21. your daddy.

✖️

"Dyl?"

"Yes, baby?" he yells from the living room.

I run down the stairs and into where he is, two sets of pretty shorts with matching cropped bras in my hand. I hold them up for him to see in nonchalance. "Pink, or blue?"

"What's this for?" he raises an eyebrow.

"Uhm... science."

"Sophie," he folds his arms.

"It's for a social experiment." I explain.

"And what may this experiment be?"

"Uh... to see how long a giraffe can last under pressure." okay, that was smart. Pat on the back.

Dylan stays silent for a while, his eyes narrowing. Just when I think he's about to give me a straightforward answer, he opens his mouth again and lets out a loud, "Chase!"

I grimace at the loud sound of his voice, feeling like a student whose about to get yelled at for the bad grades on her report card. Scarily accurate, but true.

The man comes stumbling in from the kitchen, a frying pan in his hand, encrusted in the black of a piece of toast. I stare at it in confusion, but that's not what he's here about.

"What?" Chase asks, a little breathless. He has a metal spatula in the other hand, and I watch in amusement as he tries to clear the burnt mess.

Taking a seat on the couch, he's far too mesmerised in the cooking failure to notice the 'outfits' in my hand. He physically has to put the pan down in order to pay me any attention.

"Our little girl's trying to send nudes," Dylan announces, and my face flushes red, lowering the shorts ensemble in shame.

"I wasn't actually going to do it!" I lie. "I just wanted to know your opinion."

"Like your Daddy said, baby, it sounds so sweet, when you lie to us," Dylan states, a sass in his voice that I can't quiet grasp, and Chase nods in agreement.

I groan, letting my head fall back. "Blue, or pink?"

"Church."

"You guys," I whine, knowing fully well that my time is limited and that Luke is probably done by now.

Even so, I press on, holding the pieces of clothing up even higher.

I think both men know by now that I won't be backing down soon anyway, so eventually they just sigh; they look at each other, then at the choices, then back at each other, before diverting their attention in my direction once more.

"Pink." they both tell me.

"Wait, what does that say?" Dylan pauses, squinting at the waistband of the one they both chose. I hold it up for him to see, and as he reads the 'I Believe In Unicorns' quote, rip it away from his gaze before he has the chance to poke fun at me for it.

"Does it matter?"

"Not really, but whatever. I say the pink one."

I nod, lowering the other option as I stare at the pink and white stripes, "Took you long enough."

"Mhm," Chase starts, raising an eyebrow. As I begin to walk back out of the room again, he calls. "No face, Soph!"

I turn back, eyebrows furrowing. "What?"

"Just butt. Or boob. But no face," Dylan notes, sounding quite serious despite the topic at hand. "You never know who could get a hold of those pictures."

"Are you sending them to Huddings?" Chase asks, only to get nudged by his fiancé.

"Hemmings."

"Flem-at-the-back-of-your-throat-mings," Chase repeats. He says it to smoothly that I have a rough time believing he even heard Dylan's correction in the first place.

I nod, ignoring his constant mistake. "Yes."

"Then definitely no face," he points a finger at me. "He's a celebrity, and iCloud's get hacked. I don't want to have to go on a killing spree if those ever get leaked,"

I'm half tempted to point out the irony in his statement, due to the countless pictures on my Instagram account that I can basically pass off as nudes anyway. But I don't; instead, I just nod, before backing out of the room once more and thanking them for their time.

Once I'm upstairs, I strip out of my pyjama bottoms and shirt completely. There's a small part of me that says snapping the picture right now isn't worth it, since the bickering between Dylan, Chase and I took a good ten minutes.

Like I thought earlier, Luke's probably done by now.

And if he isn't, then fuck me sideways; the boy can last a while.

Which, if I wasn't so currently hellbent on taking this picture, would probably be enough for me to come undone tonight. Unfortunately, I've wasted enough time, so I can't.

I put the crop top on, sliding into the small shorts with ease. I turn this way and that in the mirror, trailing a finger down the stretch marks on my stomach and smiling a little; they're cute, and since Dylan calls them 'tiger stripes', that means I'm one step closer to becoming a fucking tiger. If that's not just the cutest thing I've ever heard in my seventeen years of existence, I don't know what is.

I position myself carefully in front of the mirror. Although the outfit is cute, it looks a little boring; I end up ditching the pink crop top altogether in an attempt to change that.

Instead, I throw it to the side, using an arm to shield my bare chest as well as pulling the shorts down so that they hang low on my hips- exposing much more skin than usual. Although my hand is there to block my boobs, I still manage to leave very little to the imagination.

This is definitely something I'd never post on my Instagram; it's for Luke's eyes, and Luke's eyes only.

Making sure to crop my face out, I snap the picture. Then I take a few dozen more, because I'm extra and finding the right angle never works out the first time around for me.

I'm just about to change back into my normal clothes until I realise that my bed sheet is pink; what I'm wearing is pink, Luke's daddy kink probably makes him like pink, and that colour-coordination is just a bonus.

So I slip my crop top back on and lie down on it, tilting my phone's camera ever so slightly to the left and almost breaking my back just to get a good ass angle.

Jesus, I can't help but think, the stuff I go through to make a guy cum.

Once I've gone through all of the pictures, picking and ditching the best and the worst, I allow myself to relax. Then I send what I'm hoping are the two best ones to Ashley, asking for her opinion.

ASH

ASHLEY

Hello

Pay attention to me

Does this look good

Hello

iTs NoT gOiNg To SaY hElLo It'S a CoW lUkE

ASHLEY

ASH

WTF

WHERE DID YOU GO

WHAT THE HELL

THIS IS A V SERIOUS MATTER

A S H L E Y

Michael Clifford

DADDY BETTER MAKE ME CHOKE

I laugh, shaking my head at her very predictable nature through the texts on my screen.

What's happenING

IT SAYS THAT YOU SENT ME A PICTURE DO I WANT TO SCROLL UP

YES I NEED YOUR OPINION

LOOK AT THE PICTURES I SENT YOU AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK

SophIE yOu ArE yElLiNg

Seeing as Ashley's my best friend and has been for well over a decade now, I'd say we're pretty comfortable when it comes to sharing stuff like this. We do it all the time when we need certain opinions.

Long story short, she's seen my boobs, I've seen hers. These simple ass pics are just child's play at this point.

So when she calls me, instead of texting me her reply, it's no wonder why I'm slightly scared. For a split second, I contemplate whether or not I've stepped over the line; because when I answer the phone, I can hear her crying.

"Ash?" I say, pressing it up against my ear. I suddenly forget about Luke, and the urgency needed to send it to him.

"Woah, Ash, What's wr-"

"They're-" she sobs, spluttering and interrupting me.

I brace myself, getting ready for her to make some excuse about me tainting her innocent, virgin eyes when she cries, "They're so fucking beautiful,"

Exhaling a slow, relieved breath, I let out a light laugh. I half expect her to stop crying. But she doesn't; she just carries on, and I can hear her physically wiping the tears from her face.

"Ashley," I say, the smile on my face stupidly wide. "Ash-"

"You bitch," she sobs. I purse my lips together, amused. "You can't just send me shit like that and expect me not to cry," this is the sort of support I need in a friendship. "That's just rude. Plain, rude."

"But-"

"You rude ass bitch-fuck," she rambles, and that's how I know she's being serious; she tends to put a bunch of curse words together when she doesn't know how to properly express herself. "You hot-ass bitchfuck. I'd clumpthug you right now if I had the chance," Clumpthug?

"I'm... sorry?" I say, though the goofy grin on my face prevents me from sounding apologetic. "I just wanted to get your opinion on it,"

"Can I have some time to gather myself before that, at least?" she sniffles. This time, I actually do laugh.

"Alright? Sure."

Once Ashley's calmed down, and I'm sure that she's in the right state of mind, I ask her again.

"I just cried over it, you pussywagon. Of course it's fucking good," she says. I giggle. "When the hell did you take that? And why? I mean, I'm not complaining,"

"I want to send it to Luke," I tell her, no hesitance in my voice. She squeals excitedly. "But I don't know which one to send,"

"Send the bed one first. Let his imagination run wild," she tells me. "Then when he's on the edge, send him the other."

"You sure know a lot about this," I say, sceptically yet entertained.

I can practically feel Ashley shrug through the phone. "What can I say? I read a lot of fanfiction."

I just laugh, thanking her for her nude sending skills before excusing myself. She's more than happy to let me go, though the one condition is that I tell her everything after it happens.

With my heart swelling in my chest and a bundle of nerves in my stomach at the thought of what Luke might have to say, I open our text messages; surprised once I see a few that I haven't even opened yet.

Baby

Can you FaceTime?

Although I'd love for him to see what I'm wearing live, I didn't take those pictures for nothing.

Sure. I just need your opinion on a few things first

Oh? Like what?

Without allowing myself even a split second to hesitate, I send the first one, just like Ashley told me to.

Then I send another one; the exact same outfit, just in a different angle, because I couldn't decide and I'm saving the crop top-less one for later.

I see the three dots come up from Luke's end of the chat, coming and going every now and again to indicate that he's typing yet taking back a reply.

They appear one last time before his message finally comes through, and a smile forms on my face.

You look very pretty, little girl.

Thank you, Daddy.

I can feel my heart racing as I send the text, knowing fully well how to go about this now.

But the top's a little uncomfortable...

It takes Luke a while to reply, though with the three dots, I can tell that he has the chat open.

Is that so, baby?

Mhm.

Like I did with the first one, I send the last picture. And I don't know what I was expecting, but Luke doesn't reply for a time period two times longer than the last.

I manage to get comfortable in bed, opting to stay in the cute pink set instead of changing out of it. And seeing as there might be the possibility of a video chat tonight, at least I'm dressed to the occasion.

Finally, after staring boredly at the three typing grey dots for a while, I receive a message.

Only it's not a text; it's a video.

Luke sent me a video. And I probably wouldn't be freaking out this much if what is currently displayed on the start screen wasn't his hand- hovering over his black boxers, the lights turned off in his room, his sweatpants down to his ankles.

I gulp as I play it, excitement completely taking me over.

At the beginning, I hear the rustling of Luke attempting to keep the camera steady. Then I hear a soft groan, making me turn the volume down in fear of Chase and Dylan bursting into my room any minute because of the slightest sound.

Looking over at my front door, I think about locking it. It's better than being interrupted.

I'm just about to pause the video to do so when Luke starts to speak; causing me to freeze in place.

"L-Look what you've done to me, doll," he rasps, a surpressed moan slipping out of his lips as his hand strokes the prominent bulge in his boxers.

I bite my lip, a pool beginning to form in between my thighs as I set my intent gaze on how Luke's hand trails teasingly across his erection. "Look how hard you've made your Daddy."

✖️