this man, also his physiotherapist is lucky as fuck, I mean he or she or they can touch this man, without anything on...I’m too tired and lazy so not proofread

(the recipe of the pasta mentioned in the story is here especially for my vegetarian and lactose free friends 💅🏼)

Also fun fact: being a physiotherapist is my dream job and this makes me way too much delulu.

-✉️

I’m so insecure about my English, as I said it’s not my first language and I’m always scared to make mistakes or stuff like that, so if you find mistakes please let me know, I’ll be thankful and also my English will improve!

-✉️

As always requests are open!💘

A knock from the door of your little studio call your attention

“C’mon in, the door is open”

You say, closing your laptop to pay attention to him

A head covered with a black beanie and a smile with a pair of dimples appeared at your door.

“Hello, my beautiful, amazing wonderful y/n, the sun is shining, the birds are singing and-“

“What did you do?”

You cut him off

He close the door behind his back

“Let’s say that hypothetically I went to the gym”

He sits right in front of you

“Mh, you do it every day, what’s the problem?”

He giggles a little

“You know last time that we saw each other?”

He asks

“Yeah, umh Wednesday?”

“Mhmh, and what you did to me?”

“The-what? The usual massage? Back, neck, thigh, basically the whole body”

“Exactly, and you know that I was mad because of that little thing that I won't bring it up again?”

“Yes, what’s the problem Chan? I have a lot of things to do”

“Iwenttothegymrightafteroursession”

“Excuse me, what?”

You asked confused

“I-uh- don’t get mad please, you know that I love you, we are friends right? Your hair looks pretty today”

You look at him, raising your eyebrows waiting for the real answer

“I went to the gym, right after our session, and I lifted a couple weights, and umh- I heard a crack on my neck, but now everything hurts, so can you please fix me?”

“YOU DID WHAT?”

you raise your voice

“I’m sorry I was mad”

“Christopher”

You say

“Not the government name please, you scare the shit out of me when you call me ChRiStoPheR. And I know okay? You have all the rights to be mad at me, I’m sorry, but I was about to explode, my options were the gym or the big boss face”

“Take off your shirt”

You sight

“I love when you say that”

“Shut up, before I punch you in the face”

You say

“Rude”

He says

“Stupid”

You stand up and search on the little cabinet everything you need for the massage

“I’m sorry”

He looks at you

“It’s okay Chan. But when I tell you to rest after our sessions it’s because I mean it, it’s part of the healing process. Even Changbin listens to me, and you, more than me know that he’s a gym rat.”

“I know, I’m sorry I was just-“

“Overwhelmed?"

“Yes”

He says taking off his shirt

“You know that you can talk to me right? I’m not just here to fix y’all muscles, I’m a friend. You can call me, anytime, you say “y/n I had a bad day can we talk?”. 5 minutes walk and I’m at your dorm, and you know it Channie.”

Your tone is sweeter now

“It was three in the morning y/n, I- I didn’t want to wake you up, I’m a man, I can’t-“

“So sweet of you to think that I sleep at three. and Channie yes, you’re a man and you’re human and as a human you have emotions, it’s okay to feel overwhelmed sometimes or mad, sad, angry, emotionless, it’s totally fine, if you feel like you're about to explode than you need to talk"

He looks at you, silently

"you can call, or FaceTime me if you don't want me around, we don't need to talk about what's upsetting you, but you can't be alone with your thoughts"

"didn't know that you were this sweet you know?"

"I'm not sweet"

"mhmm, you're right you're more like a mom"

he smiles at you

“What? I’m younger than you”

“Meh, just a couple of years”

He says smiling

“C’mon, don’t stare at me like a little puppy, and put away the damn dimples, with those abs you look everything but cute”

“Oh yeah?”

“Shut up and lay on your stomach”

“Mhhhh, okay okay”

He lays down, giving a full view of his back, wider than when the two of you met, if you had him as a friend with benefits (for your studies of course) during your anatomy exam, you would probably have had the best score of the class.

As soon as your hands touch his back he twitches

“Ah fuck”

“I barely touched you”

You say

“Your hands are fucking cold y/n, where did you keep them inside the freezer?”

“God, you scared me. Don’t be a pussy, they will warm up, I promise”

You say touching him again

“Mhhhhh -he cries- usually you don’t have cold hands”

He says

“Because you’re the last one that I treat, I.N always get my cold hands, and he got used to it”

“Oh poor I.N, he-ah he has-ah to get through this”

“Stop whimpering”

“I’m not whimpering”

“Yes, you are”

“No, I’m-ah not”

“See, you’re a whimper man”

You say massaging the lower part of his back

"I'm not-ah-fuck"

"next time, if I say that you have to rest, go home, take a warm shower, eat something, and go to bed, you're lucky that you don't have a fever"

you slap his back

"aah what's wrong with you?"

"you're an asshole, and you act like a child"

you slap him again

"stop slapping me"

he says sitting down on the small massage bed

"no"

you slap him again

"oh my god stop it"

"no - you slap his chest - you know that you could've hurt your self huh? you and your stupid anger issues - you slap once again - what you were trying to gain to stupid bitch?"

"stop slapping me"

he says blocking your wrists

"I said I'm sorry, next time if I'll feel overwhelmed I'll call you okay? just bring soju with you"

"soju? wanna get drunk?"

you ask trying to escape from his grip

"fuck yes, I need to get drunk"

"I'll buy soju on my way home and you can come over okay?"

"you’re inviting me in your house?"

he asks, caressing your wrists with his thumb

"yeah, you know no boys around so we can talk freely, and I'll make dinner"

"mh...okay then"

he says smiling, showing once again his stupid dimples

"now, let me finish my job okay? go home, take a warm shower and then come over"

"okay mom"

"don't"

you try to hide a smile

"now lay down"

he stares at you

"please?"

you say, and this bitch lays down, just because you said please? fuck it's going to be looong night

"try not to whimper this time okay?"

you whisper near his hear

"I'll try, ma'am"

-

you just got out of the shower when you hear the doorbell

"SHIT, WAIT GIVE ME A SECOND"

you scream, trying to dress yourself as fast as you can, not thinking about who's your guest, but honestly you don't give a fuck, you're in your own house and it's summer, that's what you think trying to justify your shorts and tank top

"Hi Channie, I'm sorry I made you wait, come in"

"Oh, Hei no worries it's my fault, I should've texted you"

he says taking off his shoes before getting inside

"I wouldn't answered you, my phone died at work, and I was so late that the moment I came home, I prepared the sauce for the pasta and I jumped into the shower"

"no worries -he giggles- wanna help with dinner while you dry your hair?”

"oh no, stay away from my kitchen, set the table and open the red wine that you find in the counter"

"yes ma'am"

he says

"damn, this wine looks good where did you get it?"

"oh-my mom send a bunch of stuff from Italy to me, so I don't get homesick"

you say stirring the sauce

"stuff like alcohol?"

"yes, and food"

you laugh

"sooo much food, the best that I can do is sharing, you know sharing is caring"

"and what are you making tonight?"

he says looking over your shoulders

"mh, pasta all'arrabbiata"

"i have no idea of what it is but sounds good, also I've never heard you talking in italian, sounds sexy"

"CHAN"

"WHAT"

"stop it"

you say turning towards him

"what I'm not doing anything"

"you're flirting"

you say

"flirting? I don't know what flirting is"

he says with a smile on his face

"oh put those dimples away"

you say turning to the kitchen counter, checking if the pasta is ready, or maybe you don't want to show him your cheeks getting redder

"we can sit, while we wait for the pasta”

you say walking towards him

“wanna a glass of wine?"

"please, yes"

you say almost disparately, he pours two BIG glasses of wine

"cheers, to the best physiotherapist ever"

"to the most stubborn person I know, who can't listen"

you say looking him in the eyes

"cheers Chan"

"cheers y/n"

"so you think I'm stubborn huh?"

"oh yeah, definitely"

"why?"

he asks sipping his wine

"why what? why I think you're a stubborn?"

he nods

"you don't listen to people who care about you? and you do almost everything without thinking? and you think you're invicible, you try to keep everything on your shoulders forgetting that you're a human? mh yes, you're a stubborn"

"damn, you can't lie huh?"

"nope"

you say sipping some wine

"can I check the pasta or you're going to kill me?"

"no, I'll check it, in my house guests don't make dinner"

"mh, can I come here more often?"

he asks giggling

"of course, the door is always open for you...I mean you guys, you know, you and the boys, all of them"

you get up, slapping mentally your face

what the fuck y/n behave yourself, he's just a friend. A hot one tho, but just a friend.

thanks God the pasta is ready, you mix it with the sauce and then pour it in two plates

"here we go"

you say sitting next to Chan, he waits for you, and after you take the first bite, he starts eating with you

“You need something else?”

"absholutely noth, thish ish perfect"

he says with his mouth full of pasta, you smile at this sight of him, without his working dark aura. People says that he's scary as fuck when he's working, and they mean it, he change completely, especially when he is in the studio, it's like an alter ego (we can call it Christopher yeah)

"so...you like it?"

you ask taking a bite a food

"yesh -he swallows- I want you to come at the dorm and cook for me...I mean us everyday, oh you should do a cooking competition with Lee Know, I would probably die because the good food but it would be a great death"

you laugh

"it's called food coma"

"really?"

he asks

"mhmm, try my nonna's food then we can talk about food coma"

"nonna is...?"

"oh, my grandma, she is a great chef"

"then I have to meet her"

he says finishing his plate

"in order to meet her you have to go to Italy, also she doesn't speak a word of English or Korean so you have to learn Italian"

"for good food? I'll do everything. You can be my teacher, I'm sure that you know how to speak it"

"me? your teacher?"

"yes"

"why me?"

"because you can speak Italian and I want to spend more time with you"

you choke on wine

"you what?"

you try to speak between the cough

"you okay?"

he asks patting gently your back

"yes, I'm okay, thanks. You really mean it?"

you ask

"what?"

"that you want to spend more time with me"

"yes, and I don't mean at the studio. I want to know you better as a friend, as a person"

"fuck Chan"

you get up, taking both of the plates to wash it

"fuck Chan what?"

he follows you at the sink

"we can't, you-you can't know me better"

"why not?"

he asks shrugging his shoulders

"because-I can't"

"mh? you have a boyfriend in Italy?"

"no"

"then why I can't know you better?"

"my...my contract, I signed a contract when the company hired me"

"and?"

he asks

"I can't have anything with my patients, and you're one of them"

you say looking at him

"where is the problem? -he asks- we're not at the company, we're just two friends who had dinner together, with some wine"

he says getting closer to you

"Chan please...don't"

"what? I'm not doing anything"

he says

"I know, it's me, I'm the problem, I don't know if I can contain my self right now, not after what you said"

"then do it, don't contain your self"

"this-you move your hands between your bodies-won't happened ever again"

"I can't make this promise"

he traps you with his arms between his body and the sink

"fuck Chan"

you say before kissing him on the lips, they’re so soft and you fucking knew it.

“We shouldn’t do that”

You say in between the kisses

“Shut up”

He says lifting you up, your legs locked behind his back

“Fuck-fuck-fuck it’s cold”

You say when your ass touch the marble of the kitchen counter, he giggling in your lips. Hands on his curls, pulling almost too roughly but he doesn’t seem to mind it

“That’s the revenge for the massage with your stupid cold hands”

“Yeah? If this the revenge that i get I’ll switch your turn with I.N so you’ll have my cold hands on your body everyday”

You say kissing his neck, way too roughly, biting and sucking his soft skin. For sure he’s going to have marks all over his neck tomorrow, but there’s make up to cover it up right?

“Sofa, please”

You say looking in his eyes

“Fuck I love when you beg, it turns me on”

He says picking up by your thighs, walking to the small sofa in your living room.

“You get turned on easily huh?”

“Shut up, I bet that you’re wet since I came into your house”

He says sitting on the couch, your legs on each side of him

“I’m always wet when your around”

“Yeah? So many lost opportunities for my dick”

He says pouting, placing his hands on your ass

“None of my business”

You say smiling, kissing his lips again and again, his tongue sliding inside your mouth, so gently and sweet, he taste like good wine, and you feel you can almost get drunk just with his tongue (maybe you’re already are)

“Stop grinding on my dick or i will fuck you in this small sofa”

“Such a dirty mouth Christopher”

You say grinding on him once more

“Mmhph please don’t use that name”

“Why not whimper man?”

You say placing your hands on his abs

“Your accent, I don’t know it’s just, I don’t know”

“Wow, you have clear ideas”

You laugh getting more comfortable on his lap, even if there’s something hard hat almost bothers you.

“You know what I’ve been thinking the whole day? At the studio, in the shower, even while I was in the car to come here”

“What?”

“Your hands, and that thing that you said to me”

“Mh?”

You’re confused, trying to understand what his talking about

“Your handjobs”

“Ooooh that, why? I mean it’s just a handjob”

You say shrugging your shoulders

“Yeah but why they’re so special?”

“Oh you wanna know the key huh?”

He nods looking at you

“My job”

“They teach you how to do-“

“Nonono”

You laugh shaking your hands

“Because of my job I have to use a lot of massage oil, coconut oil and stuff like that, so my hands are soft”

“Oooh so that’s the key”

“Yeah, some love, and coconut oil or lube”

“So that’s why you smell like coconut”

You laugh

“Yes, but I have a question”

“What’s up?”

He asks

“Wanna try?”

“What?”

You look at him

“Oooh that? I-I mean if you want to”

“I’m asking for your consent Chris, I’ve teased you enough today”

You laugh

“You think? I’ve been hard the whole day, my balls might be turned blue, so it’s a yes”

“Give me a second okay?”

You leave a kiss on his lips and go to your bed room searching for the coconut oil (that of course it’s in your bed side table for scientific purposes👀) you glance quickly your self in the mirror and you’re a mess, but don’t mind it.

“Here I am”

You say, sitting once again on his lap

“Let me warm you up a little more yeah?”

You say kissing his lips way more roughly than the first time, and a moan slips into your mouth

“Here you are my favorite whimper boy”

You say grinding your hips on him

“Mhhphf, I’m not whimpering, it’s just that- it’s the first time that someone - I’m the one who’s on top usually”

“Uuuh we have a dom here mh? Interesting, but let me be the one in control tonight yeah?”

“Please…y/n it hurts please do something”

He says in a desperate tone, kissing you so roughly that your lips are going to be swollen tomorrow

You work with his pants, taking out his warm and hard cock, that is leaking pre-cum liquid

“So needy”

You look at him in the eyes, you open the little jar and squeeze it a couple of drops drop in your dominant hand

“Can I?”

“Yes, please y/n please”

You slowly trace you fingertips around the head of his dick, spreading the pre cum liquid, making his dick slippery.

You wrap your hand around his dick, stroking it up and down so slowly that he looks so desperate.

“God- Please move, this is so frustrating”

He says placing his hands on top of yours

“Ah-ah put this hands behind your back, you can’t touch it”

“But it’s my cock”

He says arguing

“You have two options, you can place your hands behind you back and let me do my job, or I can tie you up so can’t move at all”

You say still stroking his dick

“No, no okay, I’ll put them behind my back”

“Such a good boy”

You kiss his lips, a deep moan sleeping out of his mouth. You place your hand on the base of his dick, using a tighter grip then before, moving it up and down paying attention to his head and to the most sensitive part of it.

“Mhhphf-fuck”

You keep moving your hand on him, and you know that he’s close by the way he move his body, the way he breathe, and the way he’s looking at you, his hands on your ass has a tighter grip now

“Fuck, I’m about to cum, please, please don’t stop.”

And of course you don’t stop, you already played too much with him, you stroke his cock faster now and he cums, a warm load of white and thick liquid running down his dick. You lick your fingers smiling, his head resting on your shoulder.

“Fuck”

He giggles

“What-who are you? Jesus Christ I’m-”

You giggle with him

“Now I’ll have a boner every time you treat me at the studio, you and your stupid coconut oil”

You laugh louder now, knowing that it’s not a joke.

“You laughing at me?”

He asks looking at you

“Yeah, maybe”

You shrug your shoulders

“Right…let me see if you can handle Christopher, yeah?”

He gets up, picking you up on one of his shoulders

“Waaaaa, what does this mean? Chaaaaan put me down”

“Ahah, Chan is not available at the moment call him later”

He says picking up that stupid coconut oil and walking away from the couch

“Now, tell me where is your bed room”

-

-

A/N: I think this is my first real smut, uhm this is so embarrassing, imma eclisse my self bye love you

[wyvernest]

would you be able to write something about chubby!reader having body issues and thinks she doesn’t deserve miguel because he’s so sculpted and beautiful, but miguel reminds her how perfect she is? (in whatever way you think is best)

i just love reading these types of fics and they really help boost my confidence 🥹

tysm! <3

hope you like it<3

aphrodite

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

warnings: fluff, established relationship, body dysmorphia

summary: you start feeling self conscious right before your date, and miguel isn't having any of it

translations are at the end

Miguel had finally made time to take you out. You are well aware of the fact that he is a busy man, and had decided against pressuring him to abandon his work overtime.

But tonight was for you. He had planned out the perfect date, from the restaurant, reservations, to the tiniest details; what day would be best in terms of weather, your job, and his duties. 

To say you were overwhelmed with excitement was an understatement. He had always been so caring and considerate, looking for ways to make you feel valued and appreciated even when time itself stood against his efforts. Finding unadulterated joy in asking you out like it was your first time getting closer to each other over and over again, the 'honeymoon phase' spark never once leaving your relationship, contrary to popular belief.

And so here you are, in your shared home, getting ready for yet another date with the most handsome man you've ever seen. 

He's already fully dressed, fixing himself in the mirror. His black suit sits oh-so perfectly on him, hugging the shape of his large back and shoulders, tight enough around his biceps, so that they still bulge through the material when he brings a hand up in his hair to tame some dark strands that had fallen out of place. It accentuates the line of his abdomen, having his large thighs finish off the whole look. 

He stands in front of the bedroom mirror, in his striking royal height, the man that ancient Greeks probably had as a muse when they sculpted the ideals of the male body. His dark, cocoa brown hair is brushed back, silky and soft. His perfectly contoured face is dimly lit by the low, warm bedroom lights, his features prominent: the bridge and line of his nose, squinted piercing eyes along with a downright intimidating set of brows His sharp jaw is held up high while he works with his tie, expert hands skillfully experimenting around an array of various knots, pondering upon which fits best.

He truly is quite the sight, you melt at the tableau before you, holding back a sigh seasoned with nothing but the very heights of being irrevocably enamoured.

His whole presence screams strength and mature dominance, with a hint of incontestable luxury.

Resuming your own outfit, your own body still only adorned in nothing but a pair of panties and a bra, you head to the closet for the one dress you have been imagining yourself in for the whole week since he offered you the invitation. You couldn’t be more excited to finally try it on and admire yourself with it, have people look your way while wearing it, with an arm hooked around the one and only Miguel O’Hara. 

Putting it on and adjusting its stretchy fabric over your curves, your smile starts to fade. This isn’t what it looked like the first time I tried it on, you mentally conclude, and the more you look at it, the more things you wish you hadn’t noticed. You pull at the material, the hem, the sides, the neckline, anything you can think of that maybe, just maybe, could fix it. Panic starts to drip into your nerves, what will you do now if it just won’t look good? Screw it and go out with it anyway, and then feel all eyes on you for the rest of the evening? What will people think when they see you, merely decent, next to him? And otherwise, what other option is there? To pick some other dress that can’t possibly be more appropriate for the occasion, since you had bought this one specifically for the place you’re going, and still not look the part?

Your breathing starts to quicken as you keep fumbling with the textile around your shape, attention half directed to the open wardrobe, scanning every shelf and hanger for a second option. 

Suddenly, the floor creaks, bringing the echo of incoming footsteps. And there he is, standing behind you, hands on your tense shoulders. You almost despise the image before you; his impeccable, calm and stoic image, next to you, discouraged and deeply insecure in evident comparison.

“What were you thinking about just now?” his words river down over the shell of your ear on a hot breath that has shivers shot down your spine.

“Nothing, I’m getting ready”, you cover it up in a sing-song voice, not wanting to dig deeper into letting him know that you don’t deem yourself pretty enough for him, let alone expect him to find you more attractive than you do yourself. Unfortunately, he’s too smart for your little diversion.

“Don’t lie to me.”, his tone serious, voice deep. His eyes rank up and down your body in the mirror, and you feel an acute need to just disappear. “Que guapa.”

He presses a kiss to your temple, and you feel rosy heat rise to your face.

Your mouth speaks before you think.

“Does it look good?”, he senses the hesitancy in your voice.

“Baby, you’d look like a goddess wearing a potato sack.” he speaks matter-of-factly, as if his statement equals water is wet, the honesty in his declaration evident with the speed with which the words left his mouth. You can’t help but let a giggle break through your disconcerted face, surprised with the association.

“What, like Marilyn Monroe?”

“No, mi alma, like you.” He wraps his arms around your middle, pulling you back into his embrace as you look at eachother in the reflection before you. His expression softens, visibly relaxed and happy to have you close to him. 

“These curves, every part of you, I know them as I know myself.” His palms slide over your hips, and all the way back up to your shoulders, effectively chasing away any hint of doubt and worry, cleansing you of anything that isn’t love.

“Eres la mujer de mis sueños.” He bends down, his lips reaching the crook of your neck. “No hay nadie como tú."

You let yourself fall back into his tempting embrace, knowing that he’s exploiting your weakness for him speaking Spanish so low and deep into the vulnerable skin of your pulse point, completely forgetting about the date and the dress. 

“And if you don’t like the dress, I’ll gladly rip it off.” He exhibits his talons as a warning, the curved edges of the claws grazing your bare shoulders intently. “If anything, the dress isn’t good enough to be worn by you.”

translations:

que guapa - how beautiful

mi alma - my soul

eres la mujer de mis sueños - you're the woman of my dreams

no hay nadie como tú - there is no one like you

a/n: again, if any native speakers see anything wrong with my Spanish please let me know🤍

[leidensygdom]

Okay, I will try to explain this topic as well as I can. I will preface this with the fact this comes from personal experiences, and that they may not apply for everyone who has ties to this culture, but let's get to it:

What's the issue with Fortune tellers / "Exotic" circus performers, sexualized belly dancers and other forms of orientalism/Romani depictions?

So, as someone in the TTRPG world (specifically, the DnD community), this sort of trope is seen quite a lot. From the portrayal of Vistani (which has been tried to be fixed, but not... too well), to player characters in home games, as well as popular canon characters and podcasts, it's got quite normalized. Most of these tropes are based on Romani, which is a widespread ethnicity present all across the globe. Now, it feels almost strange to call it orientalism, given how Romani have been in Europe since the Middle Ages, even though they do have roots outside of Europe.

Romani face one of the biggest diaspora in the world: You will find Roma people under many names in very different countries, with cultures and traditions that can clash heavily. Their numbers can range from few hundred in some countries, to over a million in those they have a biggest presence. My own experience is tied to Spanish Roma, known as Gitanos, which is where my mother's side family comes from.

Gitanos are a widespread group, although they're most numerous in the southern part of Spain, Andalusia, where their presence has shaped the culture. Flamenco is thought to have been born from Gitano culture, and it has been adopted as a staple of the Andalusian identity, and the whole of Spain. Gitanos are hard to understand as their own ethnicity in Spain: There's been centuries of Gitanos and Spanish people mixing, and the average Andalusian is quite tan to start with (given Muslim presence there has also been pretty firm). It means it can be hard to "clock" a Spanish Romani person from a non-Romani one. It means you can find Romani people most would consider white, at least by Spanish standards. Most of the discrimination Gitanos face is cultural (and the whole ordeal can be a bit harder to explain from a more US-centric view).

Now, even when Gitanos have influenced Spanish culture a lot, they still face plenty of discrimination. They are one of the most marginalized groups out there. Laws have discriminated against them for centuries, on and off, which have put them in poverty. And poverty often develops into criminality, which has only seeded the idea that Gitanos are criminals, "lowlies", the bottom of society, "uncivilized", etc. Now, here comes a bit of my own experience with this.

My entire family is Andalusian, but both sides moved from there (the south) to Catalonia (north-east) in order to find a job during the Francoist (fascist) dictatorship. I won't get much into the specifics of the Catalan vs Andalusian beef because that's a bit of a massive topic too, but the important thing here is: My mother's side is Romani. My grandma faced some horrifying forms of discrimination, including the theft of her first child during the fascist dictatorship, which was taken from her by nuns (who ran hospitals at the time) to be placed into a "proper" family. (This is something that happened repeatedly at some hospitals during these times).

Now, she had two other children: My mother and my aunt. My aunt remained closely knit to Romani culture, and took part in it, which included marrying a Romani guy. She always did her best efforts to be part of it. I know she was into some culturally-related dances, which included some forms of bellydancing (which is also partially tied to Roma culture). But my mother decided she'd rather cut ties with her culture and become "civilised", by abandoning said culture.

This isn't too uncommon for Gitanos, to be honest. I've met a few people who come from similar backgrounds through my life. One of them was in university, where a fellow classmate gave an oral exposition about how his family had done a great job at "becoming civilised" by cutting ties with their own Roma roots. My university was a fairly progressive space, but no one batted an eye at that: The sheer hatred of Roma culture runs so deep even people who normally abhor racism and xenophobia consider Gitanos to be worth the hate.

There's a social pressure to do that, too. Everyone "knows" Gitano are criminals. I can't really even begin to explain how deeply does this sort of discrimination run. Roma are amongst the most hated minority groups in all of Europe (as well as most of the world). You will find that even in very leftist circles. People will try to erase the fact Roma have their own culture, and just make the world equal to "criminal", call them gy***** (which is a slur, btw), and detach them from being an actual culturally (and often racially) distinct group.

Now, this is only empowered by how media has taken our culture (it is almost hard for me to call it "our", given how much my mother ensured to take that away) and made it into a bad trope. Growing up, I was told my aunt was a sexual deviant who partook in indecent dances. Bellydancing is often seen as something very sexual (Wasn't, in origin), very unfitting. In media, bellydancers veer on the side of being a f*tish, and the common trope is the "bellydancer who seduces people in power for their own benefit". There's also the whole idea of shady fortune tellers and other magical tropes, that sort of weird mysticism that falls rapidly into orientalism. The idea that Roma will hex you, curse you, place an "Evil Eye" on you. And also the idea of travelling circus, people who perform in them being again full of that alluring exoticism, but beware! For they will enchant you, steal from you and run some massive criminal schemes on the way.

Now, when every tie a culture has on media is portrayed in a negative light, it's much harder for that culture to recover any sort of respect from the general populace. And that includes even people who are part of said culture, or people who have been removed from it. It has taken me so many years to unlearn a lot of these biases and realize where it has come from, and now I'm far too distant and far away from my grandmother to actually ever significantly connect to my heritage.

I've had the opportunity to witness what Romani culture is actually about, as I used to live with my grandmother during summers. A lot of the "mysticism" she took part of was actually about wards and protection. A lot of them were actually medicinal in nature, even if others were more superstitious. Red thread in the forehead for sickness and protection to curses, parfums (which contained alcohol or other antiseptics) on wounds, that stuff. My aunt was never a "sexual" deviant, she was keen on recovering and partaking on traditions from a culture that is slowly disappearing. The entire "promiscuous" idea is bullshit, Gitanos place a massive amount of power to marriage and loyalty. I had the luck to witness my cousin's marriage, which was a festivity like none other I had seen in my life, a colorful spectacle full of the most delightful attires, and my mother was whining the entire time over about how it was all an "uncivilised circus".

Now, this is why representation in media is key. Roma culture is broken into a thousand pieces and lost with every passing day. When someone decides to write an ambulant circus performer/fortune teller clad in exotic clothes full of golden jewellery, writes them as a criminal and makes the entire thing extremely sexual, they are feeding into the negative stereotypes about Roma.

Now, there's a lot of people who aren't even aware what culture does that trope even actually come from. I've seen people draw characters clad in Romani attires (often in, uh, rather pin-up or sexual contexts) and claim they're inspired by "x piece of media", where the trope is portrayed in the first place. I literally saw someone make a drawing in that way and call it "inspired by x (non-Roma) artist" instead of acknowledging where does all that come from.

I'm not asking people to not portray Roma people in media. Far from that. I just wish representation was better. Good representation is key towards making a culture seen in a more positive light, and teaching other peoples about it, and making people from said culture resonate with it. The very few times I've seen positive representations of Roma I've felt a bit of that connection with something that was taken from me. I want people to do a bit of research before giving a try to a Roma-coded character. Make an effort to not make Roma always the morally dubious fortune teller, the exotic alluring circus traveller, the bellydancer seductress. It's hard for Romani to produce widespread mainstream media because of how impoverished most communities are (because of the systematic discrimination Roma face all around the world), so the least non-Roma people can do is to be kind when they use their voice to talk or represent us.

I know this is a massive post, and I'm tagging it as "long post" for that reason, but I hope it is helpful for people. Feel free to ask or add your own experience if this is something that resonates with you too. Ask away if you want. I've been wanting to tell a bit my own personal experience, as this has always been a hard spot for me, and even if just a handful of people read this and understand what is this all about, I think it will have been worth it.

[maritotoy]

MAUGA X Support/Medic Reader ((Part. 1))

NOTE: Believe it or not, I never realize how long I've written this one.

This narrative tracks Mauga's obsession with Y/N as it grows to the point where he is prepared to kill everyone who stands in his way. With this in mind, Mauga's commitment would gradually grow. He would start out softly and then this need on you would get stronger.

It all began when your talents were initially utilised for recruitment. You were a terrific help, willing to assist your teammates in whatever way they needed.

Your main issue was that you could never truly let them handle things on their own. As a result, it became increasingly difficult to care for yourself.

They promised you riches if you helped them fight back against their threat. There were only so many ways to profit from rival worlds, after all. You were aware that you were going into a whole new universe when you agreed, but you also felt that you had no choice but to accept them.

Ultimately, you didn't wish to pass away, did you?

It was stated to you when you first joined TALON Organization, that you should concentrate only on the battlefield. Up until you met Baptiste, an exceptional combat medic, it was great with you. Your shared enthusiasm for curing illness is what unites the two of you. It turned into a shared passion. As you try to acquire experience in several areas, like medical supplies, you both hope to discover some more useful abilities, like healing or even a unique kind of combat capability.

But you can hardly ever get to Baptiste, he's constantly at the top. Both a combat mercenary and medic. You're always looking for ways to sharpen your skills.

Even after meeting him again at your base and on missions, you are still determined to improve your ability to deal with any possible emergencies. Not until later do you find out what happens when a member of your unit gets injured.

Baptiste surged in, carrying an imposing stature and a solid, muscular frame. His voice sounded desperate, asking, "I'm sorry if I came to you! I know you are busy, but I need help with my friend, please, Y/N!" The urgency was so obvious that there wasn't much resistance. Even if he was a doctor himself, it must have seemed urgent enough.

Besides... You were in the right place to help.

You rushed over to his side and helped him stabilize his huge friend. "What happened, Bap? Are you hurt?" He didn't reply, but his eyes told you all you needed to know.

You fix your sight on his pal. He does not appear to be hurt or seriously damage. However, the man's body is completely soaked, which looks very suspicious to you. "Is he alright, Bap? I don't see anything wrong." He shook his head and gave a sigh.

"We were attacked. Mauga and I found the source of the enemy attack and got separated."

"How long has it been since then?"

"Four hours, maybe five."

"Do you have any idea of what may have caused the damage?"

"I'm not sure. However, I had already discovered him unconscious but unharmed on the ground. It should not take long for him to awaken.." You glance at the unconscious man again before you say, "Let me take a look at him." He nodded and stepped aside.

"Mauga could never be wounded by shots like that. Despite his size, he could easily absorb one hit thanks to his physique." He explains.

You crouch down and check on his comrade. He seems fine to you. There's nothing unusual about him, other than the fact that he's a bit too heavy.

You knew Mauga.

And with such.

You just don't know how to engage with him.

On a conversation? Yes. Your profession is your duty.

You don’t really get along with those who rely solely on themselves as an advantage, even though you respect their abilities.

The feeling is mutual. Every time someone gets hurt because of something beyond their control, you are there to help them.

Because that's your job as a medic.

You both have quite a difference in interests, though. You can't stand the fact that he’s so reckless, you can't understand why he doesn't think more carefully before he acts. As soon as he sees blood, it's always the most important thing.

Mauga stands tall, towering over his opponents with an impressive height of 7'5 ft tall. (My headcanon)

Mauga is a formidable opponent on the front lines thanks to his strong, muscular physique. His broad shoulders and thick neck gives off an air of strength and power, and his body is well-built, demonstrating his strength and capacity to deal severe damage to rivals.

Did I mention he has two hearts?

Unlike you, Mauga is a ruthless and cunning individual, driven by his own motivations. He never lets anyone interfere with his goals, whether or not they involve you. While he might act with reckless disregard sometimes, he is also able to calculate the best course of action.

Not anyone knows this. But you knew nontheless with Baptiste.

You may be underestimating him in some way, or you may have witnessed the genuine thing, up close and personal, but he always brags about his achievements without hesitation or shame. His fighting style turns wild and unpredictable when he fights. If Mauga doesn't want to win, he will take his time, before using ChaCha and Gunny, his chainguns, to grab the victory, and he won't give up until he achieves his objective.

He definitely is careless, isn't he?

"He's breathing just fine, Baptiste. I would say he is in perfect health, aside from the injuries, I can't detect any signs of any damage injuries either." You said as you stood up. Baptiste sighs relief. "I'll leave him to you doctor. Don't worry, I trust that you have everything under control." He says this to you while nodding in satisfaction.

This gesture of his is a way of gratitude towards the medic's work.

"I will be back later," he says as he leaves to make a round to prepare for battle.

While Baptiste was gone, you sat next to the downed mercenary soldier and begin to observe him. In the midst of his unconsciousness, he seems to be in a good state. There was no sign of discomfort or pain. His pulses are fast but steady, knowing that Mauga have two hearts, one that allowed him to replace his damaged, organic heart with a cybernetic one. That way, his heart will beat twice as fast. You can easily tell that Mauga is in his natural state.

Your eyes began to feel heavy after observing him for some time. You weren't sure if it's due to fatigue from watching him, or simply exhaustion from your duties as a medic.

Before you knew it, you fell asleep.

When you awoke, you find yourself staring back into the face of Maugaloa Malosi, whose lips formed into those flashing, same pasted smile as usual. “Ah, Doctor. How nice to see you again.”

You quickly wake up, sitting straight up on the chair. “M-Mauga!" You exclaimed, alarmed. "H-How is you- I mean are you feeling alright?”

He grinned at you. “I am feeling rather fine.” You let out a long, sigh of relief. However, you didn't anticipate that this would happen frequently. “I see..." You replied.

Silence takes over for a while. Mauga stared at you intensely before taking a step forward. “Your Y/N, correct? Baptiste little assistant. I've heard much about you, but never expect that I would get to get treated from you.”

You flinched slightly at his words 'assistant' and the word 'little', but you remained calm. “I'm glad that you feel better now. You should rest and recover. If you still need them..."

“I appreciate the concern,” he says as he reaches towards your shoulder. You instinctively raise your hands in preparation of blocking. This caught him off guard, causing him to pause in his movements, then booms laughing.

“My apologies, Teuila. I thought that you might have forgotten what I do here,” he said in that familiar, friendly tone.

“If I recall correctly, I haven't given you permission to touch me.” This comment caught him off guard as he chuckles deeply.

He stares at your hand for a while longer. You're beginning to become worried. After a brief silence, he reaches forward and lightly holds onto your wrist.

“That’s a very sensitive spot…” He whispers gently. Your heartbeat begins to accelerate. “And your pulse is fast. Is this normal?” he asks. “Yes,” you respond in a soft voice.

“Then why are you afraid? You know I'm not going to hurt you...” He grinned. His sharp teeth glinted menacingly in the dim light. "Surely you've already made a friend? You also gave him a lot of attention than you do with me. Or have you grown to dislike me?"

"...I... I beg your pardon-" your speech is interrupted by Baptiste with a tired expression.

"Hey... Sorry that I took so long. I went to gather supplies. Mission was a success." He sighed in relief as he approached you.

"Mauga, I'm glad your awake bud." Baptiste sighs in relief and smiles at Mauga. Mauga returned the gesture before looking back at you.

He still has that huge grin plastered across his features while his eyes darted towards yours. "You're crazy out there Mauga. Do you really think that you can defeat the enemies single handedly?" Baptiste says with a chuckle. “You know me Baptiste, I never do things without planning them out.” He grinned, revealing that row of dazzlingly white teeth. “I still don't understand how you've been knocked down so easily. It's hard to believe that you can be beaten like that.” Baptiste gives a half smirk, half frown.

You listen to their conversation, and you try to make sense of it. Mauga laughs at the situation, as if it's all so obvious. "C'mon, Baptiste, we have bigger problems than me right now. The mission is a success because we finally found the enemy camp. But it was a close call, and we needed your medical expertise to treat the wounded," Mauga explains to Baptiste while looking directly into his eyes with a sly smile. "I carried your massive ass in this camp with support of your weight alone. You ought to be pleased to have a subordinate with such skill." Baptiste smirks. He was referring to you. Mauga laughs at his friend's criticism, displaying his amusement at the circumstances.

"So yeah. It was pretty rough, but we managed to secure the objective! Isn't that great news?"

It's not really a surprise to you.

Mauga does tend to put himself in danger, especially when he's in an unfamiliar place.

This guy is completely reckless, which is why you can't believe that he managed to survive so many battles without falling apart or breaking down.

"Your a loose-canon, but I hope ended well..." you say calmly, hoping that you sound convincing enough.

"I can assure that I have the highest respect and admiration for your abilities as a medic. I would never doubt your skills, even if I hadn't personally experience how skilled you are in dealing with wounds." Mauga comments, he sounds sincere as ever.

Baptiste grins again. "That's a big ego of yours, my friend. You should consider giving a few compliments to the people who did more than you."

"I would love to, my friend, but there's nothing wrong with being modest about our accomplishments."

"Alright," Baptiste said, sounding annoyed.

--------

After several hours, days, months of treating your patients at base. You cannot help but wonder seeing Mauga quite often, whether that is purely because of duty or something else. Although it is difficult to tell what he's thinking, there are moments where you notice the way that he is constantly staring at you. Like he's trying to figure out something about you:

studying your appearance, facial expressions, mannerisms. Sometimes he gets lost in his thoughts, sometimes he appears to be lost in his own world, occasionally, you could catch him smirking knowingly, or even smiling to himself. These small gestures usually only occur during times when it's with you with him. Sometimes, the man is just too cheerful, or too energetic in general.

You could hardly handle the stress of handling all these patients in the infirmary on your own. You're starting to miss having Baptiste around to keep him occupied while you go through patients. You sighed loudly not until Mauga appears behind you

You found him with wounds on his chest and torso. You turn to look at him, "What happened?"

"Nothing serious..." He grins, showing his sharpened teeth.

"Just a minor injury, eh?" You raise an eyebrow at the mercenary, crossing your arms over your chest. Mauga simply shrugs as he sits on a table.

There was another period of silence between you two, and the atmosphere seemed to tense up considerably. This time, it's you who breaks the silence. "I'm sorry that you got injured. I don't know how I should react seeing someone else getting hurt so casually. You could have died out there. And that's not the worst thing that can happen," you said sarcastically and sternly.

He chuckles. "Oh really? Tell me more." He leans closer to your face, gazing deeply into your eyes. "Ah. So that's how it is."

You glare at him angrily, but he ignores you as you continue working. "Are you seriously going to mock me for worrying about you?"

"Not at all," he replied, with a hint of sarcasm. "But there is one thing that concerns me."

"What? You're going to insult me too, aren't you?" Mauga laughs while Y/N tends his injury.

The felt of your touch sends shivers throughout his entire body. He tries hard to suppress the sudden urge to grab her hand and hold on tightly. It's becoming harder to control these urges though. He shakes his head rapidly as he pulls away from you. He looks at you with narrowed eyes. "I'm not mocking you, you know?"

Your gaze flicks briefly to his. "Hm."

There was a short silence between you two, until you began to clean a cut on one of his legs. You noticed his gaze follow every movement of your fingers. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"I'd prefer that you didn't ask questions so frequently, Teuila."

"Teuila?" You face him. "You know, I never asked you of this... But why do you call me that?" He lets out a deep chuckle and replies. "Because you look like Teuila. It fits well, doesn't it?" He flashes you a warm smile before turning his head away again.

You shrugged of his answer, continuing your work without saying anything further, although you were extremely curious. "Teuila... What does that word mean?" There's a brief moment of silence in between the two of you once you finished cleaning up the blood staining his leg. A faint smile plays across his lips again. "I thought you were better than that."

"And you think that you're better than me?"

"Yeah," he replies smugly.

"Then... You've obviously underestimated me, don't you?" You give him a challenging smirk. He returns the smile with a smirk of his own, but he then turns serious again. His eyes narrow. "Let me enlighten you. That name means 'flower'. Do you understand what kind of flower it means?"

You gave him a blank stare. He continues to smirk, waiting for you to understand his meaning. Eventually, you sigh, putting your hands on your hips. "Do I look like I care to know?" You scoff, rolling your eyes lightly.

Mauga laughs. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter what you think of it..."

There was silence between you two for a few seconds, and you looked away with furrowed brows.

You finish patching up the mercenary, placing some bandages around him and securing them securely. "Now that I finished helping you, you're dismissed." You professionaly said after you made sure that everything was covered properly. Mauga laughs at this. "Really? Now? Just like that?" He asks mockingly.

"Yes Mauga, I don't have any other duties besides tending to your wounds. I've been doing that for quite some time now," you responded coldly.

Mauga raises an eyebrow at this. "You know, if you start beginning to care about those wounds, you might find yourself losing them. If you want me to leave your clinic quickly, then you'll have to earn my trust first, which requires some work."

You sigh heavily. Of course Mauga will insist on making things difficult for you. "I am no doctor Mauga, I cannot cure your injuries." You sarcasticly said.

"Oh I know that. But you're still willing to take the risk." He chuckled.

"You wouldn't had to waste precious time coming here in order to talk shit."

Mauga laughs at you again, grinning like a cat that ate the canary. "I wouldn't waste too much time coming here either, but I also wouldn't be able to enjoy it quite as much because you'll be gone by then," he says confidently. "Besides, you're not exactly known for your patience." You roll your eyes, turning back to the table in front of you.

"You know I've always wondered what it feels like to be your patient," Mauga mused. "To be the one receiving the attention of the most skilled medic in your battalion."

"You must be joking," you replied, you know what he meant, not wanting to think that you would ever become his patient.

"No. You know me... " He grins. You groaned. "Don't' make such assumptions, we don't know each other all that well yet."

"Yet..."

You glared at him as he laughed. "Whatever. It seems like there's no stopping you, is there? We haven't even officially met yet, and already you're acting as if you have a good relationship with me." You sighed exasperatedly, massaging the area of your forehead in irritation.

"Listen, Mauga. My job is simple, I care for my patients and treat them well. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Oh yeah? Well, maybe I'm different," he said cockily.

"How? Are you not afraid of dying?"

"No... No I'm not... I've done so much more reckless things than death." His expression suddenly shifted to an emotionless one. For a moment, it felt almost as if he wasn't looking at you anymore. Then he chuckled softly, giving you a playful wink. "But I'm no saint."

"It must be hard to admit being human." You shook your head slightly.

"Sometimes." His grin returned to his features.

You couldn't help but stare directly into his eyes for a little longer, taking in how dark they actually are.

Mauga shows a huge plastered face. His still wearing his dumb smile.

You blinked at him.

He blinked back.

You rolled your eyes. "Stop smiling so much." He continued to laugh, as you turned away from him again. Mauga stood up and stretched lazily, "I have something to attend to, I'll be seeing you later," Mauga teasingly said as he made his way towards the door. He opens it, but he glances back.

A small smirk forms on his lips.

You watch him disappear outside the door, closing it behind him with a click. Once the door closes you let out a heavy sigh, resting your back against the wall behind you. Your heart is racing a mile, a minute, both at the prospect of having finally been alone with Mauga again, and the strange feeling within you after you spent several hours alone with him.

This feeling...

It's definitely not normal.

End of part 1

Part 2- ???

[matryosika]

Pairing: Changbin x Reader

Wordcount: 12,944 words.

Includes: Fem!Reader, babysitter!Changbin, MILF!Reader. Age gap between characters (male character is said to be 24, whilst reader's age is not explicited but there's an 11 years gap between the two). It's kind of an important topic throughout the plot, but it's not the main topic. Alcohol consumption. Smut warnings under the cut.

Author's Note: Finally, I finished this Changbin fic I've been work for an embarrassing amount of time. I had fun writing this, but right in the middle I kind of started questioning my existence and I started feeling conflicted about how I was portraying everything. I'm not sure if I'm satisfied, but I had a good time so I guess that's what counts. I know for a fact that there are a couple of grammar mistakes and misspelled words. I promise I'll fix them all soon. In the mean time, enjoy! Also, as usual, please remember that english is not my first language.

If you wish to support my work further, you can leave a reblog/ask/ comment. I also have a ko-fi, in case you want to (and are able to) leave me a tip. As a broke, college student I will highly appreciate it (the job hunting it's definitely not going anywhere, anytime soon. I'm doing my best though!). As I'm based in México, even a dollar helps me tons.

Smut warnings: Perv!Changbin, panty sniffing, jerking off to the smell of used underwear. Non-consensual recording in the beginning (but not really, you'll find out why). Dirty talk, mentions of masturbation (f. and m.), oral sex (f. and m. receiving), mentions of spit/drool, brief pussy slapping, overstimulation, impregnation fantasies (but it's not explicit between the characters), very mild humiliation/fantasies regarding humiliation, consensual recording of sexual activities, unprotected sex, creampie. Changbin talks lot about reader's ex-husband during the smut part so bear with him, it's his ego talking.

“You saw what?!”

Myeong’s high-pitched voice attracts a couple of stares from other people at the café, and you sulk into your spot at the sofa. If there's one person you trust in this world, whole-heartedly, it's her —your friend is good at keeping secrets, but she is not that great at being discreet.

Even so, she is the only one you can talk to about this. You didn't even tell your therapist yet, afraid you might get confronted in a not-so-friendly manner.

“Keep your voice down,” you insist, kicking her leg with your feet underneath the table. The short haired hisses and curses under her breath, but she doesn’t complain. Part of her feels like she earned it by being so loud. “And don’t make me repeat it again”.

“He did not,” Myeong’s eyes embody true shock as she stares right into you, her lips slightly parted while there's a blank expression all over her face. It starts regaining its true colors once her eyebrows quirk, and the corners of her lips turn into a hysterical smirk. “He did not!”

“Yes, he did,” you sigh, brushing a couple of strands away from your face before guiding the white, coffee mug to your lips, “And it’s all video-”.

“Shut up,” Myeong’s hand flies to her mouth and she covers it, repressing any urges to scream or laugh out loud. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“I’m not,” you shrug your shoulders, “and it wasn’t just one video I found”.

 Myeong smacks her palm against her thigh, offering you a warm but teasingly smirk, “this might be the greatest day, ever”.

“This is not okay, Myeong,” there’s a lump in your throat that doesn’t go away, not even with all the sips you’ve taken from your coffee as of right now. The words are caught up in your throat, and you're afraid you might spill them if your friend spins the conversation to the wrong direction.

“How is this not okay?” The amusement in her eyes tells you that she is definitely watching the issue from another perspective. A perspective you know well, but that you no longer share, “he is clearly into you, I bet if you ask him to sleep with you he would do it right away, without thinking it twice”.

“He is a college student,” you emphasize, “and he is barely 24”. 

“So?” Myeong cocks an eyebrow. “It’s not illegal, is it?”

You roll your eyes.

“No, it is not illegal,” your friend smiles proudly when you prove her right, but her smile fades away as you start talking, “but it feels wrong”.

“You’re so boring sometimes, you know,” your friend snorts, taking a sip from her green tea. “When was the last time you got laid?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, actually it does,” the conversation is slowly spinning towards you, and you don’t like it. At the same time, you can’t help but answer every question Myeong has, hoping to get some clarity out of the dilemmas she is putting you through. “If you can look into my eyes and promise that your sexual life is satisfactory enough right now, I will let this go”.

Had you been a hell of a liar, you would've done just that —stare into her eyes and blatantly lie. But is it more embarrassing to lie about having a great sexual life and get caught, or admitting it has been practically non-existent ever since your divorce?

Your silence and crestfallen gaze speaks for themselves, and that sparks curiosity in Myeong.

“Because you do… have an active sexual life, right?” A group of older women passes by your table and stares judgingly, which prompts you to shush your friend. Her blank expressions turns into amusement again, and she pokes her tongue through her cheek. “Oh, my God!”

“Look, I don’t need it, okay?” You're not a good liar, but the frustration and the rising heat on your cheeks prompts you to talk without thinking. “I don’t fuck these days and I totally don’t care”.

“What a day!” Myeong scoffs with mirth, “and it is barely nine in the morning”. 

You pick at the hems of your blazer and don’t dare to look at her, at least not until she regains her composure.

“Oh my God,” she sighs again, taking a sip from her tea. “No, I see it, you definitely look like you haven't had sex in ages”.

“My sexual life is not up for discussion today,” you cut her short, rising your hand to catch the attention of a waiter not that far from your table, wanting to get another coffee refill. “But I really need to figure out what to do with the other thing I just told you about”.

“You’re such a prude,” your friend chuckles softly, “you can’t even say his name or address the situation as it happened —you caught him jerking off with your underw-”

“Don’t,” you stop her, glaring at the waiter that's just approaching you. He gets to your table and offers you both a bright smile, before asking if you need anything else. You hand him your coffee mug and ask for another refill, to which he nods compliantly.

You wish you could have elongated the time of his presence near you, to save you from Myeong's accusatory interventions, but there was little you could do when another table called him. After, the mischevious smile in your friend’s lips appeared again.

“So you caught Changbin jerking him in your bedroom, rubbing himself with a pair of your used panties,” you nod quietly, biting the insides of your cheek. There's something crude about the way she puts it, but that's exactly what happened. “What are you going to do about it? Fire him?”

“Yeah,” you agree, and furrow your eyebrows when Myeong shakes her head in disapproval. “Isn’t that the obvious thing to do in this situation?”

“You said he was great, though”.

“He is great at babysitting,” you let out a frustrated sigh, brushing your hair away from your face, “he is so accessible, and Jihun adores him”.

“And you’re still going to fire him?” Myeong asks with a look of disbelief.

“Isn’t that what I am supposed to do?”  The sudden raise of your voice attracts a couple of stares, to which Myeong responds with a friendly smile. You quickly mutter a quick sorry to your table neighbors and other passerbys, and lower the volume of your voice. “The idea of not firing him just doesn't make any sense”.

“Alright, let’s say you fire him,” Myeong takes a deep sigh and leans back against his seat, “do you already have someone in mind for the job?”

You chew on your bottom lip as you shake your head.

“If you’re going to fire him, you better start there,” your friend rightfully points out. “Once you have a new babysitter, then you can fire him. If not, you’re at risk of being left empty-handed”.

“Yeah, but-” you hesitate. The idea of having to look for someone else to take care of Jihun it’s incredibly overwhelming. What if you can’t find someone like Changbin all over again? What if you end up stuck with a shitty, irresponsible babysitter that Jihun might not even get along with? “God, I just don’t want to fire him”.

“Then don’t!”

“But-”

“Jesus, you’re so complicated,” Myeong huffed, taking one last sip of her tea cup before putting it to the side. “What is so wrong about him jerking off in your room? That he did it with your dirty underwear?”.

You keep quiet for a second, which your friend takes advantage of to continue ranting.

“I mean, that’s a little bit nasty, but is it weird of me to say that it’s kind of hot too?”

“It’s a perverted behavior,” you murmur under your breath, but Myeong picks it on very clearly.

“It turned you on and you know it,” she scoffs. “We have going at this for over an hour, and not once I’ve sense any kind of disgust from you when you talk about it. You’re scared, and awkward, and probably confused, but disgusted? I just don’t see it, no matter how hard you try to portray just that”.

Damned be Myeong, who knows you a bit too well for your own liking.

“What were you thinking when you saw those videos?” the short-haired asks you, stretching her arms and placing both palms on top of the table. “Or better yet, what did you feel?”.

She doesn’t know, you tell yourself, but the heat rising up to your cheeks and the sudden throb between your legs betrays you. Myeong might not know what you thought or felt, but you do —no matter how much you try to repress or deny it, the ghost of your hand trailing from your tummy to your aching core is still there.

“Nothing,” you reply, not daring to share the truth.

“Nothing?” Myeong challenges you, “you mean to tell me that it didn’t spark anything inside you?”

It sparked everything inside you, but you couldn’t get yourself to admit it. The whole situation makes you feel silly, and you can't understand why.

“Alright,” she exhales, scratching her head. “I’m going to be pretty straight forward with you”.

Myeong isn't known for her tact, so you're preparing in advance for whatever it is that she has to say. Whether you want her blunt honesty or not, it is perhaps what you need to get yourself out of this dilemma, “shoot”.

“We’ve been friends for what? 18 years?” you simply nod, unsure where this is going to take her. “We went to college together, we finished our majors and graduated on time. I was there on your wedding day, and the day Jihun was born. I was also there the day you decided to get a divorce”.

“Thank you for the quick trip to memory lane,” you joke.

“What I’m saying is that we have known each other for years, I obviously can tell when you’re lying,” she cocks her eyebrows and gives you an accusatory look, but continues on with her speech. “I also can tell how much you’ve changed since that useless marriage of you, and I hate it. You’re far from being the confident woman I once knew”.

“What does that has any to do with the Changbin situation?” A nervous smile peeks through the corners of your lips.

“Please,” she spits, “it has everything to do with it”.

She keeps quiet for a second and stares at you long enough before continuing, almost as if she's trying to get answers from you telepathically. Not that she needs them.

“What are you so scared of?” Myeong queries. Whether she asked it as a rhetorical question or not, you do have an answer of your own. A bunch, actually. “Why did you stop being a woman, and got stuck with the role of a divorced, single mother?”

You know it wasn't her intention, but the stinging feeling of your tears pricking in the corner of your eyes tells you that she has hit a weak spot. Something you weren't expecting to talk about on a Thursday morning during breakfast at a fucking café downtown.

“I know you like him, Changbin,” the way she stitched those words together makes you feel eerie, but the statement is not far from the truth —you don't picture a long life together, and you don't necessarily want anything serious, but you still like him. You're attracted to him, and you've known that for a while now. “It’s really obvious”.

“How come?” The question is stupid, but you really ought to know why.

“I’m your best friend,” she smiles triumphantly, “I just know”.

Your cup of coffee it’s getting empty, and there’s only a couple of minutes before 10. You invited Myeong to grab some breakfast in hopes of finding a solution to your conflict, yet a ton of more questions were awakened.

You can’t tell if that is a good thing or a bad one.

“It’s obvious he feels attracted to you too,” Myeong tells you, getting you out of your own thoughts. “Perhaps it wasn't the best way to find out, but you can clearly tell he has a thing for you”.

“So?”

“So,” she exhales, grabbing her purse from the side of the table. “Do with that information as you please. Jesus, woman, I can’t solve every single one of your mind riddles for you!”

“You’re saying I should tell him?” you rush to ask before she stands up. “You know, about the videos”.

“I’m saying: do whatever the fuck you want for once,” Myeong smiles. “If you want to get fucked by him, go ahead. If you don’t, then you don’t and that’s it”.

“You’re not helping me,” you huff, crossing your arms against your chest while leaning back.

“No one will be able to help you if you don’t let them,” with a tilt of her head, and her lips pressed together in a straight line, Myeong chooses her next words carefully. “What happened with Kyungho doesn't have to keep on taking tolls in your life, especially in your womanhood”.

She extends her arm on the table and looks out for your hand, holding it carefully while giving you a reassurance gaze.

“It’s difficult,” you exhale, fixing your eyes in the way she rubs your hand with her thumb.

“I know,” the short-haired nods. “But you too deserve to have fun, to meet people and feel desired. It is not wrong, you know?”

After your divorce, picturing you with someone became impossible. At first, and for obvious reasons, you didn't feel like putting yourself out there. You had way too much on your plate at the time to even consider dating, and the idea never really crossed your mind. Your work and Jihun occupied most of the space in your mind and concerns, and there was very little room for you and your needs.

As you got a hang of everything, you started to realize the pitch feeling of dissatisfaction inside your chest —there was something you were missing, and you couldn't quite pinpoint exactly what it was.

Love, with Jihun and your loved ones you had plenty. Money, just enough to live a pretty decent life.

But sex? There was nothing there to tell.

“I’ve got to get going,” Myeong murmurs, squeezing your hand one last time before sliding her chair backwards, “don’t get into your head too much, alright?”

“I can’t promise you that,” you tell her, standing up from the sofa while grabbing your purse while giving her an unapologetic smile. 

The rest of the day you’re spending it thinking about your conversation with Myeong earlier, and the videotapes you found the night before. Most of the things she said are lingering in your head, presenting itself one after the other, like a hook of an essay meant to capture your attention and lure you into all that reading the rest.

She gives you a soft pat on your head and returns the smile, her warmth giving you some sense of comfort, “just try”.

You don’t want to read the rest of your own thoughts. You don't want to acknowledge them, nor deal with them, but Myeong’s voice is still ringing loud and clear in your ears.

What were you thinking? What did you feel? Had you been brave enough, you would have told her everything, from the very start and without gaps. You would have told her about the way your heart started to race as you realized what was hapenning in the tapes, how you stood awake all night watching them, examining them, touching yourself to them.

Now that you think about it, you're not any better than him.

Paperwork is accumulating at the edge of your desk, but you can't begin to care. Time is passing, but you’re still stuck in last night without being able to move forward or backward. Your mind is latched to the sight of him throwing his head back while he wraps your underwear around his cock, the way he starts increasing the movement of his wrist once he is close. Your mind is latched to everything you saw, and all the tiny details you might have missed.

The dates of each footage spin in your head, trying to find a pattern but, at the same time, making no sense. There is, however, a common denominator every single time —Changbin only visits your room when the apartment was empty. It doesn’t happens too often, though, but it has happened a couple of times in the past months. For instance, that April morning you took Jihun to his doctor’s appointment and forgot to inform Changbin, who showed up to your apartment right on time, but found it empty.

It had been a rabbit's hole, the stupid CCTV you haven't gotten rid of despite not being useful anymore. Before yesterday, you didn't even remember you had it —it had been Kyungho’s idea, to install a closed-circuit television system after a spate of burglaries at the apartment complex. At the time, you didn't protest because you thought it was convenient. But, eventually, the burglaries stopped.

After that, the system never came in handy until Wednesday, when you thought you had lost a usb with important work documents. You looked for it everywhere —the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, and even Jihun's playroom.

“You know, kids love small, shiny things,” Myeong had told you over the phone, trying to ease your frustration, “maybe he took it and it’s hidden somewhere in between his toys, I don’t know”.

After a relentless search, and an agonizing feeling of having screwed up, you remembered the CCTV. Although its purpose was to surveill and not precisely find missing things you took a leap of faith —you were too desperate to find it, that the idea didn’t seem too crazy.

So you sat down and searched for the date in which you last remember ever using the USB. Tuesday, this week. You thought doing some home office was a good idea, so you took your stuff home and, after pouring a glass of red wine, you laid down in your bed and started reviewing some documents you have to deliver on Friday.

A glass of red wine became two, and soon you found yourself feeling sleepy. You could clearly see in the CCTV footage how you packed your things, placed your laptop inside your bag, took the glass and bottle of wine to the kitchen and returned to keep on getting your stuff ready for the following morning. Then, some frames of you walking towards one of your drawers, opening and closing them right away.

Perhaps you had been too sleepy, and the alcohol ingested did its thing, but you found the USB right there, where the footage showed it —inside one of the drawers. You smiled triumphantly as you packed the device where it should have been, inside your bag, and returned your attention to the television screen in front of you. What a useless purchase, you thought as you saw the amount of videos stored, but felt glad nonetheless about it becoming in handy.

You could have stop right there. And really, you should have.

But one thumbnail in particular captured your attention. It dated from Wednesday, last week, and it showed you an image of a man walking inside your room, the same 3 frames repeating themselves over and over again.

Wednesday, last week, had been the parent-teaching meeting at Jihun’s preschool. It took longer than expected, so Changbin had to wait at your place for around 20 minutes before you came home. The timestamp in the bottom right corner of the thumbnail confirmed so —it had been recorded at 12:06 p.m., when he was by himself.

Said footage lead you to look for another.

And another.

And another.

[18:01 p.m., You: Do you think I can have a word after your shift today?]

And at one point, you didn’t know who had sunk lower —Changbin, for what he did, or you, for liking it.

[19:23 p.m., Babysitter: Sure. Is everything alright?]

[19:41 p.m., You: Yeah, there’s just something I want to discuss with you]

Myeong's words still resonate inside your mind and, as you park your car outside the apartment complex, you realize you don't have a plan. You had been brave enough to let Changbin know there's something you want to talk about, but you didn't think anything further from it. You just don’t know how to bring the topic up, because there is a lot to explain from your side.

“Yeah, I have cameras all over the apartment and I saw you getting off to my used underwear,” you rehearse, but even the choice of words sounds extremely creepy. You're glad the windows of your car are rolled up, because if any passerby hears you they would’ve give you a perturbated look.

You take a deep breath, grip the steering wheel of your car and go at it again. “Listen, Changbin, I found some videos- fuck!”.

You feel conflicted, and guilty. And a part of you makes you want to believe it is because of the whole CCTV issue, that you should've told him beforehand when he started working with you. But, prior to this week, you didn't even remember it. You didn't avoid telling him out of mischief, but because it was so irrelevant it never cross your mind.

However, the other part of you knows it is because of what you did watching those tapes. You know about the pooling wetness in your underwear as you remember the images of Changbin stroking himself, wrapping your used underwear around his cock and fucking himself with it. You know about the countless times you made yourself come last night while thinking about him, about how good he smells and how much of a gentleman he is.

You know about your attraction towards him, and that is something you can deny to everyone but yourself.

After not being able to find the correct words to use tonight, you leave your car and walk towards your apartment with frustration penting up inside of you. Because, really, what was the worst thing that could happen? Him, quitting his job? At some point, you voted for that solution to this situation. So the more you think about it, the more you expose yourself —the worst thing that can happen is nothing at all.

You take one last deep breath before typing the password in the keypad of your door, and the first thing you're welcomed with is a delicious smell you're not used to.

“I’m home,” you announce, hanging your bag and blazer on the coat rack. These days you're not greeted by Jihun as you usually were. Now that he started his second year at kindergarten, he wakes up earlier than usual and, therefore, goes to bed early too. His absence doesn’t surprise you tonight, but the fact that Changbin isn’t sitting at your living room as he usually does, do. “Changbin?”

“Right here, Miss,” a voice from the kitchen speaks.

You find him standing in front of the kitchen stove, not facing you, wearing some thight jeans, a light blue shirt and your white apron. In the dinner table there's a plate and a glass, along with a bottle of wine you can't quite recognize. Did he bring it himself?

“What is this?” you ask. There's not irritation or annoyance in your voice, but rather confusion and curiosity.

The corner of his lips rise in a soft, proud smirk. One that you can’t capture due to the position he is in. “Dinner,” he tells you, maneuvering a couple of kitchen utensils on his pan. “I figure you might be hungry, and so I decided to cook some dinner for you”.

Static, you stare at his back for endless seconds until his voice brings you back to reality yet again.

“I cooked us some bibimbap, Jihun was craving some,” Changbin explains. “There were a couple of leftover ingredients”.

“Oh,” you murmur, walking cautiously towards the dining table, “you shouldn’t have”.

“It’s no big deal,” Changbin reassures you, getting your dish ready.

You watch him as he moves around the kitchen, and that conversation with Myeong comes back to your mind —he is a college student, 11 years younger than you are. But the more you look at him, the more he doesn't look like one.

His facial features, the way he walks and carries himself. The way he talks and expresses his thoughts, his voice, his gaze... Everything is so appealing to you. He is even more of a man than half men your age, you often think.

“Almost done, Miss,” he tells you, and the title which he uses to address you suddenly weighs heavy on your mind.

“How was Jihun today?” you ask, clearing your throat and preventing any other thoughts from resurfacing.

“He was good,” Changbin walks towards the table and offers you the dish, not without pouring a bit of wine on your glass. “I helped him with his homework, and he asked me if he could watch television afterwards. We spent almost all day at his playroom”.

“Thanks,” you mutter under your breath as he sets the table ready for you. “Is he already in bed?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “I hope the dinner is good by the way”.

You give him a quick smile, and thank him again. The dish looks great, and it smells just as good, but you can’t get yourself to take one bite from it. Or at least not when you’re this nervous.

So you decide to start now.

“Changbin,” you sigh, feeling even more conflicted about such gesture. His name it's all that's needed for you to capture his attention, which you do almost immediately. “Please, sit down”.  

He follows compliantly, taking a seat right in front of yours. You're not quite sure how to begin, but you go for it anyways.

“What’s going on?” he asks you, with an innocent smile that gets a little under your nerves. “What was the thing you wanted to discuss?”

You clear your throat and eye the glass of wine in front of you. Silly move, a part of you thinks once you chug it down in one sit. You look nervous, and he can tell. Ironically enough, you're not the one who should be in such a state. You weren't caught doing something wrong, and your job wasn't at risk. So why do you feel cornered, just like he is supposed to feel?

“How do I even say this,” you mumble to yourself, exhaling the sweet taste of wine. It tastes nothing like the ones you usually consume, but it is nice. You know it isn't yours, but you don't dare to ask him the reason behind this odd, unexpected gift. “Jesus”.

He looks at you with empty eyes, that seem to be trying hard to figure out what's going on inside your mind.

“Look, I’m just going to say it like it happened,” Changbin is sitting right in front of you, but it seems as if you’re engaging on a conversation alone with yourself. You hardly recognize his presence there, only fixing your eyes to the now empty glass of wine. “And I know I should’ve told you this when I first met you and hired you as Jihun’s babysitter, but I didn’t because I completely forgot about them and I honestly didn’t think much of it”.

There's a short silence between the two of you, one you use to organize your thoughts, and then continue.

“There’s a CCTV system in the apartment,” you say, without beating around the bush. Saying it out loud, for you, sounds like a shocker, but Changbin doesn't seem fazed at all. “There’s cameras on every room, and they have been there for a while now, longer than you have been working for me”.

After you tell him that, he leans back against his seat and his body relaxes, almost as if he was expecting something else. Something worse.

As if what you’re just about to say isn’t wrong enough.

“I saw some stuff,” you confess, still not daring to look at him.

You hate how this whole interaction is being. You hate how small you feel, even though you're the one calling him out, the one supposed to be in control. You hate how he looks at you, with that heavy gaze of his that secretly whispers an I know what you did. You hate how the eleven-year gap does not cross your mind because in front of him you feel so defenseless.

You hate how you can't even scold him for what he did because you didn't dislike any second of it.

Changbin smiles after a couple of seconds in silence, finding amusement in the way you get flustered as you try to keep your speech going.

“I know about the cameras,” he tells you, and your nervous countenance suddenly drifts into one of confusion. “I’ve known for a while. They’re not hard to spot”.

There's rage within you, probably because of how much time you invested being nervous just for him to shrug it off so lightly.

“Oh,” you blink a couple of times, still in awe.

It takes you a while, but the realization hits you. If he was aware of the CCTV system the whole time, that means…

“Then you know what I saw,” it’s not a question, it’s an affirmation. Hostility lingers in your voice, but that is not enough to alarm Changbin, who licks his lips and tiltes his head at you with a serious deadpan.

“Miss,” he tells you. “What did you see?”

You gulp loudly and finally get the courage to look at him, with an incredulous expression that calls out his cynism. “Do you really want me to say it out loud?”

Another silence dawns up on you, and you're not quite sure how to follow the conversation without his participation, as he isn't really saying anything. So, to save you time and awkwardness, you just let the words freely fall from your mouth.

“I saw footages of you, inside my room,” you spit, seeing if that is enough to get a reaction from him, but realizing you failed again. Not that it surprises you, so you just keep going. “I saw everything, every video there was. I don’t- I’m not sure why I did it, but I did”.

You're reminded of Myeong, again, and how she asked you to do whatever the fuck you wanted for once.

“So, why?” you ask, staring deep into him. You’re not angry, nor disappointed, you also don’t seem grossed out, so Changbin smiles triumphantly. He has gotten away with it. “If you knew there was cameras, why risk doing that knowing I could easily find out?”

“Because I wanted you to find out,” he simply replies, as if the answer wasn’t completely obvious to both parties.

“Yeah, but why?”

“I wanted to end up right here,” Changbin explains, leaning against the table while placing both of his elbows on it. “With you, confronting me about it”.

You look at him in disbelief, trying to give his answers some sense but failing miserably.

“You’re not thinking about firing me,” he continues, looking for your gaze underneath your shock. “It would’ve been the first thing to say”. 

It seems as if the roles have been reversed, and you're now the one who isn't speaking, despite you being the one who initially brought the topic up.Right now you want to listen to him and try to understand what he is meaning with all of this, so you stay quiet.

“So if you’re not firing me, what is it that truly you wanted to discuss?”

The soft smirk he offers you makes you feel dizzy, and you find yourself holding your breath. As if a deep exhale it's going to betray you, to sell you out and reveal your deepest fantasies.

And quickly, you realize can’t fulfill Myeong’s promise, because you’re already too far gone inside your head.

“It was- not okay,” you sigh. “You’re just- way too young for me. I have an exhusband, and a child. I’m a fucking mother, Changbin”.

“So?” he asks you with one of his brows slightly raised. Defiantly, intimidating, ready to prove you wrong. “Does that mean I can't find you attractive?”

The sudden confession makes your heart feel as if you were on top of the roller coaster, despite Myeong bringing the possibility to the table earlier today.

“You shouldn’t,” you cut him short. “There’s nothing I can offer you. You should seek women your age”.

“But I want you,” he makes it very clear, with no hesitation in his voice. There’s a table between you two, but it is not enough of a barrier to prevent you from feeling him close. “It’s you who I think about when I jerk off, not them”.

There’s another silence that accompanies the realization sinking. Changbin is attracted to you, and he does jerks off thinking about you. You shouldn’t feel flattered, but you do, and it’s dangerous.

It has been a while since someone lusted after you like this.

“Changbin,” you swallow thickly, but not even that small amount of saliva does anything to ease the dry feeling in your throat. “You’re too young”.

He gives a smile that hides cockiness behind it, almost as if he wanted you to bring that up.

“I can treat you better than men your age, in every way,” the tip of his tongue grazes against his cheek in an arrogant manner that don’t really hate. The attitude looks good on him. “Even better than your exhusband”.

The heat is rising up to your cheeks, and it feels awkward. Your thighs are squeezing together, too, and you pray for him to not notice any crevice of all that you are trying so hard to hide.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep talking about this,” you mumble, standing up from your seat while he does the same. “Go home, and I’ll see you on Monday”. 

“So you’re really not going to fire me,” Changbin murmurs, dangerously approaching you. “Hm?”

You’re too close to spit it out. To give in, tell him that he can do with you whatever he wants. You’re too close to break in front of him, just like he is to pressing his body against yours.

“No,” you inhale, anticipating the contact of his hand against your hips.

“Is there a good reason behind such a decision?”

You swallow thickly, and think about how long it has been since the last time you felt someone’s body against yours —it has been ages, to say the least.

“I-” you can’t think straight. The mere touch of his hand against your clothes, and his deep gaze staring right through you is enough to overwhelm you. “Jihun likes you too much, I can’t- I don’t want to hire anybody else”.

“And you?” Changbin asks you, tilting his head. “Do you like me?”

What is the point of resisting? Now that his lips are too close to yours, and you're aching to feel his hips pressed against your body, you no longer care about anything you did a couple minutes ago. You like Changbin. You like his body, his gentleness, his sympathy. You like how attractive and confident he is, how he stares at you, how he desires you.

You like him. Isn’t that enough to give in?

“Just admit it,” he whispers, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek, “and I’ll take care of the rest”.

“What’s going to happen if I do?” you ask him, nibbling at the skin of your lower lip.

“You know what is going to happen,” Changbin scoffs, so softly it sounds like a melody rather than a teasing laugh. “Didn't the videos gave you enough hints about how desperate I am for you?”

You're not used to him being this straight-forward. Maybe you are a prude, because the way he is talking to you right now is making it difficult to hold the eye contact, and it's making your skin warmer.

Changbin is quick to pick up on that, on the way you can hardly look at him while he speaks, and the way you swallow thickly with each words that leaves his lips —he makes a mental note to remember it later.

“Tomorrow,” you tell him and, for the first time tonight, you feel the air actually getting to your lungs. “Jihun is spending the weekend with his father”.

He smiles cockily against your lips, leaning in further to place a quick peck on them. A quick peck that leaves you craving for more, that makes your chest feel heavy and your limbs numb.

“See you tomorrow, then”.

You can’t stop eyeing your phone screen, thinking that staring at the clock for too long will prevent it from letting time pass.

You've given in. And there's no turning back.

It’s 18:41. And it has been 18:41 for the past hour or so. The seconds are passing excruciatingly slow, and that does nothing to ease your anguish.

You tried to catch up on all the paperwork you left undone yesterday, went and lunch somewhere else rather than the company’s cafeteria to kill some time, and even texted Myeong asking her if she was busy because you wanted to talk to her. Myeong hasn’t texted you back yet, but the two other activities weren’t enough to distract you from the inevitable.

18:41, still. Anticipation is killing you, what have you gotten yourself into?

You can't shake off the feeling of his lips against yours, no matter how minimal and quick the contact was. It wasn’t a kiss in all the sense of the word, it was just a peck. Yet that is enough for your mind to keep on repeating the moment on loop, making you feel the pressure on your lips, despite him not being anywhere around you right now.

You glance at your phone screen again.

18:42. You swallow thickly.

The sudden buzz of your phone inside your hand makes your heart skips a beat, and you hold it right against your chest. Please let it be Myeong, you pray, feeling a pit in your stomach and the sudden sensation of having to visit the restroom. Please let it be Myeong.

[18:42, Myeong: Just got out of a meeting. What’s up?]

[18:42, You: I’m meeting Changbin after work]

Not even two seconds after pressing the sent button, your phone is buzzing repeatedly and Myeong's image is being shown right at the center of the screen.

“What?!” Her squealing is what welcomes you after you pick up the call. She screams so loud you have to move your phone away from your ear, allowing her to scream as much as she wants without compromising one of your senses. “Oh my fucking God!”

It takes her a while to regain her composure, but she gets there. After panting and letting out sighs of amusement, Myeong gives you the word.

“I’m nervous,” you admit. “I’m so fucking nervous, I feel like a teenager”.

“Of course,” Myeong sighs, and you don’t have to see her to know she is probably smiling. “Isn’t that expected? It has been a while since, you know, you put yourself out there”.

“Yeah, I know,” you murmur, biting the skin around your nails. “But God, I feel so pathetic”.

“Once you're being dicked down you're definitely going to forget that feeling, don't worry,” your friend jokes with a teasing chuckle, and you huff under your breath. “Or you can ask him to make you feel that way even more, if you’re into that”.

A quick train of thoughts passes through your mind, but Myeong's voice snaps you back into reality again.

“You don't have to feel nervous,” she continues. “It’s just sex. It's not like you haven't had it before”.

“Why am I even making such a big deal out of this?” You let out a frustrated sigh, and lean back against your office chair.

“You’re getting too much into your own head, again,” Myeong scolds you. “I’m praying he can get you out of there”.

“We’ll see,” your lips press into a thin line, and the thoughts that were pushed away by Myeong resuface again. “I have to go, my desk is a mess and I need to tidy it up before I leave”.

It’s part true, your desk is a mess. But you don’t think you can organize it in under 10 minutes, let alone do it while thinking about Changbin. So your say your goodbyes, hang up and stare at the glass doors that lead to your office for a bit too long.

What is Changbin like in bed?

You didn’t ask him, but it’s rather obvious he has a couple experiences of his own. You have some too, but none of them are worth telling —just normal sex, with a little bit of foreplay and, luckily, some cuddles in the end. Nothing wrong with that, but your experiences weren't nearly as fascinating as some you've heard over the past years.

The clock on your phone screen captures your attention, and you realize you can't dwell in your own thoughts too much.

18:58.

Despite knowing the password to the door keypad, Changbin waited for you to let him know you were already at the apartment to finally show up, wearing some tight jeans, and a plain black t-shirt.

Technically, you can leave your office now.

Upon arriving home, you opted for taking a shower and wear much more comfortable clothes.

They aren’t sexy, nor luring. They are just your regular pijamas, ones that make you feel comfortable and aren't as awkward as those work skirts that makes you feel like your stomach it's all the way up to your chest.

They are just your pijamas, but Changbin’s gaze and the soft smirk that peeks from the corners of his lips tells you that he likes them.

“Do you want some wine?” You ask him, just as he follows you around the living room.

He gets the sense that you might need a glass, so he agrees. You grab the bottle of wine he brought yesterday, along with two glasses, and join him in the couch, sitting right next to him while leaving the stuff on top of a small coffee table. Not having a whole table as a barrier feels kind of weird now, and you sigh loudly when you take into account how close you really are from him.

“Thank you, by the way,” you mumble, pouring him some wine. “For the dinner, yesterday. I ate it after you left, it was really good”.

He offers you a soft smile, and you hand him the glass. Is this too formal? you start thinking. Why would I be drinking some wine, on a Friday afternoon, with the college student who babysits my son?

But then again, you’re about to get fucked by him too. So moral questionings doesn’t really matter this time.

“You’re welcome,” Changbin coos. “I’d be happy to cook something else for you another time”.

Another time, the words resonate in your head over and over again. Will this happen another time, too? What will things be like on Monday, for example, when he shows up for work? Will things be weird, or will he be casual about it? What happens if you soon realize it was a mistake?

You’re getting too much into your own head, again, so you clear your throat and shake your head.

“Is everything okay?” he asks you, his lips tinted with the cherry color of the wine. The sight makes you want to lean in and kiss him again, to taste the sweet flavor off his lips, but you’re not brave enough to make the first move.

“I’m just nervous,” you admit, staring at the glass between your hands. “It’s weird that we both know why you are here”.

Changbin lets out a soft scoff.

“And?”

“It feels odd, you know?” You lick your lips. “I don't know what to say, or where to begin. I'm not rushed to get into it, it's just... I don't know what the fuck to do”.

“You don’t need to do anything,” he reassures you, taking one last sip from the wine before putting his glass on the table again. “Why don’t you leave everything to me, hm?”

You gulp loudly and nod, unsure of what that means. But either way, you feel relieved.

He places his hand on your naked thigh, and then guides it a little bit further up. It’s a suggestive touch, but not obsecene —still, you feel your breath hitching. You don't even bother to try and hide your reaction, because the proud smile in his face tells you that he noticed it.

“Come here,” he whispers, guiding his available hand to softly grip your chin and turning it to face him. He doesn’t give you time to process the action, and just crashes his lips into yours. It starts like a peck, but when you part your lips and invite his tongue in, it turns into something else.

Changbin smiles against your lips, again, a proud smile. You can feel his soft scoff when he does so, right before losing yourself in the kiss. A kiss that tastes like wine and mint, that is making your thighs squeeze together even with his hand almost in between them, and that has you gasping for air when you realice you’re running out of breath.

He lets go of you to breathe, but kisses you right after without losing any time. You don’t get to complain because you’re dying for him to kiss you again, so you just take all his lips are offering you.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve fantasized about this,” he murmurs in between kisses. The hand that was forcing your head against his suddenly leaves the sides of your face and travels all the way to your hips, and you instinctively shift your position on the couch until you’re on top of him.

He kisses you one last time on your lips before descending to your neck and chest, peppering kisses all over your naked skin and nibbling at the flesh of your most sensitive spots. You latch your fingers against his dark locks, pulling him in further as you arch your back.

“Changbin,” you sigh, closing your eyes. He hums in response, and you continue, “it has been a while since I’ve been with someone”.

He smirks proudly against your skin and his cock gets even harder; there is something enticing about you being too unfamiliar with sex these days. Knowing that your ex husband, who you utterly despise now, was the last man to ever touch you, turns him on in unimaginable ways.

He has confidence in knowing that probably no man has ever made you feel the same way he is going to make you feel tonight.

“I don’t know why I am telling you this,” you exhale, your body instinctively grinding against his. You can feel some pressure between your legs, and you get wet just by knowing he is hard. Are you really this touch starved?

“You can tell me anything you want,” Changbin smiles, looking up to you with quite a gaze you hadn't seen before.

You whimper when you feel his lips too close to your breasts, and suddenly the clothes you’re wearing feel too uncomfortable. Not only that, but you take him at his word and your mouth starts talking on its own, without your brain knowing about it. Without making any sense. 

“I touched myself,” you sigh, looking down on him while he sucks the naked skin of your flesh. “When I found the videos, I touched myself while watching them”.

He let out a quiet chuckle, and his cock twitches at the sudden confession.

“Did you come?” his voice is low, and raspier than it usually is, “watching me stroke my cock with your underwear?”

You swallow thickly, loud enough for him to notice it. That makes him bring back the mental note he made yesterday, when he realized how receptive you are to dirty words.

“I bet you did,” he continues, and you feel your skin getting warmer with each thing he says. Not only that, but the way he is groping your ass and hips isn't helping you in keeping quiet.

“Y-yes,” it’s all you can answer before your words get muffle with your whines, and your hips acquire a pace of its own against his. “Fuck”.

“What where you thinking while watching those videos?” He removes one strap of your tank top and lets it hang around your arm, placing a kiss on the place that was occupied by it just now. “Tell me”.

There were plenty of thoughts roaming around your head as you watched every video, but there was one that predominated over the rest.

“I was thinking about you, eating me out,” even saying those words out loud makes you feel flustered, but you really can't begin to care. For some reason, the way he is looking at you just makes you want to tell him more, let him know about all the things you've thought. “I was- really, just thinking about having your face between my legs, kissing me and just- you know”.

His gaze darkens when you tell him that, and the fabric of his jeans against his crotch starts being unbearable. He can't spend any more time without knowing how you actually taste and smell, other than those used panties he has jerked off to.

At the same time, though, he wants to take his time with you. He doesn't want to rush anything. He doesn't want to jump straight into it. He wants to savor it, just like he spent doing it the past months when all he had was your underwear and the faint smell of cologne you always left around the apartment.

“Yeah?” he purrs in a way that makes your whole skin get cover in goosebumps. He sounds so good when he is aroused, you wonder if he sounds this nice when he is being pleasured.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I want- that”.

He stops himself for a while, and looks directly into your eyes.

“Do you want me to taste you?”

You nod almost immediately, and you think it's pathetic but Changbin finds it endearing how desperate you are. You really haven’t been touched in a while, he thinks.

“But first,” he guides his hands to the hems of your tank top, and he pulls it up higher as a way of motioning for you to take it off. You follow compliantly and raise it over your arms, discarding it somewhere next to the couch.

Changbin stares at your breasts, and then makes eye contact with you. He holds a teasing gaze that is making you look away timidly.

“Pretty,” he whispers, tracing the lace with the tip of his index finger.  “You wore this for me?”

You know he doesn't mean to embarrass you, but the way he is bringing it up makes you feel shy. What else were you supposed to wear? The sports bra and high-briefs you wear on a regular?

His fingers graze against the hems of the short’s waistband and he pulls them down slightly, only to find a pair of laced panties that match the bra. He chuckles softly, but cockily, and that only makes your skin get even hotter.

“Of course you did,” he murmurs, with such a teasing tone that you're not sure if you like it or you hate it. “What else have you done for me, hm?”

 You stare at him while he sneaks a hand inside your pijamas, between the fabric of your shorts and your underwear. Two of his fingers come in contact with your clothed pussy, sliding them along your slit while he quietly groans.

“All of this?” he asks you, getting his hand out of your shorts. His fingers are glistening underneath the dim lights of the living room, and you’re surprised at how wet his digits are —you can’t recall a moment in which someone has made your body react like that. “Just for me?”

He loses no time into guiding said fingers into his mouth, he loses no time guiding said fingers into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around them and sucking them off while letting out a soft groan. There's a faint taste of you in them, but it is not enough. Nothing will ever be enough other than tasting you himself, to drag his tongue against your pussy and have you coming all over himself.

So, with a quick movement, he switches the position yet again and sits you right on the couch, kneeling in front of you while he drags your shorts and underwear off of you.  

No matter how many times Changbin fantasized about this sight, none of those thoughts compared to the real you. The one in front of him right now, with his legs spread and his cunt soaked.

“Fuck,” he murmurs quietly and, for a second, fear fear washes upon him. What if he gets to finally taste you, and he loses control of himself? What if he comes in his pants right there? He is nearly about to come untouched, and he fears that your taste might trigger his release.

He wraps both of his arms under your thighs and pull you closer to him, making you slide against the couch in a much more comfortable position for you both.

“Is this what you thought about when you were touching yourself?” Changbin asks you, feeling his breath too close to your core that you’re desperate to pull him against it. “Having me between your legs like this?”

You nod eagerly, anticipating the contact of his wet lips against your pussy. He is so close, you can practically feel his nose brushing against your clit.

“Please,” you whimper, your hips grinding ever so slightly against nothing.You’re desperate for his touch, and he is just as desperate to touch you.

He looks at you, and then at the sight in front of him. Never in a thousand years Changbin thought he would have you all for himself. You, the woman of his wildest dreams, the mother of the kid he babysits as a side gig.

Changbin would be lying if the whole age gap situation didn't turn him on even more. It's not particularly the reason why he got so fixated on you, but it was definitely something that he couldn't ignore. You being older than him only fueled his desire to pleasure you, to prove to you that he is better than every man you can think of.

However, he thinks you're conflicted by it. The age gap. You were so reluctant to fall into his charms that you thought it had everything to do with the fact that he was way younger than you. Which partly, it was.

But truth is that the whole thing turns you on too, despite you trying to deny it to yourself.

“You smell so fucking good,” he whispers underneath his breath, digging his finger tips on the flesh of your thighs. Your heart is going at a thousand miles per hour, and you are impatient to feel him against you. So impatient you latch your fingers onto his hair, and guide him even closer to you, until his nose finally makes contact with your sensitive bud.

“Please,” you beg weakly, one more time.

And the next thing you feel, is his tongue lapping at your slit while the tip of his nose presses against your clit even harder, making you feel a weird but pleasant stimulation by doing so.

“God,” he groans against you, gripping your legs harsher. You can hear him moaning and hissing against your pussy, devouring it, licking and kissing every inch of it. He is kind of messy with it, but you adore it. “You taste- fuck, you’re so good”.

You arch your back against the couch, tightening your legs on either side of him as much as the grip he has on you allows you to.

“I want you to come all over me,” Changbin tells you, spitting all over his fingers and your pussy. “Show me how much you’ve thought about this”.

He then sinks his middle and ring finger inside your cunt, feeling your warmth and the way your walls clench around him. You’ve fucked yourself with your fingers, countless of times. But they can’t compare to the way his feel, how much thicker they are, how better they fill you up.

“Shit,” you murmur, furrowing your eyebrows and closing your eyes when Changbin’s tongue makes contact again with your clit, licking it and softly sucking on it while his fingers. “Just- like that”.

The noise his fingers make every time he thrusts them inside you, and your moans combined with his only send you closer to the edge, reminding you who is the man between your legs and how deliciously he is wrecking you.  

“Who would’ve thought we were going to end up like this, hm?,” Changbin groans, staring right at you while sucking on your clit. “With you practically grinding your pussy against my face in the living room of your apartment?”

You moan at his words, and keep on bucking your hips against him.

“Did your ex husband ever did this for you, right here?” he asks, and when he feels you clenching almost aggressively around his fingers he realices he’s just discovered something. “Did he taste you like this?”

Because of his job babysitting Jihun, Changbin is fully aware who Kyungho is. They know each other personally, and you've seen them engage in small talk every time Kyungho comes to pick up Jihun to spend the weekend with him.

You don’t see the point in thinking about your ex husband right now, but you find it hot when Changbin is the one to bring his name up.

“No,” you whine, gripping his hair with one of your hands while the other grasps the edge of the couch. “He didn’t”.

“Was he good?” Changbin asks, tilting his head at you. “Was he better than me?”

You shake your head, desperate to come, “n-no”.

“No? He wasn’t this good?” There’s a cocky tone in his voice, and you love it. You love how confident he is getting now that the topic is on the table, and because of how honest you’re really being. It is definitely true —your ex husband wasn’t this good at eating your pussy.

“No!” you gasp, feeling your orgasm getting closer and closer with each word that falls from his lips.

“Who would’ve thought,” he chuckles lowly, offering you a tempting smile, “that men your age can’t make you feel like I can”.

“F-fuck, Changbin,” you feel a spark of electricity that starts on your core and drifts all the way to your feet, making you tremble underneath his hold. You’re almost there, but for some reason you’re trying to hold it in.

As if you wanted to live in this feeling forever, in the sight of Changbin’s dark eyes staring right at you with a desire that you haven’t been able to find anywhere else, in any other man.

“Come for me,” he tells you, fucking you even faster with his fingers. “Make a mess, I need you wet for my cock”.

Him and his fucking dirty talk. It leaves you with no time to process anything, as you’re now coming undone for him, riding his fingers and grinding your hips against his palm while you try to hold tight to the couch, doing everything you can to endure the stimulation.

“Don’t run for me,” Changbin groans, forcing your legs open and holding your right in place. “I know you can take it”.

A sharp, painful moan escapes your lips and your body jolts right in its place, with him still between your legs. Waves and waves of pleasure wash upon you, debilitating you and making you feel dizzy. This is the hardest you've come, ever, and there's no doubt of that.

“C-changbin,” you whine, matching the slow pace of his thrusts with the movements of your hips. You're descending now from your high, and you're again looking forward to feel that ecstasy again.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, smearing your wetness with his fingers. He gives you a soft slap to your pussy that makes your body shakes, and he smiles at how overstimulated you are. “You’re so wet, my cock is going to slide right inside you”.

Your pussy clenches around thin air at the idea.

“N-not yet,” you tell him, and kiss him when he hovers over you to place a peck on your lips. He kisses you deeply again, fucking your mouth with his tongue, allowing you to taste your own orgasm from him.

“Not yet?” Changbin purrs, biting your lower lip and pulling it just enough for you to whine.

“I want to suck you off”.

As desperate as he is to bury his cock inside you, who is he to say no? It’s comically how it all happens too fast, but in the blink of an eye you’ve already swaped positions and he is now sitting on top of the mess you made on the couch, with his legs spread and his jeans unbuckled just enough to free his clothed bulge.

You kneel in front of him, and your pair of curious hands trace the silhouette of his erection over his underwear. With ease, you lower his clothes and free his hard cock, that is already leaking with precum and it’s warm to the touch. There are several, prominant veins that start at the base and fade right near the tip.

Fuck, it’s making your mouth water.

“Good enough?” he asks you, cockily. Perhaps you’re giving yourself away by the way you stare at him like it’s the first time you ever see a cock —it might be, because you can’t think of any other that’s just as appealing as his.

You just nod and grab it by the base, gripping it tightly while you guide your mouth from the top and all along it. It’s taking him a lot of effort not to bust right then and there, with your lips wrapped around his tip while your hand squeeze the base and part of his testicles.

“Swirl your tongue,” he purrs, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Get it nice and wet, remember I’m fucking you with it later”.

Like Changbin, you prefer it messy. So you do as he asks you to, you spit on it and smear your own drool all over its length, not caring if you make a mess in the middle.

“You said it's been a long time since you've been with someone,” he groans, kicking his head back and closing his eyes. “But you're still so good at sucking cock. You didn't forget about that?"

It catches you by surprise, but you find yourself getting wetter at the comment. He is not necessarily implying anything, but the tint of humiliation it carries makes you aroused.

“I like that,” you gasp, breathing for air after having all of himself inside you. “I like it when you talk to me like that. It makes me feel kind of humiliated and I like it”.

It isn’t a shocker that his words have an effect on you —yesterday Changbin noticed how weak you are for dirty talk. However, it is a shocker how you trust him with that information, indirectly asking him to do it more.

“Aren’t you full of surprises,” he chuckles.  

Perhaps this conversation should’ve taken place earlier, when you two were having a glass of wine. You decided to just go for it, without talking about preferences, likes or dislikes.

It’s not too late to get to know each other, you think. Even when his cock is deep inside your throat and he already made you come once tonight.

“I’m just figuring it out,” you tell him, smacking the tip of his cock against your tongue. Had it been any other time, or any other setting, you probably wouldn’t have had the courage to talk openly about this. “There’s a lot of things I wish to try”.

His eyebrows are furrowed, and his half-lidded eyes are staring right at yours, with his lips parted and a couple of quiet groans escaping through them.

“Tell me about them,” he groans, grabbing a fistful of your hair.

You stroke him softly, coating all his length with your drool and his precum. You can feel his cock twitching inside your fist, and you can also feel how his body spasms every time you squeeze him a bit too hard. You can tell he is close to coming, and you truly wouldn’t mind.

The thing is, you can’t wait to feel him inside you. So you wish to edge him just a bit because there’s something you want.

“Creampies,” you murmur, smiling shyly, while jerking him off. “Not just… creampies but- I want you to come inside me. Watch how it leaks out, knowing it was you who did it”.

You know you’ve hit a weak spot in Changbin when his hips buck against your fist, and he lets out a quiet whimper that shows just how needy he is for you.

He has thought about it, an insane amount of times. But Changbin isn’t in it just for the sake of a creampie, no. He wants to fill you up, completely. To hear you begging for his release, to wrap your legs around his waist and prevent him from pulling out.

Would that be a bit too much to bring up the first time you fuck?

“I can’t wait to be inside you,” he whispers, caressing the sides of your face before putting his thumb inside your mouth. “I want to fuck you right now”.

He stands up from the couch and you follow, feeling a bit confused about the sudden movements. You spent the past half hour or so sucking each other off in this couch, you thought you’d be fucking there too. But it seems as if he prefers a true bed over a couch, and you too, so you don’t say anything.

“This angle is better, right?” Changbin asks you once you’re in your room.

“Huh?”

“The camera,” he replies, grabbing you by your hips and pulling you closer to him. “its placed right above the television, in front of your bed isn’t it?”

You blink a couple of times, trying to understand what he’s all about. Perhaps you're too dizzy from your orgasm and the way his taste lingers on the tip of your tongue, but you're not following him. Still, you nod because he is right —the camera is right in front of your bed.

“I want to fuck you in front of it,” Changbin murmurs, and when the realization hits you can feel your knees going numb. “I want you to go back to this tape when you feel like having my cock inside those holes of you, and I want you to touch yourself watching us”.

You swallow thickly and feel your nipples hardening against his chest, whimpering when you feel the slightest stimulation.

He gives you one last kiss before guiding you into your bed, laying down as you watch how he strips for you.

The way his muscles keep on flexing as he takes off his clothes is hypnotizing. You can see every inch of his soft skin, every curve, every flexed part that demands your attention. You want him to fuck you while he’s hugging you tightly, to trap you between his arms and not allowing you to move.

You want him to use his strength to overpower you, to pin you down and fuck you mercilessly against your own bed.

A bed that you once shared with your ex husband, a bed that will now remind you of that time you fucked with a college student, way younger than you.

“Come here,” he whispers, grabbing your legs and just sliding you over the bed. He then crawls on top of you, positioning himself between your legs while you spread them wide open for him.

God, how much your body turns him on.

“You don’t want me to-”

“No,” you shake your head, wrapping your arms around his neck when he leans over you. “Please don’t use a condom”.

 He bites his lower lip when he hears those words from you, and his mind spirals again into this silly fetish of him. Impregnation.

“You’ve wanted this all along, don’t you?” Changbin asks you, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m sure this isn’t the first time you think about me fucking you raw, letting me come inside you”.

Embarrassingly enough, it isn’t.

“I thought you said yesterday I was too young for you,” he pouts, pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance. Again, you shouldn’t feel aroused when you’re reminded about the elephant in the room, but you are. “Do you still think the same?”

 “Jesus,” you sigh, pulling him closer to you. “Don’t remind me”.

“Why not?” he teases you, leaving quick pecks on your cheeks and jaw. “You can’t accept the fact that it’s me who is making you feel this good? Someone that apparently is too young for you, but just made you come harder than your ex husband ever did?”

Again, you grind your hips when he says that.

“I’m starting to think you like me bringing him up,” he chuckles. “Every time I say something like that, you get more desperate”.

“It’s- not that,” you try to explain, arching your back against him. “I don’t- know why it turns me on when you say things like that. When you remind me is you who’s between my legs, someone who is not supposed to”.

“Someone who is not supposed to?” he murmurs, leaving a trail of kisses from your cheeks, along your jaw and into the crook of your neck. “Miss, I know we've thought about this since the day you hire me for the babysitter position”.

The low tone of his voice, and the way he whispers such things against your ear is making you go insane. You need him inside you, and you need him to stop talking if you wish to elongate your orgasm as much as you can.

“Or are you going to deny it?” You don’t answer, which only proves him right. “Don’t go around saying we shouldn’t be fucking, because that’s something you’ve wanted since we met”.

It's only after he finishes when you feel a harsh, sharp thrust of his hips around you, and a sudden stretch that's both painful and pleasant at the same time. He sinks his hips against yours, and his cock bottoms out inside you.

“Fuck,” you groan, digging your nails deeper into the flesh of his biceps.

“You know, that pussy of yours did a good job at coming,” he groans through gritted teeth. “It slipped right inside”.

You moan at his words and spread your legs further, wrapping them around his hips. Changbin gives you a couple of times to get used to his girth, and only starts moving when you ask him to.

“It feels so-,” you want to speak, but it’s practically impossible —you’re too distracted by the feeling of his cock stretching you out. “Shit, you feel so hard inside me”.

“I bet all the other dicks you've had before didn't fill you right,” he groans, thrusting his cock iinside you. “but don't worry, you can have mine whenever you feel like having something worthy between your legs”.

You love how cocky he turns in bed.

“Right there,” you gasp when his cock reaches a particular spot inside your pussy. That spot, that no one but you and his fingers has found before. “Fuck, f-fuck, right there, right there”.

He keeps fucking you for a couple more minutes until he starts feeling your walls clenching around him, similar to when he was fucking you with his fingers. He knows you’re close, and there’s nothing he wants more than for you to come all over his cock.

“I can feel you squeezing my cock,” Changbin hisses, forcing your chin to face him. “Don’t tell me you’re about to come again”.

“S-shit,” you cry. “Yes, f-fuck I’m so close”.

“Already?” he asks you, holding your chin firmly. “Is my cock that good?”

You don’t know what to answer, but his cock it’s the best you’ve ever taken. So maybe yes, his cock is that good.

“And to think that you almost reject me,” he murmurs, his dark, half-lidded eyes fixed on yours. “Now you don’t care that I’m younger than you, do you? Because every time I remind you of it, you clench even harder around me, practically begging for my cum”.

You moan loudly, shamelessly. He is right, and he has been right all along.

“I didn’t think you would give in to me,” Changbin groans against your skin, “but I can’t believe all it took me was to jerk off with your underwear for you to realice that you wanted me”.

It’s embarrassing. But nothing far from the truth.

“I’m- close,” you whisper, feeling the rush of pleasure spreading all over your body. “Please- keep, keep fucking me like this”.

“Open your eyes,” he tells you right after leaving a wet kiss on your cheek. “I want you to look at me when you come”.

It’s difficult when the pleasure is too overwhelming, but you still try.

“If you close them, I’ll pull out,” he wanrs you. “And I know that’s not what you want, so you better look at me while you come. I want you to remember who made you feel this good”.

It doesn’t take you long to reach your orgasm, especially after all the things he said. You grasp onto his shoulders tightly, while your body trembles violently underneath him.

You try so hard to keep your eyes open that they end up rolling to the back of your head, but that sight only makes Changbin’s cock spasm inside your pussy just at the same time you clench around him. He is getting really close, and the way you’re moaning and crying for him is only pushing him further to the edge.

“Look at me,” he demands, right after you’re done reaching your high and collapsing onto the bed. Your arms are still wrapped around his neck, and your legs around his waist. You don’t want him to pull out, you want him to fill you up, to give you all that he has been saving for you.

You stare at him with dazed and glossy eyes, waiting to feel his warmth spreading all along your tummy.

You need him to come inside you, and you need him to know how badly you want it.

“Please,” you beg, grabbing both sides of his face with your hands. “Please come inside me, Changbin”.

The overstimulation is becoming painful, but you’re willing to overcome it as long as he rewards you in the way you want to be rewarded.

“Promise me you’ll keep it all inside you,” Changbin says, his skin glistening in sweat while his dark locks stick to his forehead. “If it leaks out, I’ll fuck it back inside you again”.

“Yes,” you moan, arching your back and pressing your chest against his. “I’ll keep it inside me. Please, just- come for me”.

It’s your weak pleas what really triggers his orgasm. That, and the promise you just made. How you’re willing to keep it inside you, even while knowing the risks of it.

He comes a lot, you can feel it even inside you. He groans, and pants as he comes off his high, hiding his face in the crook of your neck while he tries to stabilize his breathing. You’re still sensitive from your previous orgasms, and feeling him buried deep inside you while he shoots his sticky arousal isn’t doing any favors to the painful overstimulation, but it feels good.

It makes you crave more of him. Even when he is still inside your pussy.

It feels nice to be full. And you wonder when you’re going to get the chance to be fucked by him again.

“Fuck,” Changbin sighs, Pulling out of you delicately, trying hard not to stimulate you further. You whine when you feel the sudden absence of him, and he gives you a cocky smirk. “Miss me already?”

You get up with your elbows and arms against the mattress as you stare right down to you crotch. You can't see it, but you can feel his cum leaking out of you, staining your bed sheets.

“Thought I made you a promise,” you smile, teasingly. “Your cum is leaking out, and I don’t see you fucking it back again”.

You’re surely going to be the death of him, but he has fantasized about you for so long that he is conditioned to get hard any time he sees anything that has to do with you.

Good thing he has great stamina.

And that he is going to fuck you sooner than you’d expect him.

If you wish to support my work further, you can leave a reblog/ask/ comment. I also have a ko-fi, in case you want to (and are able to) leave me a tip. As a broke, college student I will highly appreciate it (the job hunting it's definitely not going anywhere, anytime soon. I'm doing my best though!). As I'm based in México, even a dollar helps me tons.

[1d1195]

Physics Extra I

Read the rest here: Physics

Some great inspo from my 🌼-anon.

Hope you like it 💕

A little angsty, a little fluffy. Full disclosure--I'm not sure if I was tired or if I'm stupid, but I couldn't remember what year of college they were in and which Physics level they were in so I'm going to clarify here and I'll fix it later on. It shouldn't be too much of an issue. I left it a bit ambiguous if I remember correctly.

~2.5k words

Part of her worried this would happen. The flare of the savior complex paired with her insecurity finally won out. Time spent apart over break helped their budding relationship. It led to an unbelievably passionate reunion after the new year and return for the spring semester. The kisses from Harry’s lips on her mouth and trailing down her body made her warm just thinking about it and it was nearly a month—almost two—ago.

But now, Harry no longer needed a physics tutor. They didn’t have a class together. Fortunately, they did spend most nights together. Harry took her to parties and broke the hearts of every girl that had pined for him for so long. He walked her to class when he was free, and she met him at the gym just to say hi and run on the treadmill while he did his routines with his friends.

Niall and Louis were over every Saturday morning, hungover and whining for her pancakes before she went to the bookstore. Harry spent many nights in her apartment, snuggled around her and it felt so good. So unbelievably good.

She just couldn’t get her mind to agree that it was a good thing.

It was her own doing. How could she not know he would find out. It was exactly the kind of thing that happened in a rom-com or a sit-com or any comedy really. The irony of it all was not lost on her. She should have known.

For someone that studied Physics, balanced two campus jobs, and managed to have a boyfriend, she was an idiot.

*

Harry was at the gym again. It was either the gym or pacing the floor of his apartment. After a day of pacing and grumbling to himself, Louis insisted he leave and do something productive before he put a rut in their floor and lost their security deposit.

Studying was hardly his forte prior to dating her and now she wasn’t there to help him with the finer details of studying—like actually getting him to focus—he was a lost cause. Just being in her presence made it easier to focus. Like a little reminder that she was proud of him.

Thus, he was at the gym, the second time in the day. At the very least he would break his personal record twice in a day. The longer he stayed there, the worse his frustration got. His form was impeccable. Niall kept his eyebrows in a fixed uprise on his forehead. He whistled lowly.

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

“Do you know how stupid you’re being?”

“Inform me, please.”

“She’s the whole package, Harry. She’s smart, beautiful, funny, and I thought the pancakes were impressive, but the way she chugs a beer is honestly...” he chuckled. “I want my own tutoring lesson.”

Harry ignored him and made his way for the bench press. “Shut up,” he repeated.

“Harry, it’s ridiculous. You love her,” he reminded him.

“Spot me or shut up.”

Niall sighed. “If I don’t get pancakes soon, I’m going to lose it,” he warned Harry. It had been two weeks. They had barely spoken only murmuring hi when they bumped into one another. People ogled them before they started dating, now it only amplified.

“You’re a grown up, tell her y’want pancakes,” he muttered straining under the weight of his barbell.

“Christ, Harry,” he shook his head. “You’re a grown up. Talk to her.”

Harry did two reps and then his arms started to shake. It was too much for one day on top of the fact that without her help studying she was able to distract him here too.

“Why would she say that?” He murmured.

“Say what?”

“That...” he rubbed a hand over his face. His shirt was soaked with sweat. His scalp was itchy, he wanted to go home. Well, he really wanted to go to her place and lay with his head in her lap while she ran her fingers through his hair. They would watch a movie and fall asleep on the couch and eventually Harry would wake up and carry her to her room where they would snuggle and dream until the morning. “That s’not serious.”

“Well...have you asked her to be your girlfriend?” Niall sat on the floor while Harry straddled the seat. Niall stretched.

“I thought it was implied when we spend every night together.”

“Harry, she’s a nice, sweet girl.”

“Thanks, Niall. I didn’t notice,” he rolled his eyes.

“Well,” he shrugged.

“Let’s go.”

“Fine,” Niall hopped up, grabbed their waters. “But I’m not gonna snuggle with you the way she does.”

*

“This is ridiculous, you know it’s ridiculous right?”

She was lying on the floor between the TV and the coffee table, facedown. An unintelligible groan went into the carpet, and she tilted her head up briefly and then smacked it back on the floor gently. “Fuck.”

“You could easily apologize,” Sarah told her.

“Why did I say that?” She groaned.

“It’s new! And Harry...”

She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “Harry’s been nothing but nice to me. He’s done nothing but shown me that he likes me and cares about me. I just ruined it. I humiliated him and I couldn’t even deny it. I feel so...bad. Who does that?!”

Sarah sat on her hips making her grunt. “You. You did that, you idiot.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

“Well, fix it!”

“Sarah,” she sighed and put hands on her eyes. “He’s never going to trust me.”

“Of course, he does. The only thing that’s going through that stupid head of his is that he hasn’t made you feel more secure.”

“But he did.”

“So tell him. It was a lapse in judgment. Alcohol. Tell him you had a cold. He won’t care. He just wants you to know you can trust him.”

“But I am so...not his type.”

“Well, hate t’break it to y’kitten,” she mimicked Harry’s accent and her nickname. “You are now.”

*

“So how did you meet Harry?” She knew the girl was drunk. She didn’t get her name. It was Shauna or Shayna, or something. She couldn’t remember. Instead, she sipped her own alcohol, glanced around to see Harry playing beer pong with Louis and Niall.

“Uh...” she swallowed. “We had Physics last semester. He needed tutoring.”

“Oh, that’s so cute!” But not-Shauna didn’t make it sound like it was cute. It was so condescending. It made her feel awkward and almost ashamed of how they met. She wished they had met at a party or a bar. Something more college-y—although what was more college-y than meeting in class?

“Uh...yeah, it was,” because it was. It was cute. The way Harry came up to her in the middle of the dining hall—it was out of a movie. He was handsome, perfect, and so nice to her. Even though she heard rumors and felt inadequate about the type of girl he normally surrounded himself with, it was undeniably cute. It was tragic she felt ashamed of their meeting.

“So how long is that?” Not-Shauna continued.

“Pardon?”

“How long have you been a couple, officially?”

It was innocuous. Four months. All she had to say was four months.

“Oh...well...we haven’t really discussed...” she cleared her throat. “I’m not sure of the exact date...” she looked at the contents of her cup. “I don’t think it’s been…” nothing was coming to the surface to explain what they were. Not accurately.

Four months.

That’s all she had to say.

She’d been studying physics for a while. Time dilation was something she only considered in movies and in theory. Einstein’s kind of thing. Not her thing. At a party when she was just asked how long she had been dating the man that spent five out of seven nights in her bed, wrapped around her...hell inside of her... was not a place for physics.

But somehow, the hours ticked by in place of the minutes. The carbonation of the soda water mixing with her vodka was moving in slow motion. It was like she could count every bubble that reached the surface and popped. “Oh, you’re not...official,” not-Shayna said.

Again, that condescension was so uncomfortable, she nearly dropped her drink. The time dilation started again. She was counting the bubbles. “Well, actually—” But not-Shayna was gone. The movie that was her life immediately turned into a horror film. “Oh no,” she mumbled to herself.

The minutes that were hours suddenly turned into seconds. Someone whispered something to someone else. The game of telephone sped by in seconds.

Harry missed his final pong shot. He whipped around to her, her cup halfway to her mouth. Her cheeks turned beet red. As red as the cup she sipped from.

Anger. Anger was an appropriate reaction. A fiery gaze, a flushed complexion. Even hands in fists were understandable for her faux pas.

Anger would have been preferable to the hurt expression on Harry’s sweet face.

*

After her shift at the bookstore, she was lying on the floor again. Sarah invited her to go shopping. But she couldn’t. Nothing seemed right. An idiot. That’s what she was. A Physics student with a 3.9 GPA and she was probably the dumbest person on campus.

There was a knock on her door. “Sarah, I cannot shop,” she groaned. “I’ll probably trip and fall in the food court and ruin some poor teen couple’s movie and dinner date and they’ll never live happily ever after because that’s all I do. Ruin a perfectly good couple.”

“Um... not Sarah,” she jumped off the floor. Laying down to standing in less than one second. She sprinted to the door and yanked it out of the way. “Hi,” Harry said softly.

“Hi,” she answered awkwardly.

“Can I... come in?”

She swallowed, opened the door wider, and moved out of the way. He hurried in, sat on the couch. It was like the first time Harry came over to help decorate. It was basically his spot. When everything made sense. She felt more at ease seeing him in her space again; making himself comfortable.

But comfort only lasted seconds because he looked… anxious. Which only fueled her anxiety.

He rubbed his hand on the back of his head and sighed. Dropped his hands into his lap. “I think we should talk, kitten.”

“I shouldn’t have said it!” She blurted. Her own pacing started. Her heart rate started to fly to a dangerous level. She was pacing in her floor spot that she designated for laying. “I don’t know what was wrong with me! Sarah told me to tell you it was a cold or the alcohol... or maybe I had a stroke. I don’t even remember what she said to tell you. But I don’t have a reason. Which is worse. I wish I had a reason, Harry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I should have said anything but what I said. You have made me so happy over the last four months,” she was still pacing looking like a psychopath. “You have made me feel so safe and so... loved and I don’t know why I had such a lapse in horrible judgment like that. I mean you made me a hot chocolate bar for God’s sake! You don’t mind studying and you don’t care that I drool like a teething infant when I sleep. Even when I get it all over your pillow or your shirt. I feel so terrible, Harry. So completely terrible. I don’t know how I can be so smart in class and make everyone jealous and then go and say that about you. Or not say! I don’t know what's wrong with me but—”

Harry was quiet while she rambled and paced. It was cute. Sweet even. It was nice to know she was rattled, selfishly—they both paced when upset. It was sweet. Cute to know they shared it. He smiled softly. “Do y'want t’be m’girlfriend?”

She stopped pacing, finally. Her heart finally slowed, she put a hand to her chest, like it would keep it slow as she looked at him squarely for the first time since she started ranting. “What?”

“Well,” his grin grew. He looked at his lap again, his palms rubbing on his thighs. “It might be easier on us both t’tell you I love you. Y’know...if y’were m’girlfriend. Might be easier on you t’answer that kind of question if y’had a date t’tell people of when we’ll have our official anniversary.”

“You’re not breaking up with me?”

He chuckled. “No,” he smiled. “Also have t’be officially together t’break up, kitten.”

“You’re not going to wait till I say yes and then ask to break up, are you?”

Harry stood finally, put his hands on her cheeks to hold her in place. He kissed her forehead for an extended moment. It felt so good. Like the other hundreds of times that he did it over the last few months. In two weeks, it felt like a drought. “M’sorry I didn’t reassure you,” he wrapped his arms around her body and instantly she sank into his embrace.

“Did you say you loved me?”

He nodded. “M’hmm,” he hummed.

“Oh.”

“Do y’want me t’take it back.”

“No, thank you.”

He chuckled into her hair. “S’very polite of you, kitten,” he pulled back. “I love you,” he repeated, gazing into her eyes. “Loved you the moment y’agreed t’help me. A poor, sorry, hopeless, Physics-less sap like me.”

“You’re not so hopeless.”

“M’hopeless ‘bout you, kitten,” he assured her.

“I love you too," she gazed up at him, her eyes wide, expressive and so very sweet, "by the way.”

“I thought s’what y’meant in all that rambling," he chuckled.

She didn't laugh. “I’m sorry Harry, truly. That was so not okay.”

Harry shrugged. “I jus’ missed you, kitten. S’okay. I get why y'said it. We never really defined it,” he promised. “M’sorry I didn’t ask sooner or come make up sooner.”

She sighed into his chest. “Will you stay tonight?” She asked quietly. Her voice muffled by his shirt. The thought of being snuggled together made her so happy.

Harry wanted to make a joke about inertia. Or an object at rest. Something. But it wouldn’t come. He was too happy to have made up.

“Try and stop me, kitten.”

“Niall and Louis make you come here?” She asked.

“M’supposed t’ask if you’ll make them pancakes for dinner once we’ve properly made up," Harry chuckled and murmured into her hair.

“What’s ‘properly’ mean?" She asked innocently, a smile on her face that was anything but innocent.

He chuckled. “I’ll teach you,” he winked, tilting her face so he could kiss her deeply; the way he wanted to for the last week and a half.

And teach her what ‘proper’ meant.

--

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[yutahoes]

Caramel

(Part Fourteen)

gif by @noyuta I can't find the gif I always include in the story so just saved it and uploaded it. I'm sorry.

characters: ex-stripper! company vice-president! Yuta x female! ex-wealthy! secretary! mom! Y/N genre: chaptered, smut, angst, fluff word count: 4.4k words

summary: Y/N has everything in her bitter life, not until she meets a sweet-looking stripper.

warnings: matured theme, ex-stripper au!, third person POV, cursing, mentions of killing but in exclamation only

taglist: @cherrymotodude @tenjyucat @justsomekpopstuff @ilhoonseyeballs @whyme11 @a-bts-world @amazinggraxia

a/n: Supposed to post this last Wednesday but the news broke and I'm just shocked, disappointed, and devastated. Had to edit a whole scene because I didn't want to write his name at all. Also had to remove a sensitive scene that is closely related to the issue. The next chapter will be the last one and I promise there won't be any plot twists.

Haechan was annoyed at Mark’s constant questions about his plan to get the two back together. He needed a window of opportunity to make his plan work. No, scratch that. Haechan doesn’t need a window, he just needs a small seep of light to make his plan work. 

A small crack that happened a week after he first met Kenshin. “Haechan, prepare for a lunch meeting.” 

The younger one coughed, “Hyung, I’m not really feeling well.” He sniffled which earned a confused look from the two older people in the room. “Can I skip the meeting today? Noona could come with you.” 

Yuta seemed to regard the suggestion by lightly glancing at the girl who was already standing up to check on Haechan. “Are you alright?” She asked in worry, walking to his table to check on him. When the younger sneezed, Yuta held Y/N’s waist in instinct to pull her away from the younger guy. Haechan wanted to smile, the skinship looked too natural. The older guy had to apologize quietly, removing his hands from her, but the girl shook her head even thanking him. “Do you want to go home?” 

“And leave the two of you alone?” Yuta gave him a pointed look. “I’ll be fine, noona. I just needed to rest a bit.” He coughed once again. “You should go prepare and assist Hyung in his meeting.” 

With a sigh, Yuta nodded. “We’ll be leaving in ten minutes.” 

Haechan had a smile on his face when his boss entered his office and the older woman went back to her desk to fix her things. They’re finally alone. Now he’ll have to wait and see where this could lead them. He should immediately tell Mark that his plan has now commenced.

Yuta was awkwardly sitting in the backseat of his car while Y/N was seated in the passenger seat, enthusiastically talking to the driver. He didn’t know what Haechan was planning but why would he decline a lunch meeting? Obviously, he’s not sick. That's a free meal and he doesn’t have anything to do but listen to the conversation on the table. What makes him more nervous is the fact that the planned meeting will happen in his favorite restaurant. 

The driver opened the door for him and Y/N came out of the car on her own. Is he even ready to show her inside? A lunch meeting with his female secretary isn’t even a problem - this is part of her job. But having lunch with the person you once loved in a restaurant where the owner surely knows your history together isn’t even normal. 

There was a familiar smile on the person by the reception which was replaced by a wide grin when the girl entered behind Yuta. “Oh my God, you two found each other!” Taeyong exclaimed, walking to where the two guests were then hugging Y/N. “I’m so happy to see you two together.” 

Yuta shook his head. “She’s my secretary.” 

Taeyong had to look at the man in surprise then at the girl who only nodded, “What happened to the chatty one?” Y/N only giggled, reasoning that Haechan was sick and couldn’t come with the vice president today. “And I thought you two were finally together,” he claimed once again, making Yuta hiss. He quickly sat on the spot by the window which had a reserved card above the table, Taeyong graciously pulled the chair for Y/N. “I’ll get the menu for you.” 

“Taeyong works here?” She asked but Yuta supplied that he owned the place. She exclaimed in awe. The interior of the restaurant is so warm, very different from the nightclub they once worked at. It was amazing. He did achieve a lot of nice things in life.   

Yuta was surprised that Taeyong pulled a chair to sit beside Y/N after he gave her the menu. The girl was quick to congratulate him on his restaurant. “When we got a huge money because of the closing of the club, I immediately opened this restaurant.” That was truly amazing, Y/N thought. She knew for a fact that it was her mom who bought the club. It was reflected in the money she took from the company when the investigation was taking place. She’s just glad that the money served a purpose and helped her friend’s life. 

“We also came to your wedding,” Taeyong shared making her stop. That was news to her. “But the guests were already leaving so we thought it was over. Jungwoo might have given us a different time.” Oh, she thought, that actually makes sense. And she thought they never came. 

The girl played with the napkin on the table before answering in a small voice, “I didn’t get married.” Taeyong stared at her in surprise. From the corner of her vision, she saw Yuta look her way as well. “Jaehyun stopped the wedding before it could happen.” 

What the hell? She didn’t get married and Jaehyun was the one who stopped the wedding? Yuta always thought that Jaehyun was perfect. He’s handsome, tall, and rich. Turns out, he might be crazy. How could you just let go of someone like Y/N?

Jaehyun must be stupid. That was the only idea running through Yuta’s mind while the president of Hikari Studios pitched his sale on how their games would help the Suzaki group grow. A conclusion came to him almost immediately, you cannot have everything in life. And he’s somewhat glad that Jaehyun didn’t get the girl. 

But what about their child? If they didn’t get married, then is Y/N the only one who takes care of their son? Is that why she’s working so hard? But surely, the multi-billionaire Jaehyun would have given her money to take care of the child if he could not take care of them. 

Or is it another man’s child? Did she fall in love with another man? 

Damn, that is more painful than the idea of her being married.

Yuta seemed out of it. Y/N doesn’t know why he agreed to the president’s idea when their company wouldn’t benefit much from the collaboration. There’s a much better way to advertise the Suzaki group without losing their profit. An idea Haechan could not understand even if Y/N kept explaining it to him. Of course, they’re just secretaries so they just adhere to their boss’ orders. And if he already agreed to the collaboration then it’s already final. 

Imagine her surprise being called into the vice president’s office because of her idea. She wanted to curse at Haechan but seeing Yuta listening intently at her made her think that he might need this. “You wanted to make a counteroffer?” He asked, staring at the file in front of him then glanced up at her from his eyeglasses. “How many days would you need to present this?” This is pretty easy. If there was one thing that she learned from her stepdad, that would be to make an effective counteroffer. She could make it immediately if she wants to. It’s just a presentation. What takes time would be her boss understanding the idea and presenting it on his own. “Can you make this in two days?” 

She nodded. “I’ll schedule a meeting with President Go of Hikari Studios.” He claimed that confused her. Two days? So she should finish it tomorrow for him to fully grasp the concept. “You’ll present it to him in two days.” 

“What?” Y/N asked in surprise. He wanted her to present it personally to the president? It’s his job, right? “I’m just a secretary. I can’t do this.” 

The corner of his lips turned up. “You’ve done this before, right?” This is just part of her work from before. She probably talked to a hundred company presidents and executives from way before. This is really easy. But Yuta had to consider that she didn’t hold any high-ranking position in his company. She is a secretary. “This is a well-thought-out presentation, Y/N. And if there’s someone I trust in making these decisions for the company, that would be you.” 

Wait. That is a heavy responsibility for just a measly secretary. “What if I mess this up?” 

Yuta stood up, removed his glasses then placed both his hands on the table that he was leaning close to her. “And what if it works out?” She visibly gulped. At the weight of his words or the close proximity, she wasn’t sure. “I trust you more than I trust myself in these company matters, Y/N. I know you’ll do great.” 

“How are you so sure about that?” The sentence came out before she could think about it. She isn’t doubting the vice president with his decisions, that’s the first thing you shouldn’t do as a secretary. But why her? Surely, there’s someone better than her. Haechan is better than her. Yuta is better than her. 

Yuta smiled. “Because it’s you, Y/N.” 

“Hyung,” Haechan came in the door that startled Yuta, making him sit down then stared at the file before him as if caught doing something illegal. “Am I disturbing something?” Y/N had to shake her head, excusing herself to leave. 

The first secretary placed another folder on the table before Yuta called both their attention. “Haechan, you have to take care of the Open House on your own. Y/N had some tasks she had to do.” The younger nodded. “Then grab an early lunch, you two.” 

“How about you, hyung?”

“President Suzaki invited me for lunch.” Both the secretaries just nodded. 

—-

“To be honest, noona, Open House is just a grand Suzaki clan gathering,” Haechan claimed while twirling his pasta. Y/N was apologetic because it seemed like Haechan would have more work because of this so-called Open House. Ever since Yuta had muttered the term and Haechan prepared the file for the event, Y/N had been curious. This is the first time she encountered just a thing. And if the whole company is preparing for this event, it must be a big deal. “It’s when all the president’s children come to the company.” 

“Children?” 

Haechan nodded, “Yuta hyung is the oldest then there’s like twenty other kids from different mothers.” Y/N gasped in disbelief. That is a huge exaggeration. “And every year, the number gets bigger.” 

So the rumors that Jaehyun said were true. The Suzaki president really is a womanizer but isn’t that too much? “The office will look like a huge children’s party, you should bring Kenshin.” The girl glared at Haechan. “It’s a large office and a lot of kids, I’m sure he wouldn’t notice your son.” 

“Besides, knowing about hyung would stop Kenshin from asking questions about his dad.” Y/N sighed.

The girl had been to countless meetings before. She had presented a million times before, it’s an everyday scenario when she was still the Chief Marketing Officer. An impossible feat now that she’s a secretary. A sigh of relief was all she could give when Haechan entered the conference room, cheering her on. To be fair, he came to the company before her and he should be given this opportunity first. She thought he would dislike her for that chance. But Haechan was thankful because he claimed he wouldn’t have the confidence to do any of these. Which is something that is hard to believe. 

Even before the scheduled time of meeting with the president of another company, Y/N had been asking the vice president if she really could do it. This would be huge if this pulls through. Working with Hikari Studios would boost the Suzaki company’s stocks and might evidently put them on the global market. Definitely, a huge responsibility lies on her shoulders now. 

With a heavy breath, she stared at both the President of Suzaki company and Hikari Studios who looked stern then at the vice president who was staring at her with a slight smile on his face. He believes in her. He knew she’d do great. 

She couldn’t blow this up. She needed to do her best. She cannot disappoint Yuta.  

Y/N is very charming. This was the first time Yuta had watched her in her craft and he couldn’t help but be amazed at her charm. Now he knows how she could attract those stakeholders to invest in the Kims. How every chairman wants Y/N in their company, even their family. His father, who was seated opposite him at the long table, was all smiles as he stared at the girl presenting the offer they had for the other company. What is with this fondness? She isn’t married and being a single mom hasn’t stopped his dad from adding another child to his growing list of children. She should protect her from him. 

Surely his dad might have known something. It’s impossible that he had hired her without any background checks, he should have known that she was the girl he had cried about for years. He probably knows something, right? But is his own father that evil to steal away the girl he badly yearned for all these years? Yuta isn’t too close to him to know exactly that. Just to be sure, he had to save her from him. But how? Should he marry her? 

Yuta watched as the girl made her last statement then smiled as she thanked the people who listened to her. She is very charming, very pretty. How can someone not fall in love with her? He’d kill to have her in his life, even his arms. Marrying her wasn’t a bad thought.  

It was a successful presentation, an agreement between two companies that would benefit them both. The president was so proud of Y/N that he was supposed to hug her but Yuta walked between the two. “She’s my employee, I’ll compensate for her hard work.” He claimed making Haechan laugh. 

Y/N was more nervous standing in front of Yuta in his office. She knew she did a great job, both presidents complimented her for the amazing presentation. So why is she suddenly called in her boss’ office? Yuta was signing the papers to be submitted to the other company as she watched, fingers drumming along her thigh in nervousness. “Are you going home early?” Yuta asked in a soft voice. Y/N had nothing left to do in the office. She just wanted to go home and have dinner with her son. But why would he ask that? “There’s a newly opened Michelin-starred seafood restaurant nearby. You like seafood right?” He asked in one breath, not even looking at her. 

“I don’t eat seafood.” Yuta stopped signing the paper, obviously startled. What? She loves seafood. “Can I just leave early tonight, sir? I’ll come in early tomorrow for the Open House.” Can’t they just have a decent dinner together? Does she hate him that much? 

Yuta nodded, handing her the folder that had the signed forms for the collaboration. “The party will begin at eight am tomorrow,” he reminded. “You should also bring your son along.” Y/N’s eyes were wide. Wait, how did he know that she has a son? “Haechan told me about him.” Y/N only nodded. 

—-- 

“Should I kill Haechan?” The girl asked making Mark giggle. Y/N even stabbed the grilled squid with a fork. “I shouldn’t have introduced Kenshin to him,” She claimed then bit the squid. “It’s not too late to tell Ken that he cannot come to the office tomorrow, right?”  

“After you asked him to sleep early?” Mark asked while shaking his head. The only reason she asked him to sleep early was because she wanted to eat seafood all of a sudden. While heading home, she tried to search for the new seafood restaurant her boss mentioned and craved the lobster from the homepage. Why is her son allergic to seafood when she loves it so much? “He’s already excited for the bouncy house.” 

Before Yuta mentioned her son, Haechan had made it a point to invite both Mark and Ken to the Open House. Y/N didn’t even know that her son could get enticed by a simple bouncy house. “Maybe Haechan doesn’t want any harm. It’s not bad though, Kenshin knowing about his dad would lessen his questions.” And she doesn’t know that Haechan and Mark are close. They almost have the same idea about this. 

She squinted her eyes at him, “Are you planning this with Haechan?” 

The younger guy giggled, “You know my money is on you and Jaehyun hyung ending up together, right?” The girl pouted. Jaehyun. Maybe Jahyun could help. Pretend that he’s Kenshin’s dad perhaps? But that would be very impossible. It only takes one look to know who Kenshin’s dad is and obviously, it isn’t Jung Jaehyun. “Noona, it’s a huge company building with a lot of kids. I’m sure your boss wouldn’t notice Ken.” 

Y/N sighed. There’s nothing she could do now. But nothing could go wrong, right? 

Yuta hated this event the most. All these kids running around the office building just because his father cannot calm his testosterone. The mothers of his siblings were either flirting with him or telling him to get married which annoyed the hell out of him. He blew the smoke of the cigarette, rolling his eyes at the thought. Marriage? That was a funny thing to say. How could he even get married when the girl he wants is in the building with her child? A son? Does he look like her? Maybe Jaehyun? Or maybe that other man who got her pregnant. 

With a final swig of the cigarette, Yuta smiled. If he wanted to see what her son looked like, he shouldn’t be hiding here.  

“Mommy said cigarettes are bad.” A young kid claimed that startled Yuta. The boy was wearing a Pororo T-shirt while pushing his eyeglasses up. A new face, this is the first time Yuta saw this kid. But there’s no doubt that this kid is one of his father’s sons. Those doe-like boba eyes. “You are so tall, uncle.” Uncle? “Can you carry me on your back?” Yuta stared at him, eyebrow raised. Who is his mom? Is it someone he knew? How old is he? Four? Five? “I just wanted to see if the air is different up there.” The guy had to laugh at that. 

Well, there is surely one way to know if he truly is a Suzaki kid. “Why don’t you ask your dad to do that?” 

The young boy pouted making Yuta smile. He’s cute. “I don’t have a dad.” Yes, he’s definitely a Suzaki kid. 

Compared to his other siblings, this kid is very talkative. All his siblings would either be too scared or embarrassed to talk to him. What makes him so endearing is how excited he got when he sat on Yuta’s shoulder. His giggles are so infectious that Yuta guessed he might have grown up in a loving environment.   

He was walking to the hallways of his office when he bumped into Haechan next to another guy who was wearing glasses. “Mark hyung,” the kid called. “Haechannie.” 

Wait, he knows Haechan? Both guys were looking at him in surprise. “Do you know him, Haechan?” Yuta asked. “Is he your brother?” 

The guy shook his head before another figure turned the corner. Y/N was holding a Pororo bag, about to talk to Haechan when she stopped in her tracks. “Mommy!” the kid called. “Look, I’m super tall now. The air here is very different.” 

“Mommy?” Yuta asked. His ears aren’t tricking him, right? But Y/N walked to where he was, asking the young boy to come down. She was so close to him as she carried the young boy but he remained frozen in his place. “Mommy?” Yuta repeated.    

The girl held the young boy’s hand. “This is my son, Kenshin.” She introduced then faced the younger boy, “That is my boss. Say hi to him, Ken.” 

The young boy was mirroring the same expression as Yuta, confused. “You said your boss is mean and scary.” Haechan snickered, taking Ken’s free hand and the Pororo bag. “Let’s go to the bouncy house.” 

Before Y/N could say something, Mark and Haechan were walking away holding both Kenshin’s hands. How could they meet like that? This is a huge office building with lots of kids. What are the odds that Yuta was carrying Kenshin on his shoulders? He probably knows, right? “That was your son?” She had to glance at Yuta in surprise. Wait, he doesn’t know? 

Yuta brushed his hair up. This is mind-boggling. That kid, with the infectious giggle, is his son. But he clearly has his father’s eyes. Is Y/N one of his father’s countless women? But how? It can’t be possible. But then again, those eyes. Traits that his siblings have, traits that they all got from his father. A sure sign that someone is a Suzaki. 

Then it hit. He also has the same eyes. He’s the oldest Suzaki child after all. And judging from his age. A gasp escaped Yuta’s lips. “He’s my son, isn’t he?” Y/N didn’t need to confirm his thoughts. Everything is clicking into place. “Fuck, Y/N, why didn’t you tell me?” His voice became louder and she visibly flinched. Some of the workers and guests walking in the hallway were looking at them. 

Yuta had no choice but to hold her hand and drag her to his office, closing the door behind him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I thought you knew,” she reasoned out, making him puzzled. “You said Haechan told you.” 

The guy had to clench his fist in anger. “Haechan knows?” She nodded, “Lee Haechan, that kid. I’m going to kill that brat.” He breathed heavily before looking at her once again. “He only said you have a son, I didn’t know he was mine.” Even those words seemed very weird to say out loud for Yuta. “Why didn’t you just tell me the first time? You could have just walked to my office and told me, ‘Yuta, I have your son.’.” 

“And would you even believe me?” 

“God damn, Y/N!” he shouted and she stepped back in fright. “Even if you tell me right now that you have three eyes, I would blindly believe you.” He lightly punched his table. “You just have no idea how crazy I am for you, huh?” Yuta breathed hard. He cannot be mad right now. He needed answers. “Since when have you found out that you were pregnant?” 

The girl was fiddling her thumbs in nervousness. “I confirmed it a day before the wedding with Jaehyun.” 

“Is that why he didn’t marry you?” 

She shrugged. “I didn’t tell anyone.” Her voice was so soft that Yuta had to focus just to hear her words. “Jaehyun met him in Canada when he was already three.”

“And you were alone the whole time?” 

“The couple who took me in when I was in Canada helped me.” She shared, head bent down. “They were supposed to adopt Kenshin when I gave birth to him.” What? At this point, Yuta wanted to get mad. She’s just going to give her child to other people? Their child? “I don’t want to be a mom. I’m scared to be a mom. I don’t want to be like her.” Y/N’s knees gave out and she plopped to the ground. “But he smiled at me and when I hushed him, I was reminded of you.” Yuta glanced at her and that’s when he noticed the tears falling from her eyes. “I cannot give him up. Kenshin only has me.”

Yuta kneeled down so that they were at eye level with each other. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

“I tried looking for you. I even thought she did something bad to you.” Her voice was hushed in between choking sobs. “I’m so glad to see you again. Alive and well. Better than me, in fact.”

The guy sat cross-legged in front of her, wiping the tears on her cheek. “Then why didn’t you tell me anything?” 

“I don’t want you to think I’m after your money, Yuta.”

He smiled. Yuta held her hand, rubbing his thumb along the back of her palm. This is all just a misunderstanding. He could have saved some tears. She could be in his arms right now. “We should have talked like this before.” 

“You hated me.” 

“Because I thought you married Jaehyun,” She was about to revolt when he continued, “I only found out about it when we saw Taeyong.” Once again, he smiled. “I also found out that you have a son and I was mad that you got to move on with your life when I was in shambles because of you.” Yuta breathed hard, laughing to himself at how absurd everything was. God damn, all this time it’s just a miscommunication. “The only reason I opened this company was to show Jaehyun that I can be better than him. Then maybe, just maybe, I can take you back.”     

His hand brushed against hers, threading their fingers together. “What should we do now?” She asked innocently, looking at their hands. 

The guy had to pull her closer, his free hand holding her chin to make her look at him. “If you’ll let me, I want to make up for the lost time with Kenshin.” His voice had a soft, hushed tone. “I’m also scared to be a father but you have been an amazing mom so I don’t want to disappoint you. I’ll try my best to be worthy of Kenshin.” 

Y/N’s tears welled in her eyes. When she was just imagining the scenario of Yuta finding out about his son, this wasn’t what she had in mind. She thought he'd get mad. She hid these from him for years. But here he is, whispering apologies for coming too late. “So can you please introduce me to Kenshin as his dad and not your scary, mean boss?” The girl had to laugh, nodding. 

Yuta had to help her stand up, hands still interlocked with each other. “Y/N,” he called which made her look at his face. He smiled warmly, she’s really here with him. “Can I hug you?” The girl nodded before he removed his hold on her, wrapping her in his arms. She’s finally in his arms. “I missed you.” He then pulled her closer, not wanting to let her go. “God, I missed you so much.” 

The tears fell from Y/N’s eyes. Yuta’s warmth that she had been yearning all along. His sweet scent that she had missed all this time. “I miss you too, Yuta.”  

[ambrosalovesyou]

Just a thought (I am not confident enough w my writing to write this out like as a whole fanfic so…)

- imagine you are a siren, and you work under Azul as a sort of trap for the boys of NRC so that Azul can get more contracts.

- as a siren, you’re naturally alluring, and you amped it up considerably ever since you signed a contract w Azul. You get paid by the amount of people who pay him / sign a contract with him.

- let’s say the way this works is generally simple: you find a man, your target, and flirt with him. Your melodic voice lured him in, and your touches were so fleeting to him. You tell him you love a man who is open about his feelings, so he tells you about his sorrows. You tell him that Azul can fix these problems. (Or, if you’re really cold, you tell him that you can’t be with him because he isn’t pretty enough, causing him to go to Azul to fix that).

- No matter the method, you are very good at luring them in. All for the expense of your love and affections, or that they genuinely believe that Azul can help them because why would someone as beautiful and sweet as you lie to him?

- When the day is done, you make a trip to Azul’s office and collect your payment. You’re so valuable that weekly or monthly paychecks aren’t enough - you’re an expensive siren, and you need the best to keep up your appearance!

- Of course, Azul obliges. Ever since you showed up, business has been booming! You kiss him on the cheek everytime, you were a sort of dog on a leash for him. (And honestly you didn’t really mind, the idea of you with a chain around your neck with Azul holding the other end and smirking down at you is pleasant imagery. You’re a siren! You’re born to be promiscuous!)

- You were easy to maintain compared to the twins, you found it fun to trick people, to see men grovel and weep for you, about their issues, and for them to inevitably not fulfil their contracts and have to work for Azul for however long.

- However, Azul was… changing. He’s been giving you some excuses for you to see him whenever possible, he believed that maybe if you saw him more in his office, you’d leave him with a new kiss mark each time. But no - you’d only ever do it if you’re collecting your paycheck.

- sometimes he would ramble about his business and you’d go “aw, wow, I’m happy for you! Good job, darling~” and his stomach would do flips but he would reprimand you with a blushing face.

- Jade and Floyd are catching on, you can hear them chuckling or Floyd going “hey hey, Azul, you got a thing for the siren now~?” Or “gross… PDA, keep that to yourself!”

- and what doesnt help at all is the fact you have been going online putting yourself on the line. The boys you send in always go “I want (Y/N) to be mine! You can’t keep them here against their will!”

- have you been telling people that you’re kept here against your will? Azul suspects it’s just to make them scared and have a sense of urgency to protect you or to save you like a ‘woe is me damsel/dude in distress’ sort of thing, but what if it’s true?? Do you hate him?

- Contracts have become even more stressful than usual now too. Of course with you on the line, Floyd and Jade have to make sure that the contract fails each time, so that you don’t get taken from him.

- and then you laugh when he tells you off and just blow him a kiss? Like! The nerve! Seriously, listen to him, will you?

- one day, when you came to pick up your check after a week of this ‘I’ll save (Y/N)’ nonsense, you got the check from his desk and walked out WITHOUT giving him a kiss on the cheek.

- “aren’t you forgetting something?” He asked, and you turned around with a smirk. “Oh, did I?” He felt his skin turn red with embarrassment, like a tomato. He always thought he had you on a leash, but it turns out it was the other way around. He’d been waiting all day, like a dog waiting for its owner, for its treat - your affection, your kisses, and your kiss marks which he kept on until the next morning where he HAD to take them off for school.

- you gave him two kiss marks to make up for the fact that you’ve been such a pain the last week, and you know it because he’s been looking more stressed out and crazier than usual.

- “please stop telling people you’ll be with them if it weren’t for me..” “why?” “Because, well, you’re a valuable asset and you made a contract with me, and you have to fulfill it. Besides, you don’t actually hate me that much.. yes? Right?” He asked, clearly seeking for reassurance.

- You shook your head and put a hand on his cheek, and gave him a kiss. He literally nearly jolted like he got shocked from Jade or something when you did. You pulled back and giggled while walking out of the room.

- great seven, why did he have to feel this way about *you*? A siren? This is surely more trouble than it’s worth, and what would pining after you do for Monstro Lounge?

- … well, for once, he might care about something more than the lounge. And it was you; his very own employed siren.

So trash ik but I can’t use it for an oc so someone else pls make this better for me if u can write PLEASE PLSPLSPLSPLSPLSPSLSLL

[el-moscorrofio-y-el-mercachifle]

Besides my obvious annoyance with the new season because of the horrible character understanding from the writers and their ADMITTED goal to change Gaitán's ending, there are other aggravating issues with it:

1. The pacing:

This new novela knows it's in a rush, but we can tell, too. The first episode seems to attack the viewer with so many different new facts and characters and issues. It straight up starts with: Roberto's funeral, Armando and Betty separated and having been so for years now, Armando's presidency in the gutter again, lots of economic issues within the company again, Mila gone for years and her distance with Betty, a new guy that Marcela is suspiciously protective of and planning together to get revenge, Daniel being dead for going to jail from illegal business practices, etc. And all of this in the span of 1 episode. It just hits you with so much that it doesn't even give you the chance to get to know the characters. We haven't seen most of them in over twenty years, and some of them never, so we basically don't know them anymore! It's going so direclty and straight to the point that it feels more like a badly written fanfiction.

2. Lack of builup for tension

Jesus, there is very, very little tension here for the big things that matter. [SPOILER] In one episode we find out that Ecomoda is in bad shape, and just a few ones later, Armando is turning himself in. We don't see him slowly driving himself insane with his moral dilemma, we don't see him desperately trying everything to fix it, we don't even see him turning himself in! Just one episode ends with him saying he was turning himself in, and the next one starts with Armando's mugshot. That's it. No tension at all

3. Bad editing

One of the things that I loved about the old novela were their transitions. The first episodes were amazing with this: while Betty was looking at the magazine of the collection launch and giving her opinions and commentary, we were seeing the pictures of it and then we're taken to the moment the picture was taken. While Gutierrez, Armando and Roberto are talking about Betty and why Gutierrez discarded her, Roberto asks "why would a candidate so well prepared and qualified only want to be a secretary?" And then we see Betty going "because I'm tired of looking for a job!"

Those kind of transitions were incredible, I loved them so much. Now in this new series it just cuts abruptly to something totally different.

4. Inappropriate setting

They really, really tried to make everything seem so modern, and in their effort, they ended up making it so plastic and fake. The office doesn't look like an office at all, but rather a gallery or the lobby of an exotic hotel. The desks almost seem out of place. Sure, it's a fashion business, but it's just so fake looking. Most offices, even modern ones, still look like offices. This one just doesn't feel like it, and that really takes me out of the story.

Finally, and just as a little pet peeve that, objectively, idek if it should count but I'll include nonetheless because I'll forget to make a separete post about it: the robot and the hacking. It's just so cringy and cheap. Are robots like that even in the market fr? AI robots that follow you around and are in the shape of a sewing mannequin? And the whole hacking thing... ugh. As I said it's a personal pet peeve but I always find it cringy when they make these super high-tech knowing characters that can hack on everything and we see on the screen the codes and all of that. I found both of these elements so tacky and unnecessary lmao why not just hide cameras?? Nooo, let's make Daniel wannabe a finance and hacking genius lmao ((this part isn't part of the list I just wanted to vent because my hubby and I died of cringe watching one episode last night where Mila's AI Moving Robot Sewing Mannequin told her someone was hacking into the cameras and Ignacio is cyber-fighting to hide and we see a split screen of him and another of what he's seeing through the cameras and eventually he just closes the lid lmao)) ((anyway little rant over sorry))

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Ooooh okay multi-may request inspired by my new job bc i’m proud of myself but my dearest dearest bex can i PLEASE req some of our poly!ghostface boys getting absolutely rock fucking hard about their parter coming home smelling like vanilla and cookies and bringing them a selection of all their favorite flavors, thinking of their boys even when they’ve been working hard all night because the whole shift is fueled by the knowledge of coming home to billy and stu 🥺 and also the knowledge that the little gesture of bringing them treats to start their day with is basically a one way ticket to getting overstimulated to oblivion by the two of them right there in their apartment kitchen. also i have NOT forgotten your extra poly ghostface request i’m just slow you know me by know akshskhs i promise to make it worth the wait when i’ve adjusted to my new schedule okay i love u

K! You lovely, amazing, sweetheart! So glad you submitted a request for Multi-May! Loved getting the chance to do some classic poly!Ghostface goodness. I hope it is up to your standard, it ain’t long, but it is domestic and dirty too! Seriously, hoping it hits for you, let’s fucking goooo!

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 1.3K. Billy Loomis And Stu Macher X GN! Reader. They/Them Pronouns. No Parts Specified. Poly!Ghostface. Warnings: Established Relationship. Post Scream One. College Aged And Sharing An Apartment. Domestic Fluff. Sweet Stuff. Groping. Biting. Marking. Hickies. Oral Sex. Penetrative Sex. Fingering. Overstimulation. Begging. Double Penetration. Cream Pie. 

—

Sweet On You.

—

Waking up without you could be so difficult, finding the space they would prefer you to be in bed, sadly, empty morning after morning is tough, but hey? What can they do? You need to work. They were thankful however that most mornings they got to catch you before their own days truly started, it was something to look forward to honestly, spending time with you before they had to deal with whatever bullshit was ahead. Thankfully this morning they are greeted to the sound of the front door unlocking and you coming home to your shared apartment with a fond call of, “Hello?”

“Hey, we’re in the kitchen.” Called back Billy. Your shoes abandoned, bag slung over your shoulder and box in your hands you come into the kitchen to see your boyfriends, not dressed to leave the house yet, still clad in pyjamas. “There you are, hey boys.” 

You shrug the bag off, leave it on a nearby chair, set down the box and you make the rounds. Billy was seated at the table, you leaned down and kissed him with a quiet, “Good morning.” 

You pulled back, a smile spread across his face, he expressed the same sentiment before coming over to the other man, standing at the counter still fixing his coffee, you lean up and give Stu a similar moment of affection. “Mornin’.” Stu began,“How was work?”

“Fine, mundane, thoroughly usual.” You tell him easily before asking, “And your night? You two sleep well?”

“Was fine, but more importantly, what smells so incredible?” Stu asks and you smile, walking back to the box you previously ditched on the table, you flipped it open, and turned it to show it off. “Baked these at work last night, couldn’t stop thinking about you both and thought it would be nice.”

The box in your hands is practically bursting with an assortment of your boyfriends favorite cookies from your work.

“How sweet are you? I’ll bring one along for my lunch today.” Billy said but Stu snorted, “Fuck lunch, I’m having one now.” 

“A cookie for breakfast?” Billy questioned and Stu said, “What? What’s the issue with that?”

Billy's nose scrunches up, a small shake of his head as he asks, “I dunno man, the fact we’re adults?” 

Stu laughed as he selected out the cookie he wanted from the box, a roll of his eyes as he said, “That is just why I can do it dude, we’re adults, that means if we want we can eat cookies for breakfast and who’s gonna stop us?” 

“The man is right.” You state with a nod, bringing the box over to Billy, “C’mon Loomis, indulge, have the damn cookie, I worked really hard on em. It isn’t that much different from a donut or a pastry anyway, right?”

“Twist my arm.” Billy said affectionately as he plucked out his own confectionery of choice. Stu let out a moan behind you, a look over your shoulder to see him having taken his first bite, a hand over his mouth, “Fuck, that is so good.” 

And a similar reaction from the brunette after taking a bite himself, “Is it possible to taste the love baked into something?” 

“Didn’t think it could be true but they are convincing me with every treat they bring home.” Stu sighs, he set the cookie down and he came over, wrapping you up in a hug, he leaned down slightly, to make this happen, his back to your chest. You bask in the contact, leaning back into him and he inhales, “Wait a fucking second.”

“What?” You asked and he said, hand squeezing your waist, “That delicious smell isn’t the cookies, it’s you.” 

Billy got up from his spot at the table, “Is it?” He comes forward, hands cradle your face and he tilts your head down, smelling your hair. Stu asked with a far too cocky grin, “Well?”

“Like vanilla.” Billy agreed and Stu continued, his chin resting on your shoulder, “But more than that, right? Depth to it.”

“Yeah, you smell like you but sweeter.” He tilts your head back up, meeting your gaze before he leans in and kisses you, Stu asks, “S’ good right?”

“So good-” He hums in between kisses that you were hurriedly returning, fuck, you missed them, the sudden make out bringing the reminder of that to the forefront of your mind. With a push of Stu’s hips you feel how hard he is, a surprised moan into the kiss wondering when the fuck that happened. “Can you get over how good they are? Already so busy and have so much to do at work and they are still thinking about us.”

Billy broke the contact, praising you and answering Stu as he said, “We stuck fucking gold man.” 

“How long until we gotta leave for class?” Stu asked and with a glance to the clock Billy replied with a grin, “A half hour.”

“Oh that is more than enough time.” 

“More than enough time for what?” You asked and Stu was already tugging on your shirt, “To show our appreciation, of course.”  

Your boyfriends were exceptionally good at showing their appreciation for you regularly, but any and all effort expended in that way was always fantastic, especially when it was done like this. Right now it was shown via Stu sucking hickies into your skin with his hands wandering as Billy prepped you. In short order you were in Billy’s lap, he was back in a chair at the kitchen table, your legs spread wide, his hands under your knees as he fucked up into you, Stu on his knees between your legs and using his tongue to great affect. 

“You think-” Billy pants with another move of his hips, “-ugh, think they get it yet?” 

Stu pulled off your over sensitive flesh with a wet pop, his chin is soaked with mess, both from you and his own spit, “I dunno. Let’s ask. Hey baby?”

You are still moaning incoherently, they share a laugh and Billy stops and the lack of pleasure makes you whine, it sends you squirming. He leans in, nose runs up your throat, a lazy kiss is laid down as he cockwarms you before he says, “Patience honey, we got a question for you.” 

A questioning hum comes from you and he asks, “Do you get how much we appreciate you yet?”

You open your mouth to respond but Stu nips at your inner thigh and you nearly yelp, legs threaten to close but Billy is still holding you wide open, a groan spills out of Billy from your hole clenching around his cock. A smack to your inner thigh has your attention snap to Stu, “Answer the question.”

A bite of your bottom lip and you shake your head, you felt selfish, you wanted more, wanted all they had to give before they had to head out for the day and leave you alone for hours, so you lied and said,  “I don’t think I get it yet.” 

“Well we gotta fix that. You gotta know just how much we love you.” Stu sighed, two fingers slipped into his mouth, he sucked and your brows furrowed in confusion before those same and now slick fingers are between your legs. He effectively answers your question before you can ask it when he begins to work them in alongside Billy’s dick. “You think they can handle us both?” 

“Christ man, you tyrna break em first thing in the morning? They’ve been at work all night, maybe we should take it easy-”  Billy’s voice sounded strained, breathy, he wasn't able to stay still, slow rocks of his hips. He was thrusting gently and shallowly, desperate for more stimulation the same way you were, his sentence breaks off with a groan at the feeling of Stu's fingers rocking in and out of your hole, pressed tightly up against his shaft.

“They are begging for it, you know they want it.” Stu is pulling his hand away, fingers leave you and he is opening his pants, “Don’t you?”

A frantic nod as you beg, pathetic and needy, “Ye-yeah I want it, please-”

“You sure?” Billy asked quietly, both his and your eyes are locked on Stu, well lubed and starting to line up just right, “Yeah, fuck, need you bo-both-”

"God, fucking love you so much." Billy whispered as he didn't stop or slow, in fact starting to pick up the pace once again, steady sound of skin on skin as his cock slides in and out.

“Who are we to deny you?” Stu asks, hands locked on your hips as he pushes forward, starting to slowly work his way in, you suck in a harsh inhale and Billy agrees breathlessly, “When you beg so pretty like that too.”

By the time it was over, they were late for class and rushing out the door, half eaten cookies in hand and you were tucked into bed, overstimulated, unable to speak, leaking an obscene amount of cum and on the verge of passing out. You were feeling satisfied and yes, thoroughly loved and appreciated. You should bake for them and come home smelling like work more often. 

[gallusrostromegalus]

I love everything you are doing with Orihime, if it's not too much troble, I wanted to hear more of what she does when she get kidnapped. Also did Rukia try anything when she got sentenced to death for bulshit crimes? It's been forever since I read the manga, so I don't remember what rukia was feeling exactly during this time, if she accepted the whole thing bc she has spent way too much time in the soul society that she just didn't see it how much bulshit it was or something else, or if it was just your standard damsel in distress thing

Rukia behaves in the calm, rational but firm way you'd expect out of a seated officer, especially a lieutenant that earned her position through hard work and demonstration after demonstration that she could be trusted with such a position.

...Byakuya, on the other hand, was appointed to his position by birthright as the latest scion of a long but narrow line of people who retained their power by violence as social standing. So when Byakuya experiences the psychotic crisis of "the people you respect the most want the person you love the most dead", the coinflip of his emotions lands on tails in AEIWAM.

*****

"...To Death?" She asked, staring at Renji.

"Yeah." He winced, shifting uncomfortably.

"...For a Misdemeanor Infraction that, per code 3.15.27846 sub-section 42-4, carries a MAXIMUM penalty of a month's suspension without pay while a performance review is conducted, and, pending the review, possible termination of my job, not my whole person?" She continued.

"...Um. Yeah, yeah that's the official rules per the Shingami Legal Manual." Said Renji. "It's real fuc- it's very peculiar and I'm honestly not sure what to make of it. Also, when did you learn to quote the manual like-"

"I'm a Goddamn Lieutenant, I know the law, and this stinks on ice." She glared. "I know I'm not allowed to question the orders or ask who issued them, but did you double-check that this is, in fact, what they meant to send, and didn't give you the memo for someone else or send out the wrong butterfly?"

"Um." Renji winced, pointedly studying the wall to his left. "Kuchiki-Taicho went to do that as soon as he saw the order."

Rukia blanched. "Renji. When did he leave?"

"He left for the central 46's liaison office directly from the 6th division's office when we got the order about an hour ago. I wanted to go with him, but he insisted that he could handle it and that you should get the news from me rather than a stranger."

"Abarai Renji." She spoke, voice low and dangerous. "Do you remember what happened the first day I came home from the 13th division boot camp with that shiner?'

"Yeah, Kuchiki-taicho broke into Ukitake-taicho's house with Senbonsakura at 2AM because he thought someone had hit yo-" Renji laughed then stopped. "-Oh."

"You let my brother, the absolute last person you can expect to behave in a rational and restrained manner to any perceived threats to my person, go off to visit someone who just issued an order for my extermination? UNSUPERVISED?" She growled.

Renji stood, paralyzed in wide-eyed horror. "I. uh. I gotta go prevent some treason." he sputtered, before bolting from the room.

***** "I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked uuuuuup-" Gin hissed under his breath as he ran through the maze of buildings that made up the central government's compound. "Sure Gin! Keep feeding him spiritual power Gin! It'll fix everything Gin! No way he's going to cause a massive inter-dimensional destabilization event Gin!"

He turned the corner to the central 46's liaison office, just to the side of the sealed gate, and sprinted for the small office at the base of the tower all Hell butterflies issued from, where the Gate's security guard and the Liaison worked.

"Hey guys sorry to burst in here but it's kind of an Emergen... cy." Gin shouted and then sputtered as something warm splashed underfoot. He looked down to find that the previously-beige carpet of the Liaison's office was now a deep and unpleasantly wet crimson. Behind him, there was a faint creak as the unsealed and unguarded gate swayed lightly in the breeze.

"Oh." Gin realized, wilting. "I'm in deep shit."

[antisocialmia]

Dr. W. Afton headcanons

sfw and nsfw mentioned -> mdni

gen!neutral reader, just silly thoughts and mostly sweet (I hope) probably not readproof so sorry for any writing mistakes.

Dr. W. Afton from the game 'Thats Not My Neighbour'

Disclaimer!! I dont own the character or anything. Just trying to support the creators.

Art credits: @_.calitryx on TikTok

Appearance

probably about 5'11 to 6'0 tall

takes really good care of his facial hair (the maximum it gets are two days before he shaves again)

see him something between slim and yet muscular, sleeper build

slim waist and his shoulders on the broader side

Cake. Thats it.

his hands are rather on the rough side but he tries to take care of them

long fingers and takes the cleaning of his hands very seriously??

he has defined features but not like too sharp

Random

he has knee issues

addicted to coffee, also his very first thought after waking up

has a habit of sleeping in when he has a day off

or so he says ─ the first time you slept over he was awake at 7.

takes a lot of time for his hair in the bathroom

was insecure about his nose in his teens but learned to accept it nonetheless

he's left-handed

randomly mutturs out some facts throughout the day

he needs to push up his glasses pretty often because he once broke them by sitting down on them but refused to get them fixed

"its only a little bent." Yeah, a whole 90 degrees

he has a picture of you in his wallet

probably all his colleges know about you at this point

he's such a yapper once talking about a topic he enjoys maybe just a little too much ─ but you let him because who can say no to someone like him?

notices the tiniest changes of literally anything

going from things laying somewhere else in his apartment to the act of a person he's talking to

also the type of guy who watches you look at something a little too long and buys it for you as a present later

he remembers everything, literally has the brain of an elephant. 'I remember you saying you wish you had that so I got it for you.'

Style

you might actually mistake him for a phyics teacher (that damn checker pattern)

closet is mostly filled with linen shirts and some suit pants

'thats all he ever needed' ─ his words

color variates, he has almost every color but those bright ones.

of course he has some home clothes (you love to steal)

comfortable sweats and cozy sweaters

great taste when it comes for comfortable clothing ─ always manages to get the most fluffy ones too.

for jewlery, he only wears his watch around his left wrist

Activities

he probably has a gym membership but never actually goes

if you go tho, he might join you

in his freetime he loves to jog

loves to explore new things, like new recipes to new games (If mobile or not)

playfights usually end up with him laying down on you with his full weight

always has a stupid grin on his face when he does that

Apartment

he's completely clean, not freaky clean tho

there's not a single dust grain

but hes not too pressed about it ─ he simply enjoys tidying his apartment

gives him some sort of comfort

you can also find sometimes his clothes over the couch or laying on the ground, which is rare but it happens

his job doesnt require too much of his time so he has plenty of time at home

Relationships

like said before, he had some insecurities

confidence wasnt his thing in his teens (He was probably one of those 'uhm actually' kids but unintentionally.)

changed in his 20's ─ went out regulary but never found anything that could have gone further

which changed when you came around

so, he indeed was experienced but you taught him things aswell

love language is physical touch and acts of service (also words of affirmation)

loves random hugs and gives them too

huge on pda and shows it too

he really loves to just embrace you and cuddle with you on the couch or in bed while watching a movie or show

sleeping with him is hell

he's tussing and turning all night long, but only If you arent in his grasp

once youre trapped in his arms there's no way out and he wont move a single inch

small snores, but only once in a while ─ barely noticable too.

has all sorts of nicknames for you 'baby' , 'love' , 'honey' , 'sugar' , 'cupcake' you name it.

NSFW -> mdni

a complete switch

service dom

lives to do what you tell him to

to the location -> probably everywhere in the apartment when youre up to it

high-sex drive and probably lasts atleast 2 rounds

gets super touchy when he's worked up and just hints what he wants instead of saying it directly

he's shy! Just catch up to what he's implying.

knows the difference between harder and faster

also, not exactly into hard bdsm but isnt shy to explore with you either

praising to the top with him

you wont catch him letting out one word that would degrade

loves physical touch so this is his time to shine

body worshiping

kisses every inch of skin his lips can reach and then again

always tells you how good youre doing and how proud he is of you for taking him that well.

he's not.. exactly small either

a true mystery how he keeps it hidden beneath those forbidden pants

he loves to mark you, not for claiming and only for his eyes to see (maybe on the nape of your neck but not further)

basically, he does it how you want it. Romantic, slow and tender? He's in with all at it. Rose pedals even.

in the mood for something more rough and- ahem- man handling? Sure. He's in. But expect a godly aftercare ─ he can't stand the thought of hurting you

Aftercare

whenever, he's all sweet and gentle

acting as If youre made out of glass and will break any moment

once again he'll do anything you ask him to do.

a bath? 'Of course, my love.' Just a simple glass of water? Its already on your nightstand. Cuddles? Thats already happening before you had the thought. A massage? 'Just relax,'

a dream, literally.

he'll clean you both up without a second thought and wont let you lift a finger

if you do, youre met with a pouty expression on his face.

Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed it. A little rushed.

[kitkats-and-kittens]

My issue with derision and how it deals with Marinette’s problematic behaviour.

Disclaimer before I make this post that I’m not an avid miraculous fan, so if I get things wrong feel free to correct me.

I used to watch it a lot as a kid but I’m not so into it now. The reason I’m making this post is because recently my little sister came over to visit me and she loves the series half to death. I decided to sit down and watch it with her just for fun, and long story short my ADHD hyper fixation kicked in and I ended up binging 2 whole seasons.

And OML the only thing that did was remind me why I stopped watching the show in the first place

As a kid I never liked Marinette’s character. That was more of a me problem though since back in season 1 there wasn’t really too much wrong with her, I was just having my whole ‘I hate girly things phase’ so I didn’t like her.

However When season 3 came out she was firmly cemented as my least favourite character. I didn’t like her weird, creepy behaviour as well as the fact that the writers didn’t really give her any flaws, or at least none that really effected the plot.

I think the thing that made me the angriest was the fact that no one seemed to address it. The writers didn’t seem to care, everyone in the show applauded and even encouraged her behaviour and everyone in the fandom seemed to love Adrienette. I couldn’t find anyone mentioning the fact that the girl literally broke into his house and it pissed me off to no end.

As it turns out though I wasn’t the only one offset by her behaviour as in one of the recent episodes ‘Derision’ the writers finally decided to address the huge distaste with Marinette’s actions.

Of course this show being what it is means that Marinette can’t have a single flaw, so instead of doing what I thought was the logical thing and having an episode where the staking is seen and addressed as a bad thing and Marinette takes measures to fix and develop herself the writers decide to just excuse it all by saying she was traumatised.

I hated the way they dealt with this.

First of all the writing was just lazy.

Her being suddenly traumatised by Kim despite having absolutely no issues with him anywhere else in the show? I thought that was stupid and not well thought out since this whole bit is just the writes slapping a bandaid solution on fans complaints. Also I’m vaguely certain that Kim has a canonical fear of spiders so why is he using them to prank Marinette of all people with?

Second of all it doesn’t do a good job of explaining why she was a stalker.

In the episode she says that it was because Kim broke her trust so she now refuses to get into a relationship with someone without knowing everything about them.

This is supposed to explain her weird behaviour towards Adrien but it doesn’t simply because this is shown to only be a problem with him.

It’s not like we catch her breaking into Luka’s house on multiple occasions so she can go through his things and sniff his pillow. Nor does she seem to care about finding out anything and everything about Cat Noir. I’m fine with this being the case when she’s ladybug since she doesn’t really show any romantic appeal towards him but as Marinette?

The show establishes that she has at minimum a crush on him and that’s all it took for her to start going after Adrien, and maybe you could say that she doesn’t have the means to stalk Cat Noir since she’s a civilian but we’ve seen repeatedly that she’s not above abusing her own superpowers to do so with Adrien.

Even the argument that she wants to protect secret identities is useless when you watch Ephemeral and see that she was completely on board with manipulating Cat Noir so she could expose his identity to a person without his consent.

I think the worst part for me however, is the fact that I could look past all the lazy writing and the pathetic excuses used to justify her actions if she’d done the bare minimum by apologising to Adrien.

Admitting to him what she’d done and telling him she was sorry. I would’ve liked it if the writers didn’t have Adrien forgive her (at least not right away) but I know they don’t have the capacity to have Marinette be genuinely in the wrong for anything so I would have settled for just an apology instead.

But they can’t even do that! All that happens is that Marinette promises to herself that she won’t do it anymore and as usual Adrien is left none the wiser.

Even though I’ve only recently gotten back into the show this episode along with Kuro Neko and the season 5 finale have shown me that I genuinely can’t ship Adrienette in good conscience anymore.

Marinette just lies to him about too much important stuff. It’s so unfair to him that he’s constantly kept out of the loop about things in his life that directly involve him and the people who do this face absolutely no consequences.

Heck even Gabriel got his happily ever after by bringing his wife back meanwhile Adrien is living a complete lie as the people he cares about reassure him that everything’s fine when it really, really isn’t.

I’ve seen people act like this episode somehow provides a good excuse to Marinette’s actions but barely anything is done in terms of character development so I have to disagree with them.

Anyway thanks for comin to my tedtalk if you want to argue with me in the comments please be respectful about it.

[wirewitchviolet]

Bigots and Bathrooms Part 97

So today I woke up to see someone linking a news article with the bonkers headline Pennsylvania School Covers Surveillance Windows in Gender-Neutral Bathrooms," which aside from bringing up the obvious question of what the hell "surveillance windows" are, got my hackles up because whenever I see anything about gender neutral bathrooms I know some confused bigot who thinks those have something to do with trans people is going to be trying to start something. Here though it was actually a weird variation on this, because rather than a situation like it usually is where confused weirdos think gender neutral bathrooms are some kind of special bathrooms buildings are being forced to set up for trans people because we can't have trans people using normal bathrooms, this actually is a weird case where we ARE in fact, talking about special just-for-trans-people bathrooms and the headline calling them gender neutral is just getting the facts wrong. Which of course makes this way more messed up. Anyway I'm going to ramble about gender neutral bathrooms for a bit, scroll down to the header if you care about the actual contents of the article.

So to once again just try and break down this weird language barrier issue, a gender neutral bathroom is just a regular bathroom. I feel like the vast majority of us have these in our homes. You've got a little room somewhere, and there's a toilet in there, probably a sink, maybe even a bathtub/shower which you'd figure would be more standard if we're gonna call them "bathrooms." If you're really well off, maybe you even have more than one spread around. But the idea is if anyone in your home needs to excrete waste, wash their face, fix makeup, lock the door to a small room and cry, whatever, they can go into these tiny rooms and do that.

Since those are things people often find themselves needing to do quite suddenly while they're away from home, we also make sure to have bathrooms in... all buildings everywhere (ironically without the tubs, generally). Sometimes we even build tiny little buildings that are ALL bathroom, in parks and such, and we even make weird portable little bathroom pods for temporary setup at construction sites. And anywhere that isn't going to have a huge number of people in it, these are usually just normal, or "gender-neutral" bathrooms.

Places big enough to assume they're going to have people in need of bathrooms so often that even placing them in clusters or 2 or 3 isn't going to get the job done though will generally be opt to instead go for this rather industrial public bathroom setup. You make one big long narrow room, you cram as many toilets as you can fit together along one wall, you put sinks along part of the other, and you put these super sketchy partitions up between the toilets with flimsy little doors so you have at least a little privacy while your pants are around your ankles. And if humanity were less messed up in the past, that'd be the end of it. We'd just have these, and these too would just be normal, gender neutral bathrooms.

But we kinda had this weird period in history where people were doing a TON of large-scale urban construction while also being so institutionally sexist that we ended up with all these huge high occupancy buildings being planned out on the assumption that nobody's going to be in them besides cis men, and like... I don't want to generalize or anything, but the subset of cis men who also have this weird thing going on, I don't know if it's part of the whole machismo thing or what, but they REALLY like to pee on the sides of things instead of in a toilet like a normal person. Doesn't really matter what it is. A tree, the side of a building, a field of freshly fallen snow, just out an open doorway into the street if they've had a few drinks. It's frankly freaking gross and a public health hazard, but there were enough of these guys offering up how nah, they totally don't need toilets in this place, if they have to poop they'll just wait until later and if they have to pee they'll just pee on something somewhere and I guess enough people looking to cut any possible corner that they came up with this weird compromise were someone designed these special toilets for special boys where there isn't really a toilet at all, just a slightly indented chunk of wall made from toilet porcelain (or when REALLY cheaping out, a single big wooden trough angled towards a single drain) they can pee all over the side of and have most of it still go down a drain, rationalized because you tend to have to pee more often than poop and all, and hey, you don't need to waste any water flushing it (even if mercifully the compromise did involve hooking fresh water up to a handle to at least briefly rinse the back plane should they bother to flush).

Then when society kinda eased back on the whole rampant segregation thing and acknowledged the rest of us maybe will have to go to the bathroom while we're shopping or working or at a restaurant or whatever, first off I kinda have to assume there were suddenly a lot of horrified complaints about how these public bathrooms have these designated walls-for-gross-dudes-to-just-walk-up-and-pee-on with huge puddles of splashback poolage under them, and definitely because people were still being sexist enough to act like women are too delicate and prone to being "stolen" from their husbands, so we started the whole gendered bathroom thing. Keep most of them as is, and say those are Men's Bathrooms, and take the disgusting walls-you-pee-on out of the rest and say those are Women's Bathrooms. And then you know ideally reclaim that space somehow, and in the future design it out. And of course in a lot of places we build these 50/50 because cis men are what like 47% of the population or something like that?

Anyway, now we have this modern push towards planning new buildings and remodeling old ones around by just not having these weird little Men's and Women's signs on them and just... you know, having all (or at least more normal), or gender neutral bathrooms. Which again, Women's Bathrooms already are. It's just about not having so many gross walls for guys who don't like using toilets, and not creating weird situations where roughly half the people who have to use the bathroom have to crowd into the half of the bathrooms that essentially only have half as many toilets in them because when I say that space got reclaimed I don't mean filled with more toilet stalls, and otherwise just not like, reserving the space arbitrarily. The math is just terrible as it is all over the place.

I cannot stress enough that not one word of any of the above has a damn thing to do with trans people. Like yeah we all go out in public and need to use bathrooms too (trans femmes on HRT in particular are frequently prescribed diuretics making us more frequent visitors), but we are a small enough percentage of the population not to impact the cost analysis of toilets vs. disgusting walls to install. Please leave us out of the conversation.

The article bit about this messed up school on the other hand IS specifically about trans people.

See, what this particular screwed up bigoted school board decided to do a year ago was they "unanimously approved the creation of five different bathrooms." One for cis girls, one for cis boys, one for trans girls, one for trans boys, and one non-public normal just like you'd have in a house or something gender neutral bathroom... presumably because that already existed because school staffs generally don't wanna share bathrooms with the students and I can't blame them. And then they spent $8700 bashing down the walls to the two trans-only bathrooms, with plans to install big glass windows there so everyone in the hall can stand there and watch trans kids go to the bathroom like it's an aquarium exhibit. And someone sensible caught on and freaked out so they are... apparently haphazardly boarding these over now, with plans to actually repair the walls of course not being a thing ever. And this bit's pure speculation on my part but given the standard layouts bathrooms tend to have and these being described as windows, enjoy the particle board where there used to be a nice-ish bank of sinks and mirrors?

That's pretty horrific, take a moment to take it in, then sit back down and let's talk about how this is maybe even more messed up than you realized. From the sound of it, this school only had 4 public bathrooms for students to begin with. Two boy's two girl's. That feels about right for every school I've ever been to. First floor, second floor if it's a two-story building, or like opposite ends if it's single-story. And I'm just gonna go ahead and go out on a limb and guess that the percentage of students at this school who are openly trans is a fair bit less than 50%. I don't have the numbers in front of me, but generally speaking, schools that pass totally screwed up discriminatory policies around trans students tend to have somewhere between like... zero and three trans students on the rolls in total, out of several hundred.

So what we're really saying here is that THE ENTIRE BOARD of this school district as just this completely unmotivated act of pure hate and wanting to send some kind of a message to some boogieman they've imagined after watching fascists demonize trans people so much they completely lost touch with reality, not only decided to just demolish half the bathrooms in this school, forcing the entire student body to go WAY the hell out of their way half the time if they want to use the intact ones, but waste about $9000 of taxpayer money out of a budget that's gotta be a significant percentage of to do it, with maybe one or two trans kids even going to this school for them to point at classic abuser style to shout "look what you made me do!" at, and maybe encourage the rest of the student body to take out their frustrations on.

That would be the South Western School District board of Pennsylvania, headed by one Matthew Gelazela, if anyone happens to live in that area and wants to take the appropriate action to replace, again, literally everyone on this board, with people who aren't going to blow huge piles of your tax money on crap like smashing holes through your kids' schools on a whim.

[tealeves]

Pulse of Life Press 1st Anniversary - and an experiment!

It's been a whole year since I started this crazy artform! I can't believe it myself. The amount of books I've made in the past year has long since hit the double digits, and each and every one of them is incredibly important to me, flaws and all.

However, there was one book - my first book - that had more issues than the others, some that outright interfered with reading. Luckily I've been learning book repair at the same time as binding, but when I tried to fix some of the problems for Bernhardiner, it went...well... about as badly as it could.

What to do, then, with a ruined book? I didn't have enough decorative paper to completely redo the cover, with all the little dogs. But then I thought - why not leave the cover? I know how books work - I could pretty easily detach the whole case from the ruined textblock, make a new textblock, and just reuse the old case. It seemed like a sound experiment. Now, for the press's first anniversary, I have compiled most of the process under the cut, complete with pictures.

Please come along with me on this journey!

This was the beginning of the process, after having slooowly and carefully detached the endpapers of the textblock (right) from the case itself (left). You might remember this from my recent shitpost! To loosen the adhesive and separate the two parts without ruining either one, I initially slid a bonefolder into the hinge area of the case, and then switched to a thin little boi called a microspatula to slip through the glue not unlike a letter opener.

This did lead to some wear and tear on the boards of course, but it could have gone a lot worse. Most binders that I've learned from use a homemade wheat paste to attach case to textblock, but so far I have not been able to make it without the ingredients turning into an Oobleck-esque gelatin. Thus I use PVA glue, which is far stronger, and can lead to things like this. Still, not too bad. The case was successfully salvaged!

Before I describe and show off the redux, I just wanna share a couple of the errors and mistakes I made on the first textblock here, as I usually try and photograph my books with the least amount of flaws visible. Here we can see, firstly, that the glue job on the spine was shoddy at best; none of it really got quite between the individual signatures of the book, leading to weird gaps like that which compromise the stability of the book and show off the spine liner/mull, to my dismay.

In the other two pics you can see page numbers where they're definitely not supposed to be. Ah, MS Word, you son of a bitch and your terrible, terrible pagination settings. Took me months and months to learn how to paginate my books correctly, up until about my FINAGLC bind.

Not enough glue here on the pre-made endbands, either. It would sometimes fold under while reading, which wasn't super fun to see.

Finally, the botched repair that started this whole journey - I had attempted to fix one of the gaps between signatures (seen earlier) with some Japanese repair tissue, but ended up sticking these pages awkwardly together and fucked up that little top part there. A nightmare!

For all the above reasons, I actually decided to go back to my original typeset and revamp it. I've gotten some... teasing in my binding groups for the fact that my first few books were set in Times New Roman (which I actually find satisfying to read, thank you very much), which apparently gives off a sort of amateurish vibe. I've been experimenting with body fonts since, and the two I reliably use at the moment are usually Sylfaen (for shorter, smaller books) and Baskerville Old Face (for longer books). I switched it to Sylfaen here, and you can compare and contrast the results far down below.

Now, I'm not going to detail the entire bookmaking process here - just the interesting bits. If you want to learn how to make books, I highly suggest checking out @renegadepublishing's resources, as they're how I learned. But here we can see all the new signatures of the new edition nice and crisp and printed. In the second photo they've even been punched for sewing already!

At the co-op where I print and sew my textblocks, I often get to use real nipping presses like this bad boy right here. It's entirely metal (iron?) and way too heavy to lift. Between the two scrap papers peeking out is the new Bernhardiner!

But at home, this is my current set up:

Everyone, meet the eponymous Pulse of Life Press. POL Press, meet everyone.

A family member of mine made the wood part (obviously, a separate piece from the HS books) for me last Christmas, with no real knowledge of what a book press should look like at all. It's sort of a cross between what's known as a lying/finishing press and just some sort of regular old clamp. I line it with wax paper, stick the spine of the book in the center, tighten, and then cover the rest of the textblock with my trusty viz Homestuck books. It's a little MacGyver-y, but it's served me well.

This is the part where you glue the spine, attach the endpapers, and so forth.

For this redux, I decided to continue practicing making my own endbands instead of using the same pre-made ones I had for the first copy. These ones actually came out pretty darn well, if I do say so myself! They're the absolute neatest I've made them so far, and that's a relief. Obviously I still need work, but it's so lovely making them. <3

After this, I actually don't have a lot of pictures! It's basically just press, attach the spine liner and glue again, press again, casing in, and then...

Et voila!

Lookin' pretty good, if I do say so myself.

I didn't get exact duplicate photos of the original textblock's mistakes for a before/after, but you can probably just tell from these just how cleaned up the new one is. Rest assured those pesky out-of-place page numbers are long gone, and my spine gluing has gotten a lot better. I'm honestly just glad that it cased in so well - I was worried about that flaky board for a minute there!

And that's all. Thank you for coming with me on this little peek behind the scenes! Here's to many more books in the coming year - more to read, more to make, and more to write.

Cheers!