#single piece flow

[habken]

I've been rigging in harmony for almost five years and have done so on TV and streaming productions so if you have any immediate questions or anything lmk!

oh wow that’s so cool :0 and thank you!!

Honestly I think I need to mess around a bit more before I have any decent questions to ask haha, but if there’s any general tips or like “remember to do this” type advice you have, that would be so great !!

[moosegbt]

Happy one year anniversary to my Over the Garden Wall VHS tape project!

I made it in both orange and black. I like black more, but orange really feels more in the spirit of the season. I used the shell from a VHS copy of the Rugrats movie.

I made the box art using various screenshots from the show, as well as some promo art. The description was taken from the DVD release, and the description title “will you take a peek?” was the tagline during the promotion of the show.

The back also has a fun little easter egg: the barcode is for candy corn!

What’s more is the tape has a special cut of the series that I made myself. I cropped every single scene in every single episode to make sure it naturally fit in a 4:3 aspect ratio, and I edited the episodes together to flow as if it were one movie (the pacing is a little like Babe). Additionally, I added trailers for movies that give me the same nostalgic vibes (The Last Unicorn, Princess Mononoke, Steven Universe: The Movie, and The Iron Giant). I also added the Warner Brothers and Cartoon Network title cards.

I printed this cut into the tape by integrating a VCR into my PC setup. If you want to see more about this project, I have a few videos about it on my TikTok @MooseGBT, or you can check out the main one right here!

The video has an earlier version of the tape, which is why the actual tape doesn’t have a real label (it’s kind of just a piece of paper slapped on upside down with tape). The content on the tape, however, is the same.

This was a really fun project, and I’ve already started working on a VHS cut of Scott Pilgrim vs The World, Steven Universe: The Movie, the Star Wars Sequel trilogy (I have 1-6 on VHS, and I also want 7-9), and the other Star Wars movies (the Christmas Special, the Clone Wars, Solo, Kenobi, and Rogue One). I also have plans to begin editing and printing the FNAF movie, the spiderverse trilogy (once ATSV pt 2 comes out), and Don’t Hug me I’m Scared.

[saturnsorbits]

Another piss fic where Jo has me virtually foaming at the mouth and this time, she's also got me lusting after a man I don't even know.

Side note: Not only is it a sign of great writing when your audience trusts you enough to read kinks they may or may not be into (I still blame Jo for my developing a piss kink, because Dirty well a truly did me in); but – Even without knowing this character or the fandom as a whole all too well, I knew for a fact I would still enjoy this piece. Jo takes these characters and makes them her own, adding a flare only she can add as she takes her audience on a journey few won't come back changed from.

Possession seethes through this piece. It's the backbone, a building block that supports not only the piece as a work of creativity, but the characters within it. Chigiri is possession personified. From the opening lines of context where we learn of the exhaustive nature of Chigiri's blossoming career and the seeming calmness that comes in-between football, there is an overarching sense of power... One that not only comes to embody Chigiri as a man, relating to both his prowess on the field and the way he conducts himself with Reader (The line 'The blasé attitude' that is quickly followed by a knee-shaking 'I don't care' is not only a perfect example of this, but one of the reason's I'm currently running to see exactly who this man is because fuck me, Jo has made him seem incredible), but the act that he later eases Reader into. It's no secret that Jo writes some of the most incredible displays of power and possession, but how she weaves it so brilliantly into the characterisation of Chigiri here is second to none. From those starting lines, we're captured, locked-in and under his spells as he corners Reader – 'tempting [her] to do it.'

The pacing in this piece is also brilliant. The longer contextual sentences ease us in, fading to those short, snappy ones as we sink deeper into the piece. Each blunt, stand alone 'But he kept going.' or 'He hasn't finished enjoying you' not only hammers home the urgency both with Reader's need to relieve herself and Chigiri's need to have her, but begins to mirror the increasingly quick and frantic thrusts of his movements. As Reader gets closer to her end and Chigiri sinks deeper into his need – these sentences shorten, mirroring this and putting us, perfectly, right into the mess of emotions swirling around both of these people's chests.

Even as only a snippet of a piece, this is a glorious read. From it's wonderful characterisation and brilliant structure, to how it controls the themes of power, possession and need that flow so easily throughout the fic.

So, yeah... This might be a piss fic, but it is written absolutely perfectly.

Oh.

And, it's super fucking hot too.

Gonna call it self-indulgent Saturday.

Pairing: Chigiri Hyoma x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, not proofread, established relationship, piss.

These moments with Chigiri were few and far between since he’d entered the leagues, being one of the most in demand players in Japan meant early practises and even earlier nights, your boyfriend often exhausted by the time he’d make it home.

But some days were bliss, the quiet moments where it was just the two of you, no distractions from the outside world, and no football.

He’d cornered you on the way to the bathroom, calloused palms grabbing your hips to lift you up onto the counter. Ignoring your pleas that you needed to use the bathroom first, that you’d only be a second. Even more desperate by the fact that your boyfriend had you mere inches from the toilet, one turn in the small bathroom in your dingy apartment and you’d be seated right there… but for now Chigiri had other plans.

“Fuck, beautiful.” He groaned against your neck, teeth nipping at your jugular as he rut his hips against yours at a selfish pace. The pent up frustrations from the loss of his friendly match against Manshine City had him taking those frustrations out on you.

“Oh, shit.” You whined when he pushed your back against the freezing cold mirror, changing the angle slightly as he towered above you. Your thighs clung to either side of his lean hips as he continued his selfish pace, goosebumps prickled against your skin from the chill as the warmth emanating from between your thighs felt as though it was warming the entire room.

“So pretty for me,” He cooed softly, although his movements contradicted the sweet tone. Setting a brutish pace as he continued to pound into your tight walls, “Missed you.”

“Please, baby.” You whined, feeling the pleasure overtaking the desire to relieve yourself but only just. The tickling ebb still throbbing in your bladder, “Just lemme pee, I’ll be quick.”

“Fuck,” He grunted, “Can’t stop— feels too good.”

You felt his pace speed up, as though he was tempting you to do it— to relieve yourself while he was buried deep inside your tight cunt. But you couldn’t, and you wouldn’t. Even the idea of embarrassing yourself in such an intimate way had your cheeks flushed and your teeth gnawing your lower lip as he seemed to continue to tempt fate.

“Just do it,” He hummed, pressing his lips against your jaw, the soft stubble against his chin tickling you as you felt your walls throb around him as you relaxed, “I don’t care.”

The blasé attitude of your boyfriend who was usually so caring had your thighs quivering as you felt yourself dancing on the edge of your release. Just a few more thrusts and he would have you tripping over and into your bliss.

“Hyoma.” Your orgasm crashes through you in pleasurable waves as his name fell from your lips. The dull ache in your bladder forgotten momentarily as your entire body was filled with scorching hot pleasure.

White spots began to blank your vision as the pleasure of your climax flowed through every inch of you. No matter how many times Chigiri managed to captivate you in this state, you’d never tire of the feeling. The toe-curling euphoria was enough to set your entire body at ease, your muscles relaxing as you lay back and let him use you for his own pleasure. Expecting him to give a few more messy ruts of his hips and give you exactly what you wanted— the sweet sound of your name tumbling from his lips as he spilled his seed inside you.

But he kept going.

“I could do this all day, sweet girl.” Chigiri groaned, pressing searing hot kisses into your skin.

A steely look of determination on his face as he continued to drive his hips forward, hitting that same spot inside you. Your silky walls clenching around him in the post-euphoric glow as he grunts low and deep in his throat. Teeth clenched to stop himself from finding his own release, not just yet.

He hasn’t finished enjoying you.

“Baby, please. I told you, I gotta pee.” Your walls continued clamping down around him as he grunted against your collarbone, warm breath fanning your skin as he grunted.

“No one’s stopping you, princess.”

His fingers dig deeper into your hips, holding you for purchase as he focuses his thrusts on that same spot inside you. The one that has you clenching around him insatiably as your nails claw at his muscles, leaving messy red streaks along his back. Red hair cascades around your frame in soft rivulets as his intense gaze focuses on where your bodies are connected, watching as his slick cock continues to disappear inside your warmth.

“Hyoma,” You gasp, your chest heaving as he disallows you a moments respite, continuing his brutal pace, “I can’t, it’s too much.”

“But look at you, princess. You can,” He hums, ignoring your pleas as he works you closer and closer to your release, “Show me.”

It doesn’t feel the same as it usually does when he sends you crashing into your crescendo, the pleasure blooming throughout you as your orgasm flows through you in harsh waves. This feels different.

“Are you going to give me what I want, sweetheart?” He hummed, deliberately snapping his hips forward roughly to leave you gasping in surprise.

The first trickle left your body as you felt it almost sticky between your bodies, a warmth that you couldn’t describe as Chigiri’s nostrils flared.

“Fuck, there?” He questioned, repeating the movement as he focused his thrusts on the exact same spot as your eyes begun to roll back, “Yeah? That’s it, huh? Right there.”

You cried out as Chigiri rut forward, your thighs clamping down around his hips in a feeble attempt to squeeze them together as you felt yourself giving in to the sensation. Pearly tears clinging to your lashes as your lower lip jutted out into a shameful pout, the warm stream of piss that you’d been trying to keep inside you now flowing as it began to soak his cock and crotch. The warmth surrounding you both as the liquid began to deep into the thick material of his grey sweats and onto the bathroom floor.

You expected him to pull out, to clean up and probably hop in the shower to finish himself off, but he didn’t. His grip remained firm against your hips as he started moving again, his pace even more ferocious now as he greedily used your body to find his own release. Rough ruts of his hips were certain to bruise your thighs as he watched mesmerised as you continued to cover him in your release.

“That’s it, my dirty girl, huh?” He muttered, greedily using you for his own pleasure as his balls began to tighten. A jumbled mess of your name tumbled from his lips as he met his end, spilling white hot ropes of his cum inside your sloppy pussy.

You were making such a mess of him, and Chigiri seemed as though he could care less. A deep, predatory groan rumbled deep in his chest as he watched you soak him, giving another thrust of his hips to try and get you to give him more as if this wasn’t enough, only serving to fuck his cum deeper inside you. Your entire body felt as though it were on fire as the embarrassment began to flow through your veins, but Chigiri was certain he’d never been more in love with you.

“Such a desperate little thing, pissin’ all over me, hm?” He cooed gently, you’re cunt responding to his sweet tone by clamping down around him, making no effort to try and pull out of you, “My messy girl.”

[farawayfromdryland]

:,

[prkhaven]

DAD AND DOLLARS -p.js-

pairing— dad!jay x money struggling fem!reader

synopsis: The hot rich dad next door needs a babysitter? Sign you up.

genre: smut minors do not interact, dilf au, slight age gap (jay is in mid 20s while reader is in early 20s), p with plot, p with feelings

wc: 12.9k

-all warnings below cut-

warnings: slight jealously, profanity, kissing, alcohol consumption

smut warnings: unprotected sex (just don’t that), p in v, praising, dirty talk, oral (fem rec.), fingering, squirting, breeding kink, creampies, usage of nicknames (doll, good girl, sir)

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You looked dead center at your laptop to see the ridiculous total number summed up. Over thousands of dollars of student debt is yet to be paid off and you’re not even halfway done.

You closed your computer shut because if it was out of sight it was out of mind, at least for the time being. You sighed, rubbing your temple hoping to soothe the ache forming but the sudden loud beeping of a truck backing up disrupted your train of thought.

The annoying blaring sound only worsened your headache that it felt like it was going to explode any second. Your eye twitched, you were already running on 2 hours of sleep, you hoped to at least get some sleep in before working until late in the night.

Standing up from your table, you walked over to the small window that allowed just enough space to see outside but your eyes narrowed seeing someone’s back quite literally blocking your view. You quietly mumbled under your breath before wacking open your door.

You currently were in no mood to deal with any solisticing today.

“Look-” You began but quickly stopped when you see the scene before you, a man—a hot man at that, not much older than you or at least you assumed carrying a little girl who resembles him

His hair perfectly combed back showing off his forehead and neatly done undercut with his sharp jawline that looks like it could quite literally cut you in half, a nose bridge all tall and mighty as he wore a simplistic nude pink button up that managed to make your knees weak.

Not a lot of people can’t pull that color off but he sure as hell can.

What stood out to you the most was the jewelry that shone in the sunlight blinding you. Just from the mere pieces of jewelry alone, you could practically feel the success flowing through and out of him.

The jewelry the little girl wore outcompeted each and every single one you could ever own. And yet, that wasn’t enough to make you peel your eyes away. You hadn’t realized how long you’ve been staring until the said little girl pointed it out.

Embarrassed, you finally looked away and the mysterious man cleared his throat. “Ah, if you'll excuse my daughter”

Wait what. Daughter?!

You held yourself back from dropping your jaw. Even though you were assuming he wasn’t much older than you, he already has a daughter, a young one at that and you’re over here stressing over student debt. What stressful time you must be having.

“We’ve been up since this morning moving in, so she is a little antsy. Please do forgive us for disrupting you”

Anyone would be if they’ve been up since morning to mo- Wait Moving in?

It must’ve shown on your face because the male in front of you lightly chuckled but it wasn’t like the usual chuckles that you hear from other guys. It was rather deeper, more mellow and rumbled out of him and it twisted your insides out.

“We’ve just moved in next door” He adjusted his daughter into one arm hoisting her up with ease while his free hand extended a hand to shake with yours, “Pleasure to meet you, I’m Park Jongseong”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Another exhausting day, another terrible pay.

You’re genuinely wondering how you’re going to manage to just make it by this upcoming month without falling into a hole and never coming out of it.

Your current job isn’t nearly enough to cover all your expenses in the slightest but there’s such a shortage of job opportunities that you’re stuck there until some miracle falls into your lap and presents you with all the answers to your prayers.

Rubbing your shoulders, you twist your head side to side to feel the crack of your neck relieving you from the tension in it but that’s when you hear the deep faint voice that’s been taunting your mind ever since you’ve heard it.

Before you could even prepare yourself or more like jam your keys into the lock to rush in before getting caught you hear the small greeting for you, “Hi miss!” You nervously gulp before turning around replacing your mumbled breath with a sweet smile towards the little girl holding her dad’s index finger with her small hand

“Well hi there!” You cheerily returned her greet with a fast wave, your eyes remained trained on her not daring to look up to her father hoping there would be no interaction between but the universe was not in your favor today

“Coming back after a long day?” His voice filled your mind again and you held back a nervous smile not trusting yourself to speak only left you to nod at his words

Your eyes rose higher until you caught him and he gave a tight smile and you swore your heart might’ve exploded right then and there. It was something so simple yet it had your mind reeling.

You awkwardly touched your neck making it seem like it was sore when in reality you were making sure you still had a pulse.

“Say goodbye honey, she’s had a long day at work. I’m sure she needs some rest” Jay softly spoke to his daughter who looked up to your shaky eyes and raised her hand to wave goodbye to you

Your heart melted as you happily waved goodbye to her.

Too caught up in the moment, you seemed to have forgotten the very man you were successfully ignoring for those few seconds his daughter had your attention, “Make sure to rest well”

Before you could register the words, they were already walking past you in hushed whispers. Your mouth hung open trying to figure out a response that didn’t embarrass you.

“Thank you Jongseong. Same to you” You opted to say through the few second turmoil and when he turned around hearing your voice, it’s corny to admit but it was like slow motion

Everything seemed to be forgotten about as you were solely focused on him. The earrings that hung from his ears, his folded up sleeves exposing his forearm and watch until you saw his beautiful smile. A warm genuine smile.

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“Woah- Hold on. You mean to tell me that good looking man I saw on my way here was your neighbor?!” Your friend shrieked once you broke the news to her

Supposed to be an important study session for your upcoming exam somehow turned into a 3 hour talking session, laptops and papers discarded.

You groan at your friend's words, hate having to be reminded that he was indeed your neighbor. So close yet so far from you.

“He dresses so damn good, looks like he has a lot of” Your friend rubbed her fingers together with raised eyebrows making you roll your eyes, “Plus I saw him with his little sister, he’s such a good brother”

“That’s his daughter” You unconsciously said and you didn’t realize until you took notice of the silence from your friend who stared at you like she had just seen a ghost

“You mean to tell me that was his daughter with him..?” You nodded your head and your friend nearly fell off of her chair at the sudden revelation, “Holy shit… You’re living next door to a dilf!” Your friend screech as she stumbled in her seat over to you

You jumped when she clasped your hands into hers, hopeful eyes staring directly into you with a certain mischievous gleam you knew far too well.

“So when are you getting on that?” Your friend raised an eyebrow and you shot her a confused look

“Getting on what?”

Your friend had to take a minute or so to just look at you in amusement but not in a good way.

“You mean to tell me you haven’t even thought about getting together with him ever since you saw him?!”

You yanked your hands away before lightly pushing her away shaking your head. “He’s either married or at least seeing someone” You said trying to make it believable for yourself more than for her—but you always noticed the lack of band on his ring finger every time you saw him or any sign of anyone else living with him besides his daughter

“I didn’t see any ring on his finger” Your friend shrugged her shoulders, tilting her head to the side

So he must be seeing someone. Because there’s no way that he is single and roaming the streets just like that.

You quickly went to grab your discarded laptop to move on from the topic. This was enough talking for today about your undeniably hot neighbor who just so happened to be a dad.

Your friend suddenly slammed your laptop shut. “What are you doing?” You asked but saw her finger pointed directly towards you

“No bigger question is what are you doing” Emphasizing the you in her sentence

You stared at her dumbfounded, making her groan in annoyance.

“When was the last time you went on a date?” You opened your mouth to respond, “I mean an actual date” You closed your mouth right up

“Exactly! It’s been so long since you’ve been treated, why not indulge in this nonsense just a little” She squished her thumb and index finger together showing basically no space in between them

“In case you forgot, I’m a broke student trying to get by till the end of this month. I don’t have ti-”

“Yeah yeah I know. You don’t have time. You don’t have the money. You don’t have new or fancy clothes” Your friend cited the same excuses you’ve given to excuse yourself from anything thrown your way, “But don’t let it stop you this time. I have a good feeling about this one” She softly hummed with a soft smile hoping you take her words truthfully

“He’s most definitely seeing someone” You softly muttered

“And if he’s not?”

The question made you think. Even if there was the slimmest chance that he was in fact single and was not seeing anyone, why would he look your way? You don’t have much to offer.

“He’s a dad” You reminded but her soft smile dropped into something more menacing

“Well that’s just the cherry on top, no?”

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“What would I do without you?” Your friend chimed, wrapping your sweater over her, it was well past midnight and you finally concluded your study session after all this time and you couldn’t wait to fall asleep

“You’d be walking yourself out in the freezing cold” She chuckled at your response knowing it was the truth but she happily skipped ahead but stopped in her tracks raising and hand up to stop you

Before you could ask anything, she pulled your arm to where she is and that’s where you see Jay. His little girl fast asleep in his arms, her puffy cheeks squishing against his broad shoulder as he carefully closed the door shut wanting to make as minimal noise as possible.

He locked the car and stuffed his keys into his trench coat and right when he turned he caught sight of you and your friend looking, he furrowed his eyebrows immediately noticing how you weren’t wearing a sweater even though you were clearly cold from the shiver you let out.

Instantly you gave a quick smile to him not sure why he furrowed his eyebrows towards you but he kindly returned your smile with his own before walking past you and your friend still making sure his daughter was still fast asleep.

As he walked past you caught a whiff of his musk cologne and you wholeheartedly wanted to delve straight into it. It made your head woozy, it wasn’t strong enough that it was overbearing but it was strong just enough that made sure his presence was embroidered into your mind even when he was long gone.

“Oh” You heard your friend murmur and you turned to look at her dazed expression staring at where he once stood at the side of his car, “You actually got a double D living next door”

“Double what?” Pure confusion written over your face and she rolled her eyes as if it was the most known thing in the whole wide world

“Hello, a double D! A father who has money. Dad and dollars!”

You’ve just had a revelation.

“You my friend have a hot and rich double D living next door to you”

“You’re unbearable” You scoffed but you gasped when she lightly hit you

“That’s you”

“But I am being so serious right now, you better get on that man before I do” Before you could retaliate her sentence you heard faint shuffling coming towards your direction and to your surprise, you turned to see Jay coming back minus his daughter

“Oh” He stopped in his tracks seeing you and your friend, “You’re still here?” It easily could be mistaken as a harsh slap to the face but his tone was soft and gentle that there was nothing to it besides true curiosity

You opened your mouth praying that something coherent would come out but your friend knew better than to trust you and let you figure it out on your own. Especially when he was right there.

“She was just being such a kind friend and walking me out” Your friend softly patted your back and you mentally cursed at how cold her hands were against your thin covered back

“What about you? Coming out again?” Your friend tilted her head and you had to hold yourself back from dragging her away

“Have to bring the grocery up” Jay lightly waved the car keys before unlocking his car as the trunk slowly opened

“We can help you!” Your friend suddenly chimed in and you felt all color drain from your face, you just weren’t sure if it was from the cold finally getting to your numb face or how he stops walking and turns around

“You want to help?” He raised an eyebrow and your friend eagerly nodded and threaded closer to him, when his eyes moved from her onto you wanting to see if you were coming along you remained frozen in place

All the time you were merely in his presence, your body shut down on you as you became just a hollow vessel. He expected a response—any response from you but when he was received with nothing his lips formed a thin line and nodded his head.

“W-wait of course she’s going to help” Your friend awkwardly chuckled before walking back over to you, “It must be the cold getting to her. Silly her for not wearing a sweater”

You came back to your senses when your friend smacked your arm and you winced feeling how your spiky skin was far more sensitive to touch from how long you’ve been out there.

Yet, you didn’t have any chance to collect yourself as she dragged you with her in front of him as she gleamed with a smile. He blinked at the sudden appearance of you in front of him while you gulped harshly trying to keep your thoughts sane.

Even up close, your eyes looked over his face, never able to settle on a single feature until you landed on the slightly chapped lips but moved your eyes up to catch his eyes. Under dim lighting he looked phenomenal.

“Alright let’s get those groceries” Your friend peeped

You looked away from him down to the ground before softly nodding your head. You were going to help gather some bags but you stopped when you felt a weight place around your shoulder. You looked down to see the trench coat over your body.

Turning to face Jay, he gave a gentle nod. “You need it way more than me” His voice rumbled throughout your mind earning the gears to shift inside you by his voice and gesture alone

His eyes examined you in his coat before softly smiling to himself at his thoughts, “Next time make sure to bundle up before going out. You can catch a cold easily”

The cold that was once lived in your body faded away into pure warmth and it was all thanks to your neighbor living next door.

It hadn’t taken long until all the groceries were brought into his place in one trip. Your friend huffed, shaking her head as if she had run a marathon.

You softly chuckled at her state and softly padded her back to help regulate her breathing again. Underestimating her energy after hours of studying finally caught up to her.

“Who… Goes grocery shopping at this time?” Your friend pants

“I guess that’ll be me” Jay chuckles earning a curious look from you which he catches, “There’s not enough time in the day that allows me to properly shop and get everything I need, especially when I’m with my daughter”

“Sounds like you need a babysitter-” Your friend starts but abruptly stops, you looked over to her and saw the same mischievous look on her face and it sent unease to rest in your stomach

“A babysitter would be nice” Jay lowly sighed but waved it off, grateful to spend time with his daughter despite his busy schedule, “I just haven’t had the time to properly look into that”

“Well look no further because I know the perfect babysitter for you” Your eyes widen and you’re suddenly pulled forward once again and stood in the middle of Jay’s place looking like an animal caught in headlights staring right at him

“W-wa-Wh” You tried to speak but nothing came out as you tried to adjust to what your friend just offered, who she just offered which was you

“You?” Jay sucked his teeth as he looked at you noticing how his trench engulfed your body and unconsciously you straightened out your posture, “Just for uhm precautions… Why would you be a good babysitter?”

The sudden light hearted demeanor from him changed instantly and you couldn’t blame him. Two random girls—one of them your neighbor who you barely speak to, was just offered to take care of your daughter just like that. You’d be surprised if he didn’t do this even if it’s late at night and he’s still yet to put the groceries away.

“I-I won’t mind looking after your daughter” You explained as best as you can as you felt Jay’s piercing gaze on you. Adjusting his jacket over you, your eyes flickered around, “I live right next door so I’ll never be far- Plus my schedule is pretty flexible even with schooling”

“And I mean it’ll benefit you in the end right? I’ll do everything I have to do to properly take care of her”

“I'd like to help you out” You managed to give a smile the moment you made eye contact with him which you hoped didn’t creep him out, “I mean- You know to make sure you don’t get burned out so quickly and have time to focus on yourself! Trust me I know how it feels and it’s not fun” You awkwardly chuckled and you could hear your friend smacking her forehead behind you

His eyes never left yours and it felt like he was able to read every thought in your head. There was a moment of silence and you wanted to lay down in a hole and never show your face again. You nibbled on your lip as you watched Jay’s hard gaze on you.

He let out a sigh nodding his head, “Alright. When can you start?”

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Running around gathering your belongings into your bag still making sure to be as quiet as possible in order to not disturb the sleeping child in your bed.

You picked up a sudden dropped shift with the expectation of receiving a higher pay for the unexpected inconvenience. You could really care less for the ungodly hour you’ll have to work, money is money and you desperately need it.

And right on time, you heard the faint knock at your door and you knew it was none other than Jay picking up his daughter.

This was only your first week babysitting her, the first time awkward but easy but after the 4th day it was better than the first time—much better or at least you thought it was.

At your door, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath before carefully opening it to reveal Jay on the other side of it. A striking simple black suit that pierced your heart like an arrow as he adjusted his watch.

He raised his head to the sound of the door opening and gave a gentle smile making warmth spread across your chest. The silly little infatuation is driving you mad.

“Hi Jongseong” You greeted him, moving to the side just enough to welcome him in, “She was a little more tired today. She’s sleeping right now, just give me a second and I’ll go get her”

Without even being able to say a word, he watched as you disappeared. Normally, his daughter would be full of energy ready to greet him at the door when it was time to be picked up.

Keeping his lips in a straight line, he looked around your place noticing it was simple but homey. It spoke loud of who you were as a person which he’s come to realize, he doesn’t know much of.

He only knew the basic things about you but nothing in depth that could make him stand out in your life. He let out a deep sigh at the thought and rubbed his nape but stopped seeing you carefully carrying his daughter.

Her head rubbing against the juncture of your neck, her small arms wrapped around you and the fondness you looked at her with when she let out a small whine when you tried to hand her over to him.

Jay isn’t one to think of anything when seeing someone more specifically a woman holding his daughter but something bloomed in his chest as he watched you whispering in her ear making his daughter pull her ahead away from you to him.

He opened his mouth with a smile and extended his arms which his daughter easily slipped into from yours to his. “Hi sweetheart” He gasped as she quickly knocked her head into his chest and curled into her father’s embrace

You handed over her sparkly pink school bag towards Jay which contrasted his attire but you think it suited him quite well and found it more cute.

“Thank you so much for looking after her” He softly said and just hearing his soft voice made your knees want to buckle but stuck with just waving it off as nothing

His eyes looked you up and down and took notice of your clothing. Rather than the comfy clothes you wore the first time he came to pick up his daughter, you wore more formal clothing this time a jacket wrapped around you with your bag hanging off your shoulder and phone in hand.

Your phone vibrated and you looked at it to silently curse under your breath which didn’t go unnoticed by him. “Is everything okay?” He asked and you forgot that he was still there for a second

You replaced your frown with a quick smile, “Yeah, I just have to head out soon for my shift”

Jay’s eyebrows knitted together, “A shift? This late?”

“Whatever can pay the bills” You sadly chuckled and shrugged it off not noticing how Jay stared at you perplexed, he just got off his shift and here you were going to yours

“How are you going to get there?”

“Walking but if I’m lucky I can catch a bus” You explained but noticing time passing by you don’t think the chances are high

Jay remained silent, contemplating something as you walked them out. His daughter stirred awake when you locked your front door. You quickly apologized and tried to soothe her back to sleep but she looked between you and your dad with sleepy eyes. “Where are you going?” Her voiced slurred with sleepiness

“I have to go work” You softly explained but she tried to reach out to you shaking her head

She mumbles something ineligible and you softly giggled before stroking her head leveling with her whispering a soft goodbye again. Jay watched all of this unfold between his daughter and you, the same bloom in his chest forming all over again.

“I can take you there” Jay spoke before being able to comprehend his own thought process,

Your hand dropped to fall to your side. His eyes widened as he stared at your shocked expression

What the hell is he saying? His mouth opened and closed trying to follow up his statement but nothing came out. But his daughter seemed to understand him better than he understands himself. “Yes!” Her energy suddenly boosted up at the thought of being able to spend more time with you

Jay stared at his daughter, shocked at her quick interest, he looked over to you and saw the shake of your eyes before letting out a strained laugh. “I don’t want it to be an inconvenience” You said

“Ridiculous” He chuckled not realizing how it made the harsh thump in your heart hard to ignore, “Please” His voice softer than the first time

How could you say no to him? Well easy. You couldn’t.

Jay’s car reflected his personality perfectly. Nice and sleek, the black shining leather—Real leather—not some fake leatherette to taint his car. His daughter and your happy chatter filling the car as he follows the GPS to your job.

One could easily mistake the dynamic. Easily. His foot slowed down on the brake pedal coming to a stop in front of the shops that illuminated in bright colors, 24 hours.

“24 hours?” He softly muttered not thinking you’d pick up on it but hearing your light sigh he moved from the sign to you who had a small smile

“Like I said. Whatever pays the bills” You said, “Thank you for the ride I really do appreciate it” Your smile growing before turning your body in the seat to reach out your hand to the little girl in the back

“Don’t give your dad a hard time mhm?” You hummed which caused her to pout her lips, trying to reach other to grab your hand to keep you longer but the restraints of her car seat kept her in place

You shot Jay a different smile. Something warm and tense before stepping out of the car, waving goodbye to them before heading into your job with slack shoulders.

How could’ve he have been so naive, selfish, just so stupid. You’ve been taking care of his daughter while he’s been at work. Picking her up, cleaning up after her, making sure to give the proper meals needed all whilst welcoming her into your place easily, allowing her to sleep in your bed even holding back from taking regular scheduled hours to look after her just to end up working ungodly hours just to get money.

Money that should’ve been in your bank account from the first hour you looked after his daughter and yet, he hadn’t paid you a single dime.

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At the same time you heard the knock of the door. “Right on time” You said while standing up and making your way over to the door which you expected her to follow suit

You opened the door just enough, “Hi Jong-” But it slammed shut in front of his face

Your jaw dropped letting out a loud gasp to see his daughter’s hand on the door, a deep frown on her face before clinging onto your leg, shaking her head. “Don’t want to see him” She huffed

Knitting your eyebrows you crouched the door peeling her off your leg to hold her arms. “Now that wasn’t very nice to do but why don’t you want to see him?” You softly asked but you let out strained a yelp when she launched her arms around your neck

You wrapped an arm around her, hoisting her up. “I’m going to open the door okay?” The lack of response from her made your lip tug to the side before opening the door again

Jay rubbing his creased forehead stopped. You gave an apologetic confused smile but he gave a tired smile in return almost as if he expected it. “It’s time to go back home” You whispered into the little girl’s ear but she let out a whine, roughly shaking her head and only held onto you tighter

Confusion written over your face as you tried to peel her off her body into Jay’s but she wouldn’t budge.

Letting out a deep sigh, he ran a hand through his neat hair. The locks slotted through each crack easily, messily ruining the sleek style into something far more loose.

Awkwardly shaking your head from that thought to look at Jay. “Why don’t you come in?” You motioned him inside just like how you always did

How you welcomed him so easily when he hadn’t welcomed you like that showed the constraint he held himself up to. Sighing heavily as he walked in, you closed the door behind him—rocking the girl in your arms who hadn’t looked at her father once.

“Make yourself comfortable Jongseong”

“I feel like we’ll be here for a while”

And after hours of quite literal utter silence in your place, Jay’s daughter finally fell asleep in your arms.

“She’s asleep” You softly whispered to Jay who immediately perked up from the chair, sleepy eyes seeing his daughter happily laying against your body, a content smile on her face while in your embrace

“Oh I didn’t know you were sleeping-”

“No, it's fine. I’m sorry I fell asleep” Jay tried rubbing his hands over his eyes to wake himself up

“Stressful day?” You softly questioned, it was a little invasive but the lack of sleep infiltrated your regular thought process that you spewed anything that came to mind

Jay stayed silent for a moment, his hands moving away from his eyes to look over to your droopy ones. You still managed to have a smile plastered on your face, especially to him.

There weren’t many times he could be vulnerable, not when he has to prioritize his daughter over everything, to make money which is never an issue for him just to make sure his daughter could have anything and everything she could ever want.

A need to fill the void that no material could ever fulfill.

“Just a little” He deeply sighed, his back sinking into the seat again, his arm resting against the armchair

You nipped at your lip, “Want to talk about it?” Each word smaller than the last not wanting to overstep a boundary with him but it was an invisible opportunity that he’s been wanting, waiting for so long

“That’ll be nice”

As you laid Jay’s daughter into your bed, he stayed next to you the entire time. He knelt to the ground, placing a soft kiss on her forehead, mumbling something inaudible for you to hear before stroking his cheek with a saddening gaze.

He tugged at your sheets making sure she was fully covered before turning to face you. You looked at him with complete utter fondness and he stopped his movement. His gaze remained on you for a split second longer than he wanted trying to pull back his wandering thoughts from going deeper.

Clearing his throat, he knelt up from the ground which brought you out from the haze that you were. Your eyes widened as his eyes never left yours and you quickly turned a heel, “I-I have some wine, do you drink wine? Is wine good?” You rambled

Jay stared at your figure. He let out a deep sigh which soon grew into a small smile when you turned around to face him. The light behind illuminating your figure. “Wine is perfect”

Jay sat across from you, his usually strict attire now messed up. Three unbuttoned buttons from his shirt. Sleeves rolled all the way up to his elbow, his hair out of his slicked style to a messy middle part. Legs barely spread open, his lower body pushed forward as he twirled the wine left in his glass.

“She’s upset with me today” Jay sipped drops of wine out of his glass before resting it onto his lap, “I mean I don’t blame her. I promised that her mom and I would take her out but…” He sighed heavily

The mention of the mother made you suddenly tense. The first time you ever heard anything about her, neither did Jay or his daughter ever speak of her in your presence.

You gulped harshly, shifting on the couch. The material under your body is clinging onto your skin somehow. It’s a normal reaction right or maybe you’re overthinking. It must be the alcohol seeping into your system already even though you hadn’t taken a sip yet.

“We both got caught up in work so we had to reschedule but I had to be the bearer of bad news and when I had to break it to her, of course she was upset”

“I’m actually surprised she didn’t complain to you about it. She made it very known that she was upset at me and her mother” Jay sadly chuckled to himself, his eyes trained on the wine glass

“It’s not your fault” He quickly looked to you surprised to see the disagreement of opinion, “I mean- There’s some things that we can’t control”

“Especially when you and your wife work-”

“She’s not my wife”

Defying silence surrounds you and Jay. He was quick to rebuttal the assumption and it tingles something in your gut.

“Me and her mother co-parent. We were young and reckless and everything just happened before we even realized it and now we have our precious little girl” Jay chuckled looking up from the wine glass to look at you, a certain glint in his eyes.

“But we’re not- I’m not married”

You couldn’t look away from his eyes. They were enticing, captivating you deeper into the very thing you were holding yourself back from. Jay’s eyes never faltered from yours and you wondered how.

Trying to snap yourself from the moment to ground yourself in reality because even if he wasn’t married—Just co-parenting, he has to be seeing someone.

“O-Oh I see” You said, his eyes boring straight into yours

You harshly gulped while trying to ignore the bubbling warmth of hope soaring through you. A voice deep inside your mind voicing out your deepest desires.

Feeling as if Jay could see right through you and hear these thoughts made you shift in your spot again. What if he could hear them? What if he thinks it’s strange?

Through the slimmest possible lens, what if he felt the same way.

“Still don’t blame yourself for it… I’m sure she’ll understand sooner or later. Maybe take her out to help somewhat ease the situation until you and uhm her mother can take her out” You offered some advice as best as you could

Jay remained silent listening to you. His eyes finally look away from you and you let out a silent sigh of relief from the release of his hard gaze.

“Taking her out…” Jay’s voice was barely above a whisper, he twirled the wine once again deep in thought

You stared at him, anticipation slipping deep into each crevice as possible in you until he spoke up again with his eyes looking back up to you, “Definitely will have to do that”

There felt more to his words than the surfacing original topic of it yet, you couldn’t place your finger on it.

“You know she talks about you a lot” You were the one to look at him in shock

“Really? I hope it’s good thi-”

“Always” He interrupted taking another sip of the alcoholic drink to slip past in his throat, “It’s always good things” He smiled towards and there was the same warmth you felt whenever you with him grow 10 folds

“I’ve been meaning to give this to you. I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long please forgive me” Jay shuffled through his discarded jacket before pulling out an envelope leaning over to slide it over to you

“Wha-” His shirt fell just enough that if you dared to look longer you could see the necklace dangling and past it was his sculpted chest

You pulled your eyes to the envelope and grabbed it with shaky hands trying to hold back from showing the burning of your cheeks. Your palm clammy trying to open the envelope but slipping every time.

You continued to try opening the envelope but soon Jay’s calloused warm hands engulfed yours. You jumped at the sudden contact but not enough to pull your hands away. Looking up to him, his face is daringly close to yours.

Able to feel his breath brush against yours, you smelled the hint of wine but it made your insides churn in a rather dark way instead.

“Slow doll” His voice slurred and fluttering, “Take it nice and slow”

His fingers clasped over yours, guiding your movement in carefully opening the envelope. Holding your breath as he made your fingers slip into the envelope slowly slotting your fingers to grab the thin paper inside to pull out.

There was a slight shudder rumbling out of your breath causing him to slip up a smirk. Your eyes widen in pure shock as you read over the words on the paper or more like check.

A check written out to not even a hundred dollars but instead 2 thousand dollars.

“I-I- Jong-Jongseong”

Your mouth fell slack as you tried to find any words that could form at least anything in the slightest but nothing came out. “When are you free?” He whispered, his nose bumped against yours, his eyes looking deep and searching in yours

Your hands fell down with his on top, “I’d like to take you out”

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An all black outfit. The button up something you hadn’t seen before. It accented his shoulders that screamed to you, his daring built back that your fingers itched to claw at. His more relaxed but styled hair with the singular strand falling in front.

Jay looked so good but he wasn’t staying. Instead he was going out while you were staying at his place to babysit his daughter like you always do.

And yet, selfishly you should’ve made some lie that you were busy and wouldn’t be able to babysit his daughter.

But the look in his eyes swooned you and the silent hidden excitement from him landed you right on his couch with his daughter plastered against your side having to watch her dad finish getting ready.

“Please call in case of anything. It’s just some job party, nothing important. They always host them” He rambled trying to diminish the past excitement he had, “Actually you know what? I’m not going anywhere, I’ll just stay with you both” Jay said beginning to take off his watch

“Jay” You simply said which made him stop, he looked over to you letting out a deep sigh, “Go to it. When was the last time you were able to enjoy yourself?”

Two weeks ago when I took you out is what he would’ve said if he had the courage to.

That day two weeks ago had been the highlight of his social life that he’s had in years. Always being so focused on working and taking care of his daughter, he never paid attention to anything outside of it until you came into the picture.

He can remember it so vividly almost as if he were to be reliving it again. Your sweet smile greeting him and his daughter. “Hi” He breathlessly let out seeing you

He awkwardly fumbled with his suit as you took notice of his different style of hair different from the usual one you see him in. Instead of the usual strict sleek hair, it was loosely done, his hair moved to each side to expose his forehead slightly.

“Hi miss!” You looked down to see his daughter dressed up as she crashed her body onto your body in a bear-like hug looking up to you with sparkly eyes

Letting out a heartfelt chuckle, you stroked her head before looking up to Jay with a gentle expression. He’s never been bothered with seeing others with daughter and yet, everytime with you, he feels a twinge twist in his chest watching you and his daughter.

“Daddy give her your gift!” His daughter chirped making him flinch at the sudden spotlight on him, you tilted your head in confusion and he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck before straining out a laugh

He pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and your smile dropped before quickly growing into a bigger one. You nipped at your lip to hold it back anymore but it was near impossible.

“Guess the surprise is ruined” He softly murmur but you shook your head at his words and grabbed the bouquet

“It caught me off guard so I think it’s a success” You chuckled before grasping the bouquet, “They’re beautiful” You admired the flowers while he only looked at you

Jay was floored. “Yeah I know” He mumbled under his breath going unnoticed by you

“Thank you Jay” You looked up to catch him staring at you with a certain sparkle as he looked at you, he let out his own smile and if it wasn't for his daughter tugging at his hand, he wouldn’t have gotten out of the daze he was in any time soon

Instinctively looking at his daughter, he gave two fingers for her to hold and she looked over to you with her hand open. Instantly you knew what she wanted and allowed her to grasp your fingers.

“Let’s head out shall we? Our reservation is soon-”

“Daddy worked hard!” His daughter chipped in cutting him off, “Always on the phone talking to people for it” His daughter spoke making the tips of Jay’s ears turn bright red as you stifled a laugh

“Oh did he now?” You raised an eyebrow looking over to Jay who hadn’t said a single thing to rebuttal the accusation, it was true, he wasn’t going to deny it

He wanted everything to be perfect and by the end of it, it was indeed perfect. Jay held his sleeping daughter in his arms, your hand wrapped around his bicep able to feel the slight bulge of it as he walked you to your front door.

Jay felt accomplished. The day was filled with nothing but laughter and chatter minus the exception of sudden silence when many people mistaken them as a beautiful loving family out to dinner which always left Jay in a ringing frenzy until you snapped him out of it everytime.

He didn’t know why the usage of family with you, to have you be mistaken as the mother of his daughter or as his wife left him hot and his heart pattering against his chest.

“Thank you Jay for today. I had such a wonderful time” You smiled brightly and he was growing too accustomed to see your beautiful smile towards him

“It was my pleasure” He gave a tight smile as he felt sudden jitters all around, “I’m sure she enjoyed it too” He gestured towards his sleeping daughter

You nodded your head, a look of contemplation in your eyes before unlocking your door but right before you opened it, you quickly spun around and planted a peck on his cheek before fumbling with the door behind you.

Jay froze for a moment and just before you could slip through his fingers he strangled out a sound to stop you. You turned around, a faint dust of blush heating your cheeks as you lowered your gaze.

He gulped harshly not thinking this far ahead but knowing he had to come up with something, “I-I uhm if you want to of course- I’d like to take you again” He jumbled his words together until some sentence was formed

He anxiously looked at your dropped expression as you raised your head to look at him and he’ll never be able to forget the chuckle you let out as you nodded your head softly biting back your smile.

The beating of his heart reminded him of what it was like to feel like a little kid having their first crush ever all over again. It never bothered him not feeling this in a long time but now being able to experience it again, it felt nice.

And yet, somehow he never managed to gain any courage to see when you were free. Excusing it to be poor scheduling with his working hours and you taking care of his daughter and schooling hours with the very few work hours you snagged just for extra pocket money even when he offered to pay triple the amount he’s been already paying you—Which was nearly 3 thousand dollars daily.

Money is not an issue for Jay, never has been and never will be and he’s more than willing to cover all and any expenses you may have. His only issue is not nearly having enough courage to ask you again.

“Don’t worry about us, you know we always have our own fun here. Go have yours” Your reassuring voice reminded him of reality as you smiled through a fake smile

As wonderful the idea was if Jay stayed in that exact same outfit and didn’t go out for everyone to throw themselves at him. You knew it was unreasonable, these job parties are probably hosted in the first place with hopes that he shows up to at least one of them.

Ignoring the bubbling gnaw in your stomach twisting your stomach inside and out, Jay lets out a defeat sigh, clicking his watch back on and dusting off the imaginary dust off his clothes.

“Say goodbye” You whispered and Jay’s daughter smiled widely waving goodbye to her dad who stared at her and you in complete awe

He walked over, his hand resting on the armchair and leaning down to kiss his daughter on the forehead. In the process the same musk cologne filled your nose making your head dizzy and having him in closer proximity made your heart thump out of your chest.

His side profile was nothing but sheer perfection. You nibbled at your lip as you examined his features up close, always finding yourself in this very position. And yet, he was beyond reach.

Your lips tugged downwards but tried to replace it with a smile when Jay pulled away and looked over to you. His eyes boring into your wavering ones like usual, there was a split moment of hesitance. You gulped trying to ignore the patter of your heart.

Instead of saying goodbye, Jay’s breath shakily fanned yours with a staggering thing smile plastering on his face, “See you soon”

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He expected the party to loosen every fiber in his body but instead his emotions were only heightened ten folds. Every passing second he’s looking at his watch counting down the milliseconds waiting for what seems like a reasonable time to leave.

Sighing heavily, he shakes his head. He shouldn’t have listened to you. He’d rather spend tonight with you and his daughter watching whatever you guys put on.

Swashing the drink in hand not having taken a single sip from the moment he arrived, his arms resting against the rail as he overlooked to see everyone enjoying themselves. He let out another heavy sigh just to check his watch again.

“Mr. Park you look tensed” He looked up to see his employee leaning against the rail next to him giving him a sly smile

Being the boss he is, he dropped his sullen face to give a professional smile. “Do I?” He sucked his teeth letting out a quick stifle laugh

She giggled at his remark like it was the funniest thing ever said, “Is it perhaps about your daughter?” She tilted her head and Jay didn’t like the fact she carelessly mentions his daughter

However, giving the benefit of the doubt, he assumes it must be the alcohol in her system noticing the nearly empty glass at hand.

He lets out an awkward laugh and tilts his head to the side giving no response. “Or is there stuff happening at home? Y’know I would love to help out in anyway I can Mr. Park” The employee rubbed her hand up and down his arm slurring her words together

His eyes followed her movements and carefully pulled his arm away checking the time, “Will you look at that I have to get back home to my girls”

“Your girls?” The employee muttered to herself in confusion but she wasn’t able to dwell on it anymore when Jay took away the glass with a small smile

“Don’t drink anymore tonight. Make sure to rest properly and take some medicine in the morning” Jay nodded his head and easily turned his heel walking past the other employees who all wondered where he was going but none dared to ask

It didn’t take long for Jay to get back to his but on the drive home, he was in pure contemplation. His elbow resting on the open window, feeling the night breeze fanning his face as his fingers played with his lips.

He possibly couldn’t. He shouldn’t even be thinking about you in this light and yet every time he sees you, he feels like he’s experiencing his first crush all over again.

Jay rushed out of his car once he parked it. Standing outside his front door, his hand raised to softly knock against it. After a few seconds of waiting which felt like an eternity. The door opened with your soft voice. “Jongseong?”

Right when the door was opened wide enough, Jay stepped in not forgetting to lock the door behind him. He knew his daughter was fast asleep considering the time. It was just you and him.

You stared at Jay confused at the lack of response from him but you gasped when he suddenly grasped your hands, feeling the familiar calloused feel of them scratching your skin.

He looked deeply into your eyes and you nearly felt your heart burst out of your chest. There’s always been an underlying feeling that’s been infiltrating him from the moment he first met you.

A pretty, money struggling woman that he wants as his to bask away into the sunset and take care of forever.

Jay’s hand held your lower back, his other hand holding the middle of your back flushing you against his. You let out a small squeal the moment your bodies clashed. His breath fanned over yours and the very faint smell of the musk cologne caused a shiver to run up your spine.

You’ve never seen him like this. So raw with emotion, yearning eyes, a tug at his lips. “Ja-Jay?- Jongseong?” You stuttered not knowing how to address him in this moment, your heart thumping out of your chest

He drew in closer, his lips closing in on yours, “Call me Jay. Call me Jongseong. You can call me whatever you want”

“Just call out to me” You felt his lips grazing yours before he softly planted them against each other

Your squished hands shivered but they carefully climbed higher until they reached his sharp jaw as you pushed further into his lips. Jay let out a pleased sigh feeling the reciprocation. His hand on your mid back traveled to grasp the back of your head.

His hands turned your body, his body filling in any empty space that dared to be left behind. Your hands squeeze in between under his arms, grasping onto the behind his shoulders in a desperate need.

Your mind was reeling, not a single thought in it besides the dad—The hot dad next door, Park Jongseong.

His tongue gilded against your lip, begging for entrance. You easily allowed him to explore your mouth. His teeth tugging at your bottom lip in a haste making your squeal.

“Going to have to be a quiet doll” However, he wasn’t sure if he could keep up with his own words, Jay felt drunk when he was kissing you

Your lips grew swollen from how long he’s been kissing you but not once did he stop, the lack of oxygen would never stop him from kissing you.

The tips of your fingers dug deeper into his shoulder causing him to let out a loan groan at the feel. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was how badly he wants to make you his.

Jay’s arms loosened around your body enough to make his hands land on your hips to carefully guide your body deeper into his home that now always welcomes you in.

You allowed yourself to melt in his embrace. Every touch felt like fire against your skin, your arms flailed to wrap around his neck making sure not even for a second did his lip ever leave yours. Your teasing fingertips entangled in his hair.

Jay bit your lip to keep himself silent through the dizzy feeling of your tugs. The moment you reached his bedroom, the door closed shut as he quickly pushed you onto his bed, never detaching his mouth from yours.

His body slotted between your legs, as you wrapped around him. Holding him to keep him close—daring for him to get farther than just a few centimeters away only to drag him back in.

The feel of lightheadedness was finally catching up, through the few milliseconds that you both stopped to change positions were you able to properly breathe but it was taken away when Jay crashed his lips back onto yours.

The same repeated motions felt like an eternity that you never wanted to escape from. Jay’s hands holding your waist tightly while yours traveled playing with the back hairs loving how they run perfectly in between.

Jay’s been kissing you like a starved man who has been deprived of any sense of touch for so long which wasn’t far from the truth. One final tug at your lips before the wave of air filled your lungs through a loud pant.

Gasping for air contrasted the pucker of your lips ushering more kisses. Jay let out a deep chuckle, his thumb rubbing at your sides now planting softer pecks on your lips with a side smile tugging at his lips.

“More” Your voice slurred, “Please”

Your breathless pleas only fueled him further. Who was he to deny your desperate pleas.

“Talk to me. What do you want, doll?” He hummed in the juncture of your neck, his mouth leaving feathering kisses in its wake

The simple nickname leads to the attempt to squish your legs together, forgetting how Jay rested in the middle. He caught your attempt and let out a chuckle.

“You like being called doll or do you like the fact that you’re my doll? Which one is it, mhm?” An unexplainable courage taking over him that he couldn’t remember why he didn’t ask you out from the moment he knew what he wanted

You could feel the smirk radiating off of him and you rolled your eyes which didn’t go unnoticed by him. He sucked in his teeth, his hand grabbing your chin with force to make you look at him.

“Now don’t be a brat” He tooted before letting out a smirk, “Use your big girl words, which is it?”

Already have succumbed to him and his words from the moment you saw him standing at your front door. “Your doll” You softly said

Pleased with the words, he let go of your chin to capture your lips with his, the kiss softer than the first one. His hand gilded higher up your side. You moaned in the kiss, happy to feel his lips on yours again.

Your hands wrapped around his neck to keep him in place, “Let me spoil you” He murmured, your lips grew in a smirk which he felt, his hand tightened on your waist as if in a warming

Pulling away with a heavy pant, you looked up to him with curious eyes which captivated him, “I spend a lot of money you know” You snapped your fingers, “Just like that…” Your voice becoming lower than the last

Jay let out a laugh, his head dropping, “Well can you waste my money as quickly as I earn it?” His head raised when he questioned you

You froze at the retaliation. You nervously gulped before letting out a shy smile. You shook your head. Jay hummed in satisfaction at the response before planting kisses at the side of your neck. “Didn’t think so”

Closing your eyes, you lose yourself in the sensation. Your body contorted with each of his feather kisses, you bit your lip loving each second of his mouth on your body.

While they moved lower and lower while his hands managed to slip under your shirt feeling your burning bare skin under his touch. You let out a louder gasp than intended when you felt his hand cup at your breast through your bra.

Your eyes shot open only to see Jay looking up to you with a gleam and smirk written all over his face. His hand dragged from under your shirt to your legs, his fingertips gliding until he reached the waist of your pants.

You let out a shaky breath, his eyes pleading for permission. You slowly nodded your head. “What a good girl” He whispered the praise before dragging your pants down

The air caught in your throat but quickly noticing how he was leaving the sticky undergarment clinging to you, you stopped his hands from moving any further.

Jay immediately stopped and looked at you with worried eyes. He retracted his hands away and began to pull away but right when he was going to speak, you engulfed his hands to bring them back.

Stretching out his fingers, you looped them under to grab everything. Jay froze feeling the fabric of your underwear at his fingertips. He looked away with wide eyes to you but you gave a reassuring smile before allowing yourself to melt back into his bed.

“Don’t be so shy” You whispered loud enough for him to hear, he let out strained chuckle before nodding his head

He pulled down every piece of fabric in one motion. You unconsciously squished your legs together, “It’s okay. You don’t have to do a single thing. I’ll take care of you” He softly reassured as he pried open your knees to expose you to him

You closed your eyes shut while your hands fisted at his sheets. Jay’s eyes zeroed in on the glistening entrance that invited him to devour. Opening his mouth with a big breath, he went in and placed an open mouth kiss on your core.

You squealed and jumped from the contact but Jay hooked his arms under your legs before you could fully pull away from him. He groaned at the taste of your captivating arousal on his taste buds. His tongue glided over your folds lathering and mixing his saliva with your arousal.

“Jong-Jay” You breathlessly let out as one of your hands grabbed a fist full of hair, tugging at it while Jay’s mouth sucked and sucked practically all wetness from you

Jay’s groan vibrated from your core all the way to your head, infiltrating it with ease. No response to your calls of his name as he continued to lap at your pussy. Shivering with each kiss and suck, you let out a loud gasp when you felt the intrusion of his tongue teasing your gaping hole.

Jay immediately pulled away, the string of saliva connecting his mouth to your soaked smeared entrance, you nearly came to the scene.

“Shhh, you have to be quite” He brought a single finger over his mouth, a smirk played on his mouth seeing the fading string on his lips, his finger glided over his swollen mouth

It collected all that was left over and Jay brought the finger into his mouth, tasting the lovely essence of you. He lightly hummed before bringing his finger out and gliding it over your mouth. “Open” The tone stern made you listen without hesitance

Seeing how easily you opened your mouth to welcome the singular finger in without any resistance had his pants grow tighter. Your tongue swirled around his finger, your eyes never letting go with his. He smirked wildly as he pushed his finger further down your throat.

A dark cloud consumed his mind. The rationality he tried to maintain drifted further away. You tried to take as much as you could, feeling how his fingers went further down.

“Looks like you can take stuff well” Jay sneered, a crazed looked in his eyes before you began choking on his finger, feeling the flesh reaching the back of your throat

Pulling his finger away, your mouth closed in on it, letting it out with a pop when his finger left the warmth of your mouth. His finger now covered in your saliva, he admired it.

Looking back at you only to see the wide hopeful eyes you stared at him with a loopy smile. “Beautiful” He whispered softly to himself before lowering his head back down

Expecting or more like anticipating the feel of his mouth again, you let out a louder gasp at the slip of his two fingers into your gaping hole. “Was just calling to be filled. I couldn’t ignore it” Jay muttered breathlessly as your walls clenched around him, “I promised to take care of you, didn’t I?”

“J-Jay” Your hand tried to grappled with his wrist but the drag of fingers near lying slipping out just to slip back him made you stop

Knuckles deep into you, he pulled out again just to shove them back in, repeating the same motion over and over again. The squelch of your arousal and the quiet pants let out, your mind became hazy quickly, “Quiet doll” Jay whispered

Before you could retain a sense of awareness to respond, his mouth attached to your swollen begging bundle of nerves and the first suck made you let out a loud moan.

Your hand flew to cover your mouth and with wide eyes you stared at Jay who froze. The single beautiful noise he heard made him smile against you.

He looked to see you covering your mouth, worried filling your eyes. Your chest rising and dropping. His freehand traveled up to replace your hand with his own. His thumb stroked your cheek, a sharp look in his eyes.

Maintaining a good pace, his fingers pumped into your welcoming entrance, never forgetting to curl and scissor you open. You let your moans fall into his hand, muffled more and more, the more he pressed down harder.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head feeling the flick of his tongue on your clit as if it were the sweetest treat to ever exist. The stimulation made you shake and back arch just for him. Breathing as best as you could through your nose with each calculated and careful rub to the nerves had you fisting fisting at his hair while your legs wrapped around his head latching him onto your pussy.

“So fucking sweet” He murmured to your muffled moans, “Give it to me. Be a good girl” He knew you were on the edge, the pulse of you around his fingers was the near indicator, sucking him more and deeper into you

“Jay” You wail in his mouth before lightly biting on his palm to keep quiet as best as you could, “Ja-Jongseong!” You let out louder when suddenly a gush of release shot out of you as you came over his fingers with a tight clench that forced his fingers out of you

Jay moved his fingers over your folds encouraging more of your juices to be released as he slurped as much out of your leaking entrance as he could, not wanting a single thing to go to waste. His tongue only add more to your sensitivity as you body contorted even after it finally came to a stop, “Helping you out” The kisses were only constant while your whines and heavy pants continued, combining together

He stopped with one final kiss before finally pulling away and releasing your mouth from his hand. Your mind trying to comprehend and come down from the new height of pleasure, you let out a loud relieved sigh with a hidden shudder of satisfaction.

Seeing his smeared cover chin and loopy smile he had on his face made your chest flutter, “You okay there?” Jay lightly chuckled at your weak nod, “Big girl words doll. You know how to use them” Jay rose to hover above you

“Fuck me Jay”

Jay smirked letting out a hiss “Wasted no time and used such nasty words”

“Think you can be quiet for me?” Jay hummed trickled down your mind straight to your pulsating hole waiting to be filled

Nodding your head quickly and covering your mouth with your own hands made Jay’s lips tug to the side in pleasure. Jay fumbled with his belt, his eyes never leaving your lingering one and managed to free himself from the restraints of his pants with a strained sigh.

Your eyes widened zeroing in on the prominent bulge that was daring to burst any second, “Let me help you” He whispered replacing your hand with his

Titling his head to the side admiring the scene beneath him. Sprawled onto his messed up sheets that he’ll have to change after this, a daze filled look in your eye and his hand lightly covering your mouth.

Jay used his freehand as best as he could to free his raging hard-on that’s been deprived for many years. Your eyes watched his every move to see how his cock sprung against his abdomen, having your jaw drop. A very much leaking tip and small twitches at the freedom and something that was big—very big.

He felt the slack of your mouth and chuckled to himself feeling the pride swell his chest. “What’s wrong doll?” He murmured when removing his hand waiting for some type of response

Your mouth opened and closed trying to form some type of articulating thought but nothing came out. “Think you can handle all of it? Can you think of taking me all in here mhmm?” Jay’s hand rubbed over your stomach in a slow manner

“Think you can be a good girl and stay quiet while I fuck you senseless?”

You were able to feel the thumping against your chest that you feared he would be able to hear. You don’t think in your wildest dreams would you be able to take someone like Jay. Yet, now in your wildest reality, you’ll try—well more like you will.

You tugged at Jay’s forearm whilst maintaining eye contact with him. The soft tug at your bottom lip as you threaded his hand to cover your mouth. You nodded your head as your eyes looked at him with greed. “Why don’t you find out?”

To your shock, Jay softly tugged his arm away from your hold. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he tapped at your leg, “Turn around”

Seeming getting used to your jaw falling slack, you looked at him in shock but didn’t hear an ounce of sputter in his tone. Not wanting to risk being left all hot and bothered even though you knew Jay wouldn’t dare. You were not testing his patience today.

With a harsh gulp, you flipped your body over. Jay’s hands hovering over your hips before tugging them up before you could fully lay them onto his bed. Your upper body pressed into the mattress, feeling the messed up sheets sticking to the side of your face.

Your hands fisted at the sheets at the new exposure you had for him while your cheeks burned in shyness. He rubbed your hips in awe, pulling one of your cheeks to the side to get a glimpse of the arousal covered crevice. “Is this all for me doll?”

“A-All for you. Just you”

His other hand grabbed the heft into his palm before aligning at your entrance. “Remember to keep quiet” He reminded, “Take a nice big deep breath for me”

You followed his instructions but before you could fully respond you felt the larger intrusion of his tip to your gaping hole making you silently gasp. The stretch compared to nothing you’ve ever felt before and would possibly never.

“Fuck” You breathlessly let out as Jay continued to sink himself deeper

Jay tried his best to not ram himself entirely into the delicious confinement you provided but it called for him—while sucking and welcoming him inside.

“S-shit taking me so good” He muttered as quietly as he could, “Could stay inside you forever”

You felt like you were being split in half just by his cock alone. Your ragged breaths followed after another trying to remember Jay’s advice and not get lost in the sensation.

You peered over your shoulder as best as you could to see how Jay’s looked to where he entered you. The sheer consecration and control made your mind stutter.

Without a warning, in a single thrust, your body jolted forward and you felt full. You gasped loudly, the sheets crumbling more under your clamped hands and body. Your lip shivered as you tried to keep your noises to a minimum.

“J-Jay” Your voice cracked trying to get adjusted to your walls being so stretched out by him

“It’s okay, I got you” His reassurance filled your chest with warmth, taking a few breaths to regulate your body, you weakly nodded your head as you dug your head into the mattress to muffle yourself, “So good for me” He uttered softly tracing your back

Moving his hips once, he quickly got lost in the sense of you wrapped around him. His thrust left you nearly empty only to be filled the next second. Each precise move was calculated to each maximum pleasure possible for you. Nearly able to feel his tip already hitting deep to your g-spot, poking to your insides in a teasing manner.

Your muffled moans fueled Jay further to the edge. He gripped at your hips, his slow pace now picking up only slightly. You were taking all of him and he never felt prouder. “Taking me like such a good girl, so damn proud of you”

Feeling like your head was submerged in water, you relished in his praise. The senses that were always on high alert whenever he was around came crumbling down and became filled with him.

“F-for you” You blabbed against the sheets and Jay managed to hear it making him tap at your lower back as he carefully placed his body onto of yours to melt as one

Each thrust led you further into the mattress, your mouth opened leaving small moans in its wake, leaving your mind blank to only focus on the fulfillment you had inside.

Turning your head to the side, you let out whined filled pants. “Take it doll- Not a fucking sound” Jay grunted darkly into your ear

Your mind tried to recall the words just said to you. But deeper and stronger was the desire to let Jay know how he was making you feel. Feeling you clamp around him harder and the silent pants soon became quiet moans.

“T-Too good. ‘m sorry” You mewled as he continued to thrust into you, “So good, can-can’t help it” Your body meshed as he continued

You took a loud deep breath while a whine rumbled out of your chest when he suddenly stopped his thrust, “As much as I would love to hear you” Jay’s sudden harsh thrust caught you off guard with a yelp, “You need to be quiet” Each word followed by another harsh thrust that touched nearly every thing imaginable inside of you

Your broken wails were muffled by the bedding once again. Seeing the recoil of when he and you meet only fueled a carnal desire in him more. “Gonna breed your sweet pussy doll”

“You’ll be so full of me…Will you like that?” Jay grunts having the calculated thrust embodied your mind and body just for him

His words added to the fire that was consuming your body whole. You nodded your head roughly. “Remember what I said. Big girl words” Jay’s voice lulled into your ear, “Want me to fill you up that’ll you feel it inside of you? Until it’s moving around in you with each step you take?”

The obscene noises only grew louder against his bed as you tried to form a proper sentence to please Jay. “Y-yes” You pleaded as best as you could, “Please Ja-Jay”

“Whatever you ask for doll” Jay snapped his hips harsher, as you clawed at the sheets for support, “Taking me so fucking good- Bet you’ll take everything I give you”

You weakly nodded your head, “Will- F-For you” You murmured

His thrust grew frantic and irregular, his constant grunts filled your ears. The more you clamped around him, not daring to let him go of the welcoming embrace you had around him drew him nearer his organsm.

“Doin’ so good for me” His hand held onto your body when he felt you tightened as you let out the loudest moan of the night as you came all over his cock

Your body shivered as you entered a state of pure bliss. “Take it- Just a little more for me- C’mon doll” His praises slipped passed your gaze and deep into your heart making the clench you had on Jay limit his range of motion but it was enough to have him snap and paint your pink velvet walls white of him.

A low groan slipped his mouth as he halted his thrust to properly fill you to the brim just like how he promised. He watched how you pulsed around him but none of the cum dared to fall out as you took everything he split into you.

Jay’s chest rose up and down, softly pulling out his semi hard cock out of you hearing the small hiss you let out at the sudden emptiness. Your body laid face first on his bed, your body rising and falling with each heavy pant. He smiled softly as he helped you turn your body around to face him.

There he realized his biggest mistake as he saw you masked in an afterglow. Your mouth was slack slightly opened, quiet whines fell out every now and then, your half lidded eyes staring up at him.

His eyes traveled to where he once was inside of you to see the few clumps of cum that spilled out. He cooed before quickly scooping whatever he could to sleek it over your folds before pushing it back in where he left it.

You whined loudly and slightly jolted at your sensitivity being tested when his fingers entered you again. “You did so good for me- Such a good girl for me fuck… I’m so proud of you” Jay planted a messy peck against your cheek, “Let’s get you cleaned up” He whispered

As he was going to remove his fingers out of you, you consciously tightened around them. You lazily shook your head unable to articulate proper sentences that wouldn’t lead you back on his cock again which ultimately failed, “Want your cock” You slurred catching Jay off guard as he let out a strained cough

“Wha-What was that doll?”

“I want your cock again sir”

Like a switch went off in his head. Jay’s demeanor changed. Never knowing the single usage of sir could alter his mind forever. Instantly needing to give you more—more than anything you could ever ask for, wanting to spoil you rotten until you grow sick and tired of him.

He needs to fill you up until you possibly couldn’t hold any more of his cum in you. Softly prying your legs open, he aligned himself at your entrance again gaining your attention at how he easily complied to your request. “No need to ask me twice doll”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The faint bristle of wind coming in through the slightly ajared window, the direct sunlight shining through caused Jay’s face to flinch before groggily opening his eyes with a low groan.

Normally, his daughter jumps on his bed to wake him from dreamless sleep during the weekends. Yet, it was different this time. He managed to wake up on his own to no ruckus but instead a peaceful morning.

Attempting to stretch out his limbs to release some of the tension and drowsiness from it, he stops when he hears the muffled grumbles and faint sound of crinkling sheets. Tilting his head to the side, there he saw you and his daughter basked in the sunlight right next to him.

His daughter coddled in between while you laid against his numb arm, both sound asleep. He fondly smiled to himself before placing soft kisses on each of your foreheads, careful to not stir either of you awake. This was all he could have ever dreamed of.

“My beautiful girls”

——

[dnickels]

Every single time there is a catastrophic flood (so, every six weeks or so) the news will post pictures of people out in their kayaks or canoes pretending its Venice without any commentary and it makes me completely insane. This is dangerous and people die doing it.

Do not go into the floodwater unless the risk of staying where you are is somehow greater than the risk of going in the floodwater. Do not get in the floodwater except as a last resort.

The water itself is bad news (raw sewage, fire ants, industrial runoff) but the danger here is in the movement of the water: water flowing down a street has currents. Sometimes you can see them and sometimes you can't. 12 inches of water can move a car. What do you think a few feet will do to you in your dinky little sit-on-top if you get tired? Who is coming to rescue you if the water starts taking you somewhere you don't want to be?

Visibility in floodwater is shit. You cannot see obstacles (submerged cars, mailboxes, trashcans, etc). Trees and fences will become strainers (imagine pouring pasta into a colander. Now imagine you are the pasta and the force of constantly moving water is holding you in place). If you come out of your vessel you could potentially encounter open manholes or storm drains that suck people in (a lot of water draining through them creates powerful suction!!). People walking in floodwaters regularly step off a curb and are suddenly immersed in moving water well over their head.

Somehow, despite all this, these people NEVER have LIFEJACKETS on!! You own a boat but not a lifejacket?? Not that a lifejacket would make this a good idea, but if you are forced to abandon your home/car/whatever and get in the water a lifejacket might very well SAVE YOUR LIFE.

Look at a picture of professional swiftwater rescuers operating in a flood situation. They have on lifejackets, drysuits, helmets, boots, and a shit ton of gear. You are in a two-piece bathing suit and a shitty walmart paddleboard. DON'T BE STUPID. IT'S NOT WORTH IT.

sorry for the all caps lecture but one drowning is too many.

[punkitt-is-here]

Had to write a three-page screenplay script for a "Discovery" for class. Didn't have any further instructions. It's super off-the-cuff, but I wanted to share it. Happy pride <3

INT. COLLEGE DORM - NIGHT.

A college student sits at his desk, sketching. It's a one room apartment, and his roommate is sound asleep. He's sketching in the light of a single lamp, being quiet. The student, GABE (male, 19) is drawing a cartoon version of himself. He's studying outfits from a fashion catalogue, drawing himself in different ones. He bites the tip of his pencil, not feeling the piece he's working on. He rolls his chair back, reeling away from the desk. Gabe puts his hands in his hair, leaning back and looking at the ceiling. He lets out a long exhale. It's late.

After a moment, he rolls back to the desk. Tapping the pencil to his head, he flips through the pages. It's an unremarkable task, stopping on a random page. Oh, the women's fashion section. It has simple, practical outfits for girls, including a jean skirt. Gabe peers at it. Fuck it, it's late. He erases the pants of one of his drawings and pencils in a skirt instead.

He pauses.

He stares at it.

Something here is weird.

He goes to erase it, but once he does, he just draws it in again. This time with more care. More detail. He stares at it again.

Tears well up in his eyes.

GABE

(whispering)

…what the fuck?

Gabe, confused, touches his hand to his eye. He looks at the tear on his finger. Huh? He stares at the drawing again. He looks back at his roommate, sound asleep. He's having some sort of moment, but he has to be quiet. He frantically looks back at his sketchbook.

GABE

(whispering)

Uh…

A beat.

Gabe starts drawing himself again. In the women's fashion this time. It's like a whole different world. He's drawing like crazy. It's all flowing out of him. He draws another.

And another. Slowly, details start to adjust in his art.

Longer hair. Longer eyelashes. Daintier poses. More smiles.

He's got tears running down his face, but he's not wearing any emotion. He's not sure what to think.

CUT TO

An indeterminate amount of time later. Gabe stares at his notebook. It's full. It's lots of drawings of him.

As…well, he guesses as a girl. But he's not one. He flips through the book again, then turns towards the dark window his desk resides next to. He looks at himself. Patchy facial hair and a shaggy haircut.

CUT TO

INT. DORM HALLWAY - NIGHT

Gabe rushes down the hallway, looking frantic. He's carrying a bag.

INT. DORM BATHROOM - NIGHT

It's quiet inside the bathroom. No one else occupies the space. It's just him and his reflection. His reflection? Maybe their reflection. Her reflection? No, that's not right. Is it right? Gabe stares at himself intently. The whirring of a trimmer cuts through the silence. He brings it up to his facial hair, shearing away a week's worth of fuzz.

He looks at himself like it's not him in the mirror. He holds a hand up to his face, feeling it.

It's not enough. Not yet. He has to know.

He gets out his phone and starts typing.

HOW TO SHAVE FACIAL HAIR OFHG

He frantically types, misspelling. He backspaces like his life depends on it.

HOW TO SHAVE FACIAL HAIR OFF ALL

THE WAY

He quickly scans an article and then gets to work, pulling some miscellaneous bathroom supplies out of his bag. Shaving cream. A razor. Gifts for cleaning up at college. He wets his face. Applies the shaving cream. Does careful strokes down his cheeks and neck. Slowly, someone reveals themselves.

They lean down, splashing themselves with water. They look up, and it's a different person. She's completely shaved her facial hair off. Gabe hasn't seen herself like this since she was in freshman year of high school, before facial hair was even an option. She reaches up and touches her face, smooth to the touch. She stares, enamored. A moment. She grabs a towel and dries her face off, and then looks again. She's so…different. But that's her! That's Gabe! Is it Gabe? She doesn't know anymore. A close up to her eyes. Her nose. Her lips. Her neck. It's all so new. She starts laughing. She laughs, and tears well up in her eyes a little. She laughs some more. In moments, she's full on crying tears of joy. She doesn't know why. But she is! That's her!

CUT TO

INT. SECONDHAND - DAY

Gabe is at a clothing rack, searching for something. She looks around, a little embarrassed. She browses for a moment before finding what she wants. She passes by some more racks carefully, trying not to be too obvious. She slips into the changing room, then locks the door.

GABE

…okay.

Gabe unbuckles her belt. In a moment, she's wearing black leggings. She hikes them up, then unclips a gaudy skirt from the clothes-hanger. She stares at it, a little scared of it and what it represents. She bites her lip. She stretches it out and then steps in. She looks up at the mirror.

Oh shit, that's her! That's her!

Gabe is wearing a long, patterned skirt and a tee-shirt. The colors don't match at all, and the patterns don't either.

She looks a bit like a yard sale of a person. But it's her!

She spins around, watching the fabric flow out from her hips in a whirlwind of stripes and insignia. She laughs again.

This is her! This is her!

This is her!

[hairmetal666]

They start kissing on stage as a joke.

The night before the first time, they're at an afterparty, pounding shots, and Eddie is reading aloud a piece that just came out in Rolling Stone. "'One of the most noteworthy parts of Munson and Harrington's unlikely pairing is their chemistry on stage. It's like these two men--one on his way to being the latest metal god, the other an indie rock wunderkind--are two parts of one musical whole. Their singing, their playing, even their bodies twine and flow with assuredness; where one goes, the other follows without question. They share a single brain-cell and that cell is music'."

Steve giggles, pours some more Grey Goose into the glass. "If they say that now, could you imagine what would happen if we, like, kissed on stage or something."

"What the fuck, Harrington?" Eddie splutters, having just thrown a drink back.

"I don't know, other bands do it!"

Eddie snorts. "I'm cutting you off." He reaches for the bottle and the suggestion is forgotten for wrestling over the liquor.

Steve barely remembers it in the morning. Doesn't think about it at all as he gets ready to go out on stage.

They're playing one of the instrumental breakdowns when it happens. They're leaning into each other, Eddie smiling over his shoulder at him, their eyes locked, bodies moving together. "You wanna?" Eddie mouths at him.

Steve nods before the question actually registers and by then Eddie's warm, soft mouth is against his and he just-- completely forgets what he's doing. His hands still on the guitar strings, and he melts a little, going completely boneless when Eddie grips the back of his head, pulls him deeper into the kiss. t's over almost as quickly as it started, Eddie pulling away and swirling to the mic to start the next verse.

The kiss sinks into Steve's bones, and that's before it becomes a regular feature of their performances. After that night, they're never at the same time during the show, all initiated by Eddie, all over before he can catch his breath; each one chaste and surrounded by people but somehow more intimate than any make out.

He and Eddie, they're friends, bandmates, collaborators. They've known each other since they first started out, forging an immediate connection with they stumbled upon each other hiding out in the garden at some industry bigwig's party. And as much as he loved his friend, never once in that time had Steve considered wanting Eddie.

But now, now he falls asleep with the ghost of Eddie on his lips, goes into each show with a thrum of anticipation, catches himself thinking how beautiful his friend is when he's all rumpled and disheveled from a night in the tour bus bunks.

They've always been easy with physical affection, but once the kissing starts they're constantly in each other's space, idly playing with hair, laying across laps, heads on shoulders, twisting together on the tour bus couch. Steve is ruined with every touch, every moment; he can't get enough.

The first time Eddie uses tongue destroys every last piece of Steve's composure. They've added a new song to the setlist, a remixed version of Eddie's hit "Prince Charming". It's hard, heavy, sexy, one of Steve's favorites. And in the middle of it, right in the middle, Eddie shoves him against a low platform, kisses him like he's trying to own him, tongues twining eager and wet and full of sinful promise. It's like that every show after, Eddie kissing him deep and thorough, like he's trying to lick up every drop of Steve.

He is, unquestionably, fucked. Unquestionably falling. Can't properly fathom how he'd gotten himself here, desperate for Eddie's kiss, as performative as it may be.

They're packing up equipment after a show. Eddie's hair is piled in a messy bun and Steve is trying not to blatantly stare at the curve of his neck, the stray curls against his pale skin. Eddie's gesturing at something, says, "Can you grab those cords, swee--Steve?" He hands them over without thought, notices that Eddie's face is shining red. He's called away to deal with packing the guitars, forgets all about it, but at their next show, Eddie doesn't kiss him.

They don't talk about it.

Eddie doesn't try to kiss him again.

A week after Eddie stops the kiss, they have a night off between shows. He needs to get out of his head, goes out with Robin. He gets back fairly early, but all the lights are off in the bus. It makes him panic in a way it shouldn't; they've always done their own things. Still, he rushes on board, flips on the lights, his absurd heart beating too hard.

Eddie is curled up on the couch, face pressed to the pillows and covered with his hands. The panic kicks up a notch.

"Eddie?" He steps closer, slowly reaching out to grip Eddie's shoulder.

He jerks upright, earbuds slipping free, phone sliding down his hip. "Steve?"

His face is wet, tears actively slipping free from his eyes as Steve watches.

"What happened? Are you hurt?" His hands flutter around Eddie's arms and face, searching for bruises or wounds.

"I'm fine, Harrington," he chokes out. "Though you were out with Robin?"

"Yeah, I was, but Chrissy called. You know how useless she gets. But that doesn't--you--you're crying. What's wrong?"

Eddie's smile is a wobbly little thing, refusing to stick on his face. "Oh, you know, the usual. Fell for the wrong guy."

Steve forces down the gut churning hurt at hearing that Eddie's in love with someone, intent on comforting his friend. He tries to slip his arm around Eddie's shoulders, but Eddie shrugs him off. It jostles Eddie's phone again, slipping it toward Steve and activating the screen. He has a split second where he's looking at the cover of his own first album, before Eddie's snatching it out of reach, scrambling up from the couch.

"I'm fine." He swipes his sleeve over his face. "It's nothing."

And Steve is putting it all together, the being in love and listening to Steve's music, the kissing and how it ended.--

"Eddie." He sounds all wrong, choked and garbled.

Eddie doesn't turn around, is stuffing his feet into his boots. "I'm--I gotta go clear my head."

He walks towards the door and Steve just--"I've been obsessed with you since the first kiss," he says. Eddie stops, hand curled against the door. "We've been friends all this time and I didn't--I never realized. And then we kissed and--it's all I've been able to think about."

Eddie turns then, facing him, expression unreadable."Steve, what are you--"

"I love you. I'm in love with you." It comes out fast, all jumbled, but he can't stand Eddie leaving, not now.

"You--?" Eddie blinks, bites his lip. "That's not possible."

Steve smiles, can't help it. "It is, though. Turns out, I can't get enough."

Their eyes lock; neither speaks. Steve's heart pounds so hard it might spring free of his chest. Eddie moves first, crosses the small distance between them to pull Steve into his arms.

It's not a kiss, but Steve buries his face against Eddie's neck, breathing him in, feeling the echo to the pound of his own heart. "How long?" Steve asks.

Eddie's soft laugh vibrates through him. "Since I saw you walking in that garden and thought, 'jesus christ, Prince Charming is real'."

Steve pulls away to stare at Eddie in disbelief. "But that's--your--the song?"

"They're kinda all about you, Stevie. But that one most of all." Eddie whispers. His eyes glisten.

"Fuck, Eddie." He doesn't mean to whine, but he's not in control of his voice anymore. "I'm sorry I didn't--" He shakes his head. "I'm all yours, Ed. Whatever you want."

Eddie's thumb catches against Steve's bottom lips, eyes transfixed on his mouth. "Everything, sweetheart. I want it all."

[of-many-fandomss]

if you could, maybe a fic where reader is the youngest on the grid, and has lost her father. anyway, she wins a grand prix (whatever you’re feeling, it doesn’t matter which one!), and just immediately runs to charles because she knows her dad’s not there to see her big win. he’s immediately taken back but then understands why she came to him and is there to comfort her

and maybe she invites him up on the podium with her!!

thanks :))

Proud

summary: your father was no longer there, but your next biggest supporter was

paring: charles leclerc x reader platonic

warnings: mentions of parental death

word count: 0.6k

a/n: in honor of my baby lando getting his first win 🥹🧡

･ ｡ﾟ��: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The blur of your vision no doubt made it borderline dangerous to be driving- but you couldn’t care. Not one single bit.

Not as you pulled into the spot reserved just for you, a p1 resting against the poster right in front of your car that you could barely make out.

A sob raked through your body suddenly and you dropped your hemelt clad head into your hands, breathing shaky and heart rate still accelerated.

You took a moment for yourself, your eyes squeezed shut and your senses buzzing. There were screams of the crowd around you, each one of them celebrating your victory in a deafening roar of pure thrill and excitement.

Finally, you jumped out of your car, ripping the hemelt from off of your head just in time to see an all too familiar Red Bull vehicle pull up to your right and a Ferrari to your left, taking up their respective places by your side.

Whipping around, you paid no mind to the cheers of congratulations from your team, nor the reporters that tried to invade your space as you raced as quickly as you could to the bright red Ferrari.

Charles hopped out of his car just in time for you to crash into his arms, eyes once again squeezed shut as you hugged the man tightly.

The man stumbled back a bit- having already shed his helmet- eyes slightly wide as he looked down at you, but softened as he watched you finally let the tears flow free from your eyes ducts.

He recovered quickly and hurtfully swept you into his embrace, holding you just as tightly as you were holding him, neither of you tuned into any of the hundreds of cameras that were snapping all around you.

After so much hard work- after so much dedication- you had finally done it. You had finally won your Grand Prix- and one on your home track nonetheless.

The tears were partially for the dedication that was finally paying off, but it was mostly for the man that you wish was by your side at the moment.

Your father.

The man that had always been your biggest supporter, through and through.

From your karting days to when you finally signed on with Red Bull just over five months ago when you turned eighteen.

Only two months later, he had passed away from a sudden and quick disease that had left you and the rest of your family utterly heartbroken.

Even before he had been gone, Charles had been quick to take you under his wing. You weren’t his teammate, and yet, he couldn’t help the sense of responsibility that took over him when he had first gazed upon you. He had wanted nothing more than to make you feel welcomed and safe in formula 1.

And that’s what he did.

When you had lost the man that had been your biggest supporter- Leclerc became just as large of one.

“I’m so proud of you,” He murmured in your ear for only you to hear, listening to the way you were hiccuping against the material of his tracksuit, “Your father would be so proud.”

You squeezed him tighter for a moment before pulling away, laughing slightly through teary eyes at him.

Charles smiled, moving a piece of hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear, “I’m so proud of you.” He repeated.

“Thank you,” You whispered.

Thank you for saying it. Thank you for looking out for me- for always being there.

Though you didn’t say the words, your eyes shone brightly with them and the man understood.

He nodded before taking his gloved hand in yours, “Come on, let’s get you to your first top spot on the podium.”

When you turned around, you were greeted with the sight of screaming, ecstatic fans, and beaming drivers.

Each and every person in that place was so proud of you, but none smiled as brightly as Charles when you mounted the top of the podium and held your trophy up high.

[dazed--xx]

SKZ!Reactions: It Was All a Bet II (Hyung Line)

Part 1 Maknae Line Masterlist

A/N: I put this out as like a little birthday present for myself lol but yeah, i hope you guys enjoy. a lot of you have requested this and have been waiting on the edge of your seat for this so here it is. i hope it lives up to you guys expectations.

Chan:

A series of rapid knocks slammed against your door; you roll your eyes from your position on the couch not moving a single inch to open the door. Turning up the volume on your t.v you hear your phone ring, seeing Chan’s contact name on your screen you snort to yourself. Another round of knock’s bang against your door. “Y/N, I know you’re home! Please just talk to me!” Chan pleads on the other side of the door. You shake your head to yourself, continuing to ignore him. You turn the volume up on your t.v. again drowning Chan out as you try to ignore the ache in your chest. The betrayal you felt beyond measure as you remember the way he laughed as he jeered at his friends about his win almost being guaranteed. How could he? You thought he loved you. You believed him every time he kissed you and held you close. The nights you spent wrapped in each other’s arms felt real, you couldn’t describe the pain you felt as he uttered those devastating words. It had been 4 days since you heard it, you couldn’t handle opening that door and seeing him after he took your heart and smashed it to a million pieces. You sniffle as you wipe a stray tear flowing down your cheek.

“No…Don’t cry over him…you’re not some weak heroine….” You tell yourself as the calls and knocks come to a stop. The sound of your door opening makes you jump in a panic, your eyes widen as you turn to see Chan entering your apartment. You shake your head as he slowly enters, his head hung low as he closes the door behind him. His eyes meet yours and you notice all the tension in him leave his body he reaches toward you, a desperate look on his face as he strides across the room toward you. “Babe--No.” you cut him off monotonously as you look away from him.

“Get out.” You demand.

A look of horror spreads across his features as he stares at you. A painfilled gasp is released from his throat “Y-You wont even let me explain?” His voice cracks as his eyes fill with tears. “There’s nothing to explain…. everything we had was based on a lie” You counter coldly. He shakes his head as he steps toward you, his heart cracking as you take a step back “N-No..you really misunderstood. Please…. please let me explain…l-let’s just sit, a-and talk. I promise its not what you think” You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter…. —I asked you out before the bet was made” He cuts you off desperately. “I-Im an ass for making the bet but, I never asked you out because of a bet I promise you that.” He continues nervously. Your head whips toward him, your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion as he explains “The bet was about the length of our relationship. I swear. Im not saying I was right to make the bet, but the guys kept saying that we wouldn’t last three months. My schedule is hectic and unpredictable so they kept saying that you’d feel forgotten about and that we wouldn’t even be able to make three months. So, I just made the bet and yes, I was stupid, but I love you. You know that I love you and I would never do something so terrible. I made a mistake a huge mistake, but I promise you that I love you and I won’t let my mistake ruin what we have…” He states as his right hand caresses your cheek as his left encases your waist pulling you into his lean frame, you turn your face away from his as he leans in closer to you.

“How long did you give us then?”

“What?”

“How long did you bet we’d be together?”

Chan smirks at you flirtatiously as he leans in close to your face brushing his lips over yours “I tried to say for the rest of our lives, but Minho talked me down to a year” You blush as he presses his lips against yours softly. “I’m so sorry, I was an ass, and I was so wrong but please…. don’t break up with me, okay? I felt like I couldn’t breathe when I felt like I was losing you. I love you” He pouts as he pulls you into his chest his arms wrapping around you firmly. “You’re still on thin ice…. but I love you too” You scold as out look up at him, pecking his lips softly.

Minho:

You stared out the window watching Minho pace in front of your job for the nth time while he contemplated coming inside. You watch him as he lifts his phone from his side as he begins to type out a message before deciding not to and running his hand through his hair. Your heart ached for him as you noticed the distressed look on his face, but you were much too frustrated with him to have sympathy for him. With a heavy annoyed sigh, you make your way from behind the counter and stride toward your ex. Pushing the front door open you glare at him “At this point, this could be considered stalking….” You scold. Minho’s head perks up as his movement’s halts, the moment he notices you he rushes toward you; his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you against him his legs giving way as he holds onto your waist. His body trembles as you feel your shirt growing wet as loud desperate sobs erupt through his chest as he buries his face in your shirt. “Im sorry, don’t break up with me. Im so sorry” He pleads. You try to shove him off softly.

“No! Please! Im sorry! Im so sorry please”

“Lee Minho, get ahold of yourself.”

 He shakes his head, “No. ill beg and plead and do anything I have to so that you can forgive me, and we can be together. I’ll explain, you’ll be mad for a while but—but…” He stares up at you with a pleading pitiful look “…we can figure it out. We can talk about this; we can work this out. I can fix this; I’ll do anything to fix this s-so please don’t break up with me. Please at least give me a chance to fix this…. I need one chance” You stare at him in disbelief “Why so you can finish your year?” A look of heartbreak forms on his features. “I don’t care about that…Y/N…h-how could you say that? How could you ask me that?” His voice cracks, as more tears form in his eyes as he stares down at his lap. “Y-You must think I’m this disgusting person now…. Fuck!” he cries. “Minho, this is my job. This isn’t the place for this.”

“Where else could I do this? You refused to see me this past week. You won’t answer my calls—you don’t have time for this. Where did you suddenly pull all this free time out your ass? Move on Minho. I found out about your bet to date me” You cut him off harshly. He finally brings himself to his feet, his hands encasing your shoulders. “Does that matter? Like truly?” He asks “Why does it matter? We are together, we care about each other, it doesn’t change the things we’ve been through this year. So why does it matter how we started?”

“Because its all a lie!”

“I have never lied to you!”

“Our entire relationship is a lie!”

Minho freezes as he stares at you with a painful expression “Y-You don’t believe that I care about you? Y/N…. I—you said I was tolerable, and that this year was a breeze because of it” You cut him off. He winces at the mention of his message. “I-I said the wrong thing. T-the guys would know what I meant. I didn’t mean to send you that message, and when I realized I did…. Y/N I promise you I never wanted you to find out this way. I was going to tell you, in person and beg you to understand and forgive me. But my feelings for you are real. I love you and I care about you, and this is fucking breaking me right now. so please, j-just give me another chance to show you that you mean more than anything else in this world to me.” You stand there for a moment as you contemplate, you notice your boss staring at you with a disapproving look from inside. You give a sigh, “This really isn’t the time…. I get out at 8. We can do dinner or something and talk I guess” you state. Minho’s eyes light up as he nods enthusiastically pressing his lips to your cheek. “T-thank you…You wont regret this.”

Changbin:

“Do you not know how to read or something?” You growl as Changbin stood in your private studio. Changbin stared at you with a pout on his lips. “It’s been two weeks Y/N…” You shrug “Wish it had been longer” You state as you shove past him and sit at your desk. “How much longer are you going to punish me? I already apologized. I’ve been calling, texting you. What can I do to get you to talk to me again?” He whimpers as he stares at you sadly. “I don’t want to talk to you. Its that simple, Seo Sunbae-nim.” You state professionally. A look of horror and disbelief paint Changbin’s expression “Don’t—Don’t do that… don’t put distance between us like that.” He pleads. You shake your head “If you’re not here to discuss your next project I’d suggest you leave” You state as you focus on your computer.

“I-Im not leaving. Not until we talk about this.”

“Oomph, seems like you’re going to be moving in here. How fun….”

“Why are you being like this? Why can’t we just talk about this? I already said I’m sorry—yeah, right before you begged me to pretend, I don’t know about the bet so you could win.” You cut him off with a look of disgust on your face. Changbin freezes in his place as he stares at the ground as guilt fills his stomach. “That wasn’t the reason…. I know that I said I needed the money and that it would be doing me a favor but, I was panicking, and I just said whatever came to my mind that I thought would get you to stay with me.” He confesses nervously. “Well, that’s just stupid…” You state as you continue to stare at the computer pulling up a file for a new rookie group you’ve been working with. “If that’s all, can you leave? Im going to be having a session soon.” You state monotonously. Changbin’s eyes well up with tears as he turns your chair around, dropping to his knees he stares up at you with pleading eyes. “Please, please forgive me. I was wrong to make a bet to date you. I would never do anything that terrible again, I would never betray your trust again. I’m so sorry and I really regret making the bet, but I don’t regret dating you. The only good thing to come out of something this stupid is our relationship and how you make me feel. I will do anything to make this better, I can give you time, I can give you space so you can be mad at me all you need. If you want to curse at me in the middle of the night because of the pain I’ve caused you, I’ll answer the call every time. I’ll be your friend if that’s what you want for now, but I need to know that I will have a chance one day to fix this. I can do that; I will do that. I care about you, and yes, this relationship started without me truly feeling for you the way you did for me, but it is the same now. we love each other and I know I can fix this, please give me a chance to. Please, I can be better—I will be better for you. Im so sorry” He begs, a heartbroken expression painted on his features as tears stream down his face. His voice cracked as he spoke, causing the walls you placed around the section of your heart that was filled with Changbin to come crashing down. You stare at him feeling a pitiful guilt at the pain you caused to the man you love.

“B-Binnie…” You whisper naturally. His head perks up as he stares at you hopefully. His hand caresses your cheek. “You don’t understand how sorry I am” he whispers as he leans in slowly, and hesitant. “Sorry can’t fix this…:

“No, but I can’t force you to forgive me and just say yes to staying together when I hurt you. I need you to know how terrible I feel, and I want to turn back time, so I didn’t make the stupid bet.”

“We would have never been together if you didn’t...” You state, Changbin shakes his head in denial “No, we are meant to be together. Even if you don’t forgive me now…. I’ll wait for you because there’s no one else meant for me. Even if I didn’t make that stupid bet, we would have ended up together eventually. You’re meant for me, and I’m meant for you….”

Hyunjin:

You roll your eyes, unamused as you exit your apartment and see Hyunjin standing on your porch as you make your way to your classes. He smiles at you brightly “Hey Babe” choosing to ignore him you brush past him, a monotonous look on your face as you make your way to your car. You resist the urge to look back and see his reaction. HA! Take that ‘Male Lead’ You snort to yourself mentally. Unlocking your car your eyes widen when Hyunjin pulls open the passenger door and takes a seat before you could enter the car. “The audacity…” You whisper under your breath. With a sigh, you open the back door pulling out your bag and opting to walk to the university instead. Shrugging the bag over your shoulder you begin making your way down your driveway. “Y/N, Are you serious right now?” Hyunjin groans in annoyance as he exits the car closing the passenger door behind him before he walks around the car pressing the lock button before closing the door. You continue walking as he rushes from behind you taking a hold of your forearm and halting your movements. “Fuck, don’t do this to me….” He whimpers “Talk to me, look at me, something please…” His voice cracks. You shake your head as you try to pull your arm out of his grasp. His grip grows a little tighter. “I’ll explain. We can talk about this.” He pleads.

You continue staring forward and bite your lip, so you don’t respond. “You’re killing me here…you know that?” He whimpers. “I told you, its just better for you to leave well enough alone….” You state coldly. “And I told you that I’m not giving up on you” Hyunjin counters. You shake your head “I’d rather you did. I won’t be helping you win your bet.” A pained scoff erupts from his throat “Is that why you think I’m here? That stupid fucking bet?!” He growls angrily. You nod, knowing that the bet probably wasn’t the reason, but you allowed the pettiness you felt in the pit in your stomach take over. “You don’t even know what the fucking bet was about!” He shouts angrily.

“Excuse me?”

“You. Don’t. Even. Know. What. The. Bet. Was. About.” He grits. Your eyebrows furrow as anger boils in your stomach “Do I need to? I heard enough. I know you made some bet to date me and would get 500 dollars after a year” You argue. “No. The bet was I would confess to you and prove that I was actually serious about you within a year because I had a habit of developing feelings for any girl that treated me like a fucking person instead of Hwang Hyunjin from Stray Kids. Im not some disgusting prick that would date a girl I have no interest in for fucking pocket change Y/N. it’s not like I need 500 dollars, if you didn’t know Im kinda doing well in my career.” He snaps. “I made the bet to prove to myself and the guys that I was actually serious about you. Was it stupid? Yes, but I won’t let you just sit there and say that I was fucking playing around with you when you’re the first girl I want to be serious with in a very long time.”

You stare at him in disbelief. Words not coming to you as you replay his explanation over and over in your mind. It felt like an eternity before you said anything. “That’s a stupid ass bet if I’m being honest” You state with an annoyed pout. “Oh, you thought I was smart?” Hyunjin jokes as he leans into you pulling you into a back hug as he rests his chin on your shoulder “Can you please give me another chance? I wont ruin this again. I won’t do anything that stupid again.” He pleads softly, you sigh “Please just give me sometime to think about it?” Hyunjin groans “Please? Baby, this is torture…if you weren’t going to forgive me, you wouldn’t be letting me anywhere near you right now.”

“So, you should have your answer then….” You state sarcastically.

“But I’m not sure if you forgave me if you don’t say you do….” He pouts.

You shrug as you pull yourself out of his arms and make your way to your car. “I got a test and I’ll be late, so I have to go.” Hyunjin follows behind you with a kicked puppy expression as you unlock your car once again. “Will I see you after your classes?” He questions sadly. You pull open the driver’s door taking a seat and rolling down the window as the engine roars to life. You wave Hyunjin to lean into your window, he complies with a sad pout. You press your lips to his cheek as you whisper “Depends on your schedule…” His cheeks heat up turning a bright crimson as his hand caresses the cheek you kissed. You wink at him as you reverse out of the driveway.

Taglist: @corrodedthorn n @lovesunshinefelix @lailac13 @moonchildlv @neyangi @hello-stranger24 @tamlinsfiddle @allyrarara @yangbbokari

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby trope Simon Riley / female reader

You’re startled.

He can tell just by the way your eyes pinch at the corners, your shoulders high and tight beneath your ears. You’re flustered, you’re stressed, rubbing small circles on the baby’s back, playing with the hem of the their hat.

Your discomfort, the unease radiating from your frame, combined with the saw blade currently buzzing through his brain, nearly makes him dizzy.

Still, even in this moment, you leave him breathless. He feels the same itch, the same swell of emotion as he looks at you, drinking every single detail in like a starved man.

He tries, and tries to make the connection.

I didn’t know how to contact you.

What does that mean?

It feels monumental, feels like there’s a black hole opening in his stomach, sucking his heart out into the universe to be obliterated.

It’s just there on the cusp, teetering on the edge.

I didn’t know how to contact you.

“I’m uh,” the baby’s tiny arm flings out a little fist towards your chest, and slide your finger into their grip, smoothing your thumb across, what he imagines, is very soft skin. “Do you have a minute?”

He nods wordlessly.

The cafe is quiet.

Simon can’t see the baby’s face. They have your complexion, your hair… but he doesn’t know what they look like. Not really. He doesn’t even know if they’re a boy or a girl.

He doesn’t know anything, and inside this out of control situation, he yearns for it. The plan. The knowledge, the ability to plot and counter plot the next move.

This… instability, this lingering question in the air-

fills him with fear.

An earl grey sits in front of you, spiraled steam curling in the air across the table, where you’re rocking a little bit, side to side, swaying like a sailor.

You worry your lip between your teeth. "I know this is kind of... a shock." He blinks. "I tried to find you, I scoured social media, I went back to the to the pub and asked if anyone knew you, I had them look through all their credit receipts from that night, but... everything was a dead end. It was like you were a ghost." His lips twitch.

"Why?" He thinks he knows, thinks he understands now, but he needs to hear you say it, needs to watch your lips form the words. You stare down at the table before taking a long, deep breath, placing your hand protectively against the back of the baby's head.

"This is your son, Simon."

And there it is.

He's a dad. There's a tiny life, a tiny piece of him, in this world now.

He's a father. A father, to a son, just like his brother was. A father, to a son, like his own father was, and his father before that. A vicious, endless cycle. One his brother vowed to break, and did.

One that terrifies Simon now.

The first words out of his mouth are unintentional, and cruel. "Are you sure?" He winces as soon as it splays out in the silence, and you wilt into a shade of embarrassment.

"I uh, yeah. I'm sure. The pill isn't foolproof and we weren't exactly... careful. I... um... there's no one else." You grimace, averting your eyes, and his stomach clenches.

"I didn't mean-"

"It's fine." You wave it off, keeping him at arms length. You keep your gaze down, and he curses himself. Making a mess of it already.

He's very good at compartmentalizing. It comes with the job, always has, but in this moment, he's struggling to stopgap the flow of consciousness that seems to be melding together by the minute. Worry, panic, fear all roar at the forefront, but beneath them, buried by mountains of darkness- shines something unexpected.

Happiness. Hope.

A baby.

Something possessive thrums inside him, beats in the veins of his heart. It's reverent, identical to way he felt the first night he met you, the night the two of you made him. Together.

You had his baby. You did. The girl who was everything. The sweet girl who took him like you were made for him.

No matter what happens, no matter where you go, he'll always be the man who gave you a baby. Who gave you his son.

It's sick, how pleased he feels. How satisfied. Something long buried in the genetics of human beings, now rearing its head inside his own.

You were everything, and now- you always will be.

His throat is suddenly very tight, nose stinging with effort to allay his emotions. "What's his name?"

"Orion." You smile, timidly, but tears shine in your eyes. "I really like stars. I used to tell him all about the constellations when I was pregnant. I call him Ry for short." Orion.

"I like it." He tells you gently, and you smile again, more confident.

"I'm glad." He studies you. You're beautiful, possibly even more so now, but there's a thread of exhaustion pulling across your face, like you haven't slept in a year.

A new realization settles in his bones like a chill, and his stomach pitches. He thinks he might sick.

You said there's been no one else, so you've been alone? Did you do this on your own? Do you have family, friends? Anyone to help you?

He's no fool. He watched Beth go through it all, struggle through it all, even when she had support.

And he was the asshole that walked out of your life that morning, not caring for the consequences. Not caring for you.

He missed it. He missed all of it.

"I'm sorry I left that morning without... saying anything. I'm sorry I wasn't here. I'd take it back if I could." Your lips part in surprise, and then you nod.

"I- thank you." The baby fusses, tiny cry sounding from your chest, and you fidget with the carrier, pulling him free. "Do you want to hold him?"

Orion fits against his chest perfectly. It's like he was always meant to be there, nestled on top of his forearm, staring up at his dad. Simon is painfully and hyper aware of the little activity in the cafe, the people coming and going, but it does nothing to stop the tears that wet his cheeks.

"You're a natural." You whisper from your new seat next to him, hand smoothing over the back of the baby's head. "I knew he had your eyes, I remembered them so clearly. When he was born, it felt like I was looking into them all over again."

There are a million things he needs to say, to explain, and a million questions he needs to ask. Already the clock is ticking down to the time that he'll need to report on base. Already, the curtain is closing on this tiny piece of heaven he's found himself inside. He needs to tell you, have a frank conversation with you about his job, his life, everything.

But when he looks down at Orion, slowly falling asleep in his arms, and then looks up at you, he decides everything can wait.

The world looks different now, and he's never been more grateful-

and terrified.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

THE THINGS YOU DO FOR LOVE... ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; satoru begs you to wear the frilly maid dress he bought. against your better judgement, you indulge him.

word count; 7.0k (this was supposed to be short but i miss him terribly)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly sweet, literally just satoru being down horrendous, lots and lots of petnames (he is embarrassing), he’s ur biggest hypeman, entirely sfw!! (i feel like i have to specify that…), reader is a lil grumpy, satoru gojo is the most insufferable man on earth <3

a/n; this is just a silly lil wip i found in my drafts…. i dont remember what possessed me to write this i just think satoru would cry and fall to his knees and throw up blood if he saw u in a frilly dress

”— no.”

the word rolls off your tongue, instantaneous, with a decisive kind of sterness. leaving no room for hesitation, doubt or indecision; not a single gap for his argument to fit through, no loophole he could take advantage of to persuade you into giving in.

but despite all that, satoru just won’t back down.

”come on, baby, please?” he pleads, voice coaxing and sugary sweet. you can almost see those puppy dog eyes of his from behind the black glass of his shades. ”i already bought it and everything!”

”i don’t care,” you spit. a halfhearted attempt at appearing annoyed, in hopes it’ll distract him from the strawberry flush of your cheeks. ”i’m not wearing it. you shouldn’t have bought it, in the first place.”

”but sweetheart,” he drawls, tinged with a sadness he knows tugs at your heartstrings. ”it’s so cute. you’ll look so adorable.”

”not happening.”

”but —”

”— no. i’m seriously not wearing it, satoru.”

it’s harsh, the flow of your words, sharp and firm; but that’s your only option when he gets like this. your only slim chance at survival, being almost painfully direct. that doesn’t stop your resolve from weakening pitifully when satoru’s posture wilts, though, obviously exaggerated but still somehow effective. you debase yourself for being so weak for him. 

but giving in just isn’t an option, this time. 

under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t take too long for him to persuade you. satoru can be annoying, extremely so — but when he’s being so stubborn about something, there’s usually a good reason for it, even if it’s just that whatever he wants you to do will make him happy. to you, it’ll do.

(his happiness is your priority, after all.)

but in this case, there’s just no way. absolutely no way in hell.

he’s still holding that thing up, like he genuinely thinks it’ll support his argument, swaying it lightly side to side. it really, really doesn’t. it does the complete opposite, in fact.

”but angel,” he tries, again. you wonder if he’s eventually going to run out of petnames, or if he’ll just keep cycling through them until he runs out of air to breathe. ”don’t you wanna see how it’ll look on you?”

a sharp scoff flows from your lips. 

he can’t be serious. 

you really, really, really don’t. if anything, you want everything in the world except for that. you’d rather smash a glass bottle into little pieces and eat them one by one. you’d rather sit on satoru’s lap in a room full of other people. you’d rather jump in front of a moving train with explosives tied to your back.

— it’s so frilly. 

you almost couldn’t believe it, yourself. when he barged into the room, cardboard box in hand, fresh from the mail; all while wearing an excited grin, foreboding, but you were too mesmerized by it to even notice. 

it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, so you didn’t think much of it. satoru buying you gifts is not in any way unusual, even and especially if you tell him not to — and usually, it’d be a sweet occasion. the kind of moment you can soak in, drink up, and then recall fondly for the rest of the week. 

every single detail is worth cherishing. how excitedly he always opens it up, eager for your reaction, and how you always thank him, no matter what it is. sincerely, because satoru can be awkward with his affection, but his love bleeds through in moments like these.

from expensive, well-kept bouquets to little flowers on the side of the road; from thought-out gifts to little trinkets; no matter what it is, the sentiment remains the same.

(this made me think of you. i want you to have it. 

i remembered you mentioning this brand. i love you.)

a way for satoru to show his love, without overwhelming himself or you. a way of easing him into it, when everything is still just so new to him. 

buying you whatever catches his eye is the perfect solution, according to satoru. and it exasperates you, sometimes, when you come home to five amazon packages right outside your doorstep — but deep down you know it’s more for him than you. because it makes him happy, to be able to, allowed to show his love for you in ways like this. in normal ways, easy ways, that say more than his words ever could. 

(being granted the luxury of making you happy. of loving you, even if satoru doesn’t think he’s very good at that, just yet. but he is good at impulse buying things he knows you’d like; so that’ll have to do, for now.)

which is why you couldn’t help but let his infectious joy seep into your bloodstream, trickling its way through your veins with a sweet kind of fervour. couldn’t help but smile, a tender curl of your lips, in tandem with his cute little grin. couldn’t help but grow a little bit excited, as he opened the package — 

to reveal a cutesy, frilly, maid outfit.

— and then your mind screeched to a halt. 

the look on your face must have been something special, horrified and flustered in equal measure. almost in disbelief, as he immediately began to gush about the outfit in his hands. look at the bows, isn’t it cute? god, you’re going to look so pretty. i mean, you always do, obviously, but —

you weren’t really listening. all your mind could do was spin in circles, trying to get some read on the situation, but it was just no good. he genuinely, thoroughly, truly and sincerely expected you to put on a goddamn maid outfit. 

if he had bought it for himself, then maybe you would've been at least a little bit excited. you’re sure he'd look good in it; with those big blue eyes of his, that cute, happy grin. so good that your heart would probably combust, a little. melt through the floorboards. 

but no — he wanted you to wear it. 

and despite your instant, firm protests, he just will not give it up. your boyfriend is a stubborn man, so it’s no surprise, but it’s still enough to irk you.

”satoru, for real. no! i’m not wearing it!”

”but you’d look so good,” he whines, loud and grating as he inches closer to you. still holding the dress up like a prize; you back away, instinctively, like it’ll burn if you touch it.

”i don’t care! it’s a maid outfit! why the hell would i ever wear it?” 

sunglasses seated at the bridge of his nose, satoru allows you to catch a glimmer of his eyes — an effective method of persuasion. he definitely knows their power, and he’s definitely flaunting them for the sole purpose of making you falter. that manipulative scumbag.

the fact that it actually works makes you even angrier, though.

a sharp turn of your head, and your gaze falls on the windowpane, lingering there as you grumble under your breath. he’s so annoying. you’re growing more and more flustered by the minute, too. 

”— because you love me?” 

satoru tilts his head, white locks of hair following the movement. soft and silky, nice to run your fingers through, but you chase the thought away as soon as it enters your subconscious. he looks almost hypnotizing under the sunlight, with the golden rays illuminating his features, smoothing over the contours of his face — as if the sun was made solely to shine on his skin.

and ah, you think, there we go. satoru’s classic tactic; using your love for him as a bargaining chip, pouting down at you like a kicked puppy. you like to picture his eyes all watery and glassy, everytime he tries it, as if he’s some rejected cartoon-mascot. so silly. 

valiantly, you fight off the temptation to smile, gracing him with another little scoff instead. shooting him an unimpressed look, a tiny raise of your eyebrow. ”that won’t work on me.”

”aww, come on,” he almost coos, inching closer still. ”don’t you love me? my sweetiepie? my cute lil’ mochi?” 

(he’s getting bolder with the petnames, you note. as if that’d change anything. they’re so cheesy it makes you recoil.)

”obviously.” you deadpan, trying your best not to let affection seep into the words. but you see satoru’s lips curl up, anyway. ”i’m still not wearing it, though. sorry.”

satoru sighs. heavy, exasperated — dare you say defeated? for a second, you delude yourself into thinking he might actually give in, for once, spare you both the trouble — 

until he falls to the floor, knees hitting the soft flooring with a loud thud. awfully dramatic. he clasps his hands together as if to beg and plead, a starved dog at your feet, and gazes up at you with newfound determination.

”please, baby — i’m begging you,” he groans, voice sad and pained, agonized, like you just threatened to break up with him. silly, silly man.

”don’t grovel.” a sigh drops from your lips as the pads of your fingers go to massage your temples. soothing what you’re almost sure is an incoming headache.

and he makes a certain noise, almost a whimper, like you just kicked him in the gut. you glance down at him as if to signal really? with your eyes, lips parting to speak — 

but your breath only hitches in your throat, and no sound comes out.

satoru’s eyes are almost teary. peeking out from behind his shades, big and glassy, eyelashes dewy with what you know are just crocodile tears. he’s far too skilled at it for his own good, though — maybe you should be supporting his acting career, instead of the weird teacher-slash-sorcerer thing he’s got going on.

and you’re weak, you realize, terribly so. because something deep within your chest constricts, at those sad eyes, heart squeezed painfully, and when you speak you note that your voice sounds a lot softer. 

”satoru,” you sigh, again; more resigned this time, a little fatigued. missing the way his eyes glint at the sound, as if sensing an opportunity. ”really. i’m sorry i wasted your money, but it’s just… not happening. okay?” 

attempting to sound delicate, your voice settles on a soothing tilt, like an adult speaking to a tantrum-throwing child. hoping it’ll be enough to make him falter even slightly. 

it isn’t, of course; if anything, his determination only grows. 

”even just for a short while?” he tries, voice sweet and pliant. all daisies and sunbeams, tailormade to tug at your heartstrings. ”just an hour or so! then i’ll be satisfied.”

”an hour? no way!” you scoff.

and this time, you don’t miss it. from behind those shades, a certain glimmer of something flickers through his irises — something keen and observant. a certain dread crawls its way down your spine.

”so it’s fine if it’s less?” he grins, changing tactics, smooth and decisive. ”half an hour. that’s as low as i’ll go.”

”oh my god.” an exhale, drawn out and exhausted, from the very depths of your chest. ”satoru. toru. no. i’m not wearing it at all. this isn’t an auction.”

”but it could be,” he purrs, still on his knees. it makes him look a little bit disturbed. ”c’mon. why are you getting so shy? guess what — i’ll even settle for twenty minutes. just for you.”

oh, he’s just awful. you want so badly to be mad at him, and that teasing, smug, shit-eating little smirk of his — but you can’t. 

not when he looks so effortlessly pretty, bathed in the light of the sun, surrounded by a mellow glow so tender it makes him look something like an angel. not when he’s acting so characteristically himself, so stubborn and infuriating and entirely impossible not to love. 

another sigh. you’re a little surprised you have enough air left in your lungs to breathe it out, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re beginning to grow just a bit tired of the back and forth. ”i’m not shy,” you huff. ”i just don’t want to. it won’t look good on me, anyway.”

satoru blinks. genuine surprise shines in his eyes, for a second, like you caught him off guard. ”huh? of course it will. why wouldn’t it?”

a pause. gnawing at your bottom lip, you avert your gaze, trying to find the words. ”it’s just… tacky,” you settle on. ”it’ll look weird.”

”it won’t! you’ll look so cute!”

another huff, as your dispassionate, bored gaze meets his. ”and how do you know that?”

satoru's answer is instantaneous. ”you always look cute. just wanna see how you look in this,” he chirps, brandishing the outfit with barely contained excitement. thoroughly giddy. ”when i saw it, i knew it’d look adorable on you. and i’m never wrong!”

a soft pout plays at your lips, in the wake of his eager sincerity. barely noticeable, just a little embarrassed, but it’s there. and satoru’s seen it, finally — the road to victory. he knows he can win this, if he’s smart about it.

”i just wanna see you in it. just for a second. please? pretty please?” he tilts his head, tantalizing, showing off the blue of his eyes and the curl of his lips. ”then i’ll never ask you for anything again. promise!”

”okay, that’s a lie and we both know it.”

the grin that blooms on your lips is a mistake, you quickly realize, because satoru interprets any sign of joy on your face as positive approval. his determination grows.

”yeah, yeah… but i mean it! i won’t bother you if you just wear it once. just once!” he puts a single finger up, to emphasize the point. ”just wanna see my precious baby all frilly and cute. won’t you indulge me, oh my dearest?”

he’s grinning, now, all soft and teasing. it’s more breathtaking than he’ll ever understand. he’ll never even come close to understanding how gorgeous he is, like this — when there’s no one around to perform for, when he can just be himself. when it’s just you, and satoru, and the feeling of having all the time in the world.

(even if you don’t.)

and you know your face must be flushed, a soft cherry red, as your gaze falls to the floor. the heat on your cheeks and neck, the pitter patter of your heartbeat; you feel it all. 

and it’s embarrassing, to find yourself so fervently twisted around someone’s finger — to find that you don’t even really mind. being wrapped around satoru’s finger isn’t so awful, all things considered. it’s a scary thought, for sure, but he’d never abuse the privilege. probably.

— a sigh. 

you still don’t want to wear it. you really don’t. it’s just awful. tacky, and embarrassing, and overall unpleasant. 

… but if it’ll get him to stop nagging you like this… 

and if it’s just for a short while…

silence, only silence, spilling into the sunkissed air. outside your apartment, the sky melts into a buttery orange hue. an intense contemplation is etched into your eyes, and satoru takes note of it; opting to put the final nail in the coffin. his very last bid.

”fifteen minutes. then you’re —”

”ten minutes,” you cut him off. sounding just a tad exhausted — resigned to your fate. 

and satoru doesn’t even bother trying to hide his excitement. suddenly beaming, he shoots up to his feet, and it causes you to jolt. ”perfect,” he grins, holding the dress out toward you. a little too eager for your liking.

”— but seriously. i’m only wearing it once. never again,” you tilt your head. ”got it?” satoru just nods, happily, so excited he’s practically jumping up and down — and despite everything, you still can’t find it in you to be angry. 

he looks so earnestly giddy.

eyes brimming with suspicion and weariness, your hands reach out to take it into your arms; the puffy dress, the frilly headwear, and the black thigh highs. you’re surprised he didn’t invest in a pair of shoes, while he was at it. just to complete the set.

(you decide not to comment on it, knowing he’d have some poor, overworked shoemaker on the phone within seconds.)

”need my help putting it on?” he purrs, face suddenly very close to yours — and the sudden stutter of your heartbeat sparks a hitch of your throat. desperate to cover it up, you shoot him a hefty glare.

”oh, shut up,” you hiss, but satoru only grins wider. soft little giggles flowing from his lips, like a schoolgirl teasing her upperclassman. silly.

a heavy hesitance rests on your features, as you give the outfit another chance. judgemental eyes trailing over the bows and frills, giving it a thorough look, until your lips curl down into a soft frown. it’s not that bad, but…

”it’s kinda ugly,” you lie, decisively.

”really? i think it’s cute, though.” 

”yeah, ’cause you have no taste.” a click of your tongue. ”what’s so great about maid outfits, anyway? i don’t see the appeal.”

satoru smiles. carefree, amused — still very much teasing. ”well, we’re about to find out,” he chirps.

you give him a look, eventually giving way to a soft exhale. ”fine — but only ten minutes. at most.” a pause, as you stop to think. what else? ”oh, and no taking pictures.”

”— i’m taking pictures.”

…

the exasperated look you send his way doesn’t seem to phase satoru even in the slightest. he continues to smile at you, unbothered, soft around the edges, and you know you’re not winning this one either.

”… fine,” you sigh. ”but — not too many, okay? and you aren’t allowed to show anyone, either.”

”of course not,” he scoffs, almost offended. ”as if i’d let anyone else see you like that.”

stuck between feeling relieved and put off, you settle on simply letting it go. and satoru continues to speak, reassuringly, glossy lips shining in the sunlight as they part.

”rest assured, baby,” he hums, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. ”this stays between us. i swear on my honour.”

you snort. ”like you’ve got any of that.”

”mean. anyway — c’mon. i can’t wait any longer.” before you can think to protest, he’s ushering you away in the direction of the bathroom, big hands heavy on your shoulders as they push you. still hesitant, you make no move to resist.

(what have you gotten yourself into?)

with one final sigh, your fingers curl around the doorknob, outfit hanging off your arm. not before sending one final glance back at satoru, reinstating your conditions. ”just this once. then you’re selling it. or burning it.”

”yes, yes — you have my word,” he promises. before you can narrow your eyes, he pushes you forward, gently; bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. ”go on, i’m waiting!”

”yeah, yeah…”

the door closes behind you with a soft thud, and the reality of the situation begins to finally dawn on you. the maid outfit weighs heavy on your heart, but light in your arms — you gaze down at it with pure contempt. it’s not like you have a choice, though. satoru won’t let you wriggle away from this one. and maybe, just maybe, a part of you wants to indulge him, after all.

(his smile shone so brightly, in the light of the sun.)

and it’s almost cautious, the way you begin to dress yourself; first the thigh highs, black and silky, then the outfit itself. pulling it over your head, your arms sneaking through the openings. 

it’s a perfect fit. 

a second passes. you stop to think, brows furrowing in suspicion — did the little bastard measure you? just to make sure he got it exactly right? he has been rummaging through your closet more than usual, recently, but you didn’t think much of it. over the years, you’ve conditioned yourself not to question the things that he does. that sneaky, sneaky man.

after putting on the headwear, you finally lift your gaze, tentative and slow — to take a peek at your own reflection. the flush on your face stands out, a contrast to the black and white colour scheme of the outfit. 

and you can’t help but exhale, a little exasperated.

it’s so… frilly. there are frills on the sleeves, on the shoulderpads, on the skirt, on the hems… everywhere. little bows litter the surface of the smooth fabric, a big one attached to the collar, and several smaller ones across the sleeves. 

and as much as you loath to admit it — it is kind of cute. 

still, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re only embarrassing yourself. it’s hard not to think, when a maid outfit is staring into your soul through the mirror — and you just so happen to be wearing it.

(what the hell are you even doing?)

a low groan slips from your lips, and you crouch down, to bury your face in your knees. the flush of your cheeks is beginning to spread towards the tips of your ears, growing hotter by the minute. satoru’s about to see you like this, of all people. how on earth will he react?

(what if he thinks it looks weird, too?) 

”i’m still waiting!” a voice suddenly exclaims, sing-songy and sweet, and closer than you realized. has he just been standing there and waiting in silence, this whole time? of course he has.

”just —” you croak out, words a little strangled. ”just… give me a minute.”

satoru lets out a high-pitched whine, cheek pressed against the cold wood of the door. ”but i’ve been waiting so long already!” he complains, pouting, the urge to see you growing unbearable. impatience tugging at his heart, so excited he can barely pull himself together.

(all he can think of is you, you, you.)

curling up into a little ball, you attempt to swallow the bundle of nerves in the back of your throat — but that jittery, feather-light feeling of your heartbeat just won’t go away. it makes you feel a little paralyzed.

you're actually, genuinely, sincerely about to go show off a goddamn maid outfit. what the hell.

when you finally grasp control over your vocal cords and part your lips to speak, the voice that spills out into the air sounds more than a little meek. but you can’t quite bring yourself to care, overcome by a heart-tingling nervosity and the heat of your skin.

 ”… i don’t want to.”

satoru pauses. 

he can picture you, in his mind’s eye; the way you must look, right now. clad in frills and a cute little skirt, face flushed red and embarrassed, as you shift from foot to foot. and it takes concentrated effort, to bite back the coo that threatens to crawl up his throat — but he knows it’s still not too late for you to change your mind. if he wants to see you, he needs to be careful. so he tactfully opts not to tease you.

”come on, angel,” he soothes, instead. voice smooth like honey, like coffee with cream and too much sweetener. ”don’t be embarrassed.”

you stay silent, still attempting to suffocate the tinge of humiliation in the depths of your chest. so satoru continues. ”just come on out, hm? might as well get it over with. then you won’t have to think of it again.”

a moment passes.

”… do i have to?”

the corners of his lips curl up.

ah, you’re so cute. all embarrassed, almost childish, in the way you’re still trying to be difficult; and satoru just indulges you, all too eager to get you to show yourself to him. ”yes, you do,” he coos. ”be good f' me and come on out, okay?”

a couple moments pass. eerily silent, growing second by second. the only sound that fills the air is that of satoru’s soft breathing, the distant whirring of the ceiling fan.

until finally, he hears the squeak of the bathroom floor. you stand up, turning to glance at your reflection in the mirror one last time, before hesitantly reaching for the doorknob.

it’s slow, the way you open the door, agonizingly so — pushing at it slightly and dragging the movement out. and you can feel satoru’s presence, right behind it, as he takes a step back to give you space. when you finally step over the threshold, you adamantly refuse to meet his gaze.

(satoru’s breath hitches in his throat.)

there you stand, gaze stubbornly averted, expression flustered and mildly annoyed. cheeks dusted a dark cherry-red, that crawls towards the tips of your ears as you fidget with your frilly, oversized sleeves. they’re dressed in little bows, awfully cute, and so is the skirt — short, but not enough to expose the skin of your thighs above the thigh highs. you still squirm a little, thighs pressed together. 

and then, of course, the big bow on your collar to complete the look. pink in colour, a stark contrast to the whites and blacks of the remaining outfit.

after a moment passes with nothing but pure silence, your lips part to speak. doing anything you can to stop yourself from looking over at the man in front of you, afraid of what you’ll see. ”i don’t think it suits me,” is muttered, a tiny huff. ”… and i still don’t see the appeal, by the way.”

— but satoru doesn’t answer. 

he just stares. uncharacteristically silent, in a way you’re wholly unaccustomed to. enough so that you find yourself gnawing at your bottom lip, fidgeting with the hem of the skirt, hoping the smooth texture will soothe your nerves a little. the beating of your heart resounds in your ears, sending blood flowing through your veins with excited pumps.

the silence festers, and all you can do is let it grow, your nervosity thickening with it — until it’s just too much to bear. 

(ahh, you knew it. it really does look weird, doesn’t it? that’s to be expected. 

still, you can’t help but feel just slightly dejected.) 

”… why aren’t you saying anything?” 

the little mumble comes out sounding embarrassed, and maybe just a little defeated, too. but satoru doesn’t hear it. as your gaze falls on the man in question, slowly, you take in his expression with a frown on your face — and realize that he isn’t just keeping quiet. 

he’s completely stunned. 

no matter how hard you stare, you can’t seem to get a good read on his expression. he’s just standing there, face completely blank, eyes entirely obscured by the black of his shades. the light streaming in through the glass of the windows has shifted its course, falling away from the two of you — but you still see the vague, red tinge crawling up his neck. 

and as soon as you spot it, satoru begins his descent.

crouching down to the floor, silently, he brings his hands up to cover his face. feet against the ground with his knees folded, pressed against his chest, stilling as he inhales sharply. shades seated on top of his head, pushed up by his hands when he buried his face in them. a groan drops from his lips, muffled by the skin of his palms — but you can hear it clear as day.

”hold on, just… give me a minute…” he finally croaks out, words somehow tiny. almost shy. 

upon closer inspection, you realize your eyes weren’t deceiving you — there really is a red hue to his neck, one you aren’t used to seeing on him. strawberry-tinged dust, staining his smooth skin, the tips of his burning ears. satoru actually looks flustered, for once. and your heart can’t help but flutter.

— he thinks he might actually, genuinely die.

it’s a wonder, he thinks, that he managed not to fall to his knees the very moment he laid eyes on you. all dolled up; frilly and cute, in his own words, though they don’t come even close to properly describing how adorable you look right now. with your flushed face, shy eyes, and all those little frills and bows adorning your dress. rendering him speechless, clogging up his throat with pure unbridled love. a mouthful of honey, too sweet for even him to swallow.

god. god. he really, really needs to pull himself together.

crouched down like this, face hidden behind his hands, he can physically feel himself grow more and more flustered. senses invaded by the sound of his heartbeat, deep and visceral, until it’s all he can hear — he knew you were going to look cute, obviously, but he was seriously underestimating you. your cuteness is lethal. 

even just the sight makes him weak in the knees. even just the thought of you makes him feel a little like his heart is attempting to break out of his chest. hurling itself at his ribcage with ferocious resolve, like he could keel over and die of heart failure at any given moment. he’s pleasantly surprised that he’s managed to suppress the loud squeal his body keeps trying to let out, honestly.

and while satoru struggles with his deep, internal turmoil, all you can do is watch. looking down at him with wide eyes, as his skin flushes a bright pink, like little chrysanthemums blooming from his neck up to his ears. 

yeah, you think, there’s no doubt about it. satoru is flustered. it’s not a side of him you get to see very often, so you can’t help but be just slightly caught off guard. staring at him silently, until you snap out of it, eyes simmering with something soft and delighted.

he’s so cute.

(and maybe, just maybe — it makes you want to tease him, a little bit.)

so you crouch down, facing him with your knees against your chest, jaw resting on your crossed forearms as you gaze at him. he’s still not looking at you, face hidden behind his palms, shying away from your view.

and then you sigh. the sound catches his attention, soft — and just a little bit dejected.

”… you’re the one who wanted me to wear it,” your lips curl down into a pout, ”and now you won’t even look at me?”

satoru stiffens. 

(you sound sad. you sound disappointed.)

slowly, he parts his fingers, desperate to soothe you — blue eyes peeking out through the gaps, as if the sight of you could blind him. he then proceeds to move his hands, tentative, laboured, like he’s dragging heavy weights off his body. like it’s a struggle. 

with his face finally exposed, all flushed and pretty, bright azure eyes stare at you; brimming with pure adoration. 

satoru exhales, almost shaky. he has to take another moment to simply look at you, as if drinking in every inch of your expression. memorizing every corner of the face he’s grown to love so much.

a moment passes. then two.

then, he practically pounces on you — engulfing you like a tidal wave, trapping you in his big arms as they go to curl around your waist. shades falling off at the impact, hitting the floor with a soft thunk.

”you’re killing me,” he whines, loud and right by your ear. nuzzling into you, squeezing you like he’s a puppy with a chew toy. ”you’re so, so, so cute. d’you want me to have a heart attack?”

a hitch of your breath. that’s all you can manage, utterly failing to keep up with him as he presses you up against his chest. rocking you back and forth in his embrace, smearing open mouthed kisses across your skin; whining and murmuring about how adorable you look. 

a flurry of warmth, of love, of something a little too precious for words. something distinctly satoru, that makes you forget about everything else — as if the world stops spinning somewhere outside of his arms. as if that’s where you belong.

all you can do is indulge him. maybe you’re spoiling him a little too much, but it feels nice; letting him drown you in his overwhelming affection. the thought of creasing the dress doesn’t even seem to cross his mind, as he squeezes the life out of you.

evidently, satoru suffers from an acute case of cuteness aggression. 

”so adorable,” he murmurs, leaving wet kisses on your cheeks. his exaggerated mwahs make you feel just a tad shy. ”my little sweetheart. all dressed up for me.” 

squirming in his hold, he only brings you closer, smothering you in his warm embrace. the slightly erratic beating of his heart is all you can hear, with your cheek squished against his chest. arms keeping you nice and still, lips lingering over that one ticklish spot behind your ear. 

a little giggle slips from your lips, and satoru feels himself smile; wide and giddy, boyish and adoring. nuzzling into the comfort of your chest, soft fabric brushing against his skin, a low whine escapes his throat. ”can't take it. wanna put you in my pocket.”

”your pocket?” a grin blooms on your lips, words dripping with honeyed amusement. satoru grins right back.

”my pocket,” he hums, approvingly. ”you’re just so cute and small. gotta keep you close, so i don’t lose you.”

a huff, lighthearted. 

suddenly, the grip around your midriff tightens — and you’re hoisted up, stumbling a little as satoru lets go of you. still holding onto you by your wrists, softly, delicately, as if you’re made of glass. when you lift your head, all you can see is his satisfied little grin, and the twinkle of his eyes.

your heart flutters. 

satoru gazes at you, silently, still drinking you in. every second spent staring into the brightness of your eyes fills his heart up just a little more; colourful, heart-shaped candies, scooped up and poured into the hole in his chest. patching it right back up, so effortlessly sweet that it makes him want to pluck every star from the sky and offer them at your feet. 

”alright,” he breathes, taking a step back. breaking the delicate silence, a little dance between him and time. fingers still curled around your wrist. ”do a twirl for me.”

a humoured scoff. ”hell no.”

”aw, come on! you gotta pose for the photo, baby.”

before you know it, satoru’s got his phone out — and it’s aimed right at you. by the time you notice it, you’re fairly certain he’s already managed to snap a couple pictures. so all you can do is sigh, in faux exasperation.

”c’mon, c’mon,” he coos. ”give me a smile, pretty.”

a roll of your eyes, as you bite your lip to muffle a soft bout of laughter. it doesn’t really work. ”i’m good.”

satoru seems unaffected by your words, pulling back from your touch reluctantly; just so he can make a show out of playing the cameraman, switching between elaborate positions and taking pictures from angle after angle. somehow, you get the feeling he’s forgotten your request to keep the pictures to a minimum.

(he looks like he’s having fun, though. so you let it slide. just this once.)

”god. you’re way too cute for your own good, you know that?” he murmurs, leaning down to take another picture. and it flusters you, how smoothly the words slip from his lips, how it seems like he barely even has to think about them at all. 

it’s a little embarrassing, in a heart-fluttering kind of way. but you do your best to hide it.

”you’re a sap,” is all you say, soft smile playing at your lips. 

”and you’re adorable,” satoru grins. 

then he slips his phone into his back pocket, satisfied with the collection, and grabs your hand.

his fingers curl around yours, softly — and then he lifts it up. bringing it to his lips. they’re warm, as he kisses across your knuckles, the tips of your fingers. soft as a feather, tickling your skin. 

(as if he’s whispering psalms under his breath. as if he’s worshipping you.)

then he tilts his head, eyes gazing at you sweetly. sweeter than fresh mandarin slices, splotches of marmalade, his favorite caramel fudge. and his eyes crinkle, crow’s feet and dimples peeking out as he smiles, an easygoing kind of joy blooming on that pretty face of his — youthful, boyish. it suits him more than anything.

his voice comes out smooth, awfully coaxing. so very easy to give in to, paired with that breathtaking grin. 

”one tiny twirl?” he asks, politely.

he’s so annoying. 

(but you’re far too in love to say no.)

so with a single roll of your eyes, and a soft little scoff, you relent. indulging him once more, just one more time. just one little twirl.

satoru feels his heart squeeze painfully, deep within his chest, as he watches you spin around. skirt and frills ruffled by the movement. just once, a soft little twirl with your fingers intertwined. far too precious for his heart to take.

when you stop, just a tiny bit dizzy, he leans in, and the kiss he leaves on your forehead is soft. chaste, but it still pulls a blissful sigh from the back of your throat. satoru’s lips curl up against your skin, before he pulls back — eyes almost overflowing with affection.

”cutie.”

you blink. 

averting your gaze, flustering a little under the weight of his love-filled eyes, all you can do is emit a soft little huff. embarrassed, as it flows from your lips. but it only makes satoru’s smile grow further.

”okay, okay. you’ve had your fun.” you clear your throat. ”time’s up.”

suddenly, satoru’s eyes fill with something akin to dread — nose crinkling, just barely, a sign of his displeasure. ”noooo,” he whines, draping his arms around you. tugging you close. ”just a little more? please? pretty please?”

”nope! we said ten minutes. no take backs.”

”can’t i have an extension? since i’m your favorite?” satoru pouts, puppy dog eyes in full force. only this time, they don’t work as well as he’d hoped.

”nope,” you repeat, popping the p. ”sorry.” another whine buzzes right by your ear, and you smile. 

”and then we’re burning it.”

”noooo!” 

”sorry, but it’s gotta go.” you bite back a soft grin. satoru sounds agonized, voice dripping with grief, and it makes your heart dance with barely contained laughter.

”but then you can’t wear it anymore, baby…”

”that’s kinda the point, toru.”

”but you’re so cute in it,” he pouts, bringing you closer still. squeezing at your waist and rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. ”it’d be such a waste if you never wore it again, don’tcha think?”

he’s trying his best, you can tell — attempting to make you falter, coax you into wearing it just a little longer. but for today, you’re done indulging him.

”well, too bad.” nuzzling into his neck, your tone settles on a firm tilt; decisive, as you nip at his skin. just a little teasing. ”i said i’d never wear it again, and i meant it.”

a moment passes. maybe it’s the warmth of your lips on his skin, or maybe he can tell you aren’t budging — whatever the case, satoru finally seems to relent. an exhale tumbles from his tongue, deep and drawn out. ”fineee,” he drawls. ”i’ll just buy you a new one.”

”i won’t wear it. i’ll just get angry.”

”at lil’ old me? really?”

”really really,” you click your tongue. ”if you love maid outfits so much, why don’t you wear one yourself?” a beat. ”it’d look good on you.”

satoru perks up, suddenly. pulling away so his eyes can meet yours, bright and teasing, glazed over with something excited. ”oh?” he purrs. ”you wanna see me in one, huh? so bold, baby.”

a scoff slips from your lips, sharp but tinged with laughter. ”well, it’s only fair, right?” grinning up at him, your hand reaches out to smooth away his bangs. fingertips trailing across the expanse of skin, touch so very tender that his eyes flutter shut. ”i think you’d pull it off better than i ever could, anyway.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, seconds ticking by slowly; a dance with him and time. an attempt to prolong the softness of the moment.

”hmm… well, i’ll consider it.” just barely holding back a smile, he leans into your touch. ”you gotta wear it with me, though. we can buy a matching set!”

”that makes no sense,” you huff, with a raise of your brow. ”i’ve already worn it once, so next time, it’s gotta be all you.”

”sorry, baby, but you need to do it too.” he cradles you close, smoothing a palm down your spine, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. chest rumbling with the smooth timbre of his voice, words rich with teasing fondness. ”i’m too shy to do it by myself.”

and you really, really wish you could be angry with him — but it’s just impossible. 

satoru is just way too lovable, smile far too sunny and warm for you not to melt under. and his caress says more than words ever could, light and doting, careful and loving; like how a believer cups a handful of holy water. as if you could slip from his grasp at any moment, so he has to keep you extra close.

in the end, all protests and complaints die on your tongue. you only laugh, soft and breathy, filling the air with a fondness so palpable you can almost taste it. bordering on something close to a scoff, but never quite getting there. 

eventually, satoru does — begrudgingly — let you change out of the outfit. whining a little, sulking a tad, before brightening right back up again. like clockwork, the sun peeking out after a rain shower, the calm after the storm. always that same happy smile, wrapping you around his little finger.

satoru, in all his glory; your very own pocket of sunshine. annoying, stubborn, thoughtful — 

and yours, wholly and thoroughly.

(while you’re busy gazing at him adoringly, satoru grumbles under his breath. contemplation painted on his features, as his mind spins in circles. frills, bows, lace…

what kind of design would make him look the prettiest for you?)

[simonbrain]

simon fucks up every good thing he manages to sink his teeth into because that's just who he is. he's haunted by nightmares of the torture he endured, of being cooped up in that fucking casket and clawing his way out. he can never unsee the image of his family laying on the ground, unfairly brutalised. it all swirls in his mind until all he can do about it is work his body until he can't think, until he's panting for just one gulp of air, until his heart and lungs feel like they're about to burst and his vision goes dark.

it's only expected that whenever the universe decides to grant him something nice, he ruins it. grips onto it too tightly and shatters it in one go.

it isn't his fault he was dealt the worst fucking hand. it isn't his fault that all the goodness that flows towards him like a peaceful stream suddenly becomes tainted, blackened by his own blood-stained hands because he doesn't know how to not squeeze the life out of anything. it isn't his fault that he tries so hard to hold the pieces of what's left of his heart together, only to cut his hands in the process.

he made peace with the fact that he will die alone a long time ago because no one saved him before, and no one's going to save him now.

but then you come into his life. and for some reason, you won't leave him be. every time he tries to push you away, you shove him over to make room for yourself. every time he puts his walls up higher than before, you leap over them with ease, even blowing them over with just a breath. every time he stomps down on the little bit of hope growing inside of him, you handle the poor withered thing with gentle hands and replant the roots.

your attention, your genuine care for him, the way you smile so sweetly at him as if he's the only person that matters—

it all makes his heart twinge. he doesn't think he's felt something so intense, so overwhelming since seeing the unfortunate demise of his family, but you've reintroduced a feeling to him.

something soft. tender. loving.

it's like you're not giving him a chance to ruin this one good thing too. like you're rewriting his fate of always ending up alone and inserting yourself beside him so that he has someone to lean on. someone to share his pain with. someone to keep fighting for.

he hasn't cried in years, but he thinks your endless love and devotion are enough to make him weep oceans.

it's not until much later in your relationship, when he has you under one arm, snoring away softly, that he realises he hasn't had a single nightmare since he met you.

he no longer feels weighed down by his grief and pain. you absorbed all that he had to give you and returned the love tenfold, more than he ever thought he was worthy of. you mended the shards of his soul back together and intertwined it with your own. you rekindled the flame in him that he thought went out a long time ago. you took this broken man who had lost everything, and you put him back together. no matter how grimy your hands got, no matter how violently he bit and snapped at you, you took him in and showed him what he needed his entire life.

simon feels an ache in his heart when he looks down at you, but it doesn't pain him. he welcomes it with open arms and allows it to wash over him like the gentle glow of the sun.

he has never felt so, so warm.

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Treatment Plan

Last night was supposed to be harmless New Year’s Eve fun, partying with friends, dancing with strangers, and maybe finding someone to ring in the new year with. I remember dancing and taking shots with a really hot guy at some club where we'd shared a new year kiss. There's nothing else in my memory and I don’t remember when I passed out but I wake up alone in a medical examination room, naked, gagged, and strapped down to a bed with my arms above my head and legs spread wide.

The door opens and four men walk in. The first one I recognize is the hot guy I'd made out with. Except now, he has the look of a doctor, dressed in a white coat, wearing a stethoscope and holding a clipboard. The other three men are wearing nurses scrubs and not a single one acknowledges me as they step into the room and close the door behind them.

The doctor glances down at his clipboard and looks at me, smirking slightly. “It says here you’ve been admitted due to your issues with obedience and self-control. I promise we deliver the best results here, so you, darling, will be in tip-top shape in no time,” his voice is tinged with mockery and I try to shake my head and explain that this is all a mistake, that I have no idea what is going on, and I’m not supposed to be here.

“Day one of this treatment regimen helps us establish a baseline of what we’re working with and involves some sensory deprivation just to enhance the effectiveness but I promise, you’ll enjoy it,” he purrs, coming to stand next to my head before sliding a piece of fabric over my eyes. I struggle uselessly against the bindings, trying to dislodge the blindfold but it’s too secure to move. I feel hands hold my head in place before someone else slides headphones over my ears and suddenly, I’m blind and deaf to the world.

There is nothing to prepare me for what comes next, and no way that I can have any ability to sense what they plan to do to me. I can feel tears pricking at my eyes, absorbing into the blindfold when suddenly, I feel fingers trail along my ribs.

I let out a muted whimper, my body instinctively lurching in response. The feeling is so overwhelming and I’m absolutely senseless and helpless. The fingers linger around my hips and dig in gently, making me jerk uselessly in my bindings. It’s almost too much for my body to handle, the unknown touches, the horrible anticipation and suspense of not knowing anything at all.

Without warning, the fingers dig harder into my ribs, tickling me harshly and mercilessly. I wail behind the gag and thrash desperately, begging for it to stop to no avail. The fingers don’t let up and my entire world has narrowed to the unbearable sensations those fingers are drawing out of my bound body. There’s nothing I can do except endure it.

My wails have died down to little mindless whimpers as the tickling continues to ravage my ribs and hips when I feel the fingers pull away finally. I gasp for air, hoping that this torture is finally going to be over. Suddenly, I feel fingers brush against my underarms and I scream so hard my throat feels raw. I’m yanking and pulling at the straps holding me down but I’m bound too tightly. Tears are flowing freely into the blindfold as my body jerks. The fingers dig devastatingly into my underarms and I’m inconsolable. The tickling feels like electricity going straight into my nerves and it makes my mind hazy.

There’s no mercy and no stopping. The fingers find every vulnerable spot on my body and there’s nothing to stop the wretched tickling that’s making me want to curl into myself and disappear. There’s no acclimation to the feeling or becoming desensitized to it all. Every single movement feels like my body is dancing on a live wire and I have no choice but to experience every devastating feeling.

Another set of fingers finds their way to my hard nipples and I can barely draw in enough air to scream as the stimulation adds to the overwhelming feelings crashing through my body. Flicks against my nipples make me squirm and moan.

Then, my world lights up behind my blindfold when I feel fingers on my clit.

The combination of tickling at every sensitive spot on my body and the focus on my clit shatters me. Every single nerve is pulled open and vulnerable to unforgiving, relentless stimulation and I know I’m dripping wet onto the bed under me. It’s all too much for my brain to process. Every force on my body pushes me closer and closer to an orgasm and it’s unbearable.

A sudden flash of pain hits my clit as someone’s fingers sharply pinch my throbbing button and I wail as my orgasm barrels through my body. None of the stimulation lets up and the fingers on my clit continue to force waves of pleasure through my body while fingers everywhere else drive my orgasm even higher. I’m delirious and barely coherent between all of the different assaults of stimulation that wrack my body.

I feel the fingers on my clit pull away and I’m gasping and shaking. The tickling at my ribs and underarms doesn’t relent and I can barely catch my breath enough to sustain my sobs. Fingers brush against my inner thighs and I can’t help but whine, hearing only my wild heartbeat thudding in my ears.

Suddenly, there’s a vibrator slammed against my clit and my mind breaks. There are too many things going on but my whole being is driven to focus on the horrible vibrator pillaging my clit with no mercy. My next orgasm shoots through me with no warning, no build up, no gentle waves of pleasure. Just pure ecstasy shooting deep through my body, so hard that I can feel it in my bones and it renders me completely broken.

I have no concept of time or place as the torture continues. My body moves on its own accord as it struggles and trembles, futilely trying to avoid every touch. It could have been ten minutes or ten hours when everything finally fades away and all of the hands touching me are gone. I lie there, limp, unmoving, unthinking, barely conscious. It takes me an immeasurable amount of time to catch my breath, my body still feeling phantom aftershocks of pleasure and torment. I vaguely register the feeling of someone pulling the headphones off of my head and I’m able to hear again.

“Oh darling,” his voice is the first thing I recognize, “I suppose I forgot to mention, this treatment regimen has ten levels. And we can’t move on from level one until you learn to control your body and keep still during your treatments. Clearly we’re not going to get there today, but perhaps you’ll do better tomorrow. Otherwise, you’re in for a very long stay here…”

[prael]

Pliancy

Kinktember Day 4: Dollification

ILLIT Park Minju x male reader smut

words: 6,488 Kinktember Masterlist

Art is eternal. Who was it that once said that a thing of beauty is a joy forever? Was it Byron? Was it Yeats? Who cares. But that line, however trite, does kind of get the concept down, really, as clichéd and insipid as it sounds.

Minju, too, is a joy forever, with her soft face, her sweet body, and her delicate touch. On this, I will allow you an image: she was the absolute pinnacle of girlhood, the perfect blending of innocence and wanton sexiness. When you pressed her slender wrists down into the sheets of her bed with those pale, thin fingers and pinned her slender body with your cock, you became one with a living, breathing piece of high art. The feeling of that, ah, that is something you cannot ever convey. And that's probably how it started, your obsession with her; she was beautiful and delicate and utterly desirable. She had all the loveliness of a porcelain figurine; just looking at her could arouse you, bring about your lusts and make your mouth dry up.

But there is something, and you realise this, something both primal and shameful, about wanting to sully that image of innocence. Not, of course, that your feelings towards Minju are wholly visceral—you do love her, and genuinely so. The things you do may imply something different, a detachment from her as a person if someone were looking in from the outside, but just as you assured her, it's an act born out of admiration. It's an act out of devotion.

To dollify the living, breathing, loving, feeling organism called Minju, then to make her merely an object for your desires. Ah, there's something wonderfully, gloriously filthy in that—the violation and the liberation. In all those actions and thoughts, you can be sure, is that undercurrent of perverseness and lust. Your lips tracing across Minju's navel is an act of passion, one to express the fullness and warmth that has bloomed inside your chest. Your hands gripping her thighs so tight that they leave deep, crimson fingerprints on the skin is an act of passion too—one to express a primal need.

When it all starts, Minju, a girl so usually full of energy and vivacity, is demure and quiet; she sits in this stoic way in front of you, knees together and her hands resting on her thighs, just below the table. The table holds the tools of your art: hairclips, mascara, lip gloss, nail polish and everything else. She waits, as she always does, in silent expectation.

Minju wears the outfit you laid out for her that afternoon. The fabrics are light and flowing, cotton in a milky off-white colour hugging her upper body and a linen shirt whose billowy sleeves hang around her slender arms; at the wrists, she keeps the cuffs rolled up. Cotton shorts, equally soft, equally neutral in colour, held to her small waist by a ribbon as a makeshift belt. All of it was chosen specifically by you—it's all so very angelic, and comfortable. Innocent.

You set about your work, asking her to place a hand on the table. Nails take the longest to dry so you start there: you paint the end of each of her slender fingers one at a time, taking great care, letting her rest her hand in the palm of your own as you go through the motion. Whisper-like strokes of the brush over the thin keratin in a pastel shade, the pink of newly-blossomed cherry flowers. A compliment to her fair complexion. 

One hand done, you raise it closer to your mouth and gently blow over the fingertips, to quicken their drying. Her hand, in yours, is ever so small. So petite. You remark this, smiling, and her expression—wide-eyed and quietly attentive—softens. It's a sight so adorable; how the ends of her lips upturn as if you've said something exceptionally touching. That's the thing with Minju; you just never quite get used to how much trust and affection is conveyed in those big, soft eyes.

Not long until the other hand is done, perfect crisp painting without a single smudge, or mistake.

You screw in the brush, then stand to move the table aside, you pull it away from her and then push it away. You kneel at her feet, hand resting gently on a small calf. You lift a leg, then draw your hand down it, to her heel. Bare feet, too, are a marvel in and of themselves: smooth skin over arched bones. Like all good things, it's imperfect; she's a dancer after all, still, she takes all the care to moisturise and you take all the care to massage them.

Now, Minju is ticklish, always has been, so when you take hold of her foot in preparation to paint her nails, she struggles not to break composure, and yet a cute little smirk betrays her. With one hand, you hold it steady; with the other, you reach to the table and draw the brush from the pot of white paint. White like the brightest snow, a winter's morn. You make slow, even strokes, over her nails, starting with the big toe and making your way down the digits, till her little feet are thoroughly and beautifully made up.

She flinches occasionally, under your touch, but with great care, you never make a mistake. No stain on her flesh. Repeated for her other foot too, each followed by a patient period of gently blowing, which sees her struggle against the tickling of her flesh even more. This time, she moves, almost unable to help it—and you know that to admonish her would not be the gentlemanly thing.

"It's okay Minju. Relax," you tell her, softly, as she takes a steadying breath, "that's it. Good."

It is here where you see a glow of pleasure and a hint of a smile on her pretty, youthful face, at hearing words of praise from you. This you know well: to Minju, your affirmations have an almost spiritual significance. In all the time you have known her, she has yearned to do well, to make others around her happy, to gain approval and affection, and as someone important in her life, this sentiment extends to you.

"My angel," you call her, not for the first time, and definitely not for the last. You lean close to place a gentle peck of your lips against her leg, just above the ankle, which causes her to stir. But that's okay, a moment of weakness is ever expected. You shift away from her leg, letting the soft flesh slip from your hand, and admire the neat work you have done so far. "There we go."

You bring your chair close to her, so you can sit, knee to knee across from her and set to work on her pretty features. First, you frame her face by clipping back the locks of fine honey-brown that threatened to obscure her eyes. Then you take the lip gloss in a soft rose colour, and a slender, synthetic-haired brush, and begin the work of accentuating her lips. Start at the top and glide over the curve that runs along her cupid's bow. Define the fine edges and then coat, to treat yourself to a shimmering pink glow; a shine over the otherwise natural look.

"Perfect. Oh, how I want to kiss them."

Minju doesn't say a word but the look in her eye speaks all the same, 'I wish you would do it.'

She remains still as you take hold of the thin eyeliner pencil in one hand and Minju's chin with the other, carefully positioning the tip under the lash line, and drawing it slowly, ever-so-carefully. Drawing a light, curved line to the side, first on her right, and then on her left. Do the same, light and clean, under the bottom lashes, being extra sure to define her creases.

Her eyes, as you study them, are so rich and vivid in colour that they command all of your attention and all of your efforts. So you work carefully, deliberately; being this close to her means you can see each speck, each mote in those deep, earthy brown irises. This intimacy, the face-to-face nearness of it all, brings on a unique vulnerability: when she closes her eyes next, to allow you to apply shadow to her lids, Minju puts herself at your mercy.

Minju's lips part and a small but noticeable hitch of her breath follows as you pull yourself away and admire your work. She has this kind of seductive natural pout—soft, shapely. Something alluring that the angles of her mouth lend her. As you sweep blush powder over her cheeks with a fine, oval-shaped brush, she utters a soft question, "How does it look?"

You bring a finger to rest against the fullness of her cheek, letting it trace along her soft flesh, down her jaw, and under her chin—before bringing it upwards, a physical prompting, to make her lift her chin higher. "Perfect. Always."

It occurs to you, as you define her eyebrows in quick, practised strokes, that for all the work you put into her, the inhuman focus and the undivided attention, this effort is nothing against the absolute, undying beauty that is Park Minju. It's a sort of colour-by-numbers deal; with all the perfect lines drawn out, it's up to you—a mock amateur—to simply embellish, to exaggerate, what is already there. To add shadow, light, and life.

You finish your work creating ('Creating' is the wrong word, more so, refining) the perfect doll. Minju keeps still, and patient. Beautiful.

"Precious girl."

By her earlobe, just below the jaw, there is a spot. The most perfect, sensitive area, to which you bow your head. Close your eyes. Place your lips. You kiss this spot, slowly, dragging your lips against her flesh, across it, revelling in the delicate softness. Revelling in her soft little moan, muffled only by pursed lips.

You push your chair back, and stand, looking down at her from above. You draw the clips back from her hair and it falls back into the perfect place. You circle around her once, slow, methodical. Taking all of her in, marvelling.

The greatest treasure in all the world. A masterpiece.

She follows your every guidance as you pull her to her feet. After all, she is, for tonight, nothing more than a doll. Pliable. Openly, and explicitly, subservient. You turn her and position her before a full-length mirror set in the far corner of her room. There she stands, arms at her side, staring back at you with doe-like, innocent eyes. There you stand, tall, strong behind her, hands on her arms.

"Perfect. You really are the most precious girl."

Your grip on her upper arms is gentle but firm as you ease her forward into a bend at the hips, tilting her towards the mirror as you place her into a pose. Fingers playing lightly down her limbs, like stroking the keys on the piano, or the strings on a guitar. You place her hands behind her back, and instruct her expression, "Give me a sweet smile."

Your voice is quiet in her ear as she nods, just the slightest, almost indiscernible incline of the head. She stares down the mirror as her full, kissable lips slowly contort into a charming, simpering smile, the type that the most beloved princesses often wear. You press up behind her, brushing your body tight against hers and see how that lovely little grin of hers slowly stretches up, to become ever so slightly crooked.

In your reflection in the mirror, you see yourself behind her. She holds perfectly still, hands fixed as if bound at the wrists, legs set slightly apart. "Pretty, don't you think?" You ask, teasingly. You press a little into her upper back, angling her in such a way that in the reflection you see down her cotton shirt, revealing the taut, soft curve of her small breasts. The sight of that, the teasing glance, is intoxicating. It brings a slight tremor down your spine, one you swallow down with a sharp breath. "Yes," you assure her, "Very pretty."

Her breathing comes laboured now, sharp little gasps; perhaps it has started to arouse her too, knowing herself to be at the mercy of your hands. Knowing herself to be nothing more than an object at this time—a living doll. To be used, played with, broken, toyed with, cared for or cast aside as you will.

You pull her to a stand and guide her away from the mirror. Her legs are long but you tower over her. She's so light to the touch, the petite girl, that should you need to, you could carry anywhere you desire in one swooping embrace.

You lead her to her dresser, to pose her against it. You guide her lithe left leg, so it crosses over the right one, you place her hands on the wood and let her rest against it. And she, docile, complies. "Like this?" She whispers.

"That's perfect."

You draw the collar of her shirt over her left shoulder, the one closest to you, until it hangs at around elbow height, exposing the skin underneath. A bare arm, all the way up to the strap of her tank top. You smile, admiring your own work, her poise and posture. You adjust her face, so she gazes slightly down in front of her. A final check to ensure the pose is perfect. It doesn't hurt that Minju is a natural when it comes to expressions: there is always some inflexion to the curl of her lips and the shape of her eyes, that says, 'I love this'.

You take the final unused item from the table, a Polaroid camera, one of the new instant types. This one, white, boxy and expensive, is perfect to capture Minju's pristine beauty. One image taken of her here, a pose in the frame, holding the photo to wait for it to develop is worth, it seems, a thousand words. It never ceases to amaze you: how well the camera captures her: how it draws out that natural aura of Minju and depicts it on the fine gloss. It makes, in effect, a perfect keepsake.

You take two more shots, each one giving you pause for appreciation. Each one, was perfect, like it was a scene from an album cover or the poster for a movie. She watches you from her position, gazing intently at you with a lovingly longing gaze. Watching you in fascination, and admiration.

You hold one in front of her. "This is my favourite, look at the way your leg curves here," you point to it, showing her. "And here, the shoulder, just at that angle. See the light dancing in your eyes and on the pink gloss, on the lips. Beautiful."

She remains lifelessly still staring at herself in the print without a word or reaction.

"Now, just one more like this, but first..." You place the camera slowly on the dresser, then grab the hem of her shirt. You fold it in under itself a few times until it sits taut across her stomach, just above her button. Her narrow waist is set into beautiful relief: a curvature down toned abs leading to between her thin hips. Then you pull at the other shoulder of the shirt, more pale skin, more svelteness of form, more smooth flesh. There's a light shiver through her skin as you graze her arm with your finger.

You push slightly into her chest, leaning her back a little over the dresser and then you tilt her head back exposing her neck. Soft lips fall open just the slightest, like the petals of a rose blooming, a faint gasp of a moan parting her pink lips, and her heavy breathing filling her heaving chest.

Taking the camera, you step back, crouch slightly, hold the lens up to eye height and take the shot; a flash and a click of the shutter is followed by a slow hum and a whir of the plastic film rolling out. Another polaroid, you take it to her, tugging lightly at her chin to direct her gaze to it. "This one," you breathe in close to her, placing a kiss on her exposed neck, "is something truly special." You fix on her scent, something fruity and soft: orange blossom undertones.

Minju lets out a soft gasp.

"This one turns me on. The exposed skin. The lustful eyes. Those parted lips, like an invitation," you utter, "do you know how beautiful you look, Minju? How sexy?"

The deepening of her breath tells you what you want to hear.

"New pose. Come here." You take hold of her bare shoulders and pull her to a stand. Her shirt hangs at her back between her elbows. You move behind her as you guide her toward the window, opening her curtains wide and letting the final embers of sunlight in to kiss her skin. You slip her shirt from her arms that hang by her side. "Let's lean you against here."

You guide her hands onto the sill of the window. Let her hands rest flat against it. Hold her by the hips and pull them back, making her shuffle her legs back. Make the curve of her ass tighter, the flex of her lower back deeper.

You pose her into this deep bend, then guide her face up so she faces the evening light. So she basks, regally, in the final glow of the setting sun, and you can see the pinking hue reflected in her eyes.

"Be a good doll and remain still."

The heat has turned Minju's pale flesh red, but you soothe her with a palm, a brush against a soft cheek and an affectionate 'hush'. You fixate upon the curves and lines of her back, following the path of her spine down with your hand, taking care to remain in the hollow. That central channel carved through her back that draws down the centre, passing by dimples in her lower back before widening at the hips and merging into her tapering waist, is a work of art unto itself. 

A simple touch of a kiss against that soft flesh at the base of the spine, and Minju fails to disguise a sharp breath as you kneel, her bare calves become a mounting point for your hands. She inhales in soft, controlled bursts as your fingertips stroke around the curve of her lower leg, working around and under the leg, dragging slowly upwards as you make careful circles over her toned calves, till your finger hits the lower thigh. Upward, further. Her body trembles gently as your hand traces along her inner thigh, up to her light cotton shorts where you draw your hand over to the back of her thighs and back down.

"Be a good doll," you repeat, quiet, breath warm against her lower back. You hook your fingers into her shorts, running your palms on her taut, toned little ass. Slight tremors from Minju ripple through your skin as you hook in the fingers of either hand beneath the elastic of her underwear too. A lingering hesitation passes as you focus, and in the serenity of the moment, you draw everything down in one slow, measured pull. The sight of the white cotton dragging down over the firm roundness of her ass has you weak.

You stop at her ankles, and one at a time, you lift a foot out of the clothes, and pull them free, planting her foot back down in a slightly wider stance. You look up, and to her faint reflection in the window, and admire the look she wears, the unnerving determination to hold still and say not a single thing. The deep red hue paints her skin as the day darkens.

"Stay," you command.

You find the camera one final time, to indulge in one final intoxicating shot: Minju, back beautifully lit by the last remnants of the sun's rays, the light striking her skin and making the paleness and tone all the more beautiful; the slight swell of her hips, the small, firm, almost apple-like curve of her behind, and those slim toned thighs in the shadow.

"Hold for me, don't move."

She stares resolutely into the distance through the window, hands clutching the edge of the window sill as you draw the viewfinder to your eye once again. Click, a flash and a whir. The exposure of the light behind her leaves a shadowy image on the thinning film of her nude behind; the smooth line of her legs, her trim waist and that sweet little thing between her legs. An air of sophistication; and one of sin.

"See this?" You show it to her and the embarrassment causes a flutter in her eyes; the arousal of watching her own bare ass on the printed film causes the slightest redness of her cheeks. "I'm going to use that right there. Stay."

There's another twitch in her eyes as you walk away and leave her there, still posing, looking as sensational as ever. You walk out the door, to drink, relax, anything to make her wait. Make her suffer the indignity of exposure and vulnerability.

You spy her through the doorway and never does she move a muscle, your little doll-girl stands there obediently as requested. Time passes—several minutes. And yet she, with such admirable determination, wills herself to stay in position until you return. And you do. You saunter back in, slow. Walking behind her and she never once looks back over her shoulder.

You rest a hand on her waist and the contact is met with a sudden release of tension—her chest falls with a sigh. Her pose remains perfect—adulation for your hand, written in the small shakes of her body and the gradual intonations of her heavy pants. A perfect and delicate angel. Your hand slips from her waist down over the taut curve of her ass, palm resting for the briefest moment on the soft, supple flesh. The pliability. Your hand continues the path it has carved over her skin until it rests lightly between her legs.

A gentle palm over her sex sends a current through her entire form, and a tensing in her muscles is the only indication she offers that there's a struggle to suppress noise in her throat. Hot and wet and you're a man driven by impulse. You step behind her, stroking her, massaging her, then withdrawing to instead spread her slightly with a single, teasing fingertip. "Good little doll."

A clear, sticky, glistening moisture trickles onto the digit and in the way Minju shivers, you are given every impression, you're sure of it, that her lower stomach muscles have clenched tight and are presently squeezing themselves in on each other. A fever pitch is reached within her, and you're ready too.

You draw your hand away, leaving Minju suspended in torment: there is desire, there is desperation and tension that must be alleviated. That itch soothed. She must hear it, the sound of you unbuckling and unzipping. A rustle of fabric as you pull them down and take them off.

With no word, you hit a palm against her ass, a quick and painful swat with your bare hand. Hard, smacking against soft, dough-like flesh. She stifles a soft, bitten-off yelp that sends a vibration up the curve of her back. "Going to play with you," you utter quietly. "Use this doll however I like."

Your hand is drawn back over the red mark on her tender flesh, stroking the mark, massaging, and it soon heats against your palm. You follow it by pressing the very tip of your dick, gently, against her opening. Enough pressure there for you both to know where the next moments go and a slight motion—only the gentlest thrusting—to grind that sensitive flesh in. Just enough to make her bite back her lower lip, to struggle against the overwhelming urge to break her poise.

To add to that struggle, the sensation, you lull her, deceive her, by trailing your length against her slick, tender folds, then abruptly drag it over the tight hole right there at the back. One more light tap there too, right on her little asshole, that drives her into a daze. Then you take her slit again, spreading her open, rubbing yourself over that hot hole and sending her a thousand electric tingles up through her hips.

You thrust once, a single long thrust, right into her little pussy, as much as her wetness will allow until resistance forms. Then back out, completely. Glistening with the slick fluids, you slap your shaft against her ass a couple of times. Wetness dripping, staining those tight cheeks. Then a wet slap of your hand to a cheek. Testing when she will break. Searching for that whimper, that moan, or maybe she'll hold it so well that a tear will form in her eye.

You fill her again, use her a little, rocking your hips back and forth. A careless use of her for pleasure, no consideration for her, for what she might desire and it is pure torture to her. One hand circles over her ass, grazing over the reddened mark, you let it settle on the top of her thigh for leverage and dig your fingertips into the skin. Another few firm pumps into her. Out. All the way out.

Dripping fluid pools around her slit, spilling out down her thigh, hot. "There's no better use for you than this," you hiss, as you smear the wetness over her flesh with the swollen head. The discomfort, the uncertainty, all of it written on her reddened skin and trembling lips. Another few slow pumps up her. Thrust, thrust, thrust. Draw out—slow, torturous—and then fill her again, rough, and violent, driving yourself up hard against her soft skin. Again. "Just like a sex doll," you groan. "Like you're a dirty toy."

Those words draw this low growl inside her, and Minju shudders under the intensity, this vibrating noise rising in her. Fuck, it feels wonderful in her, tight, burning hot—soft, yielding—wet, messy. Drive into that tension, the squeeze on you, where she can feel you so full and snug inside her.

Allow yourself for a moment, to just enjoy her, as she is. She will allow you to, don't fret. Enjoy her as a possession, something lesser than yourself; an object to be manipulated, used and owned. Let her be your slut and let the words roll around in your head. There are times you prefer to fill her with long, agonising strokes, and there are those other times that are frantic and hurried. She takes it all, wilfully and willingly and adoration flows through your veins.

No care for if she cums, you simply use her too. It is not in a casual disregard for her desires, or in selfish pursuit of pleasure at the sacrifice of her. No, no. That is not true. Minju wants this. She cares less about her own pleasure than you. Should she cum, then maybe that would be a nice perk to all of this, but all she wants is to submit herself as a vessel for yours. To serve as the implement to which you expel everything. You have taken her into that dream world she desires to inhabit, where she's an item to be manoeuvred as one wills.

And so you get close, right inside of her—clutch, tense—as she milks you so exquisitely, squeezing and so soft, so fucking silken-smooth and at the very last, you pull out—every last drop is captured on Minju's skin. Her spread ass, her back, thighs.

For all the care you took, perfecting her makeup, now a fine sweat paints a layer across her skin and you're shooting over it and making a true mess of her. All that, her absolute purity and devotion, and what you have done is sullied it. Your doll, your most precious is dirtied. But your most precious thing in the world deserves the best you can give her.

So it is after you have painted your release over her body, that you leave her again—basking in the humiliation of how fluids trickle down her flesh. Just a toy, put aside to stand, vulnerable, debauched and unsatisfied, waiting to be picked up again and played with once more. You could leave her all night. Have her be ready and willing any time you desire. Your toy.

"Fuck, what a sight." You step away, back out of the room, spent and gazing at her. Minju, of course, keeps her back facing you the entire time, she does not dare turn back around to see her, not even to cover up or find modesty, it simply would not occur to her to do so.

Aware of the pain, the hurt of being left this way. Left unfinished. A small smile plays on your lips, the knowledge that this is what turns her on most. Her lover is out there, he's drinking, eating, watching TV, or anything, and she doesn't really know where. She just stays resting over the window ledge with her legs held apart, exposed and vulnerable.

Knowing, feeling, every stroke that has been applied over her body, every part you have made use of, and the places in which you have violated, is enough to turn Minju's insides all warm and fuzzy and soft. Your fingerprints are inked upon her flesh—traced by the veneer of liquids coating her—a record of who has marked her, owned her, as nothing more than an instrument of delight.

Until you're ready to come back, she holds back an unspoken whimper. Tension in her stomach muscles and legs threatened to give out.

Oh, how badly the poor girl yearns to be picked up, taken and fucked again and again.

Eventually, you do return, and without warning. As if you'd never been gone a moment at all, you're just there suddenly behind her, you just have that presence of power that exudes over her. You say her name—nothing else—but the tinge to your voice tells her that you've missed her.

You bring your hands around her slim waist, just above the hips, and trail upwards. Grinding back inside her feels as wonderful as ever. Still throbbing, still wet, still wanton, and she takes you in, spreading wide once again. "Missed me?" You coo, but she still never responds verbally—dutifully compliant, Minju simply moans, her cheeks flushed the same colour as her smeared lips.

You're rough with her, pulling her away from the window and pushing her into the middle of the room. Hasty, impatient, and uncaring. Now, you see, Minju weighs nothing to you, it feels like there's nothing to her; something light, lithe, easily manoeuvrable, like you can twist her and pull her without resistance.

You draw her to you, picking her up from the ground by her waist and walking forward. You set her down on a desk—her ass perching first, then you push her onto her back, drawing up her knees to her chest and pressing onto her. Oh, flexible Minju, sweet Minju: the perfect sexual tool to place and fold and screw whichever way you want.

Minju is pinned there, under you, taking you into her pussy, tight around you. Dutifully letting you shove into her repeatedly, without fight or complaint, only meek, restrained sounds of satisfaction. Letting her limbs fold, letting herself be toyed with however you need or want.

Stretch her as you take hold of her neck and restrain her to the wooden surface. You bear down on her, fucking into her with strong, sure pumps, and with every thrust into Minju, you feel her heat against your thighs and groin, her warm juices seeping down over her, and a vulgar squelching sound filling the air.

The air is dense and hot and she is flushed bright red; she gazes at you, her face etched with need. You're forcing your doll-girl, fucking her raw and hard into her desk. Rough, dominating strokes. And what does she do but squirm and moan and take every ounce of your strength? "F-fuck," she moans out the profanity, her body succumbing to the overwhelming burst of intense, numbing heat. She flinches a few times as her eyes squeeze shut.

So close, now. Another round, and there is nowhere Minju is more content than trapped, helpless, watching you near another orgasm. She doesn't even attempt to hide her delight when you're about to blow. A smile of satisfaction as you unload inside of her. A welcome sight as you feel yourself rupture, as your essence pumps into her little fuckhole. The sticky hot cum that fills her.

And Minju moans for you, breathless, happy, so lovingly joyful that her existence has resulted in this moment—this act—her purpose as nothing more than something you fuck, claim, and own.

But, there is work to be done, work you cannot shirk away from. So, with a light sigh, you wipe your forehead, you gather Minju off of the table—flickering eyelids and all—and you lead her with gentle encouragement. "Let's clean you off. There's a good girl," you say, and she holds onto your neck, as you lift her off the desk.

You perch Minju on the sink for a moment, un-trapping her legs so she can stand once you place her into the shower.

"Stay. Still."

And again, you can see that longing gaze. Sultry, drawn. She wants so much, and she needs so little.

"There," you draw out the word with a certain finality and walk behind her to start the shower, switching from bath faucet to shower nozzle, and taking great care in testing the heat of the water, to make sure not to burn her precious skin.

You start with her shoulders, sweeping her soaked locks down her back, wet, heavy and darker now. Washing her takes time, patience, and gentleness—you bring the palm of your hand over her shoulder while the other directs the shower head. The water trails down her arm, little rivulets tracing over her porcelain skin. You draw the shower across her back and admire how the water caresses the curves of her frame.

She keeps perfectly still, save the tremble that comes with the rise of her chest each time the water meets a sensitive point. Your hand follows in the water, over her sides, slowly. You draw her close against your chest, putting your head beside Minju's, looking down over her shoulder. you bring the head of the shower to her chest and let the water flow across, over the swell of her breasts.

You whisper into her ear, "Stay just like this. Let me wash down my toy after use."

Your name comes out of her mouth, a little strained, and when you wrap your arm around her and cup her little breast, she immediately whimpers. This poor girl still hasn't cum, and she's so sensitive.

You rest her against you, keeping your front flush against the curve of her back, and there is something wonderful and sweet in the way she falls back against you. Minju leans her head back on your shoulder, a nuzzle, and your hand continues to cup her and you play with her nipple. The shower, however, you bring lower and lower, down over her slender belly and between her legs.

The lower it goes, the more soft whimpers she makes, and Minju's feet begin to curl, and she draws a slow intake of air through her clenched teeth. You dip the jets of water low, and Minju finally gives out this small groan, her eyes squeezing tight and her mouth opening and closing, the words and sounds catching as she trembles all over. 

You press it against her pussy, and she bucks lightly backwards against you—hard—and grinds. A pleasured exhale, a sign of satisfaction. That the poor girl is finally getting her pleasure but "No, no, no," she says—is she feeling guilty for it?—and she struggles forward from your grasp.

"Shh... it's okay," you soothe her, but she still jerks her body. There's this fact, that always rings true, whenever you use Minju like this. Part of it, she told you before, is how in her own head she degrades herself. She tells herself that she doesn't deserve to cum. That a toy's only purpose is for others, and she will deny herself an orgasm until you give her express permission to finish herself. That's why she fights now, she is ashamed of her own arousal and enjoyment.

You press the shower hard into her clit and she groans, "I can't... I can't—"

"Yes, you can." You focus on using the shower in little circles, not allowing any distance between it and the sensitive nub. Her head falls back on you, eyes shut tight as if in anguish. "You have served me so well. You were so wonderful. Let go for me, beautiful." You murmur those things in her ear and Minju opens her lips to say something but no words form, it's simply a long, deep-seated, contented moan. A relief-filled sound that is music to your ears.

Her back goes completely tense, and her hips twist and buck, but you press firmly down, keeping her locked into the jet. She bites her lower lip, almost like she's desperate, and it hurts, the way her whole body tenses up for so many seconds before the relief sweeps over her. The sensations surge throughout her body, leaving her limp and satisfied.

After the rush passes through, she moans, over and over. Shattering pleasure has overtaken her mind and all she can think about is the joy her lover has bestowed upon her, the ultimate show of adoration and tenderness.

"Good girl. That's it. Give in," you breathe out the last sentence, and Minju moans louder, riding it out. Her body writhes violently and her toes curl as her breathing stops, she's stuck at the very height of her pleasure, but finally lets out an ecstatic, long-winded moan. You drop the shower, and cradle Minju with your whole body.

Her hips jump one last time against your hand and then she goes completely lax against you, her feet plant flat down and her whole body gives out. Minju slides back onto her heels, and her face drops toward the floor and she just smiles with pure glee. If not for you, she would collapse to the floor in this exhausted, limp state.

For some minutes, you hold Minju until she can find enough strength until the daze of her orgasm is no longer in effect.

"Now, let's really clean up."

"Let me," she says. "Let me clean you, please."

[amorisxx]

Snickerdoodle pt. ii

pairing: Art Donaldson x reader summary: Tashi invites you and your son to lunch with her family. You meet Patrick. And you can't stop sharing your cookies with Art. warnings: smut 18+, cheating, mentions of car sex, oral sex (fem receiving because Art is a munch), adults still acting like horny teenagers, hastily proofread word count: 4.2K prev part | next part

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

Tashi does call you. She invites you to have lunch. On them.

You say no.

There’s no way you can go have lunch with the man you just fucked in a parking lot and his wife. You make up some sort of excuse, continuing to dodge her calls for a week.

Unfortunately, your karma is fast acting because you run into Tashi while picking up Kaleb from school one day. Lily and Kaleb have grown closer this school year. In any other instance, you’d be proud of your little dude for making friends, but you can’t help but side eye him when he asks to have a playdate with Lily right in front of Tashi.

Before you can properly respond, Lily is tugging on her mom’s sleeve saying “please, please, please” and Tashi is giving you an apologetic smile. You relent because to do otherwise would make you a terrible mom. Denying your son time with his friend just because you’re avoiding the consequences of your own actions would be a new low. So, you agree to bring Kaleb over that weekend. Much to your dismay, Tashi takes the opportunity to sneak in the offer of lunch again.

ᯓ

On Saturday, you find yourself on the Donaldson’s patio while Kaleb and Lily play in their picturesque backyard. Sunlight pours over the yard, engulfing everything in a warm, soft glow. Lush greenery billows out from the ground creating pillowy grass for the kids to run around through barefoot. A steady trickle of water flows over rocks into a large pond nearby. There’s a light breeze in the air, just enough to feel refreshing.

Tashi is sure to order lunch for everyone. And despite your reluctance to show, you still bring a shiny, red tin of snickerdoodle cookies for dessert. Art took to reminding the kids to finish their food before playing and to be careful near the pond. When they insist on feeding their leftover bread to the fish, he’s quick to make sure they don’t go too far. The afternoon sun settles over him as he kneels between the two, carefully pinching off pieces of breadcrumbs to gently toss into the shimmering water. You just barely hold back a small smile at the seraphic appearance of him, and when you glance back around, Tashi’s eyes meet yours with a slight smile of her own.

Despite the serene atmosphere of their home, you can’t fully relax into your chair as you nibble on your lunch. Art peeks at the way you keep fidgeting with your dress and adjusting your watch on your wrist. He subtly tries to tap you to grab your attention, but you pretend to be reaching for another mimosa to avoid the contact. You find yourself glad to have another drink, actually, because you’re feeling more nervous by the second. You sip from your glass and graciously fall into a conversation with Tashi about your baking in an effort to ignore Art. You think that maybe you’ll feel less guilty about your attraction to her husband if you appear unaffected by him.

Halfway through lunch, you meet Patrick, a tall man with dark curls and glimmering eyes. He’d sauntered over to the table with an impish grin, taking the seat across from you. They introduce him as the player Tashi is coaching and Art’s best friend. You learn that Patrick lives in their guest house. But the way he moves about the space suggests that he’s quite familiar with their home.

Patrick talks to you about his career. Says you might’ve seen him play. You give a tight smile, tell him maybe you had.

In truth, you have no idea who Patrick is.

He openly flirts with you. Says he’s single. You don’t miss the glare Tashi shoots him. Art, however, is laser focused on your reaction to Patrick, searching your face each time he makes a suggestive comment.

You’re shaking your head in restrained amusement at Patrick when Kaleb runs to the table for a sip of lemonade. He spills it in his haste to get back to Lily, and you use a napkin to dab his chin before he pushes your hand away, grumbling mom under his breath. When he’s out of earshot, Patrick casually tells you that you look too good to have a kid Kaleb’s age.

You’re too stunned to speak. Art reaches across the table and slaps the cookie that he’s stolen out of Patrick’s hand, which makes him glare at Art, while Tashi groans in annoyance.

She massages her right temple and sighs, “I apologize for Patrick. He lacks basic home training.” He only grins at her comment.

When he pours himself a glass of sparkling champagne, she snatches it from him, muttering about not fucking up his meal plan. Patrick licks the droplets of champagne that landed on his fingers. She looks at him with disgust and continues, “He wasn’t even supposed to be here. But you know what they say. Never feed a stray cat.”

After you’ve made your way through two mimosas, you turn to Tashi to ask for the bathroom. You expect her to take you. Or simply give instructions and send you on your way, but Art stands up and says, “Come on, I’ll show you.”

You want to decline, but your bladder is screaming, so you follow him through the large French doors leading into their kitchen. You reluctantly watch the way his muscles move in tandem with his lazy stride. His gait is noticeably less stiff as he makes his way through his home. Here, he doesn’t have to be Art Donaldson ™, just Art. He doesn’t turn around until he stops at a door situated in the hallway you passed when you entered their house. He could’ve just told you that the bathroom was on that hall.

“Here it is.”

“Thanks,” you whisper and reach for the knob. Before he can say anything else, you shut the door behind you and lock it. When you think you can hear footsteps departing, you release a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

You quickly pee and wash your hands, lingering to stare at the water rinsing over your fingers. It’s not until the stream is hot enough to sting that you retract your hands, grab the hand towel and turn off the faucet.

It would be nice to just stay locked in here until Kaleb is tired out and ready to go home. But you know that would be weird at best and suspicious at worst.

“You can do this,” you whisper to yourself in the mirror. “It’s just one lunch. After this, you never have to talk to these people again.”

With a mindful inhale, you move to open the door and pray Kaleb can make some new friends.

You’re thinking about how bad of a mom you are when you almost bump into Art.

“Shit! You scared me!”

He frowns at you. “What? You surprised there was someone else in the house?” He says, voice laced with amusement.

You roll your eyes. “No, I just didn’t expect you to pop up. I thought you’d gone back outside.”

“I was waiting for you.”

“Oh…you didn’t have to do that. I could’ve found my way back.”

“Never said you couldn’t.” You think he’s standing closer to you now. “I just uh, I wanted to talk to you. You’ve been…” he moves his head from side to side, “a little tense.”

You let out an exaggerated gasp. “Really? You don’t say?”

He frowns. Like a kid who doesn’t understand why you’re taking away his cookies.

“Art, how did you think I was gonna act? After what…” you lower your voice, “after what we did,” you hiss.

His hand grasps your shoulder. “Hey.” He squeezes it. “I told you it was fine.”

You scoff. “So we just pretend it didn’t happen?”

“I didn’t say that. I told you, I wanted you.”

“And that makes it okay?” You crane your head back to stare at him.

He turns his head in the direction of the kitchen before letting out a sigh and bringing his eyes back to bore into yours. “Yeah. For me, it does.” You don’t think you’ve ever seen the intensity settled in his gaze the way it is now.

You look at him with disbelief. “Art. You’re married.”

He blinks at you.

“Your wife is literally sitting outside watching our children play.” You try to get him to see how wrong this is. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” You didn’t think Art could be so cold about this.

“It didn’t mean anything when she cheated on me.” His voice is steady, but there’s something undeniably hidden behind his hardened expression. You can’t place it, but whatever it is, it makes your brows soften.

“What?” You say lamely.

“You heard me.”

Your mouth opens. Then closes. That time when he’d told you he understood, he actually had. And you hadn’t believed him.

You want to inquire more, but he interrupts you. “Listen, I’m not really up to rehashing the fails of my marriage right now,” he says, reaching to grab your hand. You let him. “Just know that you don’t need to feel guilty. About anything.”

His fingers gently tilt your chin to look him in the eyes. “And know that everything we did that night was something I’ve wanted for awhile. Something I still want.”

Your eyes impulsively dart to his lips.

“Please tell me I can touch you,” he all but whimpers.

And at that moment, you know you really aren’t a good person. Because it only takes a matter of seconds for you to lean forward and catch Art’s lips as his head moves towards you. You bring your hands around the back of his neck as his arms snake around your waist. His warm hand presses against your hip before traveling up until he reaches your ribcage. You sigh into his mouth and thread your fingers through his hair. It didn’t take long for you to get lost in him, abandoning any form of restraint.

Despite the tenderness seeping through your fingertips, the kiss is rushed. It’s filled with lust and the desperation of two people, frantically trying to get as much as they can from the other. You whimper when you feel Art’s teeth dig into your bottom lip. One hand drags up to cup your breast, and the other moves to grip your ass, squeezing it. With an arch of your back, you let your head loll backwards a bit as Art’s pink tongue swirls around yours. He grunts out a small fuck when his thumb brushes over your clothed nipple and you moan. The action brings up flashes of him pressing his mouth to your breasts that night in the parking lot. You recall the way he sucked on them and played with your clit through your damp panties. The memory goes straight to your core.

Suddenly, Art pauses to glance towards the kitchen, as if weighing his options. You can feel him pressed up against you hard. And a part of you clenches when he turns back to you, grins, and whispers “fuck it” before attacking your mouth again. You let out a sound of surprise when you feel him ushering you back to the bathroom.

The lock clicks behind you as he presses you up against the door. His hands are everywhere and his tongue is following in quick succession. You’re so overwhelmed by it all that you can barely figure out where to place your hands. You settle for his shoulders as he falls to his knees in front of you.

Art spreads your legs, pressing his face into the side of your inner thigh. His nose and parted mouth travel up your thigh, bunching up the fabric of your knitted dress the higher he gets. Your stomach clenches when his hands come to caress the back of your thighs and make their way over your behind. In one swift motion, Art shoves his fingers into the waistband of your panties and tugs them harshly down your thighs.

His name tumbles out of your mouth in a gasp. He lightly hums to himself as he rids you of the extra material, and you don’t notice him place them into his pocket because your eyes are shut tight at the feeling of his wet mouth trailing up your thigh again.

When you feel a puff of warm air hit your lips, your eyes fly open, and you instinctively grip your dress to get a better look. Art’s eyes are closed as he unabashedly inhales your scent. After a particularly deep breath, his tongue comes out to lick against your folds. He releases a shaky exhale that tickles your clit. His blue eyes open up to peer at you, silently pleading for permission. You could almost laugh at the ridiculousness of him needing your permission when he’s already fucked you once and just forced himself between your legs, literally yanking your underwear down.

Still, he waits with his mouth mere centimeters from your heat, glassy eyes wide, looking to you to grant him this.

It’s possibly the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. You place your fingers in his hair firmly and lower yourself onto his waiting mouth. The groan Art releases into your pussy resonates through your entire core. Your head falls back against the door as he begins to eat your cunt like he’s been starving for it.

He hungrily laps at your soaking entrance, dragging his tongue up to your clit and back again. He’s a messy eater. Letting your juices coat his chin without a care in the world. Shoving his tongue so deep into you that his nose is flush with you. It makes your stomach flutter. The intensity and risk of being caught transports you to a time when you might’ve hid in a closet with your high school crush. Except the head was never this good.

You’re grinding your swollen clit into his nose as his tongue fucks into your hole when he grabs your thigh, placing it over his shoulder. The position lets him shove his face deeper into the apex of your thighs, moaning against you. At this rate, you’re not sure who’s enjoying this more. You start to feel dizzy, your senses overwhelmed with the feel of Art’s tongue and the sound of his groaning mixed with filthy slurping noises. It’s obscene the way he’s switching between licking into your hole and sucking at your clit.

“Ah-Art I’m gonna—,”

“Mmhm,” he nods into your cunt. He’s lost in it. He’s gripping your ass, kneading the flesh, when his tongue dips downward. He spreads your cheeks. You jolt when you feel something hot and wet swirl around your tight muscle. You’re surprised at how good it feels, your ex would never have done that to you.

Your mouth falls open. “Oh godddd,” you’re tugging his hair, pulling his ears, anything your hands can find purchase on.

Your thighs tremble as Art mercilessly sucks on your clit. The orgasm that washes over you has you lifting your back off the wooden door, vision gone black.

Art doesn’t let up. You have to push his head away from you to get him to release your overstimulated clit. He stumbles back on his heels, thighs spread, with a giant grin on his face. His chin is glistening and his lips are swollen and red. As you work to catch your breath, you notice that the front of his pants are soaked.

ᯓ

Art sends you out first. He has to change his jeans after he basically came from merely eating you out. The thought makes you giggle.

When you get to the table, only Patrick is there. You sit down, but you must look confused because he tells you Tashi had to take a call.

You nod.

“She left pretty soon after you went inside.” He takes a puff from his cigarette.

“Okay,” you say and smooth out your dress.

He blows out a cloud of smoke and tilts his head. He smiles at you like he knows exactly what you’ve been up to.

It makes you gulp.

“Where’s Art?” He asks, eyes twinkling.

“I uh…I don’t know,” you lie. “He disappeared after he showed me to the bathroom.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Oh.”

You can’t take the scrutiny. To keep from fidgeting with your hands, you reach for your neglected mimosa and take a sip.

Patrick puts out his cigarette. He looks over to the kids who are now taking turns throwing pebbles across the pond. It looks like Lily is beating Kaleb, but he’s determined to throw his further.

Patrick’s voice cuts through the air. “Hey.” He leans forward on his elbows and smirks, “was he good?”

You cough. “What?”

He laughs at your sputtering. “Oh my god. You let him fuck you, didn’t you??”

“Excuse me!” You look at him aghast.

“Oh come on,” he slightly sobers up. “I can keep a secret.” He mimics a zipper on his lips.

Thankfully, Art decides to finally rejoin you, saving you from having to respond to Patrick’s interrogation.

He sits down in the seat beside you, placing his hand on your thigh under the table. “He’s not bothering you, is he?” But he looks at Patrick as he asks the question.

Patrick scoffs. “No, we were just talking.”

Art looks at you as if to ask you to confirm. So, you nod. “Mmhm, everything’s fine.”

He looks you over then leans back in his seat, relenting. “So, where’s Tashi?”

As if on cue, you hear the door on the opposite side of the patio open as Tashi lets out a sigh. She plops down in her seat across from Art.

“I swear if I want shit done right I have to do it myself.”

She goes on to complain about how her team had fucked up Patrick’s upcoming campaign. If you’re being honest, the conversation is the last thing on your mind right now. Their voices fade out as you get stuck in your head.

You wonder just how much Patrick knew about you and Art. Had Art told him? Had he bragged about how easy you were to his best friend? Is that why Patrick’s been hitting on you all day?

It dawns on you that Art and Patrick might think you’re just a slut. The thought makes your stomach twist in humiliation. But some part of you feels excited by the idea. The thought that you could exist as a free sexual being. God is this what happens when you’re divorced and sexually dissatisfied for years?

The sound of someone clearing their throat steals you from your thoughts. You look up to see all three of them staring at you expectantly.

“I’m sorry?”

Art chuckles at your blatant inattention. It reminds him of the way you’d zone out when the PTA meetings ran over and Nancy couldn’t stop yapping.

“I promise, we do talk about more than just tennis.”

“Oh it’s fine,” you shrug.

Patrick laughs. “He’s lying. Neither of them can hold a conversation without bringing up tennis.”

Tashi rolls her eyes in his direction. “Patrick, you shouldn’t even be here right now. Shut up.”

You try to stifle your giggle at her dismissal of Patrick. Though her words drip with disdain, they lack any real malice. And if anything, Patrick’s smile grows wider the deeper she furrows her brows. You figure their bickering must also be characteristic of their tennis relationship.

“Also, I just know he was probably annoying the hell out of you while I was gone.” She tips her glass in Art’s direction. “Art here can barely keep him in check.”

“Okay, that’s not—“

Before Art can defend himself, Patrick cuts in. “Actually, I was just asking her out on a date,” he smirks at you. “Isn’t that right?”

His smile is daring you to disagree, and you realize he’s challenging you.

You clear your throat. “Yeah he did,” you say, peeking at Art. He looks like a disapproving father. Arms folded and mouth set in a hard line. “And I told him no,” you continue. “Because right now, I’m not interested in dating. I’d rather focus on me and my kid.”

Tashi smirks. “Yeah Patrick, no one needs your parasitic ass preying on them once they’ve already ditched deadweight.” She must realize her bluntness as her eyes lift to yours. “Sorry, I’m just saying.”

“It’s alright,” you laugh. Your ex was deadweight. You find yourself staring at your clasped hands. Your amusement at her comment had been genuine, but that’s the problem. For someone that just fucked this woman’s husband, you’re a little too comfortable in Tashi’s presence. Your lack of all encompassing guilt is concerning. Maybe it’s because you’ve had three mimosas.

Yeah. It’s definitely the mimosas.

You suppose that once reality sets in, it may all come crashing down on you. So, you enjoy the feeling for now. Besides, after lunch today, you intend to never sleep with Art Donaldson again.

ᯓ

Following that Saturday lunch, you proceed to fuck Art Donaldson after almost every PTA meeting. You two find yourselves in the back of your car screwing like rabbits with your clothes halfway on or in the front seat of his, you riding him while he tries not to slam you into the dashboard.

The night you have to throw Kaleb’s booster seat into the front as Art works to pull down your pants from behind is the night you decide this can no longer go on. Or more specifically, that fucking in a car is impractical.

Art convinces you to meet him at a hotel instead. You two get the same room each time, and even though you promise that you’re going to stop, you find yourself checking into that hotel room every weekend. If not there, Art comes to your place. It becomes your regular form of self care after a long week of work.

Kaleb has to start spending time with his father anyway, so you let him have Saturdays and Sundays. If nothing makes you feel better about your son hanging out with your ex and his new fiancée, it’s being able to forget it all with Art.

Unfortunately, the guilt begins to build a home for itself in your gut. Any time you aren’t being fucked by Art, you’re beating yourself up about it, swearing that you’ll never let it happen again. Never in your life have you experienced this much anguish over something. Yet, it’s a fascinating cycle of faux repression. The way you deny yourself out of some self-righteous need to be perceived as a good person, only to eventually give into your true desires when being a good person makes you feel utterly miserable.

It’s almost the same every time. Art will reach out to you. You tell him never to dial your number again. You feel bad, so you go to apologize. Then, you inevitably fuck him. But you hate yourself for fucking him, but you do it again because his cock is the only thing that makes you feel better.

It’s utterly ridiculous.

It’s also ridiculous that you can’t set firm boundaries with him. After the first hotel meeting, you nearly cried when you woke up cocooned within his arms. It was wrong. You’d already slept with him, cuddling was too far. It was too domestic.

You told yourself you wouldn’t let that happen anymore.

Yet, here you are again, trapped beneath his muscled arm. Except this time, he’s in your bed. And his face is buried in the crook of your neck, his mouth slightly parted for his warm breath to kiss your skin. The rise and fall of his chest against your back threatens to lull you back to sleep. You fight your heavy eyelids and shuffle to raise Art’s arm enough to slip out of.

You prop yourself against the headboard and stare out of the window. The leaves are starting to lose their green hue, and some have already fallen to the ground. Fall has always been your favorite time of year. Though the change in season isn’t as dramatic as the melting of icicles going into spring, the transition from summer heat to autumn has a way of slipping up on you.

One day, it’s unbearably hot, and you’re dreaming of when the air might catch a cool breeze, and the next, you’re reaching for a jacket because, though the days are still warm, the nights are getting cooler. And then one day, you’re peering out of your window to see that the leaves have changed color, and they’ve all fallen.

When you look back at Art, his blue eyes are already staring back at you. You wonder when he woke up. He has that small sleepy smile on his face, and his eyes are slightly swollen, and he’s reaching to wrap his arms around your waist and nuzzle his head into your lap. And you glance at the leaves from the trees and realize they aren’t the only ones that have fallen.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

a/n: let me know what you guys think of this part! I think I have about two more parts for pta!Art and reader because a bit of drama is about to unfold. *rubs hands together like an insect*

Part iii