#35th floor

[daigah]

Found $20 on the ground might be my sign to go to the comic shop tomorrow

[deactigayted]

i just had the worst nightmare about my new office job. IRL the building is set up as a big circle, with long halls lined with doors, bookcases, or tall desks, and i'm one of the last people there. in my nightmare i kept hearing things like someone ripping a piece of tape or dropping a book all the way at the end of the building and when i would go out in the hall i'd see a white, featureless head peaking out a door but if i went after it it would be gone. also after i would go to investigate the sounds would come from the other end. i've worked there four days and my brain is already perfectly capturing how dark the offices get and how sound echoes when the building is empty!

is this an omen lol

[academyoftheheartandmind]

Quilt of Life and Other Poems

Quilt of Life and Other Poems

By Petrouchka Alexieva Quilt of Life (To Mom and Dad) “Please, stay. Let’s make this life together!” My father said to my mom in the morning. This is what life is, a colorful quilt – In size that we can make it by choice. Every piece has its story; every color is a season of love, Happiness or some sorrows, and disappointments When something doesn’t fit perfectly on the corners, But it can be…

[manszen]

long distance situationship

pairing. fem!reader x vinsmoke sanji.

summary. you yearn for a certain blond pirate to come back home to baratie.

contains. fluffy angst, comfort at the end, whole cake island spoilers, told from the reader’s pov.

word count. 1.1k.

note. i really adore sanji and zeff's familial bond.

the loud commotion from your workmates inside the cramped kitchen of baratie draws you away from your dish plating.

“it’s here!”

“let me see! let me see!”

“how much is it this time?”

“i bet he tried his best to look cool. he looks like an idiot with the last one,” patty who’s next to you whispers down on your ear. he wipes his hand with a kitchen towel, a fond smile on his lips.

you laugh quietly at him.

“eh? what’s this?!”

you lift your head, a tad surprised. carne’s shrieks sound too shell-shocked for someone who claims over and over again that he doesn’t care at all about sanji.

“the bastard is a vinsmoke?!”

at that exact moment, zeff enters the room. his wooden leg clicking against the kitchen floor, effectively silencing the gasps of surprise of his workers.

“figures,” he quips after gaining everybody’s attention. “what’s the boy’s bounty now?”

“it’s 330 million berries,” carne announces, raising sanji’s wanted poster up in the air. his other hand grasping the rest of the newspaper. “they still used his old photo, though.”

“that perverted face of his again?”

you let out a small giggle and everybody turns their heads to you. as if with one accord, they all smile knowingly. even zeff, the baratie’s owner, appears thoughtful.

the kitchen suddenly feels warmer than usual.

“his photo isn’t so bad,” you mumble, trying to brush off their teasing looks.

“says the girl who collects his wanted posters before owner zeff can,” patty chimes in. you have this crazy urge to scream at him for exposing you like this until carne clears his throat, reading the newspaper article out loud.

“it says: ‘the vinsmoke and charlotte families entered into a political alliance via marriage between the third vinsmoke son, sanji, and the 35th charlotte daughter, pudding’.”

oh.

patty, zeff, as well as the others, wince when they hear carne’s announcement. you’re grateful they don’t say anything more about the matter, but you don’t give them time to say something anyway, since you’re already turning your back and resuming your work.

“say no more,” you hear zeff say to carne. “i believe sanji wouldn’t marry someone so easily. at least, without my approval.”

something heavy lodges in your throat right then. you mutter a cryptic excuse, weaving your way outside the kitchen doors and rushing to the safety of the girl’s restroom before anyone else can grab a hold of you.

anyone who works in baratie knows about your little infatuation. they’re not against it, but they’re not extremely supportive of it either. it’s just… it’s sanji that you’re head over heels with.

sanji who plays it cool and thinks before he acts.

sanji who deeply cares for almost everyone in baratie.

sanji who respects food more than anything else.

sanji whose only fault is that he’s borderline crazy when it comes to women.

you know exactly how crazy and submissive he is with women.

you aren’t an exception to that rule either. he proved that to you one late night as you both wash the rest of dishes after closing baratie.

he said a lady shouldn’t soak her hands in dishwashing soap for a long time, that you should let him do the rest. to which you only bumped his shoulder, joking that if he treats you the same way he treats his female customers, you’d feel somewhat special.

and his response?

‘you are special. and to me, you’re extra special.’

it might seem normal for him to compliment a woman, but you, on the other hand, are not used to it. growing up with nothing but irresponsible men around you, it’s only tough love that you’ve ever known.

that’s when you start to see sanji in a different light, with the intention to suppress it for as long as you could simply because you’re terrified of your own feelings.

you’re terrified of your feelings not being reciprocated.

although somehow, it has become an unspoken deal between you and sanji.

you start to seek each other’s company when your designated rooms feel too cold and lonely at night. you start to catch each other’s eyes during work hours, over tens of long kitchen counters, and smile shyly as you avert your gazes. you even start becoming touchy, leaning your body against him when he wants you to try some of his cooking, and while he’s shaking with exhilaration, he doesn’t make a huge scene out of it in hopes you two won’t be found out by zeff.

you start to get this fuzzy feeling the two of you are finally onto something.

but, as fate would have it, sanji got recruited by a man named luffy, claiming that he needs the best cook out there if he’s going to be the king of pirates.

and who are you to hold sanji back?

you kept your mouth shut as he told you his final decision, tucking away your own selfish desire to not let him go. you patted his shoulder, bravely smiling that he should follow his heart and see where it takes him. and he gave you one of his boyish grins, whispering thank you for being so understanding.

you promised yourself back then that you wouldn’t be the very reason who would break that smile.

you close your eyes and lean back against the restroom door, reminding yourself that he's still in the process of chasing after his dream — his childhood dream. after all that, he will be back in baratie in no time.

you just didn’t think you would find his name on the news with the word ‘marriage’ attached to it, that’s all.

a gentle rap at the door knocks you back to your senses.

“there are customers waiting to be served,” comes zeff’s soft warning. “forget that shitty kid. you deserve better.”

you snort. even if he says those harsh words at sanji, it’s still laced with fatherly affection. the impression brings a soft smile to your face.

“hey, owner zeff,” you begin. it seems that speaking with a thick door in between you and your employer helps. “do you think… do you think he’ll come back?”

“hmp. do you really think he won’t? the boy might be stupid but he’s not stupid enough to forget where his heart is.”

his words make you feel a hundred times lighter. “so baratie is where his heart is?”

the silence stretches on from the other side of the door you’d think zeff has already walked away. until he says with a warm voice, “you are where that boy’s heart is.”

stealing, modifying, translating, or reposting this work on other platforms is strictly discouraged.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Elementary Drabble Idea

reader doesn’t drink often and one night at the request of the Miller brothers they go out drinking (Sarah spending the night elsewhere of course) and the reader gets plastered because they’re a light weight. So Joel doesn’t drink as much and takes care of reader and Tommy!

The Night Out

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader (Elementary-verse)

rating: M (alcohol consumption, suggestive language/themes, mild descriptions of vomit at the very end)

wc: <1k

series masterlist | joel masterlist

Aside from the occasional bottle of wine shared with Joel after a tough week, you almost never drank. Not compared to Joel, and especially not compared to Tommy. But, tonight was Tommy’s 35th birthday, and he took it upon himself to convince his parents to watch Sarah for the night so that both of you could come out to his “party” thrown at his favorite bar.

The bar was western themed, forcing Joel to throw on a pair of boots he hadn’t touched since he was in his twenties. You also got into the spirit, throwing on a pair of boots, some denim shorts, and a cowboy hat you borrowed from Joel’s mother.

“Lord have mercy,” Joel whistled at you as you walked downstairs in your getup, earning an eye roll.

“Ha-ha,” you snarked as you grabbed your purse off the kitchen table. Joel appeared behind you, his hands resting on your hips as he pulled you back against him, his lips finding your neck. Your head pulled back against his shoulder, a grin growing on your face as he mumbled filthy words into your ear about how good you looked tonight.

“It ain’t right…you goin’ out lookin’ like this. Gonna have to watch you all night to make sure you ain’t swept away from under my feet,” he mumbled. You turned in his arms and draped your elbows over his shoulder, smiling up at him with a tilted head.

“You know there’s only one cowboy I’m going home with tonight,” you purred. “And right now he’s making us late for his brothers birthday so we need to go.”

“Yes ma’am. Whatever you say, just as long as you keep swayin’ your hips like that,” he replied from behind you, watching you as you walked out of the house in front of him.

Joel couldn’t keep himself from you all night, his hands constantly finding your hips as you tried your best to loosen up and dance. Tommy was excellent at persuasion, convincing you to take shots with him and the rest of his wild hearted friends. As soon as Joel noticed you had well crossed over the line of tipsy and into drunk, he cut himself off, wanting to be coherent so that he could make sure you were good.

You don’t remember much, just pawing at your boyfriend every chance you could get and whispering sinful, naughty things into his ear that you’d never have the courage to say sober. Joel forced himself not to get too riled up over your forwardness, though with every brush of your whiskey coated lips against his earlobe he found his resolve crumbling more and more.

You pulled him on the dance floor for the last song as the bartender announced last call, Joel happy to finally get you home and in bed, even if he wasn’t going to get to have you tonight in your nearly-blacked out state. He wanted you alone, away from all these hungry eyes intent on devouring your from a distance since they couldn’t get up close.

By the time he managed to coax you out into the truck, he was sober and tired, but that smile of yours as you sat in the passenger seat with your head out the window was worth the exhaustion. He loved to see you let loose, though he knew in the morning you were sure to regret it.

He stopped at the McDonalds near your neighborhood, ordering you your usual plus a McFlurry. He laughed as he tried to fight you off from giving him road head in the drive-thru, your drunken mumbles about him being the only man to deserve it pulling the kind of goofy laughter out of him that he hadn’t heard himself utter in years.

After successfully distracting you with your food, he was able to get the two of you back to your place in no time. He ate with you before taking you to shower, the two of you choosing to makeout against the tile wall rather than actually get clean. Eventually, the two of you stepped out of the shower and threw on some pajamas before running through your nighttime routine. Joel watched with a sleepy smile as you went through your skin care drunkenly, your hands sloppier than normal as they rubbed in your moisturizer.

“Impressive,” he chuckled from behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist. “Most I do for myself after a night of drinkin’ is have the sense to go piss before I fall into bed.”

“Some of us don’t wake up naturally gorgeous like you, Miller,” you hiccuped as you washed your hands. “Ugh, I think…think things are taking a turn. I feel it in my belly.”

“Oh, no,” Joel winced and lifted the toilet seat just in time for you to throw up your entire night into it. He remained beside you, rubbing your back through it all. “Maybe you’re not a party animal after all.”

“Maybe,” you croaked. “But I still gave Tommy a run for his money.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a laugh. “My little drinker.”

A new wave hit you and splashed into the bowl, making you groan in between heaves.

“Never. Again.”

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[cherrycola27]

Man to Make Me Sweat

Pairing: Rooster x Reader (Call Sign: Moxie)

Warnings: Language, Smut, so much smut, porn with plot. Age Gap, Choking, Spanking, Orgasm Denial, Over stimulation, Authority Kink.

Shout out to @thedroneranger for beta reading and listening to my word vomit! This fic was inspired by the Leslie Powell song "Man to Make Me Sweat"

"Guys thank you so much for helping me plan this!" You sqeual at the people infront of you. Rooster's 35th birthday was coming up and you had planned a surprise party with the help of the Dagger Squad, Maverick and Penny, who had agreed to shut the Hard Deck down for the party.

"You know Rooster hates his birthday." Phoenix piped up. "Yes I know, but I'm hoping my little surprise for him will change that." You smirked.

While you were a fellow Navy pilot, you hadn't crossed paths much with the Daggers until you had met Phoenix at a Pole dancing class.

You two instantly hit it off, and she had invited you out to get drinks with them the next night, that's when you met Rooster, and the rest was history. While it was no secret that you and Phoenix took the class together, Rooster had never seen you dance for him, and tomorrow that was about to change.

Phoenix had helped you choreograph a lap dance to one of your favorite songs and you were going to surprise Rooster with it.

Sure it might be a little embarrassing for your coworkers to see your moves, but you wanted your boyfriend to feel extra special for his birthday. You joked that he was going to officially be an old man, to which he defend that there was only a five year age gap between the two of you.

"Well Moxie, if Rooster doesn't appreciate, I know I will" Hangman smirked at you, causing Phoenix to promptly smack him on the back of his head.

"Ow Nix, what the hell?" He grimaced.

"Comments like that are why you don't have a girlfriend and why I have to convince Rooster not to murder you almost everyday." Phoenix responded.

"Okay children enough fighting. Boys I need you guys to go get Rooster and bring him here in one hour. Phoenix and Bob and I are going to finish setting up. Payback since you are the most... responsible of the group, please text me when you are five minutes out." You state before everyone leaves.

An hour later you were hiding behind the stage curtain you had set up. Rooster had been pouting saying how it wasn't fair that his girl wasn't there for his party because you had to work late... boy was he in for a surprise.

Hangman and Coyote had managed to convince him to sit in the strategicly placed chair you had set out.

"And now ladies and gents, Rooster's of all ages, please put your hands together for a very special performance by our very own Moxie!" Phoenix said into the microphone to the group before the music started. You had chosen one of your favorite songs "Man to Make Me Sweat" to do your routine too.

You stepped out onto the stage wearing one of Rooster's Hawiian shirts, a pair of aviator sunglasses, a white crop top and some cut off shorts.

His eyes went wide at the sight of you while the rest of the room of testosterone filled pilots howled and wolf whistled. You noticed Bob over in to corner looking like we was ready to throw Holy Water on everyone.

The first verse started and you began your dance, swaying your body to the beat, flipping your hair and keeping eye contact with Rooster.

You trailed your hands up his thighs and jerked him forward by his dog tags.

When the first chorus began you roughly dropped onto his lap and ground your hips against him. You flipped your hair and pressed your breasts in his face.

You watched him lick his lips as you dropped to the floor for the second verse. Slowly you crawled up his body and guided his hands to touch you.

By the time the second chorus came around you were shamelessly grinding on his now very hard cock as he fondled you.

When the song ended you were both panting while everyone cheered.

Rooster pulled you close and whispered in your ear.

"I'm taking you home right now to show you just how much I can make you sweat Moxie.

Forty minutes later, Rooster was emerging from your thighs after giving you your third orgasm of the night

You can't help but smile. You love it when Rooster gets like this, needy, possessive, primal.

When you first got together everyone gave you shit for dating someone who was almost six years older than you. Several of your civilian friends teased you for having daddy issues or if servicing the elderly was part of your job in the Navy. You just rolled your eyes at their comments, many of them dated men their age or younger, they didn't know what they were missing out on.

No one had ever fucked you like Rooster did, and as your relationship progressed, you didn't hesitate to let your friends know that your "old man" kept you very satisfied while their "younger models" couldn't keep up.

You were finally coming down from you high, but you still weren't satisfied. You wanted to see how far you could push him. Rooster crawled up your body leaving sloppy wet kisses in his wake. His mustache scraped your sensitive skin causing you to tremble.

You felt the fat head of his cock pressing into your slick entrance, and with one fluid motion Rooster was buried in you to the hilt.

"Always so fucking tight for me Moxie. It's like you cunt was made for me." He groaned out before setting a steady rhythm. His fingers flexed against your hips as he drove into you. You could feel his blunt nails digging into your skin.

It always felt so good when he took you, but you wanted his birthday sex to be extra special. You knew he was desperate for you, to mark you, to claim you. Especially after your little show at the Hard Deck, so, you pushed.

"It's that all you've got Old Man?" You moaned out.

His hips stopped suddenly.

"Old Man?" He grunts out while he is still inside you.

You smirk back up at him as he pulls all the way out and slams back into you causing you to arch up.

"You say Old Man like its a bad thing... you think someone younger could fuck you like I do sweetheart? I doubt they could make you cum three times before they even got inside you" He tells you as he picks up the pace. A groan leaves your lips has he drags his cock over your g-spot, the head of it hitting it with each hard stroke.

"I don't know babe, Hangman talks a big game." You shoot back at him.

A low rumble leaves his chest as he pulls out and swiftly flips you over. He pushes your face down into the mattress and has your ass up the in air on display for him.

His large hand makes contact with it causing you to yelp from pleasure and pain.

Rooster fists your hair and and jerks your head up before whispering in your ear. "Moxie baby, I'm only going to tell you this once. Don't ever say his name while I've got you naked ever again. You want to see what this old man's got... I'll show you exactly what this 'old man' is made of, I'll have you so fucked out and cock drunk you won't be able to walk straight for a week darlin"

You knew you had him right where you wanted him, but you were feeling extra bratty so without thinking of the consequences you uttered "Well, what are you waiting for old man, prove it."

That set Rooster a blaze. He roughly palmed your ass before smacking it again. Without warning he plunged himself into you. His hips pistoned against yours quickly driving you to another peak.

"Oh fuck yes Rooster, just like that" you cried out as your hands fisted the sheets. You desperately tried to meet his thrusts but he held you firmly in place.

"Guess I should have known you were a brat with a call sign like Moxie." He grunted out. His fingers dug deeper into your sides as you clamped down on him. You were so close, your body hummed, and just as you were about to fall, he abruptly pulled out.

"Bradley no..." You whined as your chest heaved.

"You didn't really think I was going to let you get away with calling me an old man with out punishment did you sweetheart?" He purred in your ear as he rubbed himself between your folds.

"I'm sorry Rooster, I was just teasing you sir." You groaned, hoping it would cause him to give in, you knew he had an authority kink.

"Have you learned your lesson Moxie?" He asked.

"Yes Sir I promise I have." You stated shaking your head.

This seemed to please him because he pushed back into you. Starting slow and working back up.

You whined and squirmed beneath him. You were even more wound up than before. Each thrust of his hips sent a delicious pleasure through you.

You could feel the tightening in your belly and your toes curling. Rooster's breath was ragged as he pushed both of you to the finish. One of his hands left your hips and made its way to your hair, grabbing it and snapping your head up. You were at his mercy and you were totally okay with that.

"Yes Bradley, right there I'm so close." You moaned out. You could feel your finish, you were so close you could taste it and then... he stopped again.

"Fuck... please...Rooster... please." You groaned.

"If you want to cum baby girl, you're going to have to be more convincing. I don't think you've learned your lesson." He mocked you.

"I promise I have, I'm sorry, I'll be a good girl Bradley, please, please, please let me cum" you babbled. You feel the hot prick of tears in your eyes. He was still deep inside you. You flexed around him causing him to hiss.

That earn you another spank. "Such a fucking needy brat." He said dropping his hand from your hair and curling it around your throat. He pulled you flush against him.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" He whispered in your ear before sinking his teeth into your lobe.

"Only for you sir. I promise I'll be your good girl. Please let me cum." You pleaded with him as tears began to slide down your face.

That seemed to make him have mercy on you. Rooster once again began thrusting into you. This time he didn't hold back, this thrust were hard and demanding. The head of his cock kissed your cervix with each one.

His hand dropped from your throat and went to your clit were he drew tight circles on it. You were so, so close after being wound up and let down twice.

"Rooster please, I'm so close... please... don't stop" you begged.

"I can feel how close you are... I know how bad you need to cum. Just say the magic word darling and I will give you what you want." He cooed to you.

Your bratty side had gone to his head and now he was on a power trip. You knew what he wanted, and he knew you were desperate but you still refused to give it.

"Please sir, let me be your good girl and cum for you. Let me cum all over your cock." You moaned.

"While that sounds amazing honey, those aren't the words I'm looking for." He shot back.

"Rooster—please!" You shouted as he gave a particularly hard thrust.

He laughed.

"Say it. Come on princess I know you're dying to cum. You're the one who keeps torturing yourself. Quit. Being. So. Fucking. Stubborn. And. Say. It." He punctuated each word with a hard snap of his hips.

You let out a pathetic whimper as the small trickle of tears turned into a stream.

"DADDY PLEASE!" You screamed throwing your head back. You couldn't take it anymore.

"That's right. That's my girl." He praised you.

Rooster picked up his efforts, pounding into you erratically while his finger worked your clit.

"Oh fuck Daddy I'm so close please don't stop." You begged him, you knew if he did stop you wouldn't be able to handle it.

"Daddy isn't going to stop until you cum all over him Princess. Come in baby I know how bad you need to. Be a good girl and cum for Daddy." He moaned in your ear.

Your chest was heaving and your heart was racing, you felt overwhelmed everything was too much and not enough at the same time. Your body was wound tight. A rubber band waiting to snap. Rooster continued his assault, pushing you further and futher toward your pleasure. His hand on your hip came across your chest and pulled you impossibly closer to him.

His lips found your ear as he panted out "Cum for me." It wasn't a statement, it was a demand, and it was all you needed to finish.

Your body shook as pleasure coursed through you, covering his cock, your thighs, his thighs, and the sheets.

"YesyesyesohyesDaddy" you babbled out as your body trembled against him.

Rooster followed closely behind you, filling you to the brim and spilling out, his release mixing with your own.

You both collapsed against the bed, thoroughly spent. It took you both several minutes to regain your composure.

You turned over in his arms to face him.

"How was that for an Old Man?" He joked. "S'good" you slurred, your body still coming down from the high.

"Happy Birthday." You murmured snuggling close to him.

"Thank you baby. How about we get a nice hot bath and get cleaned up and then change the sheets before bed? We made a mess." He said before pressing a kiss to your hair line.

"Sounds good Roo." You mumbled into his chest as he picked you up and carried you to the bathroom.

He drew a hot bath and gently set you in before climbing in behind you. You relaxed against his chest.

"Roos, you may be an old man, but I'm glad your mine." You sighed against him.

"I'm glad I'm your old man to baby." He grinned before relaxing further into the hot water.

Tag List: @dreamingathighaltitude @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mak-32 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @rosiahills22 @thedroneranger @roosterforme

Likes are great but I appreciate reblogs and comment too!

Also would we like to see more or Moxie... let me know!

[hometoursandotherstuff]

It’s hard to believe that homes like this even exist in New York City. This 1901 mansion has 12bd. 12ba. and is listed for $33M.

I can’t even imagine walking into this and calling it home. 

Look at all this vintage marble.

Now, this is a sitting room.

And, this is a proper library or office.

I see an elevator on the left. Let us move to the dining room. 

I would imagine that the two urns wouldn’t convey as part of the fireplace.

These halls!

This bar room is beautiful.

This place is huge.

And, look at this floor’s landing.

This must be the main bd.

This looks like a sitting room.

Wow. Nice bath.

Looks like all the bds. are like main ones.

Nice little breakfast room opens to the garden.

The beautiful garden.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/123-E-35th-St-New-York-NY-10016/2064326472_zpid/

[muddypyro]

jumping right to the very best from the glaze firing disaster that made a mess of my kiln;

there are no words to express my undying love of REE's in crystalline glazes. and this first attempt using a new element truly made up for putting my livelihood on hold, fucking up my kiln AND getting covid during my 35th birthday and thanksgiving...

let's investigate with some close-ups;

*bites lip seductively*

iridescent triangular crystals? say it ain't so...

*drops to floor twerking in appreciation*

officially naming this glaze test

Unicorn Cum

i am in love.

[palmtreepalmtree]

Had drinks last night in the rotating bar on the 35th floor of the Bonaventure hotel. It's a bit of a throwback experience since it's been so long since it's been a thing. The hotel has lost a lot of its luster over the years. Pretty overpriced now, but it's DTLA so it's what I expect.

Views are still great.

[maknaesdancersrappers]

devoted 2.

part 15.

Overall warning/s: kinkier smut (eg. voyeurism, exhibitionism, etc.) character death, dark themes

Chapter warning/s: vulgar language, violence, self harm, stalking

Just how devoted is Jaehyun to you?

prev: part 14

wc: 8.8k

“18.”

A soft squeak came from the friction of a shoe and the floor. The figure froze, holding his breath to hear if anyone reacted to the noise he made. After a second, he relaxed and continued to go down the row of lockers surrounding him.

“18.” Jaehyun softly murmured to himself, silently reading the numbered, full length lockers as he passed by.

It bothered him that there were unmarked, presumably empty, lockers between all the numbered ones. Maybe it was an extra locker for the one before it? But there weren’t locks on them.

He finally reached the 18th locker — or rather, the 35th one if he counted correctly as he passed by.

He took out a key from his hoodie pocket. It was a bitch to get a hold of this, he recalled. Lucky for him, you had your keys haphazardly peeking out of your towel on the benches and he was able to “borrow” it for the meantime. His original plan was to have it duplicated, but there isn’t much time to do so.

He slid the key into the keyhole and unlocked it, leaving it to hang on there after he unhooked the lock.

You were at swim practice right now. Jaehyun memorized your schedule. For Tuesday and Fridays, you had swim practice from 5PM to 8PM. It’s around 7 right now so he had an hour to do whatever he wanted.

Inside your locker, you had your clothes after practice hung up on a hanger. On the shelves, you had your main backpack and on the lowest one were your shoes. He touched your clothes, dragging his finger down the soft cloth. He noted the lack of a jacket and internally scolded you for not having one if you were going home in this thin top. He reached for the hanger to get it but noticed something else hanging inside of your shirt.

His breath shortened.

It was cute that you wore matching sets. Today, you chose to wear a skin-toned set. Jaehyun groaned at the thought of you wearing nothing, sending an instant reaction to his dick. He unzipped your bag and reached inside, pulling out the clothes you had neatly put away after slipping onto your swimsuit. He bit down on his lip, flipping through the folds of cloth like a book until he found it: your panties — your used panties.

It was a black cheeky panty with the daintiest little ribbon sewn on the front hem. He seemingly kneaded the fabric in his palm, debating on his next action. Without another second passing by, he brought it up to his nose and inhaled deeply. 

Sweet, he thought. You smelled sweet. The tent in his pants was becoming unbearable and just as he tried to pull his zipper down, he heard voices and footsteps growing louder outside.

Jaehyun panicked, glancing down at his watch. It was barely 7:30, were they dismissed early?

As quickly as he had gotten the clothes, he put it all back and locked the locker with a few more seconds to spare, leaving the key on the lock. He couldn’t run out now, but that was the only exit. He looked down the opposite of the room and found unmarked lockers, surely he could fit in those.

Every higher being must be on his side today because the first locker he had opened was just right for him and the shelves were broken and laid upright. He scurried inside, realizing that he forgot to place your underwear back in with your clothes but the door swung open on the other side of the rows of lockers and he pushed himself inside, closing it a few seconds before someone rounded the corner.

And lo and behold, it was you.

Jaehyun held his breath, you were still wet and your towel just in your hands.

“Oh, thank god! I did, in fact, forget to take the key!” You called out, laughing to yourself.

Your teammates piled in as well, all going to their respective lockers.

“You’re such a clutz, [Y/N].” Sihyun shook her head at you.

You finally got around to drying yourself off, starting with your hair. “I really thought I got it after locking it. At least it didn’t fall elsewhere.”

“Imagine if it did, you’d be going home in your swimsuit.” Chaeyeon teased, pulling at the spandex and releasing it, leaving a wet smack on your back.

“Ow! Quit it!” You playfully scolded, “You’re telling me none of you guys would lend me clothes? Damn, and here I thought we were more than teammates.”

“I mean,” Hara shrugged, “I’ll lend you my clothes if you don’t mind that I've been wearing it all day. But what are you gonna do about underwear?”

You hummed, slipping off the top of your swimsuit to start drying your upper body. “If it happens, I could just wear my swimsuit then. Just wait for it to dry before I borrow your clothes.”

If you could only see Jaehyun right now, eyes wide and straining to see all of your exposed skin through the slits of the locker door. His mouth had gone dry when you had continued to push the swimsuit down your body and let it fall on the ground, pooling it around your ankles.

All your teammates were just as stark naked, but his eyes were fixated on you. Before he knew it, he had pulled his own pants down low enough to free himself and ran a fist over his length with your panties covering him.

There was some idle talk about something but Jaehyun couldn't care less. He had to bite his own tongue when you had turned your back on him and bent down to grab your swimsuit. His arm started to hurt at the rate he was going trying to jack off at the sight. You had presented your ass to him and maybe if the angle was better, he could get a glimpse of your pussy, too. The same pussy that had been pressed on the flimsy cloth he was using on himself. He groaned, softly and slowly, trying his absolute best to remain hidden and unknown to you and your teammates.

You slung your swimsuit over your shoulder and before you could head towards the shower area, Hara stopped you.

“Oh my god, are your boobs bigger?”

She reached out and cupped one of them, weighing it in her palm. Jaehyun was going insane.

The whole team was already so comfortable with being naked around each other that this was nothing to you.

“No, my period should be next week.” You informed her, “Ugh, I absolutely hate training during my period.”

“Girl,” Sihyun snorted, “Who does? No one likes bolting towards the showers once they get out of the pool.”

The conversation continued while you and your teammates head towards the shower to rinse off the chlorine, meanwhile Jaehyun slowed his arm movement. He was gasping for air, the tiny space was suffocating him. Your underwear was damp with precum and sweat in his hands.

He had to wait for all of you to leave before he could. He cracked the locker door a little to get more air and panted as he caught his breath. Seeing you in your full naked glory was something he wasn’t prepared for. Your skin looked so supple and soft. He wondered what it would have felt like to put your nipples in his mouth after they had hardened from the sudden exposure to air. He thought of your ass and how it must feel like to spank until it grew red. He was still very hard and his cock twitched at the thought. 

He closed the door quickly when he heard wet footsteps approaching, and right after he did so, you came around the corner.

Jaehyun held his breath again, putting his face closer to the slits to get a better look at you.

Unlike your teammates, you only really rinsed off after practice. You had already hung up your swimsuit in the designated area and once you had dried yourself, you hung your towel with it. Inside the locker room, you were very comfortable, much like the others, so you had no qualms walking back to your locker in your birthday suit.

But this meant giving Jaehyun another round of seeing your naked body.

He watched you open your locker and grab a bottle from inside and not long after, he had his panty clad fist running over his length again.

You liked to apply lotion after a shower and even though you were gonna take a proper bath at home, you still applied a generous amount of moisturizer to your body.

Squirting a good dollop onto your palm, you lathered it in your hands before spreading the viscous liquid all over your arms and legs. Training will always make your body ache so you also used this time to massage yourself.

“Ow.” You moaned, hitting a tender spot on your back, arching forward to stretch it.

In the locker, Jaehyun echoed your moan under his breath, wanting nothing more than to be the reason behind the music falling out of your mouth. He wanted to touch you so badly.

You reached down to smooth out the lotion to your legs and when you found it difficult, you propped it up on the bench.

Jaehyun gasped, his arm started to hurt again. You had spread your legs open just enough to grant him visual access to your core. He remembered how you smelled from your underwear and he imagined you sitting on his face, grinding yourself on his tongue. He imagined how much sweeter you were if it was his own nose and tongue prodding you.

He ejaculated into your used underwear and he felt it seeping through the already dampened cloth. He laid his head against the cool metal of the locker he was confined in and tried to catch his breath.

You slowed your movements, feeling a little heated. What if, you thought, someone was watching you right now? Watching you touch yourself wearing absolutely nothing. Would they be touching themselves? Were they enjoying the view? Involuntarily, you closed your legs. Ah, your hormones are getting the best of you.

You shook your head, smiling to yourself. Where could they possibly be watching from? The lockers? You looked down the room and stared at the slits of the locker directly across you — the locker Jaehyun was in.

He froze, thinking you had caught him, but then you leaned against your open locker door and sensually brought your hand from your thigh to your breast.

You sighed, things like that only happen in movies or bad pornos. You got your underwear from the hanger and began to slip it on. Besides, what grown adult would fit in these lockers? They’d be cramped up and you doubt the shelves could carry someone’s weight for too long.

Jaehyun was confused, although relieved. You had looked directly at him, he was sure of it. He wasn’t making it up in his head, was he? You even touched yourself while keeping eye contact. It was a short lived moment, but he was very certain you were about to touch yourself for him.

After slipping on your panties, you quickly put on your bra as well. Training was called off early as a treat and you wanted to get home earlier so you could slip in a quick episode on the latest series you’ve been hooked on. It’s almost 8 and at this point, it’s like training never ended early.

Jaehyun frowned, a little sad to know the show was over, but he’s not leaving completely disappointed. His only issue now is finding the right time to leave the locker room without getting caught and returning your underwear — because he realized you were going to freak out if something like this was missing. Luckily for him, you didn’t bother double checking the contents of your bag after throwing your clothes on.

“I’m heading out! You girls take care on the way home, okay?” You yelled, your voice bouncing off the walls and hiding the sound of Jaehyun’s phone vibrating.

“You, too! Take care! See you tomorrow!” Your teammates called out altogether.

Once you were out of sight, Jaehyun quickly checked his phone to see his bodyguard asking where he was. He was able to send a quick message of “Wait.” before hiding his phone to prevent the light peeking through the slits when he heard your teammates coming closer.

There were naked girls in front of him yet he stayed limp. Was something wrong with him? His friends would have been having a field day by now. But he realized the reason soon enough.

They weren’t you.

It was cold. Especially on one side of his body.

Jaehyun groaned, his entire being was sore. Where was he? Lethargically, he moved his hand over the cold, biting surface it was on. Was he on the floor?

He opened his eyes, blinking away the crust. Did he cry in his sleep?

Looking around, he tried to figure out what happened the night before. He was on the kitchen floor — of his old apartment. Why? His eyes fell on the item just a few inches away from his face. A ring.

Then it hit him like a truck. Everything that happened last night resurfaced in his head and his tears welled up again in his eyes. It wasn’t a dream. It all happened in reality.

“[Y/N]...” He rasped, mouth extremely dry.

He never felt so empty, yet his chest was so heavy. He couldn’t move his body, not even to hide the ring for safekeeping so it sat just there and mocked him. 

This could all have been avoided, it said.

“How?” Jaehyun whined, “Even if I just told her about the investigation… she would have still wanted to see the files…”

He remembered the said files that were right there on the dining table. Despite his body aching for sleeping on the floor, he pushes himself up to a sitting position. How much did you know? Surely it was just Go’s files you read? Maybe he can fix this.

He pocketed the ring and scrambled onto his feet, stumbling towards the table. He picked up a folder and opened it, skimming through the words. It’s just another set of all the reports Go gave him. Tossing it aside, he picks up another and does the same when he realizes what it was. Hope bloomed in him, he can fix this. He took his phone out from his back pocket, ignoring the messages and dialing your number. Before he could put it to his ear, he felt the table vibrate.

“Shit. Oh, [Y/N].” Jaehyun sighed, pushing back papers until he revealed your phone. “At least I can give this back to you myself.”

As he picked it up and debated on opening it, he noticed the folder it was recently perched on. He knew that logo embossed on the cream folder anywhere and all hope was leaving him as his blood ran cold. He pushed Go’s reports away and revealed more of the familiar logo-embossed folder.

Jeon’s Private Psychiatrist Clinic.

With urgency, he opened the first one and cussed out loud. 

“Fuck!”

How could anyone get any of these? Jeon is their family doctor — were these sent by someone in the family?

He browsed through more of them, a mix of shame, anger, regret, and hopelessness weighing down on him.

“She knows it all…” He murmured, “Shit, she knows everything.”

Jaehyun punched the table. He should have burned these… he should have never written about it, let alone submit it to Jeon for his psychiatric evaluation when he began therapy.

Everything he’s done from the moment he saw you, all of it written in great detail, in his own words; you had read every single one.

His shoulders slumped down, there’s no way he can come back from this. He’s not getting you back.

Jaehyun fell on the seat, laid his head on the table, and cried softly. What was he going to do now? He had built his world around you — for you. What was the point of everything now?

He sat up and looked at the window with wet, emotionless eyes. Nothing. 

He stood up and it knocked the chair back, but he didn’t pay attention to it. He can’t live without you.

It was almost noon. Were you preparing to have lunch right now? 

He made his way to the first bathroom, opened the lights, and stared at his face. He almost wanted to laugh. He looked like shit. He grew up learning to keep his appearance to be pristine as if he hadn’t sinned at all. He reached out, noting his knuckles were bruised but didn’t focus on it.

You used to be scared of looking at him through the mirror because of that night. He understood it now; the monster you feared.

“How could you do that?” He hissed, curling his fingers and landing a solid blow on his reflection. The mirror cracked on impact, creating a detailed web-like design.

“You don’t deserve her,” He punched the mirror once more, making a few shards chip off.

“You deserve to die.” A larger chunk fell on the sink and it reflected his entire face.

“You deserve to die.” Jaehyun repeated, picking the shard up with no hesitation and pressing it against his wrist.

It’s been years since he had felt like this — had been in this situation. When was it? Oh… it was the year before seeing you…

His father had hit him. He was caught doing drugs with his friends — no, the boys in his class he was forced to befriend because their families’ respective business could be potential investors or partners in their own — he was caught doing drugs with them at school. A teacher had caught and reprimanded them, reporting the issue straight to the principal. Their parents were called, arrangements were made, money was paid. The rumor stayed a rumor.

He had held his father in such high regard, he aspired to be like him. He wanted to be a powerful businessman like him. He wanted to find a woman like his mom and show her love like his father does to his mom. He loved his father just as much as he loved his mom, but that one crisp slap across his face had created a rift between them.

He remembered his mom crying at the sight, but his father’s yelling was burned into the back of his mind.

I didn’t raise you this way.

Jaehyun’s fingers twitched, reflecting light into his eyes that made him snap out of his reverie.

The glass shard was pressing hard against his skin, but it wasn’t breaking into it yet. His father’s words echoed in his head once more.

He pulled his arm back and stared at himself, he can’t do this. Not yet. He gripped at the broken glass, enough to cut and draw blood on his hand. He doesn’t know who sent you the files. He doesn’t know who harassed you. 

He doesn’t know who. took. you. from. him.

Jaehyun jumped slightly when the door abruptly opened, causing the piece of shrimp to slip from his chopstick’s grasp. He took a look a second to glance up but didn’t react to the newcomers, in fact, he looked dismayed.

“Oh, my baby!” His mom cried, running up to him and falling to her knees. “This is where you’ve been the past few days? What happened to your hand?”

“I’m fine, mom.” He grumbled, “Get off the floor, it’s dirty.”

She frowned, looking around at the mess of take-outs and empty cans of beer and soda, but didn't move to get up.

“Jaehyun, what the fuck are you doing?” His father scolded, heavy steps echoed in the room as he walked toward them. “You’ve neglected your work to bum around here?”

“I filed for leaves. They were approved.” Jaehyun shook his head, dismissively.

“Don’t use that tone on me.” His father marched forward and this made his mom stand up to block her husband. “You weren’t raised like this.”

He shot a look at his father, slamming the takeout box on the coffee table and standing up, “What would you do if mom had called off your engagement and walked out on you, huh? You’re telling me you would pretend nothing happened?”

His mom gasped, bringing a hand to her lips and the other on her chest to showcase her shock.

“Am I not allowed to grieve?” Jaehyun emphasized, pointedly staring his father down.

“Of course, you are—”

“Then let me grieve. Leave me alone.” He plopped himself back down on the armchair and reached for his drink.

“You insufferable brat.”

Jaehyun snorted, “Who raised me again?”

“Why, you—” His father seethed, stepping forward, and seeing this made Jaehyun stand back up to defend himself.

His mother got in between them, “Boys, please!”

“I’m acting like this exactly because I was raised like this,” Jaehyun pointed a finger at his father, “By you.”

“I raised you better than this.”

“You raised me to be mentally ill, father!” He retorted, voice straining. “She left me because instead of stopping me, you supported me — you let me have her investigated, let me believe that I can do anything in your power to have her.”

His mom gasped again, turning around to look up at her husband, “Jaegun, is that true?”

When his father met her gaze but kept his mouth shut, Jaehyun scoffed.

“Yes, mom, it’s true. He let me do what he did to you.”

“Shut up, Jaehyun.” He hissed through his teeth.

Jaehyun laughed, “What? Now you’re ashamed that you raised me this way?” 

His father tried to step forward again, but his mom put her hands on his chest.

“Honey, stop. We’ll talk about it later at home. We have more pressing concerns than this,” She looked back at Jaehyun and sighed, “Jaehyun, please. Listen to us.”

“I don’t want to work right now, if that’s what you’re here for.”

“You daft boy,” His father bellowed, “[Y/N] is missing.”

Jaehyun froze. He could feel blood draining from his face, yet his heartbeat started to drum loudly in his ears. “What?”

“Sweetheart,” His mom stepped forward and cupped his face, “Her parents couldn’t reach any of your phones so they contacted me. They told me that she never got home and it was unlike her to not tell her if she had left to be with you. When I told your father, he got worried as well. That’s when he told me about what’s happening — the gist of it at least.”

He doesn’t know how to react, eyes flitting towards your phone on the table. It’s been days — almost a week. He never bothered charging your phone so it had probably died before anyone could call it.

“She left it on the table when…” He paused, “When she walked out.”

“Your father had to lie to them and tell them you took her on a spontaneous trip out of the country.” She spoke so softly while she rubbed his cheeks with her thumb. “Sweetheart, you need to tell us if you know where she is.”

“I don’t.” He quickly denied, “I’ve been cooped in this room since she left. I don’t know where she is. I—I thought she went home to her parents all this time.”

“Well, if you had checked your phone, you would have found out 3 days ago that she didn’t.” His father quipped impatiently. “Her parents wanted to file a missing persons report, but I told them not to worry because I said she was safe with you. The last ping of her phone was here — that’s why we’re here.”

He looked around and scoffed, “At least I can rest easy knowing you didn’t do anything to her.”

“I would never hurt her!”

“Jaehyun!” His mom held him back from charging at his father, “Calm down, I know you won’t. I believe you, sweetheart. Please just calm down.”

The father and son stared each other down, tension building further in the air around them.

“Sweetheart,” His mom repeated, “Would you happen to know where else she could go? Another friend?”

“Doyoung? Minkyung? Kang Yebin? I-I don’t know, mom — I just… I just let her leave!”

His mom hushed him, nodding, “Okay, sweetheart. Tell me what happened before she left. Tell me everything.”

Jaehyun stared into her eyes, glanced at his father, and back at his mom. It was always hard lying to his mom. He could hide things from her, but if she was keeping eye contact with him, he couldn’t bear to lie to his mother.

“I…” He licked his lips, “I had her investigated and followed in the past— when we were younger, uhm, in high school…”

The disapproving frown on his mother’s face made him inwardly wince. But then realization hit his mom and he braced himself.

“[Y/N] is the girl… you were stalking back in high school?” Her eyes widened, “Jung Jaehyun…”

No matter how old he is, his skin will always crawl whenever his mom calls him by his full name.

“Honey,” His father cleared his throat, “It’s all on me. Jaehyun’s right. It’s my fault. We both told him off when we found out about the stalking, but when you left, I told him I can hire a private investigator for him for the girl.”

“How could you,” She turned his attention to him, “look into [Y/N]’s eyes and pretend that was the first you were meeting her when Jaehyun introduced her to us— wait, don’t bother answering. I shouldn’t be surprised in the first place.”

Jaehyun watched as his mother rubbed her temples before speaking up again.

“Honey, you promised me when Jaehyun was born, you were going to make sure he wasn’t going to grow up…”

“Like me?” His father sighed, “I know. I’m sorry, honey. We’ll talk about it later. We need to find [Y/N].”

“Right, sweetheart, come home with us. Uh, freshen up there and get a proper meal.” She scrunched her nose at Jaehyun and gestured at him and the discarded paper bags from his delivered meals.

He looked hesitant, eyes darting around the room.

“Sweetheart?”

“Fine.” He shook his head, walking to the dining table and grabbed both yours and his phone. “Father, can you have someone, uhm, collect… these.”

Without another word, his father was on his phone and speaking in a low tone before ending the call. “One of my men will take care of it. Come on. You smell like ass, I’m getting another car for you to ride.”

Jaehyun took his time in the shower, standing in the warmth a little longer even though he’s scrubbed himself clean of the sweat and grime his body accumulated after not bathing for days. 

“Sir,” A knock resounded from the bathroom door. “Your clothes from your home are here. We’ve set them in the closet.”

“Alright, thank you.” He responded, sighing at the servant’s words. Your home.

What he has is a house; an empty one, apartments in every region, and his room in his parent’s house — but none of them were home. His home is gone. His home is missing. But even if he finds it — even if he finds you — you aren't going to let him call you home anymore.

“Get a grip.” He grumbled to himself, shutting his eyes when it started to sting. “You need to focus.”

Jaehyun turned the shower off and wadded off to the walk-in closet, haphazardly toweling off the excess moisture off his body. The servants had laid out his clothes in categorized sections and he grabbed the first shirt and sweatpants on the respective piles. Once clothed, he shook his hair in the towel before discarding it in the laundry basket by the door and walked out to head to the living room.

In the living room, his parents were conversing with a man he recognized to be the Commissioner General — Yoon Yeongcheol. 

“Son, this is the Commissioner General, Yeongcheol. We went to school together.”

Is this how all our shit stays hidden? Jaehyun thought to himself.

They shook hands and sat down.

“I called him here because [Y/N] missing is a part of a much bigger case than we thought.”

“What do you mean?”

Yoon cleared his throat, “With the information I know so far as provided by your father, this —Ms. [Y/N] missing — all started from files from a private investigator named Go Hyunmo. It’s a breach of contract to have these files, or any work done by Go requested by your family, be given out to anybody else. Naturally, your father called him. When Go did not answer, he contacted me and I had my men go to his office and home to look for him.”

Yoon and his father shared an uneasy look.

“He’s dead, isn’t he.” Jaehyun said.

“By some luck, he’s not.” Yeongcheol scoffed, almost laughing. He brought a finger to his neck, pointing from one side to the other, “Neck was slit. There was blunt force trauma on the side of his head. Minimal signs of struggle. The perpetrator was a client; he must have struck Go on the head and it knocked him out cold. He slit his throat afterwards, but that woke Go up after because he started choking on his blood.”

Jaehyun’s mom recoiled and his father put a hand on her knee, “Honey, why don’t you go prepare some tea for us.”

She left without another word.

Once his mom was out of earshot, Jaehyun quietly asked, “Are you telling me that [Y/N] is with someone who tried to kill a man right now?”

“It’s likely that’s the case.”

“Jaehyun,” His father called, “Stay calm, son, and listen to Yeongcheol.”

“So this client asked for our files but got denied so he tried to kill Go?” Jaehyun gritted his teeth.

“No. The perpetrator had someone else investigated to get into Go’s private office and get access to his computer. We have reason to believe it wasn’t just [Y/N]’s information he had.” Yoon shook his head, “Does the name Choi Hajun ring a bell for you? The senator’s son?”

“He was my classmate in high school.” He shrugged his shoulders, confused, “Last I heard he was in jail.”

Yoon had an expandable file folder with him that he brought out and placed on the table, “He got bailed a few years back and he’s working for his father as a staff member. These are copies of the files Go dug up on him.”

He took out crisp, white pages from one section of the expander and laid it out on the table. Jaehyun’s pretty sure it should be illegal to have these, even if they were taken in as evidence from a crime scene.

“The perpetrator had records of him since high school — more importantly, when you two were in the same circle.”

“I was closer to the other guys compared to him, though.”

“Exactly.” Yoon nodded at his words, “You two didn’t get along. We suspect that whoever tried to kill Go wanted more information about Choi to get to you, maybe get information from that only Choi knew.”

Jaehyun pursed his lips, thinking of what Hajun could possibly reveal from his past. “Any information Hajun knows shouldn’t be that incriminating. Anything I did was started by him, it’ll backfire on him if he reveals anything.”

“I see. Well, we’ll be reaching out under Go’s case — maybe there’s a connection between the two of you that the suspect is after.” Yoon hesitated and Jaehyun pointed it out with annoyance. “Are you aware of the recent news of missing women all over the city?”

“Yes.”

“Well, initially, the police are stumped with the case. It seemed to be at random, but with Ms. [Y/N] now also potentially part of this —”

Jaehyun stopped him, “You think the same man is behind all the missing women?”

“There’s a lot more cases that aren’t broadcasted in the news. These are the cases that have been barred because their families — prominent, powerful families — make sure it doesn’t reach the public.” Yoon brought out another set of files, “The missing cases off the news are all women from Kyeonggi Girls’ High School graduates.”

“What do they have to do with me?” His brows furrowed, confused, “I’ve only dated and been with one person in my entire life — [Y/N].”

“It seems that when all these women were in high school, they all expressed interest… in you. There… seemed to be an online thread popular amongst them at the time where the topic was you. It’s still up and available, actually, if you’re interested in—”

“I don’t give a single flying fuck about some online thread back in high school. I care about how my fianceé has been added to a list of missing women caused by some sociopath who has something against me for some god damn reason.” Jaehyun stood up from his seat, veins bulging from his neck as he did his best not to scream at Yoon.

His mother was just returned with a tray of biscuits while a servant followed with a tea set. “Have some tea, boys.”

“I’m going out.” He determinedly stated , turning around to go up to his room and grab his phone. “I’ll make my own personal visits to some people.”

“Son, that’s not advisable — if the suspect’s real goal is you—”

“Then he should’ve just gone for me.” Jaehyun cut off Yoon’s words, “The man’s a sociopath; he’s smart and he’s patient. He knows my weakness and is using it against me, but I’m not entirely vulnerable yet. He’s not going to pounce at me the second I step out of those doors, but I’m not going to sit around and wait for something to happen.”

He didn't wait for a response and left the room.

“Jaehyun!” His mom called out, “Honey, stop him!”

His father shook his head, “He’s right, though. If anything, we should heighten security around you, honey. You’re his mother. Yeongcheol, please keep us updated with any new findings your men have. As always, we appreciate you keeping a tight seal on this.”

“Any time, Jaegun.”

“Hello?”

Jaehyun found himself smiling in surprise, “Didn’t think you could sound so nice to me, Kang.”

Yebin chuckled over the phone, “Excuse me, I’ll take this call outside.”

Ah, he bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. He watched the people on the sidewalk pass by while he sat in traffic, tapping a finger on his knee. For his mom’s sanity, he agreed to be driven around by Mr. Kyung, their family chauffeur.

“What the fuck do you want?” Yebin hissed into his ear, right through the phone.

“Is [Y/N] with you?” He silently prayed to every and any higher being that she would say yes, “Tell me honestly. It’s very important.”

“No, I’m at work. I haven’t spoken to her in over a week — what the fuck did you do?”

Jaehyun balled his fist, disheartened to know you weren’t with her. He always thought if you were to run to someone to hide from him, you’d go to Yebin. She’s in an equally powerful conglomerate as he is — The Kangs were known in the arts industry. They owned museums, art schools, and multiple businesses. 

“I… She broke up with me.”

“What?!” The sheer frequency of her screech was so high that Jaehyun had to move his phone away, wincing. “She would never do that. She’s wrapped around your finger as much as you are with her!”

Somehow hearing that from Yebin comforted him, “It’s… a long story. I just needed to know if she was with you. Would you happen to know if she’s with Minkyung?”

“No, and now that you mentioned it, Minkyung did bring up the other day that she couldn’t contact [Y/N].”

“Fuck.”

“Jung, I don’t like that tone. There’s more to this than you’re letting on. Spit it out.”

Jaehyun inhaled deeply, contemplating if he should tell her. Yebin was too… unpredictable. He doesn’t know much about her as a member of the Kang conglomerate. She never talked about it during gatherings and if Jaehyun was going to be completely honest, she doesn’t even seem to be a “Kang” with how she lives her life.

“Jung Jaehyun—”

“I can’t tell you much. It’s a private investigation that the Commissioner himself is handling… Someone seems to have a vendetta against me. That’s all I can reveal. And… it seems they have gotten their hands on [Y/N].”

The silence on the other line was both concerning and terrifying.

“So basically, you’re telling me that [Y/N] is missing — possibly kidnapped — because of you.” Jaehyun couldn’t even respond to this because Yebin is enunciating the next words slowly, “I am going to kill you.”

He sighed, “Please let me find her before you do so.”

“No, we’re going to find her. I’m going to help. I’ll tell Minkyung—”

“Don’t. Kang, be smarter than this. We’re keeping this on the down low… not even her parents know.”

“What. the. Fuck. Jung. Her own parents don’t know? What do they know?”

“That I took her on a spontaneous trip abroad.” Jaehyun rubbed his eyes in irritation, looking outside to realize he’s reached his destination and Mr. Kyung was just letting him finish his call. “I have to go. There’s someone I have to talk to. Please don’t tell Minkyung or [Y/N]’s parents. Please, Kang.”

He heard her grumbling on the other line before she responded, “Fine. But keep me updated and if there’s anything I can do — name it and it’s done.”

“Okay. Thank you.” He briefly remembered Yoon’s words, “Kang, be careful. It’s pretty much known in our circle we don’t like each other. I’ll tell you more details later but whoever this asshole is had someone who I didn’t get along with back in high school investigated. The Commissioner said it was probably to get info on me.”

“You’re right. I don’t like you. In fact, at the moment I absolutely hate you. But if anyone came to me looking for shit on you, I’m on your side. I would never do anything to you because I know it’ll upset [Y/N]. She loves you, I’m sure you know that. And I don’t know what the fuck you did to make her break up with you, but I can confidently tell you that up to that point that she loved you more than anything in the world.” She paused, “And yeah, I’ll be careful. We have better security now thanks to Nakamoto.”

Jaehyun was in the middle of unbuckling his seatbelt, “You signed with him, too?”

“Technically, my mom did, but yeah. Gotta praise him for his tenacity in taking over the security tech industry here.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He nodded at Mr. Kyung as if to say he’s getting out, “I have to go. I’ll contact you later.”

After he closed the door of the car, Mr. Kyung drove off, presumably to look for parking while he waited for him. Jaehyun gazed up at the location he’s arrived at, eyeing the large signage in front.

Seoul General Hospital.

He hadn't even stepped foot inside when someone recognized him and called his attention. Luckily for him, it’s exactly who he was looking for.

“Jaehyun. What brings you here?” Kun had a brown paper bag in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. He must be on his lunch break, which is perfect.

“I’m here for you, actually. I’d like to have a word with you in private.”

Kun seemed apprehensive but nodded, “Uh, sure. I should be the only one in the OB clinic at the moment.”

Jaehyun followed him through the door and throughout their small journey of walking down the reception area and getting into an empty elevator for the third floor, the two men just stayed silent. Kun felt very awkward, unable to bring himself to make small talk with Jaehyun, who simply just stayed quiet as he thought out his words.

Once in the clinic and Kun had put his lunch inside the break room, he gestured for Jaehyun to enter a small office. “Have a seat.”

Jaehyun sat down on one of the chairs in front of the table, while Kun circled the desk to sit on his own.

“So, what is it that you came to talk to me about?”

“You’re Jeon Gon, aren’t you?”

Jaehyun watched Kun’s eyes widen just a fracture. 

The doctor shook his head, “I’ve already told [Y/N] that it wasn’t me.”

“[Y/N] confronted you? When?”

Kun glanced over to the wall where a calendar was, “A few weeks ago— last month, actually. I would have thought she told you about it. She told me about the gifts being sent to her under my name… my Korean name. You can ask the head nurse for my logs around that time and it would show that I was busy here for weeks. I only had time off recently because my parents are here—” He sucked his teeth to stop himself from talking.

Jaehyun stared at him, emotionless.

They held eye contact for a while, letting tension build in the air until Jaehyun whispered, “Do you harbor any hate for me?”

“What?”

“If I was in your position, I’d hate me. I made you break up with your girlfriend so I could have her.”

Kun frowned, “Jaehyun…”

“And to make sure you stayed away, I paid your parents to move back to China and had them sign an NDA to shut them up.” He leaned back on his chair, crossing his arms all the while still keeping his eyes on the doctor, waiting for a reaction. “You should hate me. You hate me, don’t you?” 

Kun broke their eye contact, bringing his head down with defeated sigh and a slow shake of his head to deny Jaehyun’s allegations.

“I don’t. I’m not like that.” He softly spoke, “Maybe I hated you then, but it’s been years, Jaehyun. I’ve moved on from it.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“So you think I hate you? And you think I want revenge for what you’ve done? And my revenge is what? Breaking the NDA? Harassing [Y/N]?” He brought his attention back to him, “If that was my plan, I wouldn’t have brought my parents here for vacation and have them be collateral damage for my actions. I may not have romantic feelings for [Y/N] anymore, but I still care and respect her. I don’t have a reason to do any of the things you’re accusing me of. So no, I don’t hate you. If anything, from what I can tell right now is that you hate me.”

This made Jaehyun chuckle, dryly and bitter.

“The one thing we have in common is that our first love is one woman — [Y/N]. But the difference is that you're hers.”

The admonition pierced his chest. He always knew it but he refused to hear it out loud because somehow he knew he’ll be filled with such an overwhelming sense of jealousy that he’ll lose himself in it.

“And the difference between me and [Y/N] is that we’re not each other’s last.” Kun said, “I may not have met mine yet, but she’s met hers. And it’s you. And I’m genuinely happy for both of you. Really.”

Jaehyun couldn’t wrap his head around how Kun could say such things after all he’s done. It shouldn’t be that easy.

“I’m sorry, but my lunch break is almost over. I don’t mean to kick you out or anything.” He gestured to the clock that read it was nearing 1PM after hearing female voices outside the office.

A knock came from the door, “Dr. Qian? You in there?”

“I have a friend over, Dr. Lee.”

Friend. Jaehyun frowned, how could he consider someone like him as a friend?

“Well, I need to get back to work soon. Again, Jaehyun, I’m being framed. I’m just not the type to hold grudges and I’m not blind to see or understand that [Y/N] is safe with you—”

“She’s not.” Jaehyun cut him off. Hurriedly, he spoke up again before Kun could question it. “She’s missing. She’s been missing for a few days now.”

“What?” The news had Kun on his feet, his chair rolling off as he stood up. “What do you mean?”

“Whoever has been framing you has gotten to her and I don’t know where she is. I came here thinking you were behind it or at least had some part in it.” He was speaking so fast, but he didn’t stumble over his words. He felt himself unraveling; he believed it was Kun all this time but now he’s sure he couldn’t have done anything to you. He’s at a loss on any lead on who the kidnapper could be. His throat started to burn and the back of his eyes began to prick, “But now I know it’s not you.”

Jaehyun swallowed hard, doing his best to keep his emotions in check. He stood up as well and smoothed out his clothes. “The police are on the case, so you don’t have to worry. It’s a private investigation so I would like to ask you to keep quiet about it.”

“How are her parents? Are they okay?”

“They’re fine, but… they don’t know she’s missing. They’re under the assumption I took her on a surprise trip out of the country.”

Kun stared at him as if he grew another head, “What?”

“I just want to know a little more about the case so I can explain it better when I tell them, okay?” He scowled, “And I’m sorry for taking up your lunch break. I’ll be on my way—”

“Jaehyun, wait,” Kun put a hand up in front of him, waiting for Jaehyun to turn back to him, “I’m not as powerful as you — I don’t have the means to go above and beyond to help, but… but you were wrong about what we have in common. What we have in common is that we’ll do anything for [Y/N] and I don’t know what I can do, but please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

Jaehyun took a second to process his words before nodding, “Okay, I will… and I’d like to tell you everything that’s happened. I think you deserve that much after I came here unannounced and accused you. But for now, just stay quiet. Stay safe.”

“Sir, you have a visitor.”

Choi Hajun looked up from his laptop, annoyed at the secretary. “I’m busy.”

“B-but… it’s very important—”

“I don’t care. Tell them I don’t have time.”

“Well, you’re going to make time for me either way.” Jaehyun stepped around the secretary, who was blushing at the ground when he had put a hand on her shoulder to gently push her out of his way. “What kind of staff member for the senator has a personal office?”

The secretary scurried off, closing the door to give them privacy.

“Jung?” Hajun scoffed, sarcasm just dripping off his voice, “Jung Jaehyun? To what do I owe this pleasure? I heard you’re getting married.”

The tiniest muscle under his eye twitched at the last word but Jaehyun remained calm. He remembered why he hated him so much back in high school. He was always so loud and obnoxious, your typical rich kid who assumes he had power because his father had power. He made himself the leader of anything they did, he commanded, made decisions, and was the mastermind behind everything back then. If he hadn’t been jailed, maybe he would have tried running for a political position.

“I’m going to assume the police haven’t contacted you yet.”

“The police?” Hajun paled at this, “Why? I haven’t been doing anything! Especially nothing against you!”

He rolled his eyes, “Calm down, you idiot. Someone is after me. They hired our trusted private investigator to investigate you to get access to his other files in his office.”

“What the fuck? I’ve done nothing. Elections are coming up. The last thing I’ll ever do is get into hot water that affects my dad. He’d kill me.”

“You expect me to believe that you’ve been tame all this time? No bars? Night clubs? Strip clubs?”

“No.”

Jaehyun smirked, cocking his head to the side, “Then what did your mother pay the police district for a few months back?”

Hajun shot up from his seat, “How do you know that?”

“Your dad can’t find out because he’ll disown you, but you’ve always been a mother’s boy, huh?”

“You went through the shit the PI got for the other guy? You’re fucked up and that’s illegal!”

“Don’t raise your voice, Hajun. Do you want the rest of the office to hear and report it directly to your dad?”

“This is my office and you’re just a visitor — an uninvited one, for that matter.”

“This is your office, but clearly you’re not the one in power at the moment.” Jaehyun leaned over the desk and planted his hands firmly on the table. The action made Hajun flinch and freeze on the spot. “You and I both know who is, hyung.”

Hajun’s jaw tightened, “Just what is it you want from me, Jung?”

He smiled brightly, dimples in full display, “I just wanted to know if you know someone who could possibly be after me. Maybe you came across someone new the past few months that seemed out of the blue—”

“My circle is small now, Jung. I’m not in touch with any of the other guys from school, too. Yeah, I was at a club a few months ago, but the only reason why my mother paid the police was because the club was a drug den — I didn’t willingly do drugs! I was drugged!”

Jaehyun’s face fell and he slowly erected his back as Hajun rambled about the drugging incident. He was there, too? “Who were you with?”

“Co-workers! We came from an office dinner, and thought we’d continue the night with drinks at the club.”

When the drug raid was reported on the news, Jaehyun and Sicheng did get tested and both of them got similar results that confirmed that they were in fact drugged that night. Yuta also tested positive when they asked him. Nothing new ever came up and it seemed like they were just at the wrong place at the wrong time, so neither of them ever brought it up or looked further into it.

“Not even at work?” Jaehyun interrupted Hajun once more, this man never knew when to shut up. “You didn’t meet anyone new for work?”

“I help out with PR, but that’s it. I’m barely the PR manager. I only have an office because I’m a spoiled brat.” Hajun sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. The topic had clearly upset him but he didn’t want to dwell on it, “Look, if someone came to me looking for dirt on you, it’ll be hard to expose you without exposing myself or any of the others. But I’ll stay alert and update you if I find something suspicious.”

“Okay.” Jaehyun grabbed a notepad and pen on the table and scribbled a number down. “You can reach me using that number. I’ll be going now. Thanks for your time.”

As he reached the door, Hajun gasped and it made him glance back in curiosity.

“Wait, there was someone — I didn’t meet him, but my father did. Fuck, I can’t remember his name, but they met for business and I just thought it was weird because the dude’s company didn’t have anything remotely helpful in politic’s — but what do I know about poli—”

“Stop wasting my time and remember the guy’s name.”

Hajun grimaced at him, but shut his eyes in hopes he could remember by doing so.

Jaehyun was growing impatient and was about to turn back around to open the door until Hajun snapped his fingers.

The name that slipped past Hajun’s mouth had made Jaehyun see red.

a/n: 😇 and the villain is--

next: part 16

fund my resignation lmao

[maddiethedog2]

The Birthday

I couldn't imagine a more perfect way to spend the morning of my 35th birthday. It had been a beautiful, spring Saturday morning. I got up a little later than usual, put on my khakis and a polo shirt, grabbed breakfast at the club house with my best friends, and spent the entire morning playing golf.

Usually, weekend mornings are full of 'Daddy-duties' for me. Wake up, turn on some cartoons for the kids, change the baby's diaper and get everyone out of pajamas, make breakfast, then load everyone up in the car for the youth sports game-of-the-week. Don't get me wrong. I love my life. I love being a dad. I love spending time with my kids. But, today, my birthday, my wonderful wife Madeline let me make the day just about me, and I love that too.

It was about 1:00 pm by the time I got home. I staggered into the house a little more unbalanced than usual, having had a few more than my normal share of beers on the course. In my slightly drunken state, it took me a second to recognize that something was different than normal in the house, but, after hanging my keys on the key hook and wandering into the kitchen, things started to feel off.

First, the house was clean. The toys, normally spread across the house, were all in their proper place. The kitchen counters were crumb free. The sink was clear of dishes. Now, I am not saying our house is normally a mess, but with kids, it's generally impossible to keep the house cleaner than 'slightly cluttered.'

"Love?" I called out, "The house looks beautiful? Did you and the kids spend the whole morning cleaning?"

My yell was met with silence. That was also odd. With the kids around, the house was always noisy. However, at that moment, there was nothing. No one was crying, or laughing, or yelling. The sounds of the latest episode of Bluey or Pokemon weren't blaring from the playroom. There wasn't even music playing. I started to become suspicious. Was anyone home?

With growing concern, I turned and left the kitchen and heading upstairs to the master bedroom. Maybe my wife was taking a nap? Maybe she convinced the kids to nap to? It seemed unlikely, but, in my happy, half-drunk stupor, I was ready to get to the bottom of this mystery.

I walked upstairs briskly, now more cautious about yelling out, not wanting to wake anyone up if they were sleeping. As I made it to the second floor hallway, I was greeted by more of what I had seen downstairs. An impeccably clean and quiet house.

As I passed each of the children's bedrooms, I peaked in, hoping to get some sign of what was happening. I got no hints. Each of my kids rooms was clean, organized, and devoid of life.

I finally made it to the master bedroom at the end of the hall. As I approached the room, I noticed that the door was shut. Much like the house being clean and silent, that never happened. Cautiously, and still a little unsteadily, I approached the white door to my bedroom, grabbed the handle, and cautiously pushed the door open. As I did, I was greeted by the sultry voice of my wife.

"Why hello there big boy! I see someone finally made it home for his birthday surprise!"

Like a dog anticipating a treat when they hear their master reach for the treat bag, I suddenly was overcome by an overwhelming sexual anticipation for what was coming next. I could feel my cock, flaccid and unnoticed just moments before, grow larger and harder, pressing against my khakis in a way that made my feelings for my wife obvious to anyone who could see me.

Now driven by lust, I abandoned my previous sense of caution. I flung open the door to my bedroom to reveal my wife lying on top of the comforter of our king sized bed.

My eyes were instantly drawn to my wife, lying across the bed seductively. She was wearing the sexiest, laciest black lingerie I had ever seen. It emphasized her cleavage and ass perfectly. Her long, brown hair, styled wavy, was draped over her shoulder. In her hand was a riding crop, a favorite tool for administrating 'punishments' in our house.

"Happy Birthday Baby! I thought maybe we could celebrate together today?" My wife, Melody, said seductively, smacking the leather end of the riding crop in her empty hand for emphasis. I felt blood flow to my penis as she spoke. Suddenly, my member was straining against the confines of my boxer briefs and khakis. This was going to be a good birthday.

Noticing my arousal, Melody climbed off the bed, leaving the riding crop behind, and walked up to me. She grabbed my now rock hard penis over my pants with one hand and used her other hand to pull my head down into a passionate kiss. I immediately reciprocated.

As we kissed, Melody, despite being 8 inches shorter and 100 pounds lighter than me, used the leverage she had from handling my penis to maneuver me to a position where my back was to the bed as we kissed. Once I felt the back of my knees brush against our king-sized mattress, Melody surprised me with a shove to the chest, forcing me to lie on my back on the bed. Then, with a mischievous grin on her face, she reached for my belt and the buckle of the pants, expertly undoing both and ripping my pants off.

"We can't have you wearing these! They'll just get in the way!" She exclaimed as she through my khakis to the ground unceremoniously. I grinned in anticipation as Melody climbed on top of me, straddling me at the waist, and began rubbing her still panty clad pussy on my still underwear covered penis.

As she continued the motion, she leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Oh, you like that big boy?" I just moaned in response. I could feel pre-cum leaking out of my penis into my underwear.

"Yeah, I bet you do, you naughty little boy," She continued. I just moaned again. However, the friction felt so good, along with the dirty talk, I suddenly was becoming worried that I was going to cum even before we started to have sex. I tried to turn my head away and think of something else, just to extend the amount of time this would last.

Melody laughed as I turned my head away, clearly aware of what I was doing. I started to blush in embarrassment at the realization that she new I was at risk of losing control even before we started fucking.

"Oh, does this feel a little TOO GOOD for you baby? We can't have that! Let's slow things down," Melody said, climbing off of me, and, thankfully, giving me the chance to slow down. I looked down at my blue boxer briefs and saw a distinct wet spot from where my pre-cum had soaked into my underwear. Melody looked at it to, frowned playfully, but didn't say anything about the stain immediately.

"I want to make this last all day for you, so let's try something else," Melody said as she walked over to our nightstand. I followed her shapely, barely covered ass as she moved around the bed. Then, for the first time, I noticed some new things about the room.

First, on the nightstand were a number of 'supplies' I had never seen before. On the nightstand was a blindfold, a contraption with leather straps I couldn't quite identify but looked like it was meant to go around a person's head, and a pair of large, noise cancelling wireless headphones. Looking closer to me, I noticed that our bed was slightly different as well. Rather than being covered in our normal comforter and pillows, the bed was covered in nothing but black satin sheets. Also, interestingly, there were now wrist and ankle restraints attached to each corner of the bed, waiting patiently to pin down whoever was strapped into to them. I couldn't help but grin. Today WAS going to be a good day. I'd never been so glad that we slowed down early.

Melody turned around from where she stood, bent over the nightstand. "Like what you see?" She asked, wiggling her ass playfully as she grabbed the blindfold in her other hand.

I laughed, "Oh yeah."

"Well, big boy, I've got something special in mind for you today, but, its a surprise, so I need you to let me take control," she said as she returned to my position on the bed. "So, first, put this on." Melody handed me the blindfold.

"Kinky," I said playfully, complying with her command and blindfolding myself.

"Oh, you don't even know," Melody said. "Now, lay back on the bed and spread out your arms and legs. Today is about me taking care of you."

Excited by where this was going, I did as she asked. I spread out my arms and legs and felt as she, with surprising expertise, strapped me into the wrist and ankle restraints.

"What's gotten into you Melly? You never want to play like this?" I asked as she strapped me in, a little disappointed that with the blindfold on, I couldn't see my wife's marvelous body.

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough. Now, no more talking, baby!" She said. Suddenly, I felt something soft and rubber brush my lips. "Open up and take this," Melody suddenly said.

I did as she asked and let the rubber object enter my mouth. As it filled my mouth, I felt it suddenly stop as a hard piece of plastic hit the outside of my lips. Panic suddenly hit me as I realized what this was--a pacifier.

Since before Melody and I had even started dating, I had an ABDL fetish. Specifically, I loved the idea of diapering, babifying, and humiliating strong, independent women. I did not know where it came from, and in a lot of ways, I loathed the fetish. The idea that humiliating and infantilizing women turned me on, despite my actual strong feminist values, disgusted me. As a result, I never acted on it and had never shared my fetish with Melody, or any other woman for that matter. That had not stopped me from viewing, reading, and eventually writing copious amounts of ABDL porn during our relationship though.

The feeling of the pacifier being pressed into my mouth created so many concerns.

First, how had Melody found out about my fetish? Had she found out about my fetish? Was she upset about it? Second, despite having an ABDL fetish, the idea of being infantalized myself disgusted me.

In my fantasies, I was ALWAYS the dominant daddy, slowly helping my partner become the helpless, infantalized adult they deserved to be treated as. I was never the one being babied. If Melody's plan was to do this to me, that was NOT what I wanted.

In the time that all of this went through my head, I was able to spit out my pacifier and yell out, "What the fuck?!?" I struggled at my bonds as I felt the wet rubber of the giant plastic nipple land on my chest. No matter how much I pulled I could not get free. Frustratingly, I couldn't see Melody's reaction to my struggles, but I could hear her laugh.

I felt the pacifier that had just been in my mouth being picked up off my chest and pressed into my lips again.

"Take this in you mouth, big boy, or suffer the consequences," my wife's voice commanded. Melody emphasized her point by squeezing my balls almost uncomfortably with her free hand.

I wasn't going to give in that easily. I closed my lips tight and turned my head to the side. When I thought I was safe from the childish soother being shoved in my mouth, I responded. "What the fuck is going on Melody, what are you doing? Is that a pacifier you are trying to get me to suck on?" I asked.

Melody with impatience in her voice, refused to answer my questions.

"You'll know precisely what is going on soon enough. Now, suck on this before I make you suck on it," she ordered, attempting to shove the rubber nipple in my mouth a third time. I refused again.

"Have it your way," she said, "this makes it more fun for me anyway."

I felt the mattress I was tied to move as Melody got off of the bed. I then heard the sound of something being moved around on the nightstand. The bed shook again and Melody got back on. I became nervous as I could feel her kneeling next to my prone form.

Suddenly, without almost any warning, I felt a sharp smack to my penis and balls. The pain, while not particular intense, as the slap was blessedly light, was unexpected and sharpe. I raised my head and yelled out. "Owww!"

As I opened my mouth, what must have been a different pacifier, given the much larger size of the rubber nipple was shoved in my now open mouth. At the same time, what must have been the leather straps I saw on the nightstand earlier, were quickly shoved over my head. I tried to spit this new, larger pacifier out. I couldn't. I could feel that with one hand, Melody was now holding the pacifier into place. With her other hand, she was tightening the straps wrapped around my head. A thrashed my head back and forth, but I couldn't stop the process. Within moments, I felt my wife stop pushing the pacifier into my mouth. However, even without that pressure, I couldn't spit it out. Given the days of my life I had spent masturbating to adult baby porn, I knew what I was wearing--a pacifier gag.

I heard Melody sigh in satisfaction as she pulled away from my body, leaving me to struggle against my restraints. "Much better," She said triumphantly, "this will go much smoother if you can't talk."

"Mmmmrrrppphh," I said, unable to form any words due to the size of the large pacifier stuck in my mouth.

I heard Melody walk around the bed, stopping at the foot of the bed. I felt her reach her hand up to my underwear and poke at the wet spot made from my pre-cum earlier.

"Oh my! Look at this, it looks like my BIG, ADULT husband had a little accident in his undies, didn't he?" she chided me with a condescending tone. I growled into the pacifier shoved into my mouth, horrified at where this was going. "I though I was married to a grown up who could keep his pants clean, it doesn't look like it though, does it?" she continued. I growled in the pacifier and thrashed around again. "Clearly, you aren't ready for big boy undies. I think you would look much cuter in diapers anyway. Let's just get this underwear off."

I felt the weight of my wife leaning over the bottom of the bed before I felt the cool metallic feel of scissors sliding up to the bottom of my boxer briefs. I bucked my hips as I felt Melody begin to cut my underwear free. I just couldn't believe what was happening. I had read this story so many times. Fantasized about it. Fuck, I'd even written something close to this once. But, every single time, I was the one removing the underwear, not the one having it taken from me. This was horrible.

"Stop that baby!" Melody said, giving my balls a warning slap as I bucked my hips and tried to prevent this indignity from continuing. "Do you want me to accidentally cut you? These scissors are sharp?"

As she spoke, I realized she was right. Even this humiliation wasn't worth injuring myself. I stopped struggling long enough to let Melody continue cutting my boxer briefs off. "Good boy!" she said encouragingly as she pulled my destroyed underwear free, exposing my ass and crotch. I felt my penis, rock hard only minutes earlier, shrivel up from the cold air and the humiliation of what was happening.

"Oh, how cute! It knows where it's going, so it shrunk up appropriately," Melody said, playfully pinching my penis. "Alright, stay here baby, I'll be back in a second."

I groaned inwardly as I heard Melody leave the room. Where was I going to go? Strapped to the bed, blindfolded, half-naked, and forced to suck on a pacifier, I was firmly detained at this point. It didn't take long before I heard Melody re-enter the room. I listened closely and could clearly hear the rustling sound that I knew must be the diaper she was holding. I listened further as Melody retook her position at the foot of our bed and placed the items she was carrying down.

"Alright, big boy, time to get you diapered for Mommy!" Melody said as I felt her lean over my spread legs.

I immediately started to thrash and scream into my pacifier. This was not going to happen to me. I was an adult. I was in control. I was the Daddy Domme! If anyone in this house was going to be diapered, it'd be Melody, not me! My struggles proved useless though. Try as I might, Melody had been prepared. The ankle and wrist restraints were too solidly attached to the bed frame, and she clearly didn't skimp on the quality of the restraints themselves. I was not going to break free. After what felt like minutes of struggling, I gave up, embracing my fate.

Melody, for her part, just giggled at my struggles. "What a silly boy, thinking he can get free of Mommy that easily?" Melody teased me as I thrashed. When I finally gave up, she said with the tone I had heard her use with our toddlers so many toys, "A you done throwing your tantrum? Good. Now, let's get this diaper on you before you make a mess on the bed!"

With that, I felt Melody lean back over the bed and place what had to be the diaper down near my resting ass.

"Lift!" My wife ordered me. Resigned to the futility of my situation, I complied, lifting my hips into the air. I felt the diaper slide underneath me.

"Drop!" She indicated. I let my ass fall onto the surprisingly soft padding.

"Good boy," She said, and I felt her begin to spread lotion over my skin. The sensation of her rubbing me brought some life back to my penis. I felt myself getting aroused again. I turned red with embarassment. The idea that I could get any sort of enjoyment out of being treated like this was humiliating.

"Oh, it looks like my little friend wants to come out to play!" Melody said as she saw my member grow harder. She immediately redirected her attention. "Well, if he wants to play, let's play!"

I started to moan as Melody gave me the most enthusastic hand job she had ever given me. She laughed as I thrusted my dick into her hand and grunted into the pacifier.

"Oh, baby likes that, does he?" She said breathily, quickly moving her hand up and down my shaft. After years of being together, Melody knew almost exactly when I was about to cum. Right as I was on the verge of bursting, she let go of my dick. Then, quickly, she folded the diaper over my penis and held it there as I came into the thick padding.

"Gotta be careful to not get any icky juices on you during diaper changes, just like with the boys!" Melody said as I moaned and came into my diaper. I could feel my cheeks turning bright red as she compared me coming into my diaper to a baby boy peeing during a diaper change. Despite the orgasm, this entire situation was torture.

Melody then quickly taped me into my padded, and now sticky, prison. She then crawled on top of me, in some sort of twisted call-back to our earlier sexual encounter, and rubbed her ass back and forth on my padded crotch a couple of times mockingly.

"Oh, this is much better," She laughed, as she bent over and pulled the blindfold off of my face. "Why don't you take a look big boy?"

I squinted as the light hit my eyes for the first time in at least a half an hour. The first thing I saw was my wife's face, staring down at me. Her made up and sexy appearance that was so attractive just earlier was just mocking me now.

"Well, take a look," She ordered.

I lifted my head as much as I could and looked down at my body. Past the ring of the pacifier that was strapped into my mouth I could see my polo shirt. Past my polo shift, sticking up just enough to be seen was a big, disposable ABDL diaper with a baby blue waist band. I groaned as I knew from my peculiar porn viewing proclivities that these particular diapers proudly labelled the wearing as a "POTTYPANTS" on the rear. The childish undergarments stood in stark contrast to my wives sexy panties, that were pressed against it.

Looking at my state, imagining what I must look like to her, I started to tear up in shame.

It only took moments for Melody to notice my building tears and place a hand comfortingly on the side of my face.

"Oh, is it embarrassing to be diapered and forced to use a pacifier, baby?" She said with mock caring in her voice, "You must be wondering why I am doing this?"

I nodded my head in affirmation, doing my best to hold back my tears.

"Well, I'm sure you've guessed by now, I've found the little 'secret' you've been hiding to me. Masturbating to the idea of grown women in diapers? What a dirty little pervert you are!" Melody began. I blushed. "I'm going to admit, at first, I was just shocked that you hid something that you were clearly so into from me. But, I was ready to show you that, despite not really being into it myself, I'd indulge in your fantasies." Melody continued.

I struggled to attempt to respond through the pacifier in my mouth, to explain that this wasn't my fantasy. I couldn't get words out though. Melody put a finger on my pacifier in a shushing motion.

"Hush, babe. I KNOW this isn't YOUR fantasy. I found the disgusting erotica you wrote. You've always claimed to be a feminist, to love women in power, and, I'll be frank, you actions had me fooled. But, the fact that all of your fantasies seem to be about belittling, infantilizing, and humiliating powerful women, I am afraid that that doesn't seem to ring true to me anymore." Melody continued.

I swallowed nervously. This was my worst nightmare come to life.

"So, for your birthday, I decided I'd give you a taste of your own medicine. I'd treat you just like you treat those poor women in the stories. By the end of this weekend, I plan to have you acting like my perfect adult-baby boy. I've sent the boys to my parents for the weekend, so it'll just be us. I even cleaned the house so I don't have to worry about that. I'm going to spend the whole weekend teaching you what its like to be the victim of one of your stories," my wife explained.

I attempted to speak through the pacifier gag again. To plead for forgiveness. To explain my shame. Melody hushed me again.

"No, baby. Nothing you can do is going to change my mind. Don't worry though, by the end of the weekend, I'll let you be a big boy again... maybe," She said with a wink. Then, without warning, she pulled the blindfold over my head blinding me again.

"Now," I heard her say, no unable to see what was happening again, "Mommy has some things to set up, so why don't you be a good baby and take a nap and listen to some of my special music."

I felt the wireless headphones be pulled over my head. I tried to shake them off as best I could, but, somehow, she had tied them into the strap of the pacifier gag, tying them in place.

Once the headphones were placed over my ears, I found myself almost completely cut off from the world. I couldn't see what was happening around me and all I could hear was what was clearly some sort of hypnotic track. As I realized what was happening, I let my head fall slack to the bed and closed my eyes in defeat.

I knew, at least for the next few days, I was well and truly fucked. What a way to spend my birthday weekend.

[lesbianchemicalplant]

Hi. ...You didn't get it. You were never gonna get it. They-- They dangle these things in front of you. They tell you, you got a chance, but I'm sorry it's a lie because they had already made up their mind and they knew what they were gonna do before you walked in the door. You made a mistake, and they are never forgetting it. As far as they're concerned, your mistake is just it's who you are, and it's all you are. And I'm not just talking about the scholarship here. I'm talking about everything. I mean, they'll smile at you, they'll pat you on the head, but they are never, ever letting you in. But listen. Listen. It doesn't matter. It doesn't because you don't need them. They're not gonna give it to you? So what? You're gonna take it. You're gonna do whatever it takes. Do you hear me? You are not gonna play by the rules. You're gonna go your own way. You're gonna do what they won't do. You're gonna be smart. You are gonna cut corners, and you are gonna win. They're on the 35th floor? You're gonna be on the 50th floor. You're gonna be looking down on them. And the higher you rise, the more they're gonna hate you. Good. Good. You rub their noses in it. You make them suffer. You don't matter all that much to them. So what? So what? Screw them. Remember the winner takes it all.

[x]

[ctyguidelondon]

This is the Sky Garden. When you step out onto the 35th floor you’re straight into a scatter of tables and chairs and people drinking Pimms and Pernod. They’ve got a posh bar up there selling cocktails and bottles of Dom Pérignon for 250 quid a pop, and the busy floor looks like a cross between a hotel lobby and an airport departure lounge.

[winxanity-ii]

⌜No Hoods Attached | Chapter 11 Chapter 11 | chase and evade⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

Wearing a janitor suit and cap, you emerge from a random room you had found refuge in during your escape. The outfit was a far cry from your previous set of clothes, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

With the disguise, you managed to bypass a few guards, your head bowed to avoid any direct eye contact as you shuffled onto the nearest elevator. Each press of a button felt like a gamble, each ding a step closer to freedom or failure.

As the elevator doors whispered shut, sealing you inside, your heart thudded frantically against your ribcage like a drummer setting the pace for your escape.

The elevator made a humming sound as it slowly moved through the floors to reach your destination. You couldn't help but let your mind wander to your jacket—the main reason for this entire escapade. The thought of finally reclaiming it strengthened your determination.

Once the elevator doors opened again, you stepped out into the corridor, the janitor disguise blending perfectly with the environment. You moved cautiously, taking slow, measured steps as you peered through the windows of every room you passed, searching for any sign of your treasured hoodie. The building seemed endless, each hallway a mirror of the last, but you pressed on.

Then... you saw it.

There, in a room lined with large mirrors that reflected your anxious silhouette back at you, there hung the red jacket, casually draped over a chair as if waiting for you.

A wave of emotions flooded through you at the sight. Relief, with a hint of victory, so sweet that it was almost overwhelming. Darting inside, your hands trembled as they closed around the fabric. There was a surge of sobbing relief as you held the jacket against you.

You did it. You finally got it back.

Then, just as you were basking in the triumphant glow of finding it, a sharp "Hey!" shattered the moment.

You weren't by yourself.

Spinning around, your heart sank as you locked eyes with a guard, his gaze like ice, fixating on you and the jacket clutched in your hands.

For a moment, neither of you moved—the standoff, tense and silent. Then, without a second thought, you bolted, the jacket clutched tightly in your grip as you dashed past him. The radio in his grasp crackled to life as he reported, "Suspect located on the 35th floor, main dance practice room."

This is it. It's over, I'm going to jail.

Panic clawed at your chest, but survival instincts kicked in, fueling a sudden burst of adrenaline. You weren't going down without a fight.

You feigned left before swerving to the right, initiating a sort of cat-and-mouse chase around the large room. Your abrupt move took the guard by surprise, causing him to stumble as he tried to follow. Seizing the opportunity, you sent a swift kick to his ankles, sending him sprawling to the floor with a well-placed trip.

Heart racing, you ran out of the room, the jacket clutched to you like a lifeline. Hurrying to the nearest stairwell, you could barely hear your own breathing over the pounding of your feet. Each step echoed a mix of fear and determination, propelling you forward.

Just when you thought you were about to collapse from exhaustion, you spotted it—a single unisex bathroom offering a temporary haven. As you stumbled inside, the shouts of "red jacket" and "janitor suit" faintly reached your ears.

Realization dawned that the disguise was now more of a beacon than camouflage.

With no time to spare, you shed the jumpsuit, abandoning it in a heap on the floor. Emerging from the bathroom, your civilian clothes felt both like a return to normalcy and a stark reminder of the reality you faced. Compared to the ruckus of the chase moments before, the corridors of HYBE were strangely quiet as you made your way outside once more.

You moved with cautious haste, every shadow and sound sending jolts of anxiety through you. The jacket—now hidden under your arm—felt like both a trophy and a ticking time bomb.

As you ran down the halls, the echoes of your footsteps being your only companion made the tension feel as if it were pressing down on you from all sides. Every turn, every doorway, held the potential for freedom or capture.

Suddenly, the muffled sounds of pursuit seemed to fade, replaced by the thumping of your own heartbeat in your ears. For a brief moment, you dared to hope that you might truly succeed in escaping.

That hope propelled you forward, fueling your legs as you pushed towards what you prayed was an exit; but just as quickly, a shout shattered the illusion of safety.

"There!" The voice, sharp and commanding, belonged to a guard who had turned the corner just as you were about to pass. The suddenness of the encounter nearly sent you crashing into him, but years of dodging responsibility and deadlines lent you a certain agility.

With a swift pivot, you skirted around him, the red jacket clutched to your chest as if it could shield you from the inevitable.

The guard—taken aback by your sudden appearance and even quicker disappearance—recovered quickly and took up the chase. "Stop! Security!" His shouts, a mix of authority and disbelief, followed you as you made your way through the building's winding hallways.

Panic made every sign, every door, every turn seem both familiar and completely foreign, narrowing your vision to nothing but the path in front of you.

Your mind raced almost as fast as your feet, calculating routes and risks on the fly. The hoodie—a vibrant red that seemed to burn under the fluorescent lights—felt heavier with each step, becoming a beacon for those who were attempting to reclaim it. But it was yours—a physical piece of a past and person you couldn't bear to lose again.

As you ran, your lungs began to burn with the effort of your escape. The shouts of the security guard echoed behind you, growing fainter yet still filled with determination and a persistent threat that spurred you on. "Someone stop her!"

Despite the panic that coursed through you, a part of you couldn't help but relish in the distance you had put between yourself and the pursuing guard.

Against better judgment, you couldn't help but throw a victorious smile over your shoulder, only to be met with the silent, empty hallway. For a second, you grew confident that you might just make it out of all of this unscathed.

Your confidence only grew the moment you spotted a sign ahead pointing towards the rear exit of the building. Freedom was just round the corner, literally. You quickened your pace, the taste of victory on your tongue.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans. As you rounded the last corner, your world suddenly collided with an unexpected obstacle. The impact was immediate and unforgiving; you found yourself tumbling to the ground, face-first. "Shit," you hissed through gritted teeth, the pain sharp in your nose.

"Ooh, that looked like it hurt. Are you okay?" A deep voice asked, cutting through the haze of your pain as you struggled to push yourself up onto your knees.

Looking up, your gaze met that of a blue-haired male, his face partially obscured by a black facemask, his hair sticking out from beneath a beanie. He extended his hand for you to grab.

"Yeah, I'm good. Thanks," you managed, accepting his help with a small bow; the gesture was automatic, a sign of gratitude even as your mind raced with the need to escape. "Sorry about running into you, by the way."

"It's alright, no harm done," he assured you, his voice soothing in its steadiness.

But before you could fully express your thanks, the distant shout of a guard broke the brief respite. "I think she went this way. Check this hall." The warning was clear; your time was running out.

Forcing a smile, you turned back to the blue-haired stranger, the urgency of your situation clear. "I'm sorry once again, and thanks for helping me up, but I gotta go. Important adult things to do, you know?" Your words were rushed, a feeble attempt to mask the desperation that clung to every syllable.

As you made to leave, his hand on your shoulder stopped you. His grip was firm, yet not unkind, drawing your attention to the red jacket clutched in your arms. "Wait. Is that my hoodie?"

"Um... no?" you stuttered, taking a small step back.

Taehyung's frown deepened as he watched you defensively tuck the red jacket behind your back, a clear sign of your reluctance to part with it. He took a step forward, reaching out in an attempt to grasp the elusive fabric of the jacket.

"Back up, bruh," you barked, the words coming out more as a desperate plea than a command.

"Who are you? Where you get that? How did you get in here?" Taehyung asked, his voice a mix of confusion and irritation, filling the hallway with tension.

Before you could muster a response—a witty retort dying on your lips—the distant shouts of the security guards echoed closer, a harrowing reminder of the immediate danger you both faced. A wild, primal fear surged through you, clouding your judgment and spurring you into action; the thought of losing your hoodie just when you got it back was unbearable.

In a split-second decision—fueled by adrenaline and desperation—you acted. With a surprising burst of strength, you pushed Taehyung towards the nearby closet—the only available hideout in the immediate area. "Sorry!" you blurted out, the apology rushed and half-hearted as you followed behind him, pulling the door shut just as the sound of the guards' footsteps grew ominously loud.

***DUN DUN DUUUUNNNNNNNN...

[smolalienbee]

And a Silver Sixpence in His Shoe

Day 1: Something Unexpected

good omens // aziraphale/crowley // a human AU childhood friends fic // rated T // chapter 1/6

At age 15, Aziraphale made a Promise. At age 25, he had an Earth-shattering fight with his childhood - and closest - friend. At age 35, that same friend shows up at his doorstep and suddenly, Aziraphale’s entire world is thrown upside down. A story of something unexpected, something old, something yellow, something stolen, something new and something promised. (It’s going to be a long week.)

read full chapter on AO3 here!

“Azira.”

Anthony calls for him from his peculiar perch on Aziraphale’s bed - sprawled out on his back, with his head hanging off the edge, long hair flowing down to the floor. He stares ahead at a wall; his eyes are still reddened. It’s been a long day.

“Yeah?” Aziraphale responds. His attention, the whole of it, is now on the other boy.

He is - has always been - Anthony’s complete opposite. It shows, quite clearly, in everything about the two of them. Even how Aziraphale sits is a complete contrast to his friend - cross-legged, hands folded neatly in his lap, stiff where Anthony is loose, like liquid. He feels an urge to rock himself back and forth, and he knows Anthony won’t mind, but still, he resists it, straightens his back instead. He listens; just as his parents have taught him - ‘if you care, Aziraphale, you will not move a muscle’.

He needs Anthony to know that he cares.

“Let’s make a promise,” Anthony says. He shoots up like a spring unfurled and before Aziraphale can even blink, Anthony is in front of him, nearly-yellow eyes peering directly into his. Aziraphale doesn’t startle. He stares right back, head cocked to the side.

“What about?”

“Well…” Anthony mirrors him, cocking his head in much the same way. He clicks his tongue. “Let’s promise that… if…”

He’s dragging it out on purpose. Aziraphale knows him. He waits, patient.

“...by the time we’re… hm. By the time we’re 35…”

He leans in. So does Aziraphale. Their foreheads bump and they grin. It’s the first time Anthony has smiled that day.

“...if, by the time we’re 35, we don’t have a - wife or a husband or a girlfriend or boyfriend or anyone, we’ll marry each other. Okay?”

There is no hesitation.

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Anthony.”

If there is one thing to be said about Aziraphale Z. Fell is that he leads an ordinary, quiet life.

He lives in Soho, London, above an old bookshop that he’s been fortunate enough to inherit in his late twenties. He likes sushi and good wine. He has a few friends - like Nina, who works at the coffee shop across the street; or Maggie, who runs the record store that he takes an absolute pleasure in frequently purchasing from.

(He’s lonely. Terribly so. He’s been lonely for about ten years now, since - he does not want to think about that.)

Today is his 35th birthday.

That fact in of itself may be shocking to some people - people’s first impressions of Aziraphale tend to be that he’s awfully, gleefully gay; that he’s extremely eccentric (with his speech, his mannerisms and the whole of his being); and that he’s at least 45. He never corrects them.

He’s planned for today to be another ordinary, quiet day. He has, rather firmly, refused his family’s invitation to a big birthday dinner - they’ve been inviting him, repeatedly and unsuccessfully, for the last five or so years. Perhaps that is one thing that he’s kept from Anthony - this sudden, unwavering confidence that everything will be okay, even when it feels like the world around him is shattering whenever he has to say no to his family.

In any case, his plans for his birthday are simple and painstakingly ordinary. First, he’ll go out to his favourite sushi restaurant and have a perfectly ordinary meal there. He may even, if the fancy strikes him so, buy enough sushi so that he can take some of it back home and treat himself to a breakfast sushi the following morning. It is his birthday, after all!

Then, once he’s full of sushi and sated, he’ll stop by Maggie’s store and buy a new record. A record that he most definitely doesn’t need, considering the rather extensive collection he’s already in possession of, but, well. Birthday!

By the end of the day, nothing will have changed. Much as he’s woken up, Aziraphale Z. Fell, an ordinary bookseller, he will, too, go to sleep as Aziraphale Z. Fell, an ordinary, lonely bookseller. There is not even a second when he entertains the possibility that something unexpected might happen today. Not one. Not a moment.

(He’s turning 35.)

That is until, not long after he’s had breakfast and came downstairs to the main shop floor, there’s a knock on the front door. Aziraphale huffs - his bookshop is most definitely closed today - and then makes a beeline to the door, purely for the satisfaction of shooing away whoever has dared to bother him on his birthday.

(He’s turning 35 and he doesn’t hope.)

He opens the door. He knows, even before his brain has the time to register what’s in front of him. Or who, rather.

“Hey, angel. Been a while.”

read full chapter on AO3 here!

[shiftythrifting]

This time from Building Blocks, a weird little religious thrift store in Lacombe.

WWII propaganda poster that I've never seen before, Cera in small plush form (there was also Nala, guessing both belonged to the came child), Bible Pictionary and regular Pictionary, church kleenax holder, green plates I wanted but they were unpriced and there was at least 15 of them, and a 35th wedding anniversary plate. There was also 25th and 50th plates!

Not included: the weird, uneven floor.