#//but also I can never stop starting new threads

[viciousbite]

//I might maybe return next month with my newest hyperfixation... >.> if I get the motivation. But don't worry, I will start to use easy, simple tags for fandoms once I return, if I don't forget. So people can blacklist them if they don't want to see them etc. :o But as always, I love cross overs to death. And simply starting to write, might bring back my motivation to the rest of my muses. c:

[anominous-user]

Double Indemnity, Veritas Ratio and Aventurine

This was originally a part of my compilation post as a short analysis on the Double Indemnity references, linking to this great thread by Manya on Twitter. However, I've recently watched the movie and found that the parallels run much deeper than just the mission name and the light cone itself, plus as the short synopsis I've read online. Since there isn't really an in-depth attempt at an analysis on the film in relation to the way Aventurine and Ratio present themselves throughout Penacony, I thought I'd take a stab at doing just that. I will also be bringing up things from Manya's thread as well as another thread that has some extra points.

Disclaimer that I... don't do analyses very often. Or write, in general — I'm someone who likes to illustrate their thoughts (in the artistic sense) more than write. There's just something about these two that makes me want to rip into them so badly, so here we are. If there's anything you'd like to add or correct me on, feel free to let me know in the replies or reblogs, or asks. This ended up being a rather extensive deep dive into the movie and its influences on the pairing, so please keep that in mind when pressing Read More.

There are two distinct layers on display in Ratio and Aventurine's relationship throughout Penacony, which are references to the two most important relationships in the movie — where they act like they hate/don’t know each other, and where they trust each other.

SPOILER WARNING for the entire movie, by the way. You can watch the film for free here on archive.org, as well as follow along with the screenplay here. I will also be taking dialogue and such from the screenplay, and cite quotes from the original novel in its own dedicated section. SPOILER WARNING for the Cat Among Pigeons Trailblaze mission, as well.

CONTENT WARNING FOR MENTIONS OF SUICIDE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

To start, Double Indemnity (1944) is a film noir by Billy Wilder (and co-written by Raymond Chandler) based on the novel of the same name by James M. Cain (1927). There are stark differences between the movie adaptation and the original novel which I will get into later on in this post, albeit in a smaller section, as this analysis is mainly focused on the movie adaptation. I will talk about the basics (summaries for the movie and the game, specifically the Penacony mission in tandem with Ratio and Aventurine) before diving into the character and scene parallels, among other things.

—

[THE NAME]

The term "double indemnity" is a clause in which if there’s a case of accidental death of a statistically rare variety, the insurance company has to pay out multiple of the original amount. This excludes deaths by murder, suicide, gross negligence, and natural causes.

The part of the mission in Cat Among Pigeons where Ratio and Aventurine meet with Sunday is named after the movie. And before we get further into things, let's get this part out of the way: The Chinese name used in the mission is the CN title of the movie, so there's no liberties taken with the localization — this makes it clear that it’s a nod to the movie and not localization doing its own thing like with the mission name for Heaven Is A Place On Earth (EN) / This Side of Paradise (人间天堂) (CN).

—

[SUMMARY OF THE 1944 MOVIE]

Here I summarised the important parts that will eventually be relevant in the analysis related to the game.

Insurance salesman Walter Neff, wounded from a gunshot, enters his office and confesses his crime on a dictaphone to his boss Barton Keyes, the claims manager. Much earlier, he had met Phyllis Dietrichson, the wife of Mr. Dietrichson and former nurse. Neff had initially wanted to meet Mr. Dietrichson because of car insurance. Phyllis claims her husband is mean to her and that his life insurance goes to his daughter Lola. With Neff seduced by Phyllis, they eventually brew up a scheme to murder Mr. Dietrichson in such a way that they activate the "double indemnity" clause, and the plan goes off almost perfectly. Initially, the death is labeled a suicide by the president of the company, Norton. 

Keyes finds the whole situation suspicious, and starts to suspect Phyllis may have had an accomplice. The label on the death goes from accidental, to suicide, to then murder. When it’s ruled that the husband had no idea of the accidental policy, the company refuses to pay. Neff befriends Phyllis’ stepdaughter Lola, and after finding out Phyllis may have played a part in the death of her father’s previous wife, Neff begins to fear for Lola and himself, as the life insurance would go all towards her, not Phyllis.

After the plan begins to unravel as a witness is found, it comes out that Lola’s boyfriend Nino Zachette has been visiting Phyllis every night after the murder. Neff goes to confront Phyllis, intending to kill her. Phyllis has her own plans, and ends up shooting him, but is unable to fire any more shots once she realises she did love him. Neff kills her in two shots. Soon after telling Zachette not to go inside the house, Neff drives to his office to record the confession. When Keyes arrives, Neff tells him he will go to Mexico, but he collapses before he could get out of the building.

—

[THE PENACONY MISSION TIMELINE]

I won’t be summarising the entirety of Aventurine and Ratio’s endeavours from the beginning of their relationship to their final conversation in Heaven Is A Place On Earth the same way as I summarised the plot of the movie, so I will instead present a timeline. Bolded parts means they are important and have clear parallels, and texts that are in [brackets] and italics stand for the names of either the light cone, or the mission names.

[Final Victor] Their first meeting. Ratio’s ideals are turned on its head as he finally meets his match.

Several missions happen in-between their first encounter and the Penacony project. They come to grow so close and trusting with each other that they can guess, understand each other’s thoughts, way of thinking and minds even in high stakes missions. Enough to pull off the Prisoner’s Dilemma (Aventurine’s E1) and Stag Hunt Game (Aventurine’s E6) and come out on top.

Aventurine turns towards Ratio for assisting him in the Penacony project. Ratio's involvement in the project is implied to be done without the knowledge of Jade, Topaz, and the IPC in general, as he was only sent to Penacony to represent the Intelligentsia Guild, and the two other Stonehearts never mention Ratio.

Aventurine and Ratio cook up the plan to deceive Sunday before ever setting foot on Penacony. Aventurine does not tell Ratio the entirety of his plan.

Aventurine convinces Topaz and Jade to trust him with their Cornerstones. Aventurine also breaks his own Cornerstone and hides it along with the jade within a bag of gift money.

[The Youth Who Chase Dreams] They enter Penacony in the Reverie Hotel. Aventurine is taken to the side by Sunday and has all his valuables taken, which includes the gift money that contains the broken aventurine stone, the jade, and the case containing the topaz.

Aventurine and Ratio speak in a “private” room about how Aventurine messed up the plan. After faking an argument to the all-seeing eyes of Sunday, Ratio leaves in a huff.

Ratio, wearing his alabaster head, is seen around Golden Hour in the (Dusk) Auction House by March 7th.

[Double Indemnity] Ratio meets up with Sunday and “exposes” Aventurine to him. Sunday buys his “betrayal”, and is now in possession of the topaz and jade. Note that this is in truth Ratio betraying Sunday all along.

Ratio meets up with Aventurine again at the bar. Ratio tells Aventurine Sunday wants to see him again.

They go to Dewlight Pavilion and solve a bunch of puzzles to prove their worth to Sunday.

They meet up with Sunday. Sunday forces Aventurine to tell the truth using his Harmony powers. Ratio cannot watch on. It ends with Aventurine taking the gift money with his Cornerstone.

[Heaven Is A Place On Earth] They are in Golden Hour. Ratio tries to pry Aventurine about his plan, but Aventurine reins him in to stop breaking character. Ratio gives him the Mundanite’s Insight before leaving. This is their final conversation before Aventurine’s grandest death.

Now how exactly does the word “double indemnity” relate to their mission in-game? What is their payout? For the IPC, this would be Penacony itself — Aventurine, as the IPC ambassador, handing in the Jade Cornerstone as well as orchestrating a huge show for everybody to witness his death, means the IPC have a reason to reclaim the former prison frontier. As for Ratio, his payout would be information on Penacony’s Stellaron, although whether or not this was actually something he sought out is debatable. And Aventurine? It’s highly implied that he seeks an audience with Diamond, and breaking the Aventurine Cornerstone is a one way trip to getting into hot water with Diamond. With Aventurine’s self-destructive behaviour, however, it would also make sense to say that death would be his potential payout, had he taken that path in the realm of IX.

Compared to the movie, the timeline happens in reverse and opposite in some aspects. I will get into it later. As for the intended parallels, these are pretty clear and cut:

Veritas Ratio - Walter Neff

Aventurine - Phyllis Dietrichson

Sunday - Mr. Dietrichson

There is one other character who I feel also is represented in Ratio, but I won’t bring them up until later down the line.

For the sake of this analysis, I won’t be exploring Sunday’s parallel to Mr. Dietrichson, as there isn’t much on Dietrichson’s character in the first place in both the movie and the novel. He just kind of exists to be a bastard that is killed off at the halfway point. Plus, the analysis is specifically hyper focused on the other two.

—

[SO, WHAT’S THE PLAN?]

To make things less confusing in the long run whenever I mention the words “scheme” and “plan”, I will be going through the details of Phyllis and Neff’s scheme, and Aventurine and Ratio’s plan respectively. Anything that happens after either pair separate from another isn’t going to be included. Written in a way for the plans to have gone perfectly with no outside problems.

Phyllis and Neff —> Mr. Dietrichson

Goal: Activate the double indemnity clause by killing Mr. Dietrichson and making it look like a freak train accident

Payout: Twice or more of the face value of the life insurance ($100,000)

Main Actor: Walter Neff    |    Accomplice: Phyllis Dietrichson

During the entire time until the payout, Phyllis and Neff have to make sure to any outsiders that they look like complete strangers instead of lovers in an affair.

Step-by-step:

Neff convinces Mr. Dietrichson to sign the policy with the clause without him suspecting foul play, preferably with a third party to act as an alibi. This is done discreetly, making Mr. Dietrichson not read the policy closely and being told to just sign.

Neff and Phyllis talk to each other about small details through the phone (specified to be never at Phyllis’ own house and never when Neff was in his office) and in the marketplace only, to make their meetings look accidental. They shouldn’t be seen nor tracked together, after all.

Phyllis asks Mr. Dietrichson to take the train. She will be the one driving him to the train station.

On the night of the murder, after making sure his alibi is airtight, Neff sneaks into their residence and hides in their car in the second row seating, behind the front row passenger seat. He wears the same colour of clothes as Mr. Dietrichson.

Phyllis and Mr. Dietrichson get inside the car — Phyllis in the driver’s seat and Mr. Dietrichson in the passenger seat. Phyllis drives. On the way to the train station, she makes a detour into an alley. She honks the horn three times.

After the third honk, Neff breaks Mr. Dietrichson’s neck. The body is then hidden in the second row seating under a rug.

They drive to the train station. Phyllis helps Neff, now posing as Mr. Dietrichson, onto the train. The train leaves the station.

Neff makes it to the observation platform of the parlour car and drops onto the train tracks when nobody else is there.

Phyllis is at the dump beside the tracks. She makes the car blink twice as a signal.

The two drag Mr. Dietrichson’s corpse onto the tracks.

They leave.

When Phyllis eventually gets questioned by the insurance company, she pretends she has no idea what they are talking about and eventually storms off.

Phyllis and Neff continue to lay low until the insurance company pays out.

Profit!

Actual Result: The actual murder plan goes almost smoothly, with a bonus of Mr. Dietrichson having broken a leg. But with him not filing a claim for the broken leg, a witness at the observation platform, and Zachette visiting Phyllis every night after the murder, Keyes works out the murder scheme on his own, but pins the blame on Phyllis and Zachette, not Neff.

Now for Aventurine and Ratio. You can skip this section if you understand how deep their act goes, but to those who need a refresher, here’s a thorough explanation:

Aventurine and Ratio —> Sunday

Goal: Collect the aventurine stone without Sunday knowing, ruin the dream (and create the grandest death)

Payout: Penacony for the IPC, information on the Stellaron for Ratio, a meeting with Diamond / death for Aventurine

Main Actor: Aventurine    |    Accomplice: Veritas Ratio

From the moment they step onto Penacony, they are under Sunday’s ever present and watchful eyes. “Privacy” is a foreign word to The Family. They have to act like they don’t like each other’s company the entire time and feed Sunday information through indirect means so that the eventual “betrayal” by Ratio seems truthful to Sunday. Despite what it looks like, they are closer than one would ever think, and Ratio would never sell out a person purely for information.

Step-by-step:

After Sunday takes away the bag of gift money and box, Aventurine and Ratio talk in a room in the Reverie Hotel.

Aventurine establishes the Cornerstones’ importance, and how he lost the gift money and the case containing the Cornerstones to Sunday. Ratio turns to leave, saying “some idiot ruined everything”, meaning the Cornerstones were vital to their plan. (Note that Ratio is not wearing his alabaster head while saying it to said “idiot”.)

Aventurine then proceeds to downplay the importance of the Cornerstones, stating they are “nothing more than a few rocks” and “who cares if they are gone”. This lets Sunday know that something suspicious may be going on for him to act like it’s nothing, and the mention of multiple stones, and leaves him to look up what a Cornerstone is to the Ten Stonehearts of the IPC.

Ratio points out his absurd choice of outfit, mentioning the Attini Peacock and their song.

Ratio implies that without the aventurine stone, he is useless to the IPC. He also establishes that Aventurine is from Sigonia(-IV), and points out the mark on his neck. To Sunday, this means that Aventurine is shackled to the IPC, and how Aventurine may possibly go through extreme lengths to get the stone back, because a death sentence always looms above him.

Aventurine claims Ratio had done his homework on his background, which can be taken that this is their very first time working together. (It isn’t, and it only takes one look to know that Aventurine is an Avgin because of his unique eyes, so this comment does not make sense even in a “sincere” way, a running theme for the interaction.)

Ratio mentions how the true goal is to reclaim Penacony for the IPC, establishing their ulterior motive for attending the banquet.

Ratio asks if Aventurine went to pre-school in Sigonia after saying trust was reliant on cooperation. Aventurine mentions how he didn’t go to school and how he doesn’t have any parents. He even brings up how friends are weapons of the Avgins. This tells Sunday that the Avgins supposedly are good at manipulation and potentially sees Ratio possibly betraying Aventurine due to his carelessness with his “friends”. Sunday would also then research about the Avgins in general (and research about Sigonia-IV comes straight from the Intelligentsia Guild.)

Ratio goes to Dewlight Pavilion in Sunday’s Mansion and exposes a part of Aventurine’s “plan”. When being handed the suitcase, Ratio opens it up due to his apparent high status in the IPC. He tells Sunday that the Cornerstone in the suitcase is a topaz, not an aventurine, and that the real aventurine stone is in the bag of gift money. This is a double betrayal — on Aventurine (who knows) and Sunday (who doesn’t). Note that while Ratio is not officially an IPC member in name — the Intelligentsia Guild (which is run by the IPC head of the Technology Department Yabuli) frequently collaborates with the IPC. Either Aventurine had given him access to the box, or Ratio’s status in general is ambiguous enough for Sunday not to question him further. He then explains parts of Aventurine’s gamble to Sunday in order to sell the betrayal. Note that Ratio does not ever mention Aventurine’s race to Sunday.

Ratio brings Aventurine to Sunday. Aventurine offers help in the investigation of Robin's death, requesting the gift money and the box in return.

Sunday objects to the trade offer. Aventurine then asks for just the bag. A classic car insurance sales tactic. Sunday then interrogates Aventurine, and uses everything Ratio and Aventurine brought up in the Reverie Hotel conversation and their interactions in the Mansion, as well as aspects that Ratio had brought up to Sunday himself.

Aventurine feigns defeat and ignorance enough so that Sunday willingly lets him go with the gift bag. After all is said and done, Aventurine leaves with the gift money, where the Aventurine Cornerstone is stored all along.

Ratio and Aventurine continue to pretend they dislike each other until they go their separate ways for their respective goals and plans. Aventurine would go on to orchestrate his own demise at the hands of Acheron, and Ratio… lurks in the shadows like the owl he is.

Profit!

Actual Result: The plan goes perfectly, even with minor hiccups like Ratio coming close to breaking character several times and Aventurine being sentenced to execution by Sunday.

This is how Sunday uses the information he gathered against Aventurine:

• Sunday going on a tirade about the way Aventurine dresses and how he’s not one to take risks — Ratio’s comment about Aventurine’s outfit being peacock-esque and how he’s “short of a feather or two”. • “Do you own a Cornerstone?” — Ratio talked about the aventurine stone. • “Did you hand over the Cornerstone to The Family when you entered Penacony?” — Aventurine mentioned the box containing the Cornerstones. • “Does the Cornerstone you handed over to The Family belong to you?” — Aventurine specifically pluralized the word Cornerstone and “a bunch of rocks” when talking to Ratio. • “Is your Cornerstone in this room right now?” — The box in the room supposedly contained Aventurine’s own cornerstone, when Aventurine mentioned multiple stones. • “Are you an Avgin from Sigonia?” —Aventurine mentioned that he’s an Avgin, and Ratio brought up Sigonia. • “Do the Avgins have any ability to read, control, and manipulate one’s own or another’s minds?” — Aventurine’s comment on how friends are weapons, as well as Sunday’s own research on the Avgins, leading him to find out about the negative stereotypes associated with them. • “Do you love your family more than yourself?” — His lost parents. “All the Avgins were killed in a massacre. Am I right?” — Based on Sunday’s research into his background. • “Are you your clan’s sole survivor?” — Same as the last point. “Do you hate and wish to destroy this world with your own hands?” — Ratio mentioned the IPC’s goal to regain Penacony, and Aventurine’s whole shtick is “all or nothing”. • “Can you swear that at this very moment, the aventurine stone is safe and sound in this box?” — Repeat.

As seen here, both duos have convoluted plans that involve the deception of one or more parties while also pretending that the relationship between each other isn’t as close as in reality. Unless you knew both of them personally and their histories, there was no way you could tell that they have something else going on. 

On to the next point: Comparing Aventurine and Ratio with Phyllis and Neff.

—

[NEFF & PHYLLIS — RATIO & AVENTURINE]

With the short summaries of the movie and the mission out of the way, let’s look at Phyllis and Neff as characters and how Aventurine and Ratio are similar or opposite to them.

Starting off with Aventurine and Phyllis. Here is where they are the most similar:

Phyllis is blonde and described as a provocative woman. Aventurine is also a blond and eyes Ratio provocatively in the Final Victor light cone.

Phyllis was put under surveillance after Keyes starts figuring out that the so-called accidental death/suicide may have been a murder after all. Similarly, Aventurine was watched by Sunday the entire time in Penacony.

Phyllis never tells Neff how she's seeing another man on the side to possibly kill him too (as well as how she was responsible for the death of her husband‘s previous wife). Aventurine also didn't tell Ratio the entirety of his plan of his own death.

Phyllis puts on a somewhat helpless act at first but is incredibly capable of making things go her way, having everything seemingly wrapped around her finger. Aventurine — even when putting on a facade that masks his true motives — always comes out at the top.

Now the differences between Aventurine and Phyllis:

Phyllis does not care about her family and has no issue with killing her husband, his previous wife, and possibly her daughter Lola. Opposite of that, Aventurine is a family man… with no family left, as well as feeling an insane level of survivor’s guilt.

Really, Phyllis just… does not care at all about anyone but herself and the money. Aventurine, while he uses every trick in the book to get out on top, does care about the way Jade and Topaz had entrusted him with their Cornerstones, in spite of the stones being worth their lives. 

Phyllis also uses other people to her advantage to get what she wants, often behind other people's backs, with the way she treats Neff and Zachette. Aventurine does as well (what with him making deals with the Trailblazer while also making a deal with Black Swan that involves the Trailblazer). The difference here is Phyllis uses her allure deliberately to seduce men while Aventurine simply uses others as pawns while also allowing others to do the same to himself.

Phyllis makes no attempt at compromising the policy when questioned by Norton. Aventurine ends up compromising by only taking the gift money (which is exactly what he needs).

The wig that Barbara Stanwyck (the actress of Phyllis) wore was chosen to make her look as “sleazy” as possible, make her look insincere and a fraud, a manipulator. A sort of cheapness. Aventurine’s flashy peacock-esque outfit can be sort of seen as something similar, except the outfit isn’t cheap.

Moving on to Ratio’s similarities to Neff… There isn’t much to extrapolate here as Ratio is more of a side character in the grand scheme of Penacony, however this is what I’ve figured out.

Neff has dark hair. Ratio has dark purple hair.

Neff almost never refers to Phyllis by her name when speaking with her, only as “baby”. The few times he refers to her as Phyllis or Mrs. Dietrichson is during their first conversations and when he has to act like he doesn’t know her. Ratio never calls Aventurine by his name when he’s around him — only as “gambler”, sometimes “damned” or “dear” (EN-only) gambler. Only in the Aventurine's Keeping Up With Star Rail episode does Ratio repeatedly say his name, and yet he still calls him by monikers like “gambler” or, bafflingly, a “system of chaos devoid of logic”.

Both Neff and Ratio committed two betrayals: Neff on Mr. Dietrichson and Keyes, and Ratio on Sunday and Aventurine. With the former cases it was to reach the end of the trolley line, and with the latter it was on a man who had put his trust in him.

As for the differences…

Neff is described as someone who’s not smart by his peers. Ratio is someone who is repeatedly idolised and put on a pedestal by other people.

Neff is excellent at pretending to not know nor care for Phyllis whenever he speaks about her with Keyes or when he and she are in a place that could land them in hot water (the office, the mansion when there are witnesses). His acting is on the same level as Phyllis. With Ratio it’s… complicated. While he does pull off the hater act well, he straight up isn’t great at pretending not to care about Aventurine’s wellbeing.

Instead of getting his gunshot wound treated in the hospital like a normal person, Neff makes the absolutely brilliant decision of driving to his office and talking to a dictaphone for hours. Needless to say, this is something a medical doctor like Ratio would never do.

Now here's the thing. Though it's very easy to just look at Phyllis and Neff in the movie and go "okay, Aventurine is Phyllis and Ratio is Neff — end of story" and leave it at that, I find that they both take from the two leads in different ways. Let me explain. Beginning with Aventurine and Neff…

Neff is the one who hatches the plan and encourages Phyllis to go through and claim the double indemnity clause in the first place. He is also the key player of his own risky plan, having to fake being the husband to enter the train as well as fake the death. Aventurine puts himself at great risk just by being in Sunday’s presence, and hoping that Sunday wouldn’t figure out that the green stone he had uncovered wasn’t the aventurine stone.

Adding onto the last point, Neff had fantasised about pulling off the perfect murder for a long time — the catalyst was simply him meeting Phyllis. Aventurine presumably sought out Ratio alone for his plan against Sunday.

Neff makes a roulette wheel analogy and talks about a pile of blue and yellow poker chips (the latter in the script only). I don‘t even have to explain why this is relevant here. (Aventurine’s Ultimate features a roulette wheel and the motif is on his belt, thigh strap, and back, too. And of course, Aventurine is all about his chips.)

Neff has certain ways to hide when he’s nervous, which include hiding his hands in his pockets when they were shaking, putting on glasses so people couldn’t see his eyes. Aventurine hides his left hand behind his back when he’s nervous: Future Aventurine says that "they don't know the other hand is below the table, clutching [his] chips for dear life", and in multiple occasions such as the Final Victor LC, his character trailer, and even in his boss form in the overworld you can see that Aventurine hides his left hand behind his back. And he is also seen with his glasses on sometimes.

Neff says a bunch of stuff to make sure that Phyllis acts her part and does not act out of character (i.e. during their interactions at the market), like how Aventurine repeatedly tries to get Ratio back on track from his subpar acting.

Neff is always one step ahead of the game, and the only reason the plan blows up in his face is due to outside forces that he could not have foreseen (a witness, Keyes figuring out the plan, the broken leg). Aventurine meanwhile plays 5D chess and even with the odds against him, he uses everything he can to come out on the top (i. e. getting Acheron to kill him in the dream).

Even after coming home on the night of the murder, Neff still felt that everything could have gone wrong. Aventurine, with his blessed luck, occasionally wavers and fears everything could go wrong whenever he takes a gamble.

Neff was not put under surveillance by Keyes due to him being extensive with his alibi. After witnessing Robin’s death with eyewitnesses at the scene, the Family had accepted Aventurine’s alibi, though he would be under watch from the Bloodhounds according to Ratio.

Neff talks about the entire murder scheme to the dictaphone. Aventurine during Cat Among Pigeons also retells his plan, albeit in a more convoluted manner, what with his future self and all.

Continuing with Ratio and Phyllis, even with their personalities and motivations being quite different, they do have a few commonalities.

Phyllis was a nurse. Ratio is a medical doctor.

Her name is Greek of origin. Veritas Ratio, though his name is Latin, has Greco-Roman influences throughout his entire character.

The very first scene Phyllis appears in has her wearing a bath towel around her torso. Ratio loves to take baths to clear his mind.

Phyllis was instructed by Neff to be at the market every morning at eleven buying things. Ratio is seen in an auction house with his alabaster head on so no one could recognize him.

Phyllis mostly acts as an accomplice to the scheme, being the one to convince her husband to take the train instead. She is also generally seen only when Neff is involved. Ratio plays the same role as well, only really appearing in the story in relation to Aventurine as well as being the accomplice in Aventurine’s own death. Even him standing in the auction house randomly can be explained by the theory that he and Aventurine had attempted to destabilise Penacony’s economy through a pump and dump scheme.

With these pointers out of the way, let’s take a closer look at select scenes from the film and their relation to the mission and the pair. 

—

[THE PHONE CALL — THE REVERIE HOTEL]

Before the murder, there is a scene with a phone call between Phyllis and Neff discussing the plan while Keyes is in the same room as Neff. Neff has to make sure that Keyes doesn’t think of anything of the phone call, so he acts like he’s calling a “Margie”, and says a bunch of stuff that sounds innocent out of context (“Can’t I call you back, ‘Margie’?” “What color did you pick out?” “Navy blue. I like that fine”), but are actually hinting at the real plan all along (the suit that Mr. Dietrichson wears.)

In a roundabout way, the conversation between Ratio and Aventurine in the Reverie Hotel can be seen as the opposite of that scene — with the two talking about their supposed plan out loud on Penacony ground, a place where the Family (and in turn, Sunday) has eyes everywhere. Despite being in a “private” room, they still act like they hate each other while airing out details that really do not make sense to air out if they really did meet the first time in Penacony (which they didn’t — they’ve been on several missions beforehand). It’s almost like they want a secret third person to know what they were doing, instead of trying to be hushed up about it. The TVs in the room that Sunday can look through based on Inherently Unjust Destiny — A Moment Among The Stars, the Bloodhound statue that disappears upon being inspected, the owl clock on the left which side eyes Ratio and Aventurine, all point to that Sunday is watching their every move, listening to every word.

Rewinding back to before the phone call, in one of the encounters at the marketplace where they “accidentally” run into each other, Phyllis talks about how the trip was off. How her husband wouldn’t get on the train, which was vital for their plan, because of a broken leg. All this, while pretending to be strangers by the passersby. You could say that the part where Ratio almost leaves because Aventurine had “ruined the plan” is the opposite of this, as the husband breaking his leg was something they couldn’t account for, while Aventurine “being short of a few feathers” was entirely part of the plan.

—

[QUESTIONING PHYLLIS — THE INTERROGATION]

This section is going to be a little longer as I will cover two scenes in the movie in a more detailed manner — Mr. Dietrichson signing the policy, and Phyllis being questioned — and how they are represented in the Sunday-Aventurine interrogation and the prior conversation between Ratio and Sunday in multitudes of ways.

Going about their plan, Neff has to make sure that Mr. Dietrichson signs the policy with the double indemnity clause without him knowing the details, all the while having Phyllis (and Lola) in the same room. He and Phyllis have to pretend that they don’t know each other, and that this is just the standard accidental insurance process, instead of signing what would be his downfall. To sell it, he gets Mr. Dietrichson to sign two “copies” of the form, except with Mr. Dietrichson’s second signature, he’s duped into signing the accident insurance policy with the respective clause.

You can tie this to how Ratio goes to Sunday in order to “expose” the lie that the suitcase didn’t actually contain the Aventurine Cornerstone, as well as there being more than one Cornerstone involved in the scheme. Ratio must make sure that Sunday truly believes that he dislikes Aventurine’s company, while also making sure that Sunday doesn’t figure out the actual aventurine stone is broken and hidden in the gift bag. The scheme turns out to be successful, as Sunday retrieves the two Cornerstones, but not the aventurine stone, and truly does think that the green stone he has in his possession is the aventurine.

This whole scene with Sunday is also reminiscent of the interrogation scene in the middle of the movie, where Phyllis was questioned by the boss (Norton) who was deducing that Mr. Dietrichson's death was a suicide, not accidental death. Neff, Phyllis, Keyes and Norton were all in the same room, and Neff and Phyllis had to act like they never knew the other. Phyllis acts like she knows nothing about what Norton insinuates about her husband and eventually, Phyllis explodes in anger and storms out the room, even slamming the door. Her act is very believable to any outsider.

Now back to the Ratio and Sunday conversation. One glaring difference between the movie and here is that his acting isn’t great compared to either Phyllis nor Neff. It never was throughout the Penacony mission. He even comes very close to breaking character several times, and is even defending Aventurine in a somewhat aggressive manner during his one-on-one conversation with Sunday, as in he literally tells Sunday to see a shrink. It’s very different from the way he was acting in Herta Space Station — like Ratio cares about Aventurine too much to keep his hands off.

It's also worth pointing out that Neff doesn't speak a word when Phyllis was being interrogated. Similarly, Ratio is silent throughout the entire scene with Sunday and Aventurine, with his only “line” being a “hm”. When Aventurine calls him a wretch to his face, all he does is look to the side. In fact, he can only look at Aventurine when the other isn’t staring back. Almost like him uttering a single word would give them away. Or his acting is terrible when it has to do with Aventurine, as he has no issue doing the same thing in Crown of the Mundane and Divine (Mundane Troubles).

So, Sunday finds out about the Cornerstones and reveals them to Aventurine, and reasons that he cannot give them back to him because Aventurine had lied. Note that in that same scene, Aventurine attempted to use the two murders that had occurred beforehand against Sunday to retrieve his own cornerstone. Similarly, when it was revealed that Mr. Dietrichson did not know about the accident policy and that the so-called “accidental death” was not, in fact, accidental, the insurance company refused to pay out the money.

Unlike the movie, this was all planned, however. The double-crossing by Ratio, the gift money being the only thing required for Aventurine’s real plan. All of it was an act of betrayal against Sunday, in the same manner as the meticulous planning as Mr. Dietrichson’s murder — To sign the policy, get him to take the train, kill him on the way, and to have Neff pose as the husband on the train until the time is right to get off and lay the body on the tracks. A key difference is that they could not have expected their scheme to be busted wide open due to forces outside of their control, while Ratio and Aventurine went straight down the line for the both of them no matter what.

From here on out, we can conclude that the way Ratio and Aventurine present themselves in Penacony to onlookers is in line with Neff and Phyllis.

—

[“GOODBYE, BABY” — FINAL VICTOR]

And now for the (in)famous light cone, Final Victor. The thing that truly kickstarted the Ratio and Aventurine ship in the fanbase, and the partnership between the two in general. It’s a direct reference to the final confrontation between Neff and Phyllis in the movie.

I’ll fire through all the similarities between the two scenes.

During the respective scenes, Aventurine and Phyllis both outsmart their partner one way or the other: Aventurine with his one-sided game of Russian Roulette, and Phyllis hiding her gun underneath the cushions until Neff turned away.

The guns are owned by Phyllis and Aventurine, not Neff and Ratio.

Phyllis couldn’t bring herself to fire any more shots after she realised she truly did love Neff. Ratio could do nothing but watch as Aventurine did what he did — he couldn’t even pull away if the LC animation is anything to go by him struggling as Aventurine firmly keeps the gun to his chest.

Neff says he doesn’t buy (believe) that Phyllis loved him. She then goes “I’m not asking you to buy […]”. The LC description has Aventurine ask Ratio “You don’t believe me?”, while in the LC animation Ratio straight up says “You expect me to believe you?” and Aventurine answering “Why not, doctor/professor?”

The visual composition of the LC and the scene are nearly identical, from the lighting to the posing to the way Aventurine looks at Ratio — Aventurine and Ratio are even wearing different outfits to fit the scene better. The background in the LC is also like the blinders in the movie, just horizontal.

In the shot where Phyllis’ face is more visible, the way she looks at Neff is strikingly like the way provocatively looks at Ratio. Even their eyes have a visible shine — Phyllis’ eyes brightly shining the moment she realised she really fell in love with Neff, and Aventurine having just a little light return to his eyes in that specific moment.

And now the differences!

Neff holds the gun in his right hand. Aventurine makes Ratio hold his gun in his left.

Neff is the one who takes the gun from Phyllis‘ hand. Aventurine is the one who places the gun in Ratio’s hand and fires it.

Three gunshots are fired. In the movie, Phyllis shoots the first shot and Neff the second and third. Aventurine unloads the gun and leaves only one bullet for this game of Russian Roulette. He pulls the trigger three times, but they all turn out to be blanks.

Phyllis does not break her façade of not smiling until the very last moment where she gets shot. Aventurine is smiling the entire time according to the light cone description, whilst in the animation, it’s only when he guides the gun to his chest that he puts it on.

So, you know how Neff meets Phyllis and it all goes off the rails from there. The way Neff goes from a decent guy to willingly involve himself in a murder scheme, having his morals corrupted by Phyllis. His world having been turned upside down the moment he lays eyes on Phyllis in that first meeting. Doesn’t that sound like something that happened with the Final Victor LC? Ratio, a man all about logic and rationality — a scholar with eight PhDs to his name — all of that is flipped on its head the moment Aventurine pulls out his gun in their first meeting and forces Ratio to play a game of Russian roulette with him. Aventurine casually gambles using his own life like it’s nothing and seemingly without fear (barring his hidden left hand). All or nothing — and yet Aventurine comes out alive after three blanks. Poetic, considering there’s a consumable in the game called “All or Nothing” which features a broken chess piece and a poker chip bound together by a tie. The poker chip obviously represents the gambler, but the chess piece specifically stands for Ratio because he plays chess in his character trailer, his Keeping Up With Star Rail episode and his introduction is centred around him playing chess with himself. Plus, the design of the chess piece has golden accents, similar to his own chess set. In the end, Aventurine will always be the final victor.

Furthermore, Neff had deduced that Phyllis wanted to kill her husband and initially wanted no part in it, but in a subsequent visit it was his own idea that they trigger the double indemnity clause for more money. As the movie progresses though, he starts to have his doubts (thanks in part to him befriending Lola) and makes the move to kill Phyllis when everything starts to come to light. It’s strikingly similar to how Ratio initially wanted no part in whatever Aventurine had in mind when they first met, but in the subsequent missions where they were paired up, he willingly goes along with Aventurine's risky plans, and they come to trust each other. Enough so that Aventurine and Ratio can go to Penacony all on their own and put on an act, knowing that nobody in the IPC other than them can enter the Dreamscape. The mutual respect grew over time, instead of burning passionately before quickly fizzling out like in the movie.

Basically, in one scene, three shots (blanks) start a relationship, and in the other, it ends a relationship. In the anan magazine interview with Aventurine, he says himself that “form[ing] an alliance with just one bullet” with Ratio was one of his personal achievements. The moment itself was so impactful for both parties that it was immortalised and turned into a light cone.

—

[THE ENDING — GOLDEN HOUR]

The ending of Double Indemnity that made it into the final cut has Neff continue his confession on the dictaphone until he realised that he wasn’t alone in the room. Keyes had come inside at some point, but none had said a thing, only listening to a dead man speak of his crime. When Neff sees Keyes, they talk for a moment, Neff says he plans on fleeing to Mexico. Keyes does not think he will make it. He tries to leave, only to collapse at the front of the elevator, Keyes following just behind him. Neff attempts to light a cigar but is too weak to do so, so Keyes does it for him.

Parts of the ending can still be attributed to the interrogation scene between Sunday and Aventurine, so I’ll make this quick before moving on to the conversation in Heaven Is A Place On Earth, Ratio and Aventurine’s final conversation together. Once Sunday mentions how quickly Aventurine gave up the suitcase, he inflicts the Harmony’s consecration on him, which forces Aventurine to confess everything that Sunday asks of. In a way, it’s the opposite of what happens in the movie — where Neff willingly tells the truth about the murder to his coworker. Aventurine does not like Sunday, and Neff is close to Keyes. Ratio also does not speak, similarly to how Keyes didn’t speak and stood silently off to the side.

Post-interrogation in Golden Hour, Ratio worriedly prods at Aventurine and asks him about his plan. He then gives him the Mundanite’s Insight with the Doctor’s Advice inside when Aventurine tells him to leave. Throughout Heaven Is A Place On Earth, Aventurine gets weaker and his head starts to buzz, until he falls to the ground before he can hand in the final gems. Similarly, Neff progressively grows weaker as he records his confession. Keyes says he’s going to call a doctor and Neff says he’s planning to go to Mexico. And when Neff collapses near the elevator, they talk one final time and Keyes lights Neff’s cigar as the other was too weak to do so himself.

—

[OPPOSITE TIMELINES AND DEVELOPMENTS]

Remember how I said the way certain events happen in the movie and the game are mostly opposite and reverse of one another? 

The Final Victor LC is the first meeting of Ratio and Aventurine, and Neff killing Phyllis is their final meeting.

Between that first and last meeting between Phyllis and Neff’s whirlwind romance, their relationship becomes strained which ultimately leads to Neff not trusting whatever Phyllis has to say at the end point of the movie. As for Ratio and Aventurine, the exact opposite had happened, to the point where Ratio trusts Aventurine enough to go along with his plans even if they went against his own ideals. The basis of the mission involved Veritas Ratio, whose full name includes the Latin word for “truth”, lying the entire time on Penacony.

Aventurine is sentenced to the gallows by Sunday after his unwilling interrogation. The movie starts and ends with Neff willingly confessing everything to Keyes.

It bears repeating, but I have to make it so clear that the trust between Ratio and Aventurine runs incredibly deep. Being able to predict what your partner says and thinks and plans in a mission as critical as the Penacony project is not something first-time co-workers can pull off flawlessly. All the while having to put on masks that prevent you from speaking sincerely towards one another lest you rat yourselves out. You have no way of contacting outside reinforcements from within Penacony, as the rest of the IPC are barred from entering. To be able to play everybody for fools while said fools believe you yourselves have handed your case on a silver platter requires a lot — trust, knowledge of the other, past experience, and so on. With Phyllis and Neff, the trust they had had been snuffed out when Neff grew closer to Lola and found out what kind of person Phyllis truly was on the inside. Phyllis did not trust nor love Neff enough and was going behind his back to meet with Zachette to possibly take Neff and Lola out. And the whole reason Neff wanted to perpetrate the murder was due to him being initially taken by Phyllis' appearance, which single handedly got the ball rolling on the crime.

Now then, how come trust is one of the defining aspects of Aventurine and Ratio’s relationship, when Phyllis and Neff’s trust eventually lead to both their deaths at the hands of the other? Sure, this can be explained away with the opposite theory, but there’s one other relationship involving Neff which I haven’t brought up in excruciating detail yet. The other side of Ratio and Aventurine’s relationship.

—

[NEFF & KEYES — AVENTURINE & RATIO]

Here is where it gets more interesting — while Phyllis and Neff are at the centre point of the movie, there is another character to whom Neff has a close relationship with — Keyes. It’s also the only relationship with no pretences, at least, until the whole murder thing happened and Neff had to hide his involvement from Keyes. Watching the movie, I couldn't help but feel there was something more to the two than meets the eye. I knew that queer readings of the film existed, but I didn't think too much of them until now. And though Aventurine and Ratio parallel Phyllis and Neff respectively, the fact that they also have traits of their opposite means that it wouldn’t be completely out of the question if parts of their relationship were also influenced by Keyes and Neff on a deeper and personal level. Let me explain.

Keyes and Neff were intimate friends for eleven years and have shown mutual respect and trust towards one another. They understood each other on a level not seen with Phyllis and Neff. Even after hearing Neff confess his crimes through the dictaphone (and eventually standing in the same room while Neff confessed), he still cared for the other man, and stayed with him when Neff collapsed at the front door. The only reason Keyes hadn’t deduced that it was Neff who was behind the murder was because he had his absolute trust in him. Keyes is also Neff’s boss, and they are always seen exchanging playful banter when they are on screen together. Neff even says the words “I love you, too” twice in the movie — first at the beginning and second at the end, as the final line. There’s also the persistent theme of Neff lighting Keyes’ cigarettes (which happens in every scene where they are face-to-face), except in the end where it’s Keyes who lights Neff’s.

Doesn’t that sound familiar? Mutual respect, caring too much about the other person, the immense amount of trust… Ratio says he’s even the manager of the Penacony project (which may or may not be a lie), and despite their banter being laced with them acting as “enemies”, you can tell that in Dewlight Pavilion pre-Sunday confrontation that Aventurine genuinely likes Ratio’s company and believes him to be a reliable person. From the way he acts carefree in his words to the thoughts in his head, as seen in the mission descriptions for Double Indemnity. Their interactions in that specific mission are possibly the closest thing to their normal way of speaking that we get to see on Penacony.

Not to mention, this is the way Neff describes Keyes. He even says (not in the script) “you never fooled me with your song and dance, not for a second.” Apart from the line about the cigar ashes, doesn’t this ring a bell to a certain doctor? “Jerk” with a heart of gold?

After solving the puzzle with the statues, Ratio jokingly offers Aventurine to join the Genius Society. Aventurine then goes "Really? I thought you’ve given up on that already", and then Ratio says it was, in fact, a joke. Solving the puzzle through brute force has Ratio telling Aventurine that the Council of Mundanites (which Ratio himself is a part of) should consider him a member. In the movie, where the scene with the phone call with Neff and Phyllis reiterating details of their plan happens, Keyes actually offered Neff a better job (specifically a desk job, as Keyes’ assistant). The two pairs saw the other as smart, equals, and were invested in each other’s careers one way or another.

Because of all this, the character parallels for this side of the relationship are as follows:

Aventurine - Walter Neff

Veritas Ratio - Barton Keyes

With the way I’ve talked about how Aventurine and Ratio take from both leads in terms, it does fit to say that Aventurine is Neff, and Ratio is Keyes in this layer of their relationship. Since we’re on the topic of Keyes, let me also go through some similarities with him and Ratio specifically.

Keyes says the words “dimwitted amateurs” in his first on-screen conversation with Neff. You can’t have Dr. Ratio without him talking about idiocy in some way.

Keyes almost only appears in the movie in relation to Neff, and barring a single interaction in Neff’s house, is also only seen in the office. Same with Phyllis, Ratio also only ever appears regarding Aventurine.

Keyes genuinely wanted the best for Neff, even offering to celebrate with him when he thought the case truly had been busted wide open by forces when Zachette entered the picture. You could say the same for Ratio, as he hoped that Aventurine wouldn’t dwell on the past according to his response on Aventurine’s Interview, as well as telling him to “stay alive/live on (CN)” and wishing him the best of luck in his Doctor’s Advice note.

Whether or not you believe that there was more going on with Neff and Keyes is up to you, but what matters is that the two were very close. Just like Ratio and Aventurine.

—

[THE ORIGINAL FILM ENDING]

Something that I hadn’t seen brought up is the original ending of Double Indemnity, where Neff is executed in a gas chamber while Keyes watches on, shocked, and afterwards leaves somberly. The ending was taken out because they were worried about the Hays Code, but I felt it was important to bring it up, because in a way, you can kind of see the Sunday interrogation scene as Sunday sending Aventurine to his death in seventeen system hours. And Ratio doesn’t speak at all in that scene, and Keyes doesn’t either according to the script.

Another thing that’s noteworthy is that Wilder himself said “the story was about the two guys” in Conversations with Wilder. The two guys in question are Keyes and Neff.

—

[THE NOVEL]

With the original film ending covered, now it is time to bring up the novel by James M. Cain. I bought the book just to read about the differences between the adaptation and the original source material, and to list a few more similarities and opposites I could gather. For this section alone, due to the changes in the (last) names of certain characters, I will be referring to Walter Huff (Neff in the movie) as Walter, and Mr. Dietrichson as Nirdlinger. The plot is pretty much the same as the movie’s apart from a couple of changes so there isn’t a need to recount everything.

From my two read-throughs of the novel, these are the following passages that stood out to me the most. Starting with Aventurine:

Walter, as a top businessman of the company, knows how to sway a deal and to get what he truly wants with what the other gives him. Aventurine is the same, reliant on his intuition, experience and whatever information he has on the table to claim the win. Him luring out Sparkle in Heaven Is A Place On Earth and his conversation with Acheron in the Nihility is indicative of that.

• "But you sell as many people as I do, you don't go by what they say. You feel it, how the deal is going. And after a while I knew this woman didn't care anything about the Automobile Club. Maybe the husband did, but she didn't. There was something else, and this was nothing but a stall. I figured it would be some kind of a proposition to split the commission, maybe so she could get a ten-spot out of it without the husband knowing. There's plenty of that going on. And I was just wondering what I would say to her." 

Phyllis, like in the movie, had been hiding her true intentions of talking to Walter in their first conversations, always saying things that she didn’t actually mean. In a similar vein, Aventurine consistently says stuff but almost never truly means any of it, which is all part of his façade.

• "And I could feel it again, that she wasn't saying what she meant. It was the same as it was the first afternoon I met her, that there was something else, besides what she was telling me. And I couldn't shake it off, that I had to call it on her."

When discussing the murder plan with Phyllis, Walter makes this comment, kind of like how Aventurine seems to operate in a way where he has a plan, but is ready to improvise and think fast when needed.

• "And then it's one of those things where you've got to watch for your chance, and you can't plan it in advance, and know where you're going to come out to the last decimal point."

Remember the roulette wheel line from the movie? In the novel, the gambling metaphor that Walter makes about the insurance business goes on for two paragraphs, mentioning a gambling wheel, stack of chips, a place with a big casino and the little ivory ball, even about a bet on the table. Walter also talks about how he thinks of tricks at night after being in the business for so long, and how he could game the system. Needless to say, insanely reminiscent of Aventurine.

• "You think I’m nuts? All right, maybe I am. But you spend fifteen years in the business I’m in, and maybe a little better than that, it’s the friend of the widow, the orphan, and the needy in time of trouble? It’s not. It’s the biggest gambling wheel in the world. It don’t look like it, but it is, from the way they figure the percentage on the oo to the look on their face when they cash your chips. You bet that your house will burn down, they bet it won’t, that’s all. What fools you is that you didn’t want your house to burn down when you made the bet, and so you forget it’s a bet. To them, a bet is a bet, and a hedge bet don’t look any different than any other bet. But there comes a time, maybe, when you do want your house to burn down, when the money is worth more than the house. And right there is where the trouble starts." • "Alright, I’m an agent. I’m a croupier in that game. I know all their tricks, I lie awake thinking up tricks, so I’ll be ready for them when they come at me. And then one night I think up a trick, and get to thinking I could crook the wheel myself if I could only put a plant out there to put down my bet." • "I had seen so many houses burned down, so many cars wrecked, so many corpses with blue holes in their temples, so many awful things that people had pulled to crook the wheel, that that stuff didn’t seem real to me anymore. If you don’t understand that, go to Monte Carlo or some other place where there’s a big casino, sit at a table, and watch the face of the man that spins the little ivory ball. After you’ve watched it a while, ask yourself how much he would care if you went out and plugged yourself in the head. His eyes might drop when he heard the shot, but it wouldn’t be from the worry whether you lived or died. It would be to make sure you didn’t leave a bet on the table, that he would have to cash for your estate. No, he wouldn’t care."

Returning home from the murder, Walter attempted to pray, but was unable to do it. Some time passed and after speaking to Phyllis, he prayed. Aventurine presumably hadn’t done the prayer ever since the day of the massacre, and the first time he does it again, he does it with his child self.

• "I went to the dining room and took a drink. I took another drink. I started mumbling to myself, trying to get so I could talk. I had to have something to mumble. I thought of the Lord's Prayer. I mumbled that, a couple of times. I tried to mumble it another time, and couldn't remember how it went." • "That night I did something I hadn’t done in years. I prayed."

Phyllis in the book is much more inclined towards death than her movie version, even thinking of herself as a personification of death. She’s killed ten other people (including infants) prior to the events of the novel. Something to keep in mind as Aventurine had mentioned several times that he attempted to kill himself in the dream, plus his leadup to his “grandest death”. Just like Phyllis, he’s even killed at least a few people before, though the circumstances of that were less on his own volition and more so for the sake of his survival (i.e. the death game in the maze involving the 34 other slaves where he was the winner and another time where he murdered his own master). Instead of Phyllis playing the active role of Death towards everybody else, Aventurine himself dances with Death with every gamble, every time his luck comes into play. Danse Macabre.

• "But there’s something in me, I don’t know what. Maybe I’m crazy. But there’s something in me that loves Death. I think of myself as Death, sometimes." • "Walter, The time has come. For me to meet my bridegroom [Death]. The only one I ever loved."

Moving on to Ratio:

Walter says several times that it’s hard to get along with Keyes, and how he says nice things after getting you all worked up. A hard-headed man to get along with, but damn good at his job. Sound like someone familiar?

• "That would be like Keyes, that even when he wanted to say something nice to you, he had to make you sore first."  • "It makes your head ache to be around him, but he’s the best claim man on the Coast, and he was the one I was afraid of."

Keyes sees Walter as smarter than half the fools in the company. Ratio can only stand the company of Aventurine in regards to the IPC.

• "Walter, I'm not beefing with you. I know you said he ought to be investigated. I've got your memo right here on my desk. That's what I wanted to tell you. If other departments of this company would show half the sense that you show—" • "Oh, he confessed. He's taking a plea tomorrow morning, and that ends it. But my point is, that if you, just by looking at that man, could have your suspicions, why couldn't they—! Oh well, what's the use? I just wanted you to know it."

After going on a rant about the H.S. Nirdlinger case (Phyllis’ husband) and how Norton is doing a horrible job, he ends it by saying that it’s sheer stupidity. “Supreme idiocy”, anybody?

• "You can’t take many body blows like this and last. Holy smoke. Fifty thousand bucks, and all from dumbness. Just sheer, willful, stupidity!"

Phyllis’ former occupation as a nurse is more elaborated on, including her specialization — pulmonary diseases. One of Ratio’s crowning achievements is curing lithogenesis, the “King of Diseases”.

• "She’s one of the best nurses in the city of Los Angeles. […] She’s a nurse, and she specialized in pulmonary diseases. She would know the time of crisis, almost to a minute, as well as any doctor would."

As for the murder scheme, they talk about it a lot more explicitly in the novel. Specifically, Walter mentions how a single person cannot get away with it and that it requires more people to be involved. How everything is known to the party committing the crime, but not the victim. And most importantly: Audacity.

"Say, this is a beauty, if I do say it myself. I didn't spend all this time in the business for nothing, did I? Listen, he knows all about this policy, and yet he don't know a thing about it. He applies for it, in writing, and yet he don't apply for it. He pays me for it with his own check, and yet he don't pay me. He has an accident happen to him and yet he don't have an accident happen to him. He gets on the train, and yet he don't get on it."

"The first is, help. One person can't get away with it, that is unless they're going to admit it and plead the unwritten law or something. It takes more than one. The second is, the time, the place, the way, all known in advance—to us, but not him. The third is, audacity. That's the one that all amateur murderers forget. They know the first two, sometimes, but that third, only a professional knows. There comes a time in any murder when the only thing that can see you through is audacity, and I can't tell you why."

"And if we want to get away with it, we've got to do it the way they do it, […]" "Be bold?" "Be bold. It's the only way."

"I still don't know—what we're going to do." "You'll know. You'll know in plenty of time."

"We were right up with it, the moment of audacity that has to be be part of any successful murder."

It fits the situation that Aventurine and Ratio find themselves in extremely well: For the first point— Aventurine would not be able to get away with simply airing out details by himself, as that would immediately cast suspicion on him. Having another person accompany him who not only isn’t really a part of the IPC in name (as the IPC and The Family have a strenuous relationship) but would probably be able to get closer to Sunday because of that means they can simply bounce off each other without risking as much suspicion with a one-man army. Which is exactly what Ratio and Aventurine do in the conversations they have on Penacony. Secondly — they knew how Sunday operates: as a control freak, he leaves no stone unturned, which is how he became Head of the Oak Family, so their acting required them to give off the impression that a. they hated each other, b. Ratio would go against Aventurine’s wishes and expose him in return for knowledge, c. there were only the two Cornerstones that were hidden. This would give Sunday the illusion of control, and lead to Sunday to lower his guard long enough for Aventurine to take the gift money in the end. The pair knew this in advance, but not Sunday. And thirdly — the plan hinged on a high-level of risk. From breaking the Aventurine Cornerstone, to hoping that Sunday wouldn’t find it in the gift bag, to not telling Ratio what the true plan is (meaning Ratio had to figure it out on his own later on), to Sunday even buying Ratio’s story, it was practically the only way they could go about it. “Charming audacity”, indeed.

An interesting aspect about the novel is that the ending of the novel is divergent from the movie’s final cut and the original ending: Phyllis and Walter commit suicide during a ferry ride to Mexico. The main reason this was changed for the movie was because of the Hays Code, and they wouldn’t allow a double suicide to be screened without reprecussions for criminals. There’s also a bunch of other aspects that differentiate the novel from the movie (no narration-confession as the confession happens in a hospital, less characterization for Keyes and instead a bigger focus on Lola and her boyfriend, the focus on the murderous aspect of Walter and Phyllis’ relationship instead of actual romance, Walter falling in love with Lola (with an unfortunately large age gap attached), etc.)

As for the ending, this wouldn’t even be the first romance media reference related to Aventurine and Ratio where both the leads die, with the other being The Happy Prince and San Junipero (in relation to the EN-only Heaven Is A Place On Earth reference), which I normally would chalk up as a coincidence, though with the opposite line-of-thought I have going on here (and the fact that it’s three out of four media references where the couple die at the end…), I think it’s reasonable to say that Ratio and Aventurine will get that happy ending. Subverting expectations, hopefully.

—

[THE HAYS CODE — LGBT CENSORSHIP IN CHINA]

I’ve brought up the Hays code twice now in the previous two sections, but I haven’t actually explained what exactly it entails.

The Hays Code (also known as the Motion Picture Production Code) is a set of rules and guidelines imposed on all American films from around 1934 to 1968, intended to make films less scandalous, morally acceptable and more “safe” for the general audiences. Some of the “Don’ts” and “Be Carefuls” include but are not limited to…

(Don’t) Pointed profanity

(Don’t) Inference of sex perversion (which includes homosexuality)

(Don’t) Nudity

(Be Careful) Sympathy for criminals

(Be Careful) Use of firearms

(Be Careful) Man and woman in bed together

What does this have to do with a Chinese gacha game released in 2023? If you know a little bit about miHoYo’s past, you would know that pre-censorship laws being upheld to a much stronger and stricter degree, they had no problem showcasing their gay couples in Guns Girl Z (Honkai Gakuen 2/GGZ) and Honkai Impact 3rd, with the main three being Bronya/Seele, Kiana/Mei (admittedly the latter one is a more recent example, from 2023), and Sakura/Kallen. Ever since the Bronya and Seele kiss, censorship in regards to LGBT content ramped up, causing the kiss to be removed on the CN side, and they had to lay low with the way they present two same-sex characters who are meant to be together. They can’t explicitly say that two female or male characters are romantically involved, but they can lace their dynamics with references for those “in the know” — Subtext. Just enough to imply something more but not too much that they get censored to hell and back.

So what I’m getting at is this: The trouble that Double Indemnity had to go through in order to be made while also keeping the dialogue of Phyllis and Neff as flirtatious as they could under the Hays Code among other things is quite similar to the way Ratio and Aventurine are presented as of now. We never see them interact outside of Penacony (at least up until 2.2, when this post was drafted), so we can only infer those interactions specifically until they actually talk without the fear of being found out by Sunday. But, there’s still some small moments scattered here and there, such as when Aventurine goes near Ratio in the Dewlight Pavilion Sandpit, he exclaims that “the view here is breathtaking” (he can only see Ratio’s chest from that distance) and that Ratio could “easily squash [him] with just a pinch”. Ratio then goes “If that is your wish, I will do so without a moment’s hesitation.” Not to mention the (in)famous “Doctor, you’re huge!” quote.

It’s not a coincidence that Ratio and Aventurine have three explicit references to romance media (Double Indemnity, Spellbound, Oscar Wilde’s The Happy Prince), possibly even four if you take the EN-only Heaven Is A Place On Earth as a reference to Black Mirror’s San Junipero. It’s not a coincidence that the storylines or characters of said references parallel the pairing, from surface-level to deep cuts. It’s not a coincidence that the CN voice actors were asked to “tone it down” by the voice director when it came to their chemistry. It’s not a coincidence that Aventurine has only flirted with (three) men throughout Penacony, even referring to a Bloodhound NPC as a “hunk of a man” inside his thoughts, all the while ignoring Himeko and Robin when it came to their looks — women who are known across the cosmos with a myriad of adoring fans. There are so many other so-called “coincidences” related to the two that you could make an iceberg just based on versions 2.0-2.2 as well as content miHoYo themselves have put out on social media. They absolutely knew what they were doing, and were trying to get their point across through subtle means — the extent they went to with the Double Indemnity reference while also keeping it under wraps from a “surface” level point of view is proof of this — the implications are there if you take the time to look for them, and are simply hard to ignore or deny once you do find them.

—

[CONCLUSION]

This was supposed to be short considering the other analyses I’ve seen were also pretty short in comparison, but I couldn’t get the movie out of my head and ended up getting carried away in the brainrot. I hope you could follow along with my line of thinking, even with the absurd length of this post, and the thirty-image limit. I tried to supplement context with some links to videos and wiki pages among other sources wherever I can to get around it.

I will end it with this though — the love in the movie turned out to be fake and a farce, going off track from what was a passionate romance in the beginning because of the murder scheme. Meanwhile, the whole reason why Ratio and Aventurine can pull off whatever they want is because of their immense trust in one another. What was initially shown to be distrust in the Final Victor LC grew into something more, for Ratio, someone who would have never put faith into mere chance and probability before this, put his trust in Aventurine, of all people.

TL;DR — (I get it, it’s over ten thousand words.)

Not only is the relationship between Neff and Phyllis represented in the deception and acting side of Ratio and Aventurine, but the real and trusting side is shown in Neff and Keyes. They have a fascinating, multi-layered dynamic that is extremely fun to pick apart once you realise what’s going on underneath the bickering and “hatred” they display.

Many thanks to Manya again for making the original thread on the movie. I wouldn’t be here comparing the game and movie myself if it weren’t for that.

By the way, I really do believe that Shaoji totally watched this movie at least once and really wanted that Double Indemnity AU for his OCs. I know exactly how it feels.

—

Other points I'd like to mention that didn't fit anywhere else in the main analysis and/or don’t hold much significance, have nothing to do with the Penacony mission, or may even be considered reaching (...if some of the other points weren’t). Just some potentially interesting side bits.

Phyllis honks three times to signal Neff to go for the kill. That, and the three gunshots in the confrontation. Aventurine is all about the number three.

The height difference Aventurine and Ratio have going on is close to Phyllis and Neff’s.

Phyllis had killed her husband’s previous wife and went on to marry Mr. Dietrichson, pretty much taking the wife’s place. Aventurine killed his previous master, and had taken certain attributes from him like his wristwatch and the rings on his hand and the “all or nothing” mantra.

When calling Ratio a wretch (bastard), Aventurine smiles for a moment. This is exclusive to the EN, KR and JP voiceovers, as in CN, he does not smile at all. (Most definitely a quirk from the AI they use for lip syncing, but the smile is something that’s been pointed out quite a few times so I thought I’d mention it here.)

Sunday specifically says in the CN version that he knew of Aventurine's plans the moment Aventurine left the mansion, meaning that he realized he had been played the fool the moment Ratio and Aventurine talked in Golden Hour

In the description for the "All or Nothing" consumable, teenage Aventurine says this specific line: "Temptation is a virtue for mortals, whereas hesitation proves to be a fatal flaw for gamblers." According to Ratio, this is Aventurine's motto - he says as such in Aventurine's Keeping Up With Star Rail episode. Note that in the anan interview he explicitly says he does not have a motto, and yet Ratio in the video says otherwise. They definitely have to know each other for a while for Ratio to even know this.

A big reason why Neff even pulled off the murder scheme in the first place was because he wanted to see if his good friend Keyes could figure it out, the Mundane Troubles Trailblaze Continuance showcases Ratio attempting to teach the Herta Space Station researches a lesson to not trust the Genius society as much as they did.

In Keyes’ first scene he’s exposing a worker for writing a policy on his truck that he claimed had burnt down on its own, when he was the one who burnt it down. Ratio gets into an Ace Attorney-style argument with the Trailblazer in Mundane Troubles.

Neff talks repeatedly about how it won’t be sloppy. Nothing weak. And how it’ll be perfect to Phyllis, and how she’s going to do it and he’s going to help her. Doing it right — “straight down the line”. Beautifully ironic, considering what happens in the movie, and even more ironic as Ratio and Aventurine’s scheme went exactly the way they wanted to in the end. Straight down the line.

[kooyabooya]

BABYLON

m reader x sana // 26k words

Almighty hand to God, there had been much, much worse situations to get yourself stuck in. 

If there’s any sort of consolation to fall back on, you’d wish that you’d say something earlier, call this off with a simple push and shove on the way out the door, close it and wrap up nicely with no worry filling your mind. 

It’s not that easy, though. 

Never was to begin with. 

Not when you have the lights off in your study, the sound of laughs downstairs surrounding the dining table, really fucked how you’ve hidden away from everyone else - also wanting to at the same time because all of them would have the same thread of thoughts running through their head if they saw you at the front of your desk with another body pressed towards you. 

“Don’t get so worked up,” Sana tells you, lips fast across your neck while her singular hand is well deep into the grip of your shaft. You could feel her breath slip through the opening when her lips are back on yours, the taste of her is already addicting the more she leans, a hand in her hair trying to give more, fighting, but losing drastically. 

What you give, Sana takes. That’s usually how it works in most cases like these with her. You can’t stop, you won’t stop. It’s already difficult to break away once she’s lowering your inhibitions without the use of alcohol. 

“Maybe I should deal with you right now instead of later,” you tell her, hiding the smallest hint of worry when your hands find Sana’s hips. She’s proud of the sigh she lets out against your mouth when pulling away before you’re quick to drag her back in. “Let the whole world below know of the things you’re doing to me right now?” 

You won’t stop giving in, because Sana gets you. Just like that. 

“Have them screaming in shock when you bend me over the desk fucking me?” Sana asks, a tempting offer above a whisper at that. It also doesn’t help that she’s giggling at the thought of you doing exactly what she proposes. “Sounds hot,” she says, huskily, “because I know you would.” 

This was never supposed to happen. Hell, this was the last thing you expected to happen. All of the possibilities in repercussions start flowing through your head again because this was definitely not the first time you’ve surrendered yourself to Sana’s advances, nor that you didn't want to. 

She’s like quick sand, pulling you from underneath into the catacombs of temptations that would have Satan himself impressed if he could see you right now. Or how this woman at her fingertips is breaking down every last bit of rational support running through your brain just so that she can draw out the rasps of desperation to get her screaming, shuddering. 

You could lower the flag and raise up the drawbridges - it’s so easy to do. She’s playing all of her cards right, knowing that your hand would never stack up against hers. 

Forget calling a bluff in this house of cards, since the only play you have in your book is to fold. 

–

You see, the events that happened before the wildfire were relatively tame. 

Nothing but wins coming left and right in the avenue of your life. Speaking of avenues, there’s this newly acquired house (all thanks to your surprisingly good credit score) alongside this block that has a new occupant–

“Babe, the place is amazing!” Dahyun exclaims out, arms around your neck once you and her finally make it past the front porch, taking in the high ceilings and matte layout of the new space. All of this wouldn’t have been possible if it weren’t for the countless days and hours of work to achieve this milestone. You’ll be proud of yourself for settling down while others may be working for bigger goals and ambitions. 

(A minor correction: two new occupants.)

The house itself is in a nice area. Not too far from the city, in a pretty well modest community, alongside the hills. Detailing is pretty modern: four bedrooms, three bathrooms, two stories, kitchen was renovated before signing off the lease, ideas for rooms themselves are already drafting from Dahyun’s pinterest board. Knowing that your wife has some good taste, it wasn’t worth deliberating over. You’ve gone through the gauntlet of places in different areas: beachside, close by to your cousins, one was also about a two hour trip away from the city, there’s also this high rise apartment that would’ve been a perfect choice though it never happens. 

There’s some scattered boxes here and there still, but most of the things are already in place from the whole moving process. Aside from all the heavy lifting and not wanting to stain the ring on your finger from the dust and oil when the truck broke down on one of four trips, the beauty of being able to be grounded by the tune of Dahyun’s laughs and witty banter when you’re trying to catalog and take inventory of the things that will be kept and what’s going up for the garage sale you plan to have within the next week or so. 

“I’m just glad that we finally got it over with.” You put her down, eyes overseeing the view past the spacious living room, as well as the boardwalk-esque deck housing the pool right outside. “Absolute hell trying to get the final documents signed, but finally.” 

“I’m so proud of you honey,” Dahyun tells you, hand to your cheek with the most reassuring look that she’s known for giving in your times of crisis. “Had I known that we’d actually get the house after almost signing off on the last place with Jeongyeon–” 

“Our luck was pretty much cut out for us,” you amend, though she’s not thinking of the ‘what could’ve been’ - since the here and now was all that mattered to Dahyun. You wanted this, and she did too. The agreement was not hard to fight over; sights were set, end of discussion. 

“We should give our credit to Jeongyeon for referring us to this place,” Dahyun starts again, trailing off with hands behind her back, chin up when she walks in deeper. Her gaze turns back to you, leaning on the pillar when you’re staring up at the intricate set of lights hanging over the couch. “Didn’t you say this listing was about to be taken down at the last minute?” 

“Almost,” you answer, hugging Dahyun again with your nose in her hair, “Gladly got the call as soon as I found out.” 

Dahyun twists around, arms circling her waist, pulling her closer under your touch. She’s happy, giddy when the tip of your nose is nuzzling hers for a quick second. Cliché, corny even, but you’re in love and she’s in love - something that the new home will be more filled with for years to come. 

“Shouldn’t we empty out the rest of the remaining boxes?” you ask her, hands curling inward on the small of her back, leaning in slowly for the softness of her fingertips across your face, the plushness of her lips on yours. 

This was a brand new start, a turn of the page in the livelihood of things, one act onto the next. 

–

Here’s the thing about new beginnings, most of these aspects are supposed to be taken in a positive light.

Most of the time. 

The subject of change itself is frightening, can make someone anxious at times because of the uncertainty of how things would play from here on out. Naturally, it’s normal for human beings to feel like this - this daunting notion in being uncomfortable because of this collective notion of ‘being stuck in the past’ or ‘to relive the glory days’. Nostalgia is believed to be one of the great unsaid drugs that everyone takes unknowingly without even realizing it. 

Luckily, you’re not facing things alone around these parts of life now. 

Kim ‘the introverted but somewhat still a social butterfly’ Dahyun has this effect on others that makes her extremely likable. Hell, if it weren’t for that characteristic, the ring on her finger wouldn’t have been there in the first place. She just has this quintessential quirk of just being able to click with others like it's nothing, almost as if she’s known someone she’s just met for more than five years. 

It’s an art in itself to admire, a playlist of clips in your mind that you’ll keep replaying over and over whenever the instance occurs. 

You’re willing to be a people person while she does it effortlessly. 

Not even a week after getting settled in, Dahyun was already getting acquainted with the nearby neighbors opposite and adjacent to your place while you’re busy getting the groceries in (since one or two trips are always the priority for the efficiency of less work.) 

If you’re looking at your new house from the street and inwards, the home on your left is owned by Jihyo. She’s lovely, adventurous, mostly in and out of the house on a daily basis. You lean an ear into the conversation while Dahyun’s getting her small garden going that Jihyo was also a pilates coach, the hint taken with the amount of lululemon products she wears and has in her closet in the brief exchanges of hello’s and head nods. In the next house over to the right, there was Chaeyoung’s place. Dahyun tells you over dinner a few nights ago that Chaeyoung is this underground indie artist that’s hardly home because of her tour scheduling and the fact that she’s in London for her Europe leg on the calendar, but was home for a quick break since her brother just came back from the mandatory military service. 

“You know, when I first looked into this cul de sac, I didn’t expect to live next to a considerable amount of celebrities.” you say, tending to the raw set of patties spread across the grill while the backyard of your house was transformed to this small, homey, kickback-style of a housewarming party with nearly everyone invited along the street. “Too early to say I’ve hit the jackpot?” 

“Please,” Jihyo starts, the cup of bourbon in her hand swirling while the smoke is up in the air, “I think you think too highly of this community a lot.” 

“Everyone has something special going on around here, which is nice.” 

“A silent observer,” she murmurs at you, “Dahyun likes that about you, the ability to read people. You could honestly pass that as your hidden talent.” 

“I may not be a people person like her, but if the conversation persists–” 

“He has no problem slotting himself into it like it’s nothing.” Dahyun says over your shoulder, arm snaking your middle while she’s pressing a kiss into the blend of your shirt while you’re flipping burgers on the clock. “The best at it too.” 

Even through the shades of your glasses, you lean over with Dahyun scooching to your left. A white bucket hat is all you see through the lens that’s shielding the top of her head with the monochrome scheme she has with her dress and shirt. Simplicity at its finest with the way she swipes your drink for a quick clink with Jihyo’s before downing it after. 

There’s this mix of food and drinks being dished out, there’s a lot of simple activities spread out across the yard. Some people are in the pool with White Claws on the cupholders of the floaties, another group is playing spikeball that one of them brought over for more variety with the hoop on the outer rim of the boardwalk, the set table for beer pong, and essentially some others that were scribbled off the shopping list. 

You’re weaving in and out of different groups throughout the houseparty - the role of being the host of the party really shows with the amount of times you’ve checked in with everyone in the span of ten to fifteen minutes. It’s all in good graces really, to set a solid first impression while the ambience really sets everyone into a mood. Cooling down once the sunset hits, and all of a sudden the influx of drinks being passed around might be mistaken as a frat party. 

Aside from the inquiries of passing more drinks, you’ve noticed the stigma that’s seeping through the guest’s faces when you’re indulging in conversations, a hierarchy of sorts. And when they see you get cozy in the seat, that’s when the questions occur. 

Mina, the person living in the house on the opposite side of your street asks: so what’s your daytime occupation, if you don’t mind me asking?

Quick on the draw, you answer: Currently working in data science from the comforts of my home. Oh, and I also dabble with a little bit of history to a minor stance. 

“The world doesn’t thank enough people who aren’t willing to move for a charitable cause.” Her tone is nonchalant, almost flat. That simple black dress she’s wearing, the outline of her figure that may look unreal at first glance, the way her leg is folded on top that signifies that she’s all class, a tilt of her head that has you leaning back ever so slightly. “Are you this some sort of- house husband then? Given the way you’ve been tending to us around the party so far?”

“God no,” you answer, hand up in defense while you’re casually leaning for the unattended cup of Lager that was brought in by Jihyo’s fling? Booty call? Friend with some benefit? It wouldn’t matter since he’s athletic enough to have his own chain of gyms as a fine investment. “Call me a clean freak, but I get by with my duties around the new place.”

“What does Dahyun do again?” Lisa, another neighbor just a few houses down chimes in, “You said that she’s–”

“A corporate lawyer,” you say, catching Dahyun in your peripheral view who’s laughing with another guest that seemed to just make their way into the late afternoon. Hand to the back of your head while racking it, “She’s pretty damn good at her job too.” 

You get a collective nod from the two women when you keep your mouth partly open with a tongue nicking the inside of your bottom lip. Logistically, Dahyun was a key counterpart in her firm, the way that she’s her bosses’ right hand when it comes to finishing off deals whether the fact it came down to mergers or closing cases. She’s always one to speak her mind, not willing to play nice or by the book. 

Generally, a lawyer’s job tends to be stressful at times, given the unhealthy hours depending on what lands on her desk first thing when she walks in, early or not. If Dahyun needs some downtime, you’d give it to her - something about it that she coined you to be her sleeping pill. 

(Kinda funny, though.) 

However, there was this whole ordeal of some big litigation incident with one of the firm’s associated parties. Something about the high ranking chairman and close member convicted of fraud and if the press found out about it, the whole door gets blown up and it turns into an absolute shit show. Dahyun’s boss had her spearhead the whole thing and as a big token of appreciation, she managed to get time off. 

The apartment prior was starting to get a little bit cramped, so she brought up the idea of moving while eating out for lunch one afternoon and that was that. 

Explains how the house acquisition was more simple to deal with, considering how you’re good with numbers and finances, but that’s all to know. 

Tech savvy, is what Mina tells you, taking out of it with a margarita in her hand while you raise your cup in acknowledgement, breaking away from the set of couches around the makeshift bonfire pit. Ever the sentry, unintentional but it’s what a good party host does to get to know new faces, right? 

Like the ping pong ball on the table, you’re bouncing around the backyard again, avoiding the splash zone of the pool when you slide across the makeshift bar of different varieties of drinks off to the right of the sliding door, cups riddled both half full and empty that’ll have to be dealt with eventually later, or in the next morning - whichever one happens first. A frame of mind falls into the same habit, picking up the clutter for a bit before you could treat yourself to another choice of booze or wine you’ll fish out of the kitchen once done. 

Nothing would prepare you for the extra set of small hands swooping in the table to keep tight on the slack. 

She seems familiar, not long term familiar, but something that you’ve caught yourself having a double take at for a quick second only to forget a couple seconds later. A quick spike of the heartbeat, that’s also something that you’re very torn on in that moment - running back a necessary subroutine in your memory banks to check that you’re - well, you.

“I take you’re the guy Dahyun was praising about.” she says, her voice cheery with that simple but sly smile of hers that’s stabbing daggers into your heart. “Find it hard to believe that you’re her husband, actually.”

The solo cups slide in smoothly, placing it back in the respective stack while this girl is tending to the crushed water bottles and cans in that small plastic bag she’s putting them in. A small contribution at that, but a helpful gesture that you’ll indirectly accept once the plastic is tied and in the bin. 

“And what are you trying to say?” you start, arm bearing your hand when you stand square across from her. “Was it everything that you hoped to expect?” 

Unbuttoned baseball jersey, those high top sneakers and short shorts giving a slight peek into her figure from the down up. Her tank top also raised enough to show her toned midsection that looks tapered and detailed. Casual, you think, perfect for the summer vibe that you could honestly put a lei over her neck and all of a sudden this party is a fucking luau. 

“Hon!” a voice calls out to you in the distance, approaching you and the girl from the other side of the yard. When that person gets closer, it turns out to be Dahyun who immediately grins at the sight of you looking all curious. “Oh! Good, I’ve managed to get you two both together.” 

“But you didn’t do anything.” 

“Who said that I was the one to start it?” 

“Coming from the person who’s all for taking the credit for herself.” 

“Always the pleaser,” the girl laughs out loud, Dahyun closing in with her fingers intertwining with hers. There’s history to them - not even a second thought to track back, it’s all there right in front of you to see. It also clicks in your head that this girl was also the same one that Dahyun was gleefully excited to see back in your sit-in with Mina and Lisa. 

The exchange of happy glances abruptly stops when Dahyun catches you with an arched brow, looking for answers, and to this she just smiles downward because how could she forget with the formalities, it’s silly. “Babe, I’d like you to meet Minatozaki Sana, one of my closest friends since college.” 

“Sana,” you say, and when the syllables reverberate past the oral cavity and into the air, it rolls off the tongue nicely. “I see, friend of Dahyun’s?” 

“Indeed I am,” she says, extending her hand as a peaceful offering - not even realizing the turmoil that’s running through your head while hiding it effortlessly. The way her hand fits in yours, her whole body looks delicate like she’s handmade with God’s well crafted time; she’s also a few inches taller than Dahyun (by two for the accurate calculation), you’ve got Dahyun to mold into the threads of the mattress and now imagine–

“I was wondering who was getting Dahyun a bit excited at the gate when you came in,” you say as you’re pouring yourself another cup of brandy this time, since the other drinks were relatively tame for your high alcohol tolerance. “Now with a face to the name, I gotta say, you’re pretty likable already.” 

Bottom line, it’s really curious to act this way. Clearly, you’re smiling at the fact that she’s standing there with her arms crossed, you’ve placed your cup down filling the next one, because another wouldn’t hurt. 

So how did you and Dahyun meet, you say - palm flat on the foldable table that sends the drinks sloshing slightly at the change in stable weight. I would assume that the story in itself is an interesting one, I hope? 

Sana and Dahyun have this exchanging look between the two of them, the infatuation of how their minds are interlinked. These two have been through everything, despite the differences in majors and fields of work - the bond that they have is admirable. “What do you know about me that Dahyun has told you?” 

“Whatever that wasn't ordinary already,” you reply. “What also boggles my mind is that–”

“If she told you about the time I almost had to blow my professor to give me a passing grade, she’s dead wrong. It never happened.” That star-stricken grin that has you pouting slightly and rolling your eyes because her answer has you completely way off of left field. 

Not that, you add on but-hmm it can only make you wonder of the kinds of things that happened in that period of youth, before Dahyun came along into your life albeit a simple nudge of the shoulder while passing between working schedules. A part of the script of life that’s rewritten in itself and jesus - it’ll sit in the comfy nook of your brain while it sends your heart and gut flipping in all directions. 

Let that be a new doc or spreadsheet for you to graph out in your mind, because there’s a lot to compute and learn into getting this right. 

–

So it actually turns out that Sana’s the next door neighbor living on the left of your house. She just wasn’t there during the whole moving process before the housewarming party because like Mina, Sana was out and about seeing the world - something about putting some miles in her life trying to cross off one or two things off the bucket list, maybe more. 

There’s only some noticeable details to keep track of in a few: 

* Said somewhere along the lines of having a fear of heights? Lost a bet to her cousin and went skydiving to get over it. 

* Well-spoken, considering that she was in Dahyun’s undergrad cohort before she had a change of heart in her choice of major, leading towards the pipeline of communication studies or working with kids, cute. 

* She’s an only child in the family and very accepting of the fact of having a big house to herself (since Juile, her housemate who was also paying for half of the place but hardly around to live inside and still depositing the rent when it was time). Lonely, one might say out of sympathy but that would be undermining her success till now. 

* Oh, and that story of her blowing her professor to get a passing grade? Hard to believe how it’s true and very similar to a common storyline you’ve surfed incognito on the internet before.

“Look,” and she says this with a whole hearted laugh when you’re behind her and Dahyun walking out of the side gate. “It was only a one time thing, I swear and plus,” you’re having flash of doubt when Dahyun looks over, and you’re terrible at hiding it because it’s in your eyes, a shake of the head in disbelief when Sana’s shoulders slouch, “we were sophomores that hated that fuckass professor so much, I was willing to take the fall.” 

“And you did, but thank god there’s no proof of documentation that recounts such events like those, right? Right?” 

A prompting cough deviates the ongoing conversation, “I assume that everything was handled then?” To this, Sana nods - right hand swearing under oath, smiling earnestly with those eyes of hers, left hand supporting her elbow. She’s distracting with how her tank top peeks out with her chest open slightly. In the court of law, she could never get away with testifying let alone convince the grand jury. “I mean, what would happen if there was something that’s sizable enough to damage your image of being this good-willed human being?” 

“Then everyone would watch the world burn if that were the true, but I’m cautious of my digital footprint, always making sure that my track record is clean.” 

(She’s in the same pedigree as Mina, Lisa, and pretty much everyone that’s occupying the boulevard: poised, casual, stable, know themselves all too well to get what they want - because they always do, it’ll have your head turning from the moment they walk in to when they leave the table. Dahyun gave you the brief rundown about her circle of friends; they’re good people, not wanting to let the finer things of life get to them, stay true to their words, grounded even.)

It’s how the amber light of your garage door shines above that gives Sana this radiating shade of copper in her hair. You’d offer to walk her back to her place if it wasn’t just a few steps away. Better yet, Dahyun would’ve permitted you to do so if you were to ask right now, but it’s fine. The grace period of life works in mysterious ways, funny how this sense of nostalgia comes back when you see two lovely girls play the game of catch-up, hugging after not seeing each other for a couple years. 

Tuning back in to the image: 

“I’m baffled you’ve managed to land a house like this, especially with your money and the amount of back breaking work you do on a daily basis. Twenty trials? You’re a fucking workaholic.” 

The pair of them laugh together, it’s really heartwarming to listen. 

Still, 

“-plus the extended vacation time you just got-” Sana sounds like a kid on the last days of school trying to come up with a multitude of things to waste time while Dahyun just listens to her rambling; eyes curving up with stupid smiles and the head tilts as if the secrets being exchanged are not meant to be spoken of to others, they look good together, wow. Have we checked the calendar if it’s Pride month still?

When they turn toward you, the actions seem unreal to register. Dahyun’s monolids contrast Sana’s double eyelids, the way Sana’s eyes especially look almond like. Her smile is a little smaller compared to Dahyun’s and when they’re just freely cuddling each other without any spite of jealousy beneath it.

They’re leaving you dumbfounded, consider yourself to be humbled. 

Sana breaks the hug first before she lets out an overreaching hand for you to shake. You’ll admit on another given day to Dahyun that Sana’s pretty, the small pull hinting at her smile all the more reason to give a positive outlook for first impressions that will also have you wondering how in the hell isn’t she in a relationship yet. Overkill when she does the line with her eyes while keeping the same smile when mirroring Dahyun’s expression, too. 

“Same number as always?” Dahyun asks, clinging onto her hand like she’s going away for a sizable amount of time. “I got nothing for the next couple of weeks.” 

“I’ll just walk over and ring the doorbell, don’t bother.” Sana’s answer is optimistic, and you’re hoping she’ll stick to her word because you’re willing to break the lines, the yellow tape at the scene, and ignore the lines of ink blacked out for confidentiality assurance. 

You and Dahyun say good night, and she’s just happily bouncing along the sidewalk into her own front yard. 

“She likes you, by the way.” Dahyun tells you, slotting herself right underneath your right arm while you’re squinting to see absolutely nothing in the darkness, not even tuned in to what your wife was telling you. A few sweeps of looks across the street pass and you’re rubbing warmth on her shoulder, only to nudge your head slightly to finally hear. 

“Sana’s…interesting.” you say, blinking, looking down at Dahyun’s gaze before your eyes shoot away scouring for something else to eye at in the short meantime before a light slap to the stomach sends you snorting out of the quick annoyance. “Hey, based on how she acted, I would’ve thought she’d be anything but ordinary.” 

“She’s done some stupid shit, that’s for sure.” Dahyun signs to her own admission, seeing it first hand of the stories that were told an hour ago. “Though, she’s gotten better once I convinced her to see things in a different perspective.” 

“Could’ve passed as a good lawyer if you asked me.” 

“Please tell me that’s satirical.” 

“Wasn’t planning to say, but I guess it just happened.” 

A close of the gate and up the steps into the front door, easy to say that getting yourself settled in for once in your life doesn’t seem to be that bad of an idea. The plans themselves are just getting started, drawing them up on the itinerary sometime later this week will get a number of things going. 

–

Apparently nobody saw this coming, and let this be an error in the calculations because evidently, this whole ‘summer in the hamptons’ type thing was about to be undermined entirely. 

Turns out on the following day, Dahyun gets this business call at around three in the morning, and the phone just keeps vibrating on the nightstand. She eventually lets you off slumbering with the lamp on while she goes to the couch to hear what her boss was egging on about for what you think would be a short call, but it wasn’t. 

What you eventually find out hours later is that Dahyun was called in to help play defense in this big lawsuit that was deemed to be ‘the second coming of the Watergate Scandal’. God, those news anchors and journalists need to do a better job of nailing the creative writing aspect because it was just fucking awful when they’re reporting it at eight in the morning after. Apparently you’re also reading an article online on your desktop about Dahyun’s firm coming under fire for a sizable client that’s been doing murky deals behind their backs that would not only jeopardize one branch of the corporate relationship, but all the potential deals that have yet to be signed. It’s a mess. Though, work shouldn’t even be the thought since Dahyun’s pulling out all of these boxes that were related to this case out all over the dining room table that she has to bring back to her office and whatever was on the menu for the boat party next week that you’re having with close family and friends was about to be canceled. 

And this has happened on many occasions, but if it involved Dahyun or anything related to the law firm she holds dearly to her heart (of course, you’re first, obviously) the support in her endeavor would always be important to protect. 

“I just hoped that they were able to handle this quietly, and without my help.” You’re dipping your head down to spit the last taste of mint from your mouth. Dahyun leans forward on the sink with her ankles crossed, wearing one of your shirts blinking dutifully, quite zoned out while her hand is over your hamstring, tapping it gingerly. 

“Well if that were the case, then they would’ve called you in anyway.” You say, raising an eyebrow with the tinge of mouthwash cycling in and out when you spit again. “So much for having your rewarded vacation time.” 

Dahyun leans back against the mirror when she’s putting her hair up in this messy bun. She looks a little more relaxed compared to the ragged breaths down your ear when your cock was buried inside her, clinging to your neck while that vicious upstroke of your hips sends her absolutely blown out. The look she gives with her pleading eyes when you take the toothbrush out of her mouth, washing it after she leans over to spit out the toothpaste before handing a washcloth for you to wipe yourself with. “You think I shouldn’t go.” 

“Wasn’t really bringing that up for you to consider, but judging how this looks from the outside in, I’d say it’s pretty bad.” 

“You’re really not helping my train of thought here,” she sighs, hands bearing her waist, the crinkles of your shirt on her subtly showing that petite frame, the image itself recorded in your memory banks loads of times - each one just like the first, if not better. 

Sliding over a few inches to where she sits there idly, your hands placed on the outer rim where her knees bend over the marble counter. She doesn’t change her posture when you’re looking her in the eyes trying to get a read on what her next move might be. Still elegant as ever, Dahyun will always put this appearance on even when it's the simple domestic life she’s living. 

Energy levels are still high, and the initial action was to get back to watching this sappy rom-com kdrama that bored Dahyun to the point where she slipped a hand inside your sweatpants just to ‘spice things up a bit’. Once the prompted question of are you still watching appears on the screen after minutes of inactivity, no point in answering it while she’s happily fucking herself over you while you’re sprawled across the satin sheets, gripping into her perfect waist with the sound of her hips with yours bouncing off the new walls. 

When’s the flight? You ask her, hand sliding up her thigh slowly. I could put in a word for your associate to get that done, save the trouble. Inevitably, the jaws of justice will soon swallow her up again when she manages to break free from the shackles of court orders and depositions. 

“First thing at nine,” she answers, fingers tugging at the midpoint of where the seam of your shirt and the waistband of your sweats meet. “Got some things to pack up soon, but I think most of the papers and boxes won’t be a lot for me to carry on the quick plane trip back.” 

“Crazy that they get paid for a short flight from upstate.” 

“In addition to the fact that they’re also on my dad’s payroll.” 

“A plus I might admit.” you muse. 

Dahyun shifts her gaze from right to left, spreading her legs wider when you scoot her hips up to meet yours. The hum of satisfaction that she gives when your eyes flick up to see that rosy shade of pink plastered across her face, eyes waiting, honing on something that she subjects that will be given to her. Precision was one of her key strengths, but when that’s used against her, it’s a completely different story. 

When she tugs a little bit more on your undershirt to lift, she usually does so with this sense of security - like a kind of clinginess that you won’t have any sort of complaint against. You’ve understood it to a degree. Whether you’re dropping by the office of the firm or being dragged into the kitchen after sitting on your chair for hours and hours doing analytics and business calls, moments like these with Dahyun are always something to behold. Considerably, you don’t mind giving into her needs for attention; in fact, you’re willing to do that without even thinking twice. 

“So,” Dahyun prompts with this sultry voice of hers, clueless and innocently - as if she has no idea what she’s doing to you. With her (your) shirt rumpled all over her body, those pretty eyelashes, her creamy thighs, the way that her fingers are grazing the elastic of both your sweats and boxers, you begin to assess the conditions when you’ve nestled yourself in between her knees, some water staining the gray cotton when you finally lean closer. “How are you gonna handle yourself while I’m gone?” 

“I think you’ll lay the severance package,” you say, not giving any faltering sense when she’s ghosting her set of fingertips on the right hand across your chest. “If there’s damages to it, I don’t mind paying up.” 

“Non-compete or NDA,” Dahyun huffs, lifting the outer seam of the shirt past her hips, showing the opening underneath where her pussy is glistening with her slick, awaiting your end of the bargain, this non-verbal agreement where she knows that you’ll always deliver the requests and offers. “Besides, you still owe me.” 

Laughing, you do recall the statement. It’s funny - there’s a trade off throughout the day earlier where you’re awoken to her warm mouth, deepthroating your cock that leaves you with these sharp inhales. The way her jaw slacks of how she sucks, the mix of spit lathering all over your length while she’s bobbing away between your thighs at ten o’clock on a Saturday morning. Even after Dahyun takes care of the morning wood situation, you pay her back by eating her pussy freely on the kitchen counter as the logical option to keep yourselves occupied while waiting for the oatmeal. There’s no competition between the two of you of who makes the other cum the fastest, the hardest, let alone how many rounds can you do in a day; it really just boils down to this one simple look, a push-pull that sends the neurons firing away automatically - fucking each other ‘just because’ to put it simply. 

This girl on the bathroom sink, slouching, head against the mirror still while your hands finally snake under her shirt, feeling the unbelievable midsection under the breasts when she lowers her eyes, leaning up for the touch of your lips. 

Every kiss, stolen or prolonged, each one always has the flaps in your heart opening. She’s yours. 

Tender at first, but then the heat gets raised up when her arm hooks onto your waist, fighting the slipping tongue that’s breaking away for a slight second in her mouth. Her hands are also grasping for any kind of reach for her to clutch on, no luck for it when she finally takes her fingers into your hair, not wanting to pull away. 

Dahyun does this little whine after the quick inhale of air when you slip a finger or two inside her bare cunt, testing the waters as she bites her lip in anticipation. “Don’t do that now,” she spits. That obscene noise coming out of her instantly after when she bucks her hips forward again, accidentally curling a finger in her warm cunt that makes her look away from your intense gaze. “Darling, please–” 

“Use your words honey,” you whisper against her lips when you’re tugging on her bottom lip, causing her to sit up straight on the counter, slotting her arms around your neck with hands circling her waist. “Can’t really hear what you’re saying if you’re mopping my face up.” 

She’s losing her sense of focus when your fingers continue to bottom out the whole length of them, filling her up and pushing deeper. It also doesn’t help when your thumb presses flat on her clit that sends her mewling at the bend. Her face is against your neck, the steady pace of those staggered breaths against your skin keeps your current operation on the clock, unraveling this line when you’re slipping in and out of her. 

“Baby, baby, baby, please–” her heel locks the back of your thigh in place, hitting a kneecap on the cabinet. She’s reduced to these simple words and responses with the heavy breathing. Her hips are nearly coming off the glassy surface of the sink. The shirt’s lifted up beneath her perky mounds (and that fucking underboob is a national treasure in itself), the seal of your mouth is all over her throat: pulling, kissing, gnawing. You kinda feel bad for the concealer pack she’s gonna be using later for a brief afterthought. 

Although this little contest of edging Dahyun out to cum wasn’t on the cards for tonight. You’re managing this smile when she pulls the hair tie out of her hair, letting it flow freely. This look of post-sex yet natural style that she does makes you stare in awe when you pull her hips more out at the edge, the way her elbows are propped up nicely and her legs are spread even wider. Her hand pulls the shirt higher, showing her breasts now, the preferred choice of marks that were left there as a reminder from earlier. You slip out of the sweatpants and boxers, fixed on the brushing of her bare cunt just millimeters away from dipping yourself - a teasing tip, then the first couple inches at the half - and that shudder from her hips catches you off guard. 

“Yes,” Dahyun moans out that matches your sigh in perfect timing. A moment’s hesitation, replaced with the second necessary action to sink yourself into her more, parting her walls nicely, slowly, until you feel all of her wrapped around you. 

She gasps, mewling, spilling out this chain of hitched breaths, “god. honey, your cock–” 

It all slides out for a second. Unreal. Then you slam back into her again. Pacing was always the methodical approach, a line into the protocol when Dahyun is writhing in the drag of your cock fucking deep into her cunt, she’s biting her lip at the fact that she’s shimming her legs more out, wanting to choke herself down the length. My god, you’d love to keep the look she has on her face, lips parted at how badly she just wants you to split her in two, seeing the last hint of her pupils rolling back into her brain when you skate the palms of your hands across her stomach, clutching onto her perky breast when the tempo starts to increase. 

When your hands finally nestle into the curve of her hips, they stay there. They’re already at a good place when your cock finally feels all of her, so wet, so tight. A slight throb along the length when you drag yourself out, that small pocket of air escaping before the vice seals shut again. She’s unbelievably perfect, one label off the list from your head when you’re fixed on the sight of your length disappearing inside her, head tilting forward with every stroke back in. 

“You’re so - mmh,” Dahyun hitches her breath, shuddering, you could feel the rise and fall of her chest when your hand clutches her thigh. A choked out sob leaves her lips, and you’re impressed at the composure of nailing her cunt, the same spot being hit deep, even deeper, to that one area where she’s lost herself before. “Fucking big for me, this cock - feels so good-” 

“Dahyun...” you hiss, shifting your hands down to the soft cushion of her ass, sinking down once again, then another, and then another, sliding her out across the counter before you’re driving her back in, this never-ending piston into the fiery pit of heat, stretching her out, twisting that nimble body of hers into your own creation, coaxing every exhale you catch from her abdomen. “Your pussy is so–” 

What you meant to say was, “your pussy is so fucking tight, god damnit-” You know what, the thought can barely even be formed in your head when you meet Dahyun’s eyes, slowly fluttering shut with her teeth slowly disappearing behind her lip. That, and the feeling of her walls imploding your cock to the remnants of awareness you had left. 

It’s also pretty funny to think how Dahyun was fucking herself freely over you just an hour ago, only for her to be used like this and she knows you simply can’t help yourself. 

“Love, I can’t - shit,” that utterance nearly takes everything ouight of you to say; everything about it is euphoric, the way you have her legs up, bottoming her out. You look at her again, and she has her hand over her mouth, trying to fight that natural clench when your cock fills the heat inside her. “You’re so good for me, spreading yourself open like this. Fuck.” 

This is a case that you’ll take to your grave, knowing all of your wife’s body so well to the point that every kiss, thrust, moan, hell even the appearance when she’s like this for you will be more than enough to last as much as possible. Dahyun knows the switch off too - aside from the fact that she’s cock drunk every single fucking time you fuck her brains out - and she loves this. You see it in her pupils, the desperation to tear all the edges apart, the signal for you to finally wreck her in the way that she wants you to. 

“Don’t stop,” she begs, chest heaving heavily when her legs wrap around your waist, propping herself up for you to take her waist into your chest, letting out these songs of pleas that’s encouraging you to get to that edge first. You could feel her body going limp, the support is almost reflexive while your hips continue to pummel her out. 

“You-” you try to say. Fuck. It goes everything against the directive you’ve put yourself in, the noises of your skin clashing with hers, creating this filthy yet harmonious sound that only gets more and more harder. Dahyun’s breathless moans keep you in check when your motions start to get irregular, inconsistent, keeping yourself busy with your mouth all over her chest. “God, Dahyun–” 

“Do it baby,” she whispers into the cuff of your ear, “Keep fucking my pussy. Pound me like this.” Her hand does this simple action, and it’s lethal. All it took was a simple palm to your cheek, it’s filled with little meaning but carries so much intimacy. Moans and grunts continue to slip out while you search for her eyes, feeling that pull in your waist, grip tightening and loosening as you’re mindlessly thrusting. “You’re getting close for me, aren’t you?” 

“Honey,” and at this point you’ve got it all spun out of control, “You feel so fucking good.” 

“I know, baby.” Dahyun ignores your words of affirmation, smirking. “You know what to do.” 

God. She can kill you, bring you back to life, and kill you all over again. Begging was already done before, you’ve fucked her way past her orgasm on mulitiple occasions - using her as your cumdump; doesn’t matter what time of the day or what you’re doing. The endgame was always this: having you completely fucked out in that velvety smooth pussy of hers - all wet and warm enough for you to live in. 

With your teeth gritting and a final huff of air blowing past your nostrils, you cum inside her, filling her sloppy cunt all the way up. 

Dahyun is sinister, it’s not up for a fair debate. When she coos and hums into your ear canal, you’re battling every urge to just wrap your fingers all over the column of her throat, use the remaining bits of pulse in your member to get her screeching. Alas, you hold yourself back while the ropes of cum are spurting around her walls, her mouth also gaping open when the fourth and fifth pulse out your cock weakly. 

There’s this pause soon after, a collection of breath between the two of you that constructs a reconsideration of your choices. Dahyun has this telepathic connection with your mind that makes the connection instantaneous - you don’t say anything because there’s this one look in her eyes, hanging in the atmosphere bathed with afterglow - and she knows. 

When you do slide out of her swollen cunt, there’s a considerable amount of your cum dripping out of her, slapping the tip along the outside of her folds just to tease her before retreating away entirely. The image of her legs spread out and her back laid across the sink will be saved into your memory for you to look on sometime in the future, or maybe even next week. 

“So,” you mutter, shaking off the small jitters of blood loss to the head when you’re massaging Dahyun’s thighs, “Have I paid off my case in due time?” 

Dahyun chuckles, a single finger raised up from the wreck beneath to get a taste, licking her lips following the fingertip. She wiggles up on her hands to sit on the counter again, hair flipped to one side while she lets the shirt fall down to cover her body, “Hate to say it, but you always do.” 

“That’s good to know.” 

“I’m also saying that you could use my help.” 

“Ha Ha,” 

“What? I’m serious.”

“I’m serious. Well so am I.” Dahyun sarcastically says, slapping your hip that makes your cock jump suddenly. You can see the dashes appear on her face when she lets out this simple smile, the eyes disappearing reflecting the same expression on her lips. She could saunter around the courtroom making a solid case for the defense, but no one would know the fact she’s all liquid putty when you have your hands on her like this. “I appreciate the thoughtful offer, but I think someone’s gotta guard the house while I handle work.” 

“I’m gonna hate you by the end of this.” 

“How bout you flip me over and rail my ass on the sink again?” 

You’re starting to curse that concrete jungle a little more by the end of it. 

–

Okay, to cut to the chase, there might’ve been a slight miscalculation that you had panned out in your head. 

You switch on the TV two days later and Dahyun’s already made her way back to ground zero in the city to handle this case, where it completely spirals into an absolute shitshow. All gloves are off when the story gets released out to the public, scapegoating one of Dahyun’s board members having themselves tangled in an affair with one of the staff. Sure, it could've been an analytical approach to brush off the heat that’s only growing by the second - a shitty attempt you might also think; either way, this trial was crucial for your wife’s firm to win because in the scenario that they lose, all credibility and positive imagery surrounding them will plummet and that equals no more lawyer work for Dahyun. 

She was optimistic at first while on the phone with you, talking about how this case should’ve been a cakewalk to handle, predicting the possible time period of when she should come back home to finally relax with all that hard work paid off temporarily. You’re smiling at the fact that she sounds composed, no hint of stress lying in her tone, riding on that high when you have her bucking into your hips just an hour before her private plane trip to the firm. 

It’s only a matter of time before all of this blows over, you think. Not your fault also when the house feels suddenly empty in the wake of this unexpected catastrophe. 

You’re hearing this definition of a fortnight. As in, Dahyun’s projected time when she could get out of the office and have someone else handle the case on her behalf. A little unusual for her to indulge in the understanding of the term itself, not while you’re making yourself dinner with the chops of onions on the cutting board and the phone being on speaker off to the right side. 

“Two weeks?” you’re asking, the dice of onion cubes being skated off into the pot left to boil while stirring. “That’s a pretty big ask for you to take up with your boss.” 

“Why do you think I’m hitting you with the English lesson?”

“Babe, you’re talking about a term that was used in the freaking 1800s.” you laugh, leaning back on the counter, glass of water in your hand as one of the stupid actions that most people tend to do when talking to their crush. “Would’ve been better if you just said two weeks instead of a fortnight. What do you think I am? Some kid that’s withering their life away over some video game?” 

“There you go again.” She laughs out loud. You can envision the picture of her rolling her eyes at you when you spew out complete nonsense that won’t comprehend in her brain since her lifestyle doesn’t line up with it. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, smirking with a dimple poking out against the touchscreen. “Seriously, when do you think you’re gonna make it back?” 

“Honestly, I don’t think it’ll be anytime soon.” she admits, hearing the click of your tongue over the speaker when you’re accepting the fact that her job might potentially be on the line if she were to leave early. “I know we said two weeks, but in this case-” You can hear her stop short when she clears the lump in her throat before continuing, “This trial might drag on for who knows how long? It might be a few days, two weeks, a month? Everything is laid out for us to fail.” 

“And you won’t.” you tell her, reminding the positives going forward. “Maybe it could look bad, but I’m certain that you’ll do a good enough job with what you have to work with. I’m sure of that.” 

That sigh of relief you hear through the phone. Yeah, you’re right. I get it. A little reassurance goes a long way for someone in her field dealing with that kind of work - not that you would relate or somewhat imagine what it would be like to be in Dahyun’s shoes, but aside from all bad things, you know that she’s headstrong to the point where none of this should even faze her in the first place. 

“You know you can’t go back to the old place, dummy.” you laugh, opening the lid of the pot that unleashes a quick cloud of steam rising above the rim. “Where are you planning on staying in the meantime while working?” 

“Minju has a guest room at her place.” Dahyun answers, “I’d figured that I should tell you this, but I think she and her associate are having a little thing together.” 

“And this is news to me, how?” 

“Because I’ve seen him and her get a lot closer than usual.” she adds, “You do remember that we have this policy that’s strict on relationships around the office–” 

“But you and I, along with some other considerable names and high-ranking figures, are the exception. I know. We’ve been over this story a bunch of times already.” 

Dahyun straightens herself up on the couch over the phone, folding her legs inward on the seat, sighing, smiling. “Are you eating dinner this late?” 

“Well, if you consider ten-thirty to be late to have myself a meal, then yeah, you can call that to be a late dinner.” 

“Rude,” she muses. “Can’t your wife have a little bit of curiosity about your day while being alone? Missing me?” 

“I guess, but there’s nothing to report on my end.” 

She hums, and you can picture the pout she’s putting on whenever you give her an open ended answer that could totally be expanded on if you just put the effort into it. Dahyun knows you're lazy to an extent when it’s off work hours, and she doesn’t blame you for that. “Have you been using your hand to keep yourself occupied while I’m gone, baby?” 

“Sweetie,” you chuckle, tongue against the inside part of your bottom lip when you automatically realize what she’s trying to do - what she’s trying to make you do. “No, we’re not doing this.” 

“Aw, why not?” 

“Because I can only do so much to keep myself sane while you’re not here.” 

“Fine,” Dahyun sighs out in defeat, and you turn off the stove to let the signature dish of your mother’s pork stew cool down before you get to eating. “One last thing,” she starts, “Sana wants a favor from you while I’m not there.” 

“Hmm?” you sound off, getting a small taste test of the minimal viscosity of the soup you just cooked. “What does she need help with?” 

“Just some heavy lifting around her place,” Dahyun answers, yawning. “I told her that she could come by the house to get you and help with whatever she needs.” 

“You’re setting me up, aren’t you.” 

A soft giggle could be heard in the background on Dahyun’s end. It probably shouldn’t mean anything, but a suspicion starts formulating in the back of your head. This could mean one of two things: you’re either fucked for the potential summer, or fucked for the potential summer. 

“Help Sana out tomorrow,” Dahyun instructs. “I don’t think anything bad will happen if you’re stuck with her.” 

–

Turns out that Dahyun would be right when you do stand at the steps of Sana’s front door, hand at the hip while the few seconds of silence runs the possible uncertainties through your head. 

A swing of the door inward: “Howdy stranger, have my pizza?” 

You get a good look at her. She’s wearing these thinly rimmed glasses, the middle wire sitting nicely on the bridge of her nose. Her long sleeve hugs her shoulders nicely, tugging at the fabric while her other arm is raised on the door. The shorts are also doing a number on you internally, highlighting the ridiculously long legs that has miles and miles of skin, aside from the fact that they appear to be too short (and also pink, but fuck, man.) Cozy, homebody type of vibe, is what you end off with. 

“Hey.” And this comes off as a half-choke in the fumble of words, “Dahyun said that you needed some help?” 

Sana cocks her head off to the side, brows attracted inwardly, lost for a second before she fully realizes the present dilemma that she’d had happen to forget. “Oh, I did ask for a few things.” 

“Fingers crossed your to-do list isn’t full?” 

She does this subtle nod of her head motioning you to come inside, and you hesitate for a second, peering over past her head of brown hair to see the state of the place and here’s how it looks: everything has a very simplistic aesthetic, blank tones of the furnishings and floorboards complimenting each other the more you and her make your ways around the place. Some boxes are still present here and there, half-open, half-closed, like the items in them haven’t found their rightful place amongst the shelves and cupboards and closets between the rooms. Sana mentions also that her and Julie also have similar tastes, but given the fact that they both haven’t been in the place that often because of their work, it’s pretty disappointing to take away. 

“How long have you had this house?” you ask, picking up a picture frame off one of the tables in the living room that has Sana and this other gorgeous girl leaning her head in with hers, you can’t put a name to her, but curiosity will come later when the time is right. 

“Just like you, not that long actually,” Sana answers, rounding past the corner towards the kitchen when you pick up on the lasting trail of her footsteps to meet her at point B. “Julie and I only managed to settle in about a few weeks ago before she went overseas for some big movie project that she’s a part of. Other than that, it’s just been me here all by myself.” 

“That doesn’t sound fun.” 

“I find it calming to have a big house with multiple rooms without the sense of company.” 

Your eyes trail off in the distance of this closed space. It looks barren, but rich, with the sense of presence from all of the different decorations and paintings all over the walls and tables. You might mistake this as a museum, an unplanned exhibit with your neighbor as the centerpiece of this gallery. 

“So,” you start to say, arms cross when you’re watching Sana on the opposite side of the kitchen island, sipping on a glass of strawberry lemonade, looking back at you with wide eyes, those pouty lips on the rim–

She points to the set of disregarded items off to your left side behind, the same set of boxes you noticed when walking in, “I need to get these things out of there and placed around the house,” and she starts to round the area of the kitchen to get closer to you, “and my garage door needs some fixing since it won’t open for some reason” 

“You really think I’m qualified to help you with the garage?” you raise an eyebrow in suspicion. 

“Dahyun asked you to help me, so please, make us happy.” 

–

The first meeting with Sana happens quite quickly. It should’ve ended there - a simple favor fulfilled and get on with continuing the daily routines around the house and neighborhood. 

Except it doesn’t happen that way. Not when Sana catches your attention when you’re taking out the trash, watering Dahyun’s little growing garden, when you’re getting your morning and evening runs up the hill and round the block, she always seems to get you caught in her lines of sight. 

You’re not against it however, taking a liking to have a quick chat with Sana about different things that were worth bringing up - it’s the simple camradire that’s developed rapidly after the housewarming party. She’s interested to see you with the garage open, finding a new thing to tinker and fix with the car (although modding a tesla would make some vehicle enthusiasts want to rip out their hair and gouge their fucking eyeballs,) she just makes the minute trip from her house over to yours just to talk. 

Dahyun’s calls circulate every now and then, getting the quick rundown of what’s been happening while she’s knee-deep in trial work down at the firm. You simply smile while tapping on the camera switch icon on facetime to have her look at the group of Sana, Jihyo and her summer flirt, Mina, along with a few others just have a communal game night of Mario Kart down at Sana’s place when everything is settled in. Before that, you were explaining the fascination of this ancient city that you’ve been reading into between business calls and graph inputs during work that may sound like you’re a boring professor talking about history. 

None of that would matter because Sana’s house is like this ancient city that’s riddled with riches and items of materialistic value that would probably convince someone else that their money is being wasted over meaningless items rather than propper investments. You get a few nods of agreement, maybe some fingersnaps because what you’re saying could be plausible with the amount of knowledge you’ve consumed to tell without boring everybody. 

“I could care less if that were the case,” Sana says, leaning closer on the couch while running a hand through her hair, the flowy locks combined with that cropped Prada shirt could have you reeling in an alternate universe, but it doesn’t. 

“Sana,” you call out, Jihyo’s also giggling at the fact before you even say it also, “your walk in closet is literally the devotion of this ‘city of gold’ I’m talking about.” 

“Hey!” and she’s taking this with a light offense, “I only say that it’s true because where else am I supposed to put the dresses?” 

“I suppose they could go somewhere else that doesn’t take up space in the racks?” 

“You’re the one who helped me put them up anyway!” 

“Don’t get all defensive now because I’m talking about it.” 

She cracks this smile while Mina sounds off with a ‘boo’ noise, “You can take your little history tangent up your ass then.” 

To that, you raise an open bottle of White Owl to her face, downing a bit of the drink while she rolls her eyes, narrowing while she purses her lips. She’s lining her fingers across the bottom of her chin, intuitively, studying the movements of your hands and eyes, getting a read of what makes you tick. 

Even after the activities of game night are all wrapped up, you stay behind in Sana’s house, picking up the assortments of empty glasses and bottles, the charcuterie board that’s scavenged through, except the stack of cheese that was apparently stale and too cold to even dig their teeth in. 

“Care for some cereal?” Sana prompts after the final sweep. 

“You’re asking me to have a night breakfast?” 

“You’re making it sound like it’s something to be frowned upon.” 

“Then why the paradoxical proposal?” 

She doesn’t bother answering that with a simple hum while you’re chuckling lowly. There’s already two bowls on the counter, and not long after, she’s holding out two boxes: Frosted Flakes and Cinnamon Toast Crunch. 

“I like the choices.” you tell her, placing yourself on one of the high chairs while Sana slides one of the boxes over with the jug of milk trailing just behind it. You snap a picture of yours and Sana’s bowls to send over to Dahyun and in which she responds in three seconds - you fell for the cereal bait tactic. 

What? I got courted with Frosted Flakes and you know this, they’re great. 

She did the same thing to me back in college, but that’s her ‘ol reliable’. 

Sana swipes your phone from your hand that you try to get back, but she skips a few feet away and starts to text in your place. “What are you texting Dahyun about?” 

“Why does it matter to you?” 

“That’s my phone you’re using.” 

Sana parts her mouth open, humming once, “I’m too lazy to grab mine from the living room.” 

“You’re texting my wife.” you deadpan. 

“She was mine first before you came along.” 

You roll your eyes. Ouch. But you sigh once the defeat settles itself back in over you. All that you’re just left to do is get these soggy, milky grains down before you eventually pack it up for the night. 

“Thanks again for staying back to help,” Sana tells you on the front step of her yard, “worth the treat of cereal as a reward.” 

“Nice to have some company, especially when there’s video games that make me feel like a careless child again.” 

“We’re all a little starved for a little fun, glad I contributed to that reach of youth.” 

And this comes out of nowhere, really, you miss Dahyun around the house and it’s felt like ages since you’ve last seen her. 

Sana has her knuckles against her cheek, the fingers are well refined, she has that glow on her face and that small hint of a dimple that breaks out underneath and well - that same pout you saw last time breaks into this perfect grin of hers that’s filled with uncut happiness, the way her eyes arch into that same eye smile Dahyun has really makes you think twice about your situation. 

It’s embarrassing, but you miss Dahyun while there’s this small crush of Sana growing inside you. Going against your vow might be one thing, but your heart can’t help itself to only tell you over your mind - well shit. Congrats. 

Though, she’s reeling you back in after seeing Hailey’s comet above, calling your name that makes you unsure if you even know your own name. 

“Will you be busy for the rest of the week?” She prompts. 

“You can just come past the gate and ring the doorbell, I’ll always answer.” 

Sana doesn’t say anything more than that, only giving you the usual ‘good night’ message before she sends you off on your way, just a few feet to the side and behind another door. 

–

Some weeks pass. It’s late, and hot. The combination of this nightly hot climate doesn’t serve anyone well. 

You hear a knock at the door that has you scratching your head over the fact on who would be at your front doorstep around this time. All of that gets thrown out the window when you look up past the column of wood to see Sana standing there, bundled up in gray sweats and an oversized sweater that’s draping her frame, two sizes too big, her shoulder noticeable to see. She has nothing else on or with her besides the phone in her hand. 

“It’s the middle of the night,” you announce, squinting at the light towering over you and her in the front patio of the house, letting out a sigh while Sana just wiggles her body side to side, acting all innocent knowing that she knows what she’s doing. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping already?” 

Sana finds your reactions to be funny. For every question, you give her a simple or calculated answer. A greeting in the morning or afternoon would be short and sweet ending off with ‘let me know if you ever need anything’ before heading back inside with the daily mail or some vacuum or bundle of rags to clean from the garage. Every blurt or sexual comment would send you coughing or spitting out some of your water when Sana’s dropping by to see what you were doing. Most girls other than Dahyun in her position would be automatically disinterested, not your fault for being naturally dry and introverted.  

“Julie crashed at Natty’s place, so I managed to drive myself back home.” Sana replies with a pull of her lips, breaking a sly grin when you return the same nod, prompting her to come inside because it wouldn’t be like you to keep a beautiful girl from around the neighborhood just standing outside your doorstep. 

The hums that come out of Sana’s mouth are refreshing, in addition to the little swing of her head back and forth when she moves past the first lounge area of your house to between the dining table and kitchen where she stops short for a second, looking off to the left, formulating a thought. You had the lights dimmed around the place, but you catch the silhouette of her side profile while a hand is behind her back, like one of those poses that she did for a magazine not too long ago that she shared when you finished up moving the last bits of her boxes. 

“Why come to my place?” you ask, flicking a light switch that brightens the area right outside leading up to the backyard. “Are you that bored around your house that you just walk over to mine?” 

“Not denying that I’m bored,” Sana amends, turning towards you again, “just wanted to give you some company.” 

“Sana, it’s late.” 

“Remind me again,” she pouts, the lift of her eyebrows makes you slightly cringe, “How long has Dahyun been busy with her work and that trial of hers?” 

“Last I heard from her was that she’s almost done closing off the settlements.” 

“Good, and you haven’t been losing your mind over the fact that your wife’s not with you.”

“Can I live normally while Dahyun gets to play the main breadwinner in the relationship?” 

Sana coos after that. She keeps this longing gaze at you while you’re returning the same fix on her. The end point of her nose, the lines of her cheek, that over peeking collarbone when she sweeps her hair from the front to the back with a little flip; you tell her that the downtime you were mainly focused on was trying to get back to sleeping, but the damn heat was the main excuse and to that she laughs, scrunching her face when she can see right through the poorly constructed lie. 

It’s distracting, the small rumbling of this breaking desire - makes you feel uncertain in how you should approach the current dwindling situation.  

Falling off the curve, however, Sana asks you:  “Do you mind if I can take a swim in your pool?” 

–

This should be a page in the history books, ripped away and shrouded in the shadows, never to be disclosed to anyone else that isn’t yourself. 

It’s also completely harmless when you’re mindlessly handing Sana one of your spare towels sitting in the bathroom, smiling sincerely when she accepts the simple item of hospitality with the add on of, if you also need some extra clothes to wear because you dipped your feet in the pool with the overhanging flared sweatpants of yours getting stained, I can lend you a pair while it dries up - pick it up tomorrow or have it dropped off- 

She floats her way down the steps, towel over her shoulder, “I’d take an extra pair of pants to use after I finish, thank you.” 

You nod, letting herself like at home as if her own home wasn’t only less than five seconds away next to yours. The glass sliding door opens up to the balcony when you finally hear the light crash of water being made from the floor below. 

There’s something calming about the light blue glow being illuminated from the pool, looking up at the different stars and constellations with today’s moon being somewhat of a mix between a half moon slowly transitioning into a crescent. Dahyun was also with you in this same position after the first night of moving in, pointing out the basic lines of the Big Dipper and the Alpha Centauri, you showing her Orion’s belt before she made a counterargument that it wasn’t a freaking belt, but it just goes to show that you’re just counting the days down until Dahyun gets back from brining the trial win home. 

Looking down, you just see Sana the singular hint of honey brown sitting on the edge of the pool before slowly dipping in, getting the ends of her hair wet before tying it up in a high bun and happily floating in place, sighing while the refreshing yet, cool temperature of water settle around her body. 

The room of your study looks tempting to set up base camp, not the worst option to consider also as a form to keep yourself occupied while your bubbly neighbor was right outside your backyard swimming in the night. 

(God’s really picking and choosing your battles in any way that he pleases, huh?)

You stay the course, grabbing a quick bottle of Heiniken from the fridge when you’re seeing the sight of Sana’s shoulders and arms breaking the flow of water, her head just above the turquoise surface, the light shining beneath her face to get a good glimpse of her rosy cheeks, those lips tugged at the ends of them in a soft smile, the line of her neck also doing you numbers than the beverage in your hand before you’ve even got a propper sip. 

Sana looks towards the back of the house, you raise the bottle up to let her know that you’re still here, noticing the pile of clothes on one of the lounge chairs, neatly folded with her phone as the cherry on top. 

Here’s where you make mistake #1: The second bottle in your left hand needs a drinker, and you step your way out into the boardwalk of your pool. A missing piece of detail that you completely ignored was how Sana’s pile of clothes was lacking one vital part–

“I find it to be pretty peculiar for my wife’s friend to be skinny dipping in my pool at around this hour.” you inform Sana of the situation, to which she softly laughs at the observation while you’re kneeling at the edge, placing the two bottles off to the side that you’ll get back to later. 

Sana floats her way to the edge of the pool right next to you, arms hanging on the deep end while looking up, “Didn’t think I needed the necessary layers, no?”

“You want to tell me about layers when you’re wearing nothing underneath.” 

“Where’s the fun in having swimsuits and trunks?” she teases, “it’s too much of a hassle for me to go through the exhausting process of changing in your spare bathroom that’s miles away from the pool.”

“There was literally a bathroom for you next to the kitchen that you passed by to get here.“

“Why don’t you join me? The pool’s too big to have one person inside.” 

No. No. Don’t even think about–

“And if I refuse?” you ask quickly, naively. 

Sana leans her head back, and your eyes can’t help in anything besides fucking you up. The waves of the water cleared up, returning to its calm, idle state where you catch the highlighted sallow skin against the light, catching her hips and legs flowing freely. She lets her lower body rise up to the surface, hands still alongside the edge almost as if she’s lounging on the nearby chairs - it also hits you that she’s doing it on purpose, the fact that her bare ass is just out in the open air for you to see–

Right on cue, mistake #2: you sit down nicely, criss-cross like a little kid; and Sana scoots herself to where you’re sitting, closely, dangerously. 

“I’ve got some pull for you to rethink, take my offer into some light consideration.” she muses, and the leaning closer coming from you is seriously not helping. She’s got her hand laying below your knee, and she might as well be right under you with the ground advantage. 

That same lean is also curious; it’s also pretty familiar too - how the natural state of gravity works, Dahyun reeled you in to some similar form a long while ago - forget if or maybe if the fact she looked first or you looked first, it doesn’t matter. One key difference between that event and now was the fact that you realize that you’ve toppled over and into the swimming pool, clothes still on and everything, the brisk feeling of water washing over before you find yourself breathing, ears getting flushed out and replaced with Sana’s sweet laugh to top if all off. 

You swipe your hands through your soaked face, slowly floating to the shallow end while cringing at the present moment that just occurred. The blend on your shirt and sweats mold to your figure, like someone had slapped clay on you. Chlorine is not good for the eyes, obviously, so keep rubbing your eyes and clearing out any sinuses while telling Sana that you’re not inviting her in the next time after this night. 

Sana has this effect on people, so natural and open to the point with others that she’s hugging everyone and doing skinship as she pleases, you’re not far off from the latter, in fact–

“I thought you’d be a little more vocal with the fact I pulled you in,” she tells you, turning away slightly when you splash a hint of water as she approaches you. 

“It’s cold,” you say blankly, slicking your hair back while Sana closes the distance. Sly smile and everything. 

“That’s all you have to say?” she asks, “So dry.” 

“Aside from the fact that you’re swimming naked in my pool, I think there’s more pressing issues for me to take care of.” 

Pressing issues noted, Sana is well within arms reach, except you have another look at her charming face, her body under the water - she’s well defined in all avenues, fair skin that would even rival Dahyun’s for a quick comparison, her hands continue to do their own thing when they’re measuring the shape of your middle, fingertips grazing the soaked shirt and all. 

“I’m sorry” she breathes out, the faintest apology of them all. 

You’ve got your arms around her waist, not a care to fully realize what you’re actually doing; it’s a collapse in real time, her hand to the back of your neck: mistake #3. 

With a simple press of her lips on yours, she grips tightly, the draw of air clouding the intoxicating taste that has you humming a bit, the slide of her fingers down the line of your jaw before going off the rails with replacing the hand with a full on arm, hooking onto your neck while you move up to her upper back. 

But this inferno was unraveling. 

Her legs fill the gap between yours, hands are now on both sides of her face, thumb sliding across that prominent cheek bone that will have you sculpting out the details some other time. She’s kissing you like she wanted this to happen, the desperation, hunger even, like it would be the last thing needed over everything else, and you’d give that to her. It’s all sinking, that box of thoughts that was supposed to stay at the bottom of the ocean, the sealed lock intact and with no key to open, it’s resurfacing like the breaths of air you and Sana share with your faces just centimeters away from each other. 

“Do you think you can forgive me?” she stops to ask. 

A fucking truck of reasoning is what hits you, pulling back even more but your hands are now keeping Sana in place, just right above her ass holding at the hips. “Yes- no-” She pulls you in for another convincing kiss before another could be stolen on her cheek, the same sigh she sounded in your throat a few seconds ago comes around. “I don’t know anymore.” 

“It’s okay to not know.” Sana’s face softens when you can’t even bother to look her in the eyes now, tilting your chin up to support, lightly stroking it. “We probably shouldn’t.” 

She’s right. You’ve got to end this and you have to end it now.

“But what if we did?” You’re left breathing, in disbelief. 

“Would you want to find out?” Sana asks again, unsure but also confident. “There’s this kind of luxury I’m fascinated with discovering the unknown.” 

You’re thinking of these different stories in your head, the different kinds of graphs and tables riddled with numbers trying to come up with a logical case, predicting a scenario where you could forget about all of this, count the days until you won’t be alone again with the right person. Except Sana is dishing out all of these simple motions that have you leaning in for more, yearning. A hand is being slid across the shoulder, her face is suddenly closer with yours when you pull her towards you. “I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t afraid.” 

“Don’t feel bad,” she tells you, a comforting whisper, wisping in the breeze. “You’ll be able to catch on quickly.” 

(If there was anything that you’ve noticed while starting this new chapter: you’ve learned that the sly smile armed by Minatozaki Sana will have anybody flipping over, ruining lives and starting fires.) 

All common sense gets tossed out of the pool when you kiss her again, a choice that will have its own consequences when the time is right, the floodgates of sin opening harshly while you've just signed your one-way ticket straight to hell.

–

Another thing that you learn from the houses that are oozing with richness up and down the street is that money and sex have powerful selling points. 

This may be subject to change, but when you have an art piece like Sana stolen from the museum of her house (figuratively), all fingers and charges point toward theft, the necessary offenses that follow after don’t really matter as of right now. 

–

It’s not that difficult for you to fall in a place like this: carrying Sana up the steps but only stopping short at the doorway when she’s lapping her tongue into your mouth. She’s still wet in your hands from the pool, and you have the wall play as a part to keep her in place - the fit of your lips breaking apart before they find themselves again. 

“Mmm,” Sana hums into your mouth when you finally let her down, on the balls of her feet while your hands wrap around her waist again, knee lightly nudging the apparent line of your cock with the pads of her fingers soon after, testing it. 

“Hey,” you mumble, pulling away with an audible smack from her lips, tongue licking your mouth while she softly laughs, and again - it’s definitely on purpose when her hand palms your cock more firmly through the soaked sweatpants that has you gasping for a millisecond. “Trying to get on with it faster now, are we?” 

Her hand sets itself on your chest, eyes meeting with hers half-lidded, she knows what she’s doing, she knows that this is wrong, and she most definitely knows that this is on purpose. You tilt your  head more deeper only for her to stop you for not more than two seconds, before easily allowing you to kiss her once again. 

“Who’s leading?” Sana laughs at herself, still stark naked when your hands land at the rise of her hip, massaging the slope of her ass with the droplets of water gliding across your palms. “Wouldn’t be right of me to do all of the hard work, begging at the fact that you’re about to fuck me over in this huge house, get your fingers inside and finally have that perfect dick that Dahyun always talks about.” 

“She told you?”

“Much like every time we catch up. Always.” 

“What do you know so far?” 

Sana sighs when you kiss her again, the lines on her face softening like a flush of anxiety that suddenly went away in a matter of a second. Your hand is quick to travel to the back of her head, pull the elastic of her hair tie that lets her locks flow down while the counterpart is palming her warm, bare cunt, eliciting a slight gasp while you’re smiling into her skin. “She- she told me that you were disappointing the first time y-you guys did it.” 

“Oh?” you mutter, thumb tapping on her clit that makes her whole body stiffen while the pad of your middle finger slowly scoops under her folds, noting how much she’s gotten slick in the short span of time. “The inexperience was the main factor.” 

Another finger pushes inside, feeling the stretch while your ear receives the steady decline of Sana’s breaths, lip being pulled inward by the upper row of her teeth while her chest heaves, the heat becoming too unbearable to handle. She’s not one to let you take the easy route, putting her lips back with yours while you scoop under her luscious ass, walking past the doorway and into the bedroom - a space where Dahyun’s appearance was the common one - now introducing a newcomer that will make her case to stay. 

The landing on the bed isn’t gentle, and Sana slightly sets herself up on one elbow, while you’re tugging the sopped clothes off your body, trying to get a read into this pretty woman’s eyes of the things you want to do to her. You’ll make her cum, flip her into the mattress, have her bouncing on your cock later, get her whimpering while you drink in the sight of her pretty face just blown out, euphoric, the writing’s already on the wall before you even get a chance to draw the pen. 

“You think I’m gonna disappoint you with my performance? Maybe prove that Dahyun’s point still stands?” you ask her, making your space bigger over hers when you’re on top of her, pulling from the hips to get her to meet your thighs. Sana bites her lip in a short excitement, keeping her gaze on yours when her fingers finally wrap around your cock, giving a few experimental pumps while she spreads wider, opening the gates to an avenue that will have you packing your bags to the next house over. “Imagine if–”

“I’ll make you shut up about your worries, now fill my pussy up. With your fingers, your cock, just anything, please.” 

She’s desperate for you, and you have to admit it too, but when that first rush of every single sensation registering in your mind from the very instant you have your cock wrapped around her, sliding inside those lines with the small tug of your hips, pushing more while you could feel nails rip into your skin. 

It’s a new entry of data, the approach of how Sana’s pussy is downright perfect for you. There’s a slight throb, a misfire when the strokes are still hesitant, uncertain exchanges of breaths with the slow blinks between her eyes and yours. Uninviting, but all the more welcoming with her walls, clinging into the deeper ends of her cunt, breaking down the imaginary lines of numbers and rope circling through your head. 

“My, fuck–” and you also choke out something too when she says that, the muted cry she let out while you take a moment to readjust, sliding out before you yank Sana’s hips onto your cock again. “T-this is everything.” 

Like you need the exposition on the term everything. All of your worries wash away when you thrust more ferociously, the internal bomb in your brain ticking away the time every single speck of seconds that passes through burying your cock inside her. You’re nowhere near gentle at this point, the squeeze that has you mirroring Sana’s “hnns” over the claps of your thighs with hers, taking advantage of the arch in her back by hooking your arms underneath while one of her long legs locks around you. 

“So good,” she just groans out, relishing in the feeling of it. “Don’t stop–” 

You’re also not safe from it either, fingers resting alongside her midriff where her hands are placed on top, grasping at the new angle of your hips where it has her wheezing, the fresh spot of heat hitting the base also making your lose your sense of awareness, reduced to nothing but just a desolate being of a husband that’s throwing their marriage away. 

Her creaming cunt only keeps you focused, the pretty sounds and remarks coming out of her mouth has you giving her expressions of confusion, lust, shock, and maybe that longing look of when you see someone at first sight and it just kills you, right then and there. The sheets come undone, a pillow is used as a secondary support underneath her back, a clutch of the tit and she does this simple evil grab of your hips while you’re ruthlessly pounding into her helpless body, utilized as a vice the more you hold your end of the bargain. 

“Sana, you’re–” and again, the mind blanks out of this small blurb of praise before she just giggles for her response, fucking her so throughly that you’re running the different combinations of tempos to get her even more ruined, fucked dumb, maybe even have her begging to be used over your cock like this again soon - the eventuality of that notion will be all too apparent when the sun rises the next morning. 

She just clings to you, keeping your hips in motion while her hands cup around your face once more, pulling inward for that press of lips all over again like the beginning. You feel the wobbling lip, a thumb quick to keep her coaxing while she whimpers in absolute bliss. 

“I want you,” she huffs, and you’re falling through the cracks with every steady stroke of your cock between the opening of her legs, “to make me cum. Make a mess out of me and this pussy.” 

You’re taking shelter between her mounds, not wanting to look up in pension for the cardinal sins committed tonight, lips swiping up and down her neck that has Sana moan out in approval, the clamp of her walls tightening every return back to the bottom, her hands are over your back, tracing lines, fantasizing. She’s a fucking waterfall every thrust you take. 

“I’m- fuck–you’re gonna–gonna make me cum so fucking hard.” you feel the pulse impending, the muffled squeak that she makes in your lips, she’ll be the first to fall. That eruption happens fast, the spasm and tighter grab in her walls around you while she’s crying for now. 

Nothing could’ve prepared you for this incident, a flashpoint in time that was probably bound to happen, fucking Sana in the walls of your own bedroom this hard– “You’re something else, just like you were meant to have me like this, God.” 

“Keep fucking me like this - god that feels so good, You and your cock it’s-” she huffs, barely smiling. She can see you slipping, at the edge, the litany of moans sounding like a siren out at sea. That mess she requested, you’ll give it to her, bury your cock in the deepest depths where it shouldn’t even be humanly possible, where the molten hot walls are bursting the thickness of your head, grinding out every cell and fiber - it’s possible. “Fuck, that’s so hot when you’re all fucked out for me.” 

“Sana,” you say, and she has your hand over her tongue, licking up the thumb, and you’ll swear that it’ll do damage to you for centuries. 

“Mhm,” she responds nicely, the last bit of the hum coming out as a hitched whimper, “Cum inside me.” 

That’s how she’ll want to do things. If she wants something, she’ll get it. You do the same amount of damage to her like she did to you while she’s begging, whimpering, getting all of the lovely noises of being fucked out to oblivion out of her mouth until she’s leaking - washing you over, from the legs, to the pillows and sheets. Stretching her out perfectly, get her to slur out phrases that she would say normally on occasions not like this, only to come back around and have you fill in between the gaps. 

You slip, she slips, it won’t matter, because you or her will make the catch, that extra push deep, maybe harder. The velvety drag already has you addicted to her, the sight of her body above this hips was just the plus. 

“God, Sana. So fucking wonderful.” you snarl against the line of her cheek, one last final dip that has your cum flooding deep into her warm, velvety cunt. 

The throbs of your cock has Sana mumuring softly, saying something like - yes, yes, keep fucking your cum into me, so that I can feel it - nice and hot, god yes. 

You slide out halfway, and her hips buck from the tender motion while your hands rub her thighs. And you also black out for a second when a few more spurts coat her walls even more, the pullout quick for a fist around the head of your cock, covering her waist in the remaining bits of cum still left inside you - well fucked and sloppy. 

Sana’s eyelids flutter shut, your hand rubbing along the oblique of your hips, that sense of desire finally fading away when you fully realize what had just transpired in the past hour or so. The lights are off in the house with the illuminating glow of the moon breaking through the window, tinnitus ringing in your eardrums and your eyes are fixated on Sana again, cross-eyed on the cum-soaked fingers she has, taking the liberty of sucking on them shamelessly, and the fucking noises she makes has your jaw to the floor. 

“Thank you,” she says, sweetly, innocently, sitting up on the bed with her legs crossed, the trail of cum still apparent on her stomach. “You certainly did not disappoint.” 

You, my friend, are entirely fucked. 

“What’s gonna happen to us now?” you ask her, rubbing your face and shaking your head in disapproval while Sana cleans the rest of herself up with her fingers. “I think we made–”

“Did I not tell you to worry?” Sana’s quick to shut you down, her look cross while you don’t even bother to meet her in the eye. This is supposed to feel wrong, it shouldn’t feel like anything else besides that. She scoots herself over to you with a quick kiss to your cheek, one that you accept openly, but still feel pensive over. 

“We can talk about it later,” she says, sliding herself into the rumpled sheets, patting down the open space next to her. “Would you mind if I stay the night? In your room? And in your bed?” 

“I can’t really turn down that offer,” you laugh, following along with a hand trailing up the side of her figure, giving a meaningful press of lips to the spot of her hair, “I actually like the company now.” 

“Would you also mind if I want it later when I can’t sleep?” 

“I’m seriously gonna hate you for this when we’re done.” 

“But I’m asking nicely.” she says, and hums this sweet tone when you lay next to her, feeling her ass shimmying against your cock underneath. “You’ll say yes,right?”

“Keep up with the needy act, and maybe I’ll have to fuck the want right out of you.” 

Sana rolls herself on top of you, finger tracing the lines of your face again, sketching, the bottom of her lip tugged by a pair of teeth. There’s that sly smile again, mischievous. It’s the reality now, she’s won you over. 

“Consider it a gift for you.” she adds, kissing you again before she goes slack on your chest, the wave of sleep finally setting in. 

–

(This actually comes later when you can’t dream a wink, staring up at the high ceiling: 

It only takes little effort for someone to make a house into a home - and you learn to the best extent possible, Sana slots in that missing piece where Dahyun is supposed to fill - without even fully realizing it. 

Her and Dahyun are two sides of the same coin, both give you this sense of ease and confusion that has you looking off while they’re trying to hide the inevitable laughs. They’re both also moodmakers with the way they look at you with the earnest smile, a reminder of one and the other that you’re not too far behind to follow. 

Every nick of the mouth moving, the glint in their eyes that will break you down from the shackles of rational thoughts while the springs in your bed are supporting the absolute fucking you’re doing over them. 

Maybe this summer will be saved after all.) 

–

When the crack of dawn breaks through the sunrise, you’re trying to recollect what little thoughts you have left of your deteriorating marriage; as in, what’s gonna happen to you when Dahyun finds out you’ve slept with her close friend who just happens to live in the house right next door, aside from other things. This space was now tainted in the heinous acts you’ve committed but the only thing that was filling the front of your mind was the amount of work emails you saw on your phone while waking up. 

“You’re just gonna leave me here in the bed all alone?” Sana asks, your back still turned to her when you mindlessly flick up the switch to your bathroom. 

A simple spin on the ball of your heel, and the image is just majestic to witness. 

This 5’3 brunette that’s all sunshine and rainbows, replaced by a deity that oozes sexiness and uncapped lust, lays on the side of her frame with an elbow propped up to support her head, hair still having that post-fuck frizziness to it, the sheets are covering most of her middle, but that outreaching left leg exposed, folds in, and you catch that slope of her hip, her ass is also not that far behind to look over. 

You already know her body all too well. If you could put someone that’s remotely close to the Greek god of Aphrodite, Sana would come very close to that. 

“Are you really expecting yourself to stay here?” you ask, fishing for your toothbrush before washing it with one hand, the other grabbing the minty toothpaste that was adjacent to it in the cup. “You know that I have work, not to mention working at home too.” 

You watch from the doorway when she sits up, the romp of her sheets falling over in front that shows that pale chest, her firm breasts that lay beneath her fine collarbones, there’s a new set of hickeys - the hickeys, showing your favorite spot to soothe her while she’s wailing in your arms, the rise and fall of her shoulders every breath let out has another wanting bite of her swollen lips. 

“Is it too much to keep you company?” she asks again, tugging on the comforter, hoping that she’ll get the right answer out of you.

“It’s not that I mind about the company of you, it’s the fact that others would get suspicious.” you retort, placing down the brush filled toothpaste on the counter, “That’s the last thing that I want to happen.” 

“How long has Dahyun been at trial with her firm?” 

“At least a couple weeks at this point.” 

“That’s what I thought.” 

“You need to go home.” 

“But your place is a lot nicer than mine, clean also.” she smiles, looking up little by little when you approach her on the edge of the bed. A hand is outreached with hers, and it’s damning how well it fits with yours, the automatic reflex of brushing your thumb over the highest peak of her middle knuckle. You don’t even flinch at the fact that she’s moved your hand over to her breast, tracing her nipple. It’s not hard to ease into these seductive advances, softly chuckling at the way Sana’s tit has a sort of weight to them - perky, but impossible to resist. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” you ask yourself, a little loudly for Sana to hear too, “I have to get ready.” 

“Breakfast on the table?” 

“Have you freshen up before you do the walk of shame next door.” you whisper, helping her up, swooping under her legs in a bridal carry. The tangle of her hairs on your chest when she leans her head in, laughing, the smell of citrus and lingering sweat. “The comforter was too heavy and hot anyway.” 

Sana just giggles, waving her feet in the air, into the bathroom where her skin glows a little bit lighter. “What’s the point of having that open room next to yours if it’s not used?” 

–

(There’s a lot of questions that don’t get answered. Partly because Sana can’t concentrate while you’re kneeling between her legs in the shower, lapping away at her clit, washing away any slick that’s left out; her fingers are splayed out across the tile, slipping, dripping away from her hips. 

You also shouldn’t be whispering these sweet nothings into her ear either, kissing her as if in another reality, maybe this too, could be a thing. It isn’t fair, it’s not right. She comes off as urgent, hoping to keep your mind off of the responsibilities sitting at your desk for just a little while longer. “Don’t do this to me.” That’s a plea, your mouth hovering over her neck, she has your dress shirt draped over her on the kitchen island with her knees apart again, filling in the space while she’s all porcelain teeth and warm tongue. She tugs on your lips like she wants every last bit of you, and it’s not worth fighting for. Her mouth gets on the cuff of your ear, and she whispers this spell, a curse rather, impending your fate even more: 

“I think you know all of the things that I would do to you.”) 

–

Fucking Sana has its own luxury. 

This living art piece wandering about in your house where no one else knows. She comes to your place, you go to hers, it’s a trade off that’s very easy to do when you’re just a few steps away from each other’s doors. 

We could also talk about benefits. The benefits. She asks for a couple favors - a helping hand to clean the house (yours or hers) as an example - you have some requests of your own, mostly to just have a quick bite of her cooking or pull some aged alcohol that was gifted to you a long while ago, half  the bottle already gone before the end of one night. It usually ends up with you sinking inside of her, caressing her gentle body, kissing the nape of her neck when your hips mesh with hers perfectly. 

It’s a new fun that’s profound in yourself. This super popular model that has every hot contact of companies you could name off the top of your head in her phone, taking a quick hiatus for some ‘me’ time. She’s got a solid income, her closet is full of brands that you take note of to give to Dahyun later down the line, and the sex man, it’s just fucking- well, terrific. 

If having Sana all to yourself was the prime exclusivity in its own right, the girls she invites over make everything much more interesting, just aside from the fact that she comes unannounced most of the time. Oh, and that girl in her picture framed back at her place, Chou Tzuyu, she’s a real sweetheart. You’ll have her tag along with Sana no matter what time of the day it is (or night, because you’ll always be free outside of work when it counts). 

Sana usually stays in your house more compared to hers, and she usually seeks you out first with a longing press of lips on yours. Tender, sweet, before you get into the best part of your regular business day, bending her over the nearest piece of furniture and dumping a nice hot load between her thighs while she goes on doing whatever you need her to do around the house to keep herself busy. 

She doesn’t let you have your way that easily. There’s this business call you’re doing, talking about how the numbers don’t really add up for this list of statistic report you were handed an hour prior, trying to fight the gravity of your head leaning forward–

“Sana, your fucking mouth. So good, jesus.” you mutter, cradling her head while she taps your cock on her perfect lips, laving her tongue over before she dips down again, pushing you past the tightness of her throat. 

–of the very person pushing your thighs apart underneath the desk when she primes at the very angle, bobbing her head slowly while maintaining that hypnotic friction of her hand over your shaft. 

You hit the key binded to the mute button on the call, not giving a single ear of the person in the session rambling about well, if we could get an extra day or two with the new inputs for the program, then maybe we the numbers that are put together can line up with the graph - ‘and, let me get this straight–’ 

“Mmph, god.” You’re broken down to just a few simple actions, combing Sana’s hair, guiding her silkly mouth onto your cock, and she doesn’t let up the fucking pace. You’ve got your fingers intertwined with hers on your thigh, not giving a care of how she’s so persistent to get you off like this, choking, drawing back for some air - her pinky and ring finger moving in this motion on the tip that has you shuddering. 

“Such a fucking hard worker,” she says, biting her lip, the glare in her eyes that’s nearly demonic while her tongue slips along the underside and upper part of your cock. “How could you talk so calmly while your dick is in my mouth?” 

“I’ve had practice before,” you answer, slightly smirking at the memory of Dahyun doing the exact same to you long ago, it’s no different.

Keeping it together wasn’t the option anymore, while the rush of Sana’s mouth is drawn back to you, proceeding with the online meeting as planned, discussing the future plans delegated to your coworkers. Too bad that they can’t hear the litany of gurgles and gags happening below your desk, struggling to not use one hand and keep Sana buried under there, watching with that lustful look in your eyes when she knows you’re about to pop, the shake of your leg as the sole hint to what she needs before putting both hands into the mix, all wet while every ounce of focus gets diluted to the ceiling. 

The meeting eventually ends while groaning at Sana’s throat bottoming you out, spilling inside that heat with a weak buck of your hips, shoving everything into her where your balls meet her chin. It just happens, more and more; her mouth is so fucked for you that some of the cum gets on her teeth when you slide out of her. The worst part: you’re still fucking leaking, getting it on her bottom lip, another rope above her eyebrow; the splatter doesn’t even end when she lightly presses a thumb down at the base and you get another drop to her cheek - it still isn’t fair when she wraps her fingers around, lightly stoking while your entire lower half of your body is still twitching once the work is all done. 

Sana can be evil, but she goes back to being a bundle of joy when she plants a kiss to the tip, pushing your chair back and kisses you back on the lips, wiping some remnants of your cum from your lips onto her fingertip while she sucks them cleanly. “Productive call?” 

“Got a few more clients to talk to, but thanks. I needed that.” you sigh, fingers on her chin to assess the proof, nodding Sana off to go ahead and wash up before cooking lunch. 

“You still want the usual meal?” 

–

Sana goes away for a few days, and the place gets hollow again. 

You have the phone in your ear with your manager to talk about potential vacation time (talk about great timing too), and with a press of a button on the TV, you see the headline on the channel broadcast: 

Dahyun and her firm won the trial. Which means that she’s finally coming home.

–

Dahyun’s homecoming is a bit short lived when you wait for her right on the street, her personal chauffeur rolling away while she’s walking to you with a duffel bag, a carry-on luggage, and her briefcase that she sets down before jumping into your arms. She smells soapy, a nice tinge of lavender when you bury your nose into the midpoint of her collar and neck. You tell her that you’re proud, give her the necessary congrats before dishing out the reassurance that you didn’t burn the goddamn place down while she was out saving her own job. 

“You didn’t miss much,” you say, watching Dahyun take a longing bite of the salmon dish you cooked for her, the hum of approval with that smile you’ve missed so much for god knows how many weeks has it been. “Besides the fact that you were saving your career, I kept myself busy with the projects at mine.” 

“Really,” she starts, “I would think that you’d drive yourself insane up until I finally managed to get back. That racing sim setup would literally drive your attention away from me, so I thought that was one of the things to keep you busy.” 

“I didn’t even have the whole thing unboxed yet,” you manage, swiping her glass of water for you to drink out of while she drives the knife into the food for another slice. “If anything, I was just cooped up in my office while keeping the house nice and tidy.” 

“Good to know. Have you been doing stuff with the others while I was gone?” 

“Who do you mean?” 

“I mean. Jihyo, Mina, maybe even Sana.” Dahyun says, and your gaze shifts from stoic to this more pensive one; like the last name makes you remember things that you’re not supposed to. “You did help with Sana right?” 

“I did. I was hoping that she left a handful of messages for you to read when you got off the plane.” 

The doorbell rings, and your wife is quick to answer it with that fast-paced walk of hers. By the time she opens the door, the home is filled with a familiar sound that was echoing through the hallways not that long ago, a week, three weeks even. 

Sana greets Dahyun with a loving embrace much like yours earlier this morning. Their conversation was pretty much filled with the usual ‘when did you get back?”, ‘you have to fill me in on everything that happened at your work!’, and ‘did you give him a hard time with the stuff you asked him to do?’ All of these questions have your head at an angle when you see the pair of them cling onto each other, like lost friends who haven’t seen each other but miraculously reunite at an airport after who knows what time frame you’d put them in. 

(Sana gives you this gaze, one that will have you kicking your heels while she combs down Dahyun’s hair, that sly smile of a girl who knows what they did, what she does to you.) 

You do nothing, just give her the simple wave and smile like nothing ever happened, while your mind plays a whole different tune and movie in the back of your head. 

–

(A small tidbit about montages: these moments in time from here on out to help shape up how stories play going forward. It’s not pretty, playing Sana’s game of chess while the ‘oh, my wife doesn’t know I cheated on her with her best friend who just happens to be our next door neighbor’ runs in your head. 

The blips don’t also fucking help either:

Instance #1: Another house party hosted by you and Dahyun where you bump into Sana in the kitchen, who returns with a playful tap to your crotch and a smack to your ass that has you buckling forward while you hear her laugh fade into the crowd.

Instance #2: Sana comes over for a movie night with Dahyun. While she went to use the bathroom, she uses this as an advantage to straddle over your lap, sucking your face up with her lips like a vacuum in the dark before she hurries back to her original spot on the couch, fixing up her hair and wiping her lips, playfully pointing at the hickey underneath your jaw that has you rolling her eyes by the time Dahyun settles back in the seat.  

And finally, instance #3: The infamous office room incident. Where you had a dinner party with the neighbors again to celebrate your promotional achievement of heading this massive project that would benefit into making electric cars more affordable for the common money maker. Everyone is having fun with the drinks and partying aspect of it while Sana is on her knees, again, in the dark, deepthroating your cock with the door open for anyone to notice. All urges are off the table when you and her stow yourselves away into the guest room (with the meticulously placed soundproof foam pads all over the walls) when you have Sana’s light body bouncing over your cock, hammering down her hot cunt for a few minutes while she bites her own finger when you switch up the tempo to be more slow, loving, a deliberate way where she can really feel every throb inside her. She has a hand to the small of your back, you’re covering her moans with your palm, making her cum over and over until she’s walking to her house with a stutter in her step. 

More incidents did occur, but there’s got to be a sense of craziness if we’re thinking of going through all of them.) 

–

“I’d say that things are pretty normal now,” you say, arm around Dahyun’s back with fingertips just grazing the top of her ass, legs over your lap while taking shade on the couch in the backyard patio, hanging out with a quartet of drinks on the table, two for you, and the other two for Sana and Tzuyu. 

They’re here on another hot Thursday, not wanting to risk a brownout with the a/c running for more than the viable six to eight hours that you’d normally have while working, taking a dip in the pool for a bit. Two pretty girls in clad bikinis: Sana in a revealing two piece that barely covers her nipples and pussy, Tzuyu in a striking singular bathing suit that shows those luscious thighs almost having you drool when she gets out of the water. 

“This was so much better than just walking around in our underwear around the house.” Tzuyu says, laughing, grabbing her bottle of this brand you pulled from the fridge when she takes a nice swig. You remember the faint memory of waking up one morning with Tzuyu and Sana, both of them taking turns fucking you in different parts around the house. Tzuyu on the couch in the living room and Sana again on your office chair, hopping along your cock while you’re typing in a report on the desktop. 

Sana’s laugh fills the atmosphere when she talks about pushing Dahyun into the pool, her look unamused when you stare at her in bewilderment while she sees Dahyun slap your shoulder, motioning you to take on the defensive. “You really have nothing else better to do than to spend your time with us.” 

“You and Dahyun are good company.” Sana says, dismissively, hand on Tzuyu’s thigh to also include her in the conversation. 

Dahyun shifts her legs off of your lap, pulling them in towards her while you sit up, leaning forward for the empty bottles before you’re stopped by Sana and Tzuyu, who both offered to get another round of drinks back inside while you relax. The pair of them both walk away, arm in arm, two beautiful girls with both bearing breathtaking asses, all within line of your eyesight. 

“You don’t think I know,” Dahyun says, snapping your gaze immediately back to her. 

“Know what?” you say, crossing your arm over while she leans in closer to you, making a face that looks very serious, but not threatening. A lick of your inner lip sends you uneasy while Dahyun’s eyes stare deeply into your soul. That deepening pit of anxiety inside your stomach has you second guessing on whether or not being honest and transparent with your wife should be the best route to go knowing what you did. What you’ve done. 

“Nothing,” she answers after, “Wanted to test something out of you.” Dahyun then leans her head into your collarbone while you stare out into the blue horizon hearing the sounds of Sana and Tzuyu come back with another bundle of bottles waiting to be downed. 

–

This happens entirely on a whim, and when you’re not even a part of the picture. 

Sana answers the door to her house, eyes shooting up when Dahyun’s at the top step, smiling with a bag from the bakery and a full bottle of sparkling cider. 

It’s the usual game of the catch-up conversation, Dahyun talks about her draining work from the trial, plus her extended vacation time handed by her boss. Sana talks about the upcoming collabs that she’s been appointed to, a plane waiting with an open door for her on the taxiway by the end of the month. 

Exchanging laughs, quick memories of their past hangouts. The high-school reunion type vibe has this sense of nostalgic feeling between the two of them, but Dahyun drops the act completely out of nowhere to talk about more pressing matters. 

“How long?” she asks Sana, placing her glass neatly on the counter across from her. 

“What are you talking about?” Sana says, swallowing down a lump of bread down her throat, worrying. “Did I do something wrong?” 

“I know you’ve been getting cozy with him,” Dahyun says flatly, “I just want you to tell me if that’s true or not.” 

“About?” 

“Getting his dick all up inside of you like you wanted.” 

“I thought you were okay with it?” 

“I never said anything remotely close to that.” Dahyun sighs, grabbing the half-full bottle of cider before downing it straight from the opening, placing it down right after while Sana taps her finger on the counter. “Besides, he’s probably worried that our marriage is ruined.” 

“Doesn’t seem that way.” 

“Sana, what are you implying?” 

“What I’m implying,” Sana prompts sweetly, stepping towards Dahyun around the counter, snaking a hand down her waist where it’s open in the crop-top, kissing her by surprise. Dahyun’s mouth opens wider, fingers curling around the nape of Sana’s neck, like an old memory locked away coming to light again. “Is that we show your lovely man that shouldn’t be the case between us.” 

She dips her face into Dahyun’s again, the kiss more intoxicating than the first initial contact. It’s how Dahyun melts down from Sana, the way her spine curves backwards, Sana’s hands there at the perfect time to support her, both of them are panting into it, how open they were about their feelings for each other before you waltzed in to have Dahyun all to yourself. 

“I hate how I like you and him both.” Dahyun gasps when Sana plants her lips across her neck, her hands grasping her waist and ass that gets this hum of approval from Sana on her skin. “Maybe we could find a probable compromise to solve this little problem?” 

“Is it the same compromise I’m thinking of seeing his pretty eyes when we cum all over his cock?” Sana asks with a wink while Dahyun just giggles into her chest. 

“I love it when you and I are on the same page.” 

–

A sigh leaves your lips when you hear how the metal grinds inside the lock of your doorknob, pushing the front door open to see the surprise of an article of clothing, sitting at your feet, tilting your head to the side when you pick it up to see that it was a cropped shirt. The soft sound of the humidifier fills the eerie silence when your eyes notice another piece of clothing a few inches away from the shirt, connecting the dots in your mind realizing the trail of clothes up the stairs. 

Once up the steps, the pieces start to get larger: first a shirt, then some stockings, the door leading into your bedroom was ajar, the knob hanging with two pairs of panties. The hinges on your door squeak but so quietly, and your ears are greeted with a familiar laugh, not just one, but two. 

Without producing any more noise to make your presence known, your eye captures the sight of Sana on your bed, dipping her head lower to a girl laying underneath, caressing her face while the other girl giggles, returning the kiss openly. It’s pretty peculiar, when you also realize that both of them are naked on your mattress, it’s also really fucking peculiar when you connect the dots that the girl laying underneath Sana is Dahyun of all people. 

“I suppose that Sana’s little secret was finally let out by her.” you finally say, leaning on the door frame with the smooth wood wide open. And when the both look up at you, Sana looking up and forward, Dahyun looking from under while laying still, fuck, it’s sending signals to your brain at the image of them on top of each other like this, a mesh of skin on skin, their pretty faces stacked on their chins - you could sketch it on an easel, because that’s a literal art piece in real time. 

Your mind doesn’t even register the few seconds after, when both Dahyun and Sana make way towards you, the movement of their bodies in perfect sync, hypnotized at the way you watch how they stand on their tiptoes - ghosting their hands all over your chest and hips while your hands tend to their asses, palm at the defined fit of them, softly laughing. 

“We had,” Sana and Dahyun both say each word in different pauses, something straight out of a horror movie at the way they ad lib each other’s utterances. “An idea,” Sana adds. “That you’d hope you’ll like.” Dahyun finishes. “Would you like to see what we were discussing?” 

(God picked your battles, and maybe you could let him off the hook just this once.) 

“Impress me,” you simply say, while Sana pulls your head into hers when she kisses you in front of Dahyun. 

–

So Sana and Dahyun return to the positions where you first found them.

The only difference being, Dahyun hanging her head off the bed upside down, dragging her tongue across the seam of your balls while Sana’s tongue slips inside your mouth, her slender fingers giving these languid strokes to your cock while the pair of them just hum in content, getting you ready when all of the gears are primed to click. 

The contrast between the two of them, Sana being gentle with her lips while Dahyun is the complete opposite with hers, aggressive with the way her tongue swipes across the underside of your cock, her hands wrapped around your thighs to get more of those lavish licks at the base that has you counting stars behind your eyelids early. 

“How are you rock fucking hard?” Sana husks, brushing her lips against yours while Dahyun leaves a path of pecks to your inner thigh before she rolls her body over, looking up with her doe eyes while Sana lets herself fall right next to her, flipping her hair back while the sheets crinkle at the elbows, reflecting the same look before flashing her eyes back at Dahyun. “Makes me wonder who you’re gonna finish inside of at the end of this.” 

“Didn’t know that this was a competition,” you say, mind zoning out when Sana draws her tongue up your underside now in a quick lick, Dahyun smiling on the opposite end doing the same exact thing, that will most definitely bite back your words. 

It’s only right that Dahyun gets to be the first to push your head into her mouth, inhaling a bit while her tongue smoothes out across the area, delicately brushing along the length that sends the synapses in your spine on an electrical current. Sana just looks in awe at how much your wife is taking you, twisting a hand in play while she plants a wet kiss to her temple. 

You could get lost in the finesse of how Dahyun’s small hands skate up your length, the cushion of her mouth already enough to have your tongue between your teeth, but Sana didn’t come her to just watch, tapping lightly on her shoulder and sliding you out of one heat into the next, and the expectation you had for Sana blowing you always gets thrown out the window. 

“Fucking whore she is,” Dahyun rasps when Sana lowers her lips more down your cock, rolling along with the lightest graze of her teeth along the top, a twitch of your legs with a billowing puff of your cheeks to let them know that what they’re doing is working. How many times has he let you blow him under the desk? You hear Dahyun ask Sana, pulling some stray strands of hair from her side when she clasps her lips at the base, keeping you there in the sweltering heat. 

“Oh Dahyun,” Sana reprimands, “You have no idea how much I’ve made him cum while you were away.” 

A hand is thrown into the mix, behind both of their heads when they meet the glints in their eyes, uniformly taking your cockhead from the side, slowly sliding down at the suction, how they both fluidly slide you in their mouths in alternating fashion. Sana popping with her mouth, Dahyun swiping along the slit the next second. 

“Christ girls,” and you could hear the giggles of satisfaction to your amazement when they both have a hand along the length, stroking slowly to the point you can’t even look them in the eye. “You had this planned for a while now, haven’t you?” 

“I was against Sana’s crazy idea,” Dahyun purrs, face flushed when you notice that Sana’s hand is at her rear, fingers dipping into her cunt that’s already slicked up, waiting to be stretched, “but then she convinced me otherwise after some- propper persuasion.” 

“Tell me,” Sana chimes in, that innocent pout with her pursed lips doing absolutely no justice to how she looks right now, “Who do you think is the bigger slut between the two of us, me? Or Dahyunie?” 

Dahyun guwaffs when she leans into your palm, slapping your cock along her lips while you thumb the soft skin on her temple, swiping the underside of your head makes you grit your teeth at the amount of teasing they’re both doing. “Maybe he should fuck our faces to see,” she suggests, “Who could choke the hardest over this fucking cock.” 

(With a pair of wide open eyes, you could only mouth the word, “fuck.”) 

“You’d like that anyway, won’t you daddy?” 

The obedience settles in when both of these girls let their hands rest on the edge of the bed, finger and thumb wrapped around your cock when you tell both of them to hang their mouths open, rubbing your tip around the rim of Sana’s lips when she opens wider, wider until her jaw fully slacks at the whole length, and you love how she’s a pro at this. 

You take your deserved pleasure of how each of these girls' mouths feel around you. Sana’s lips being so unbearably perfect with those pretty lips of hers, sliding out and have Dahyun practically inhale your cock next, her eyes blinking up over the tight seal she has over you. “Jesus, baby–” 

Sana helps play the guide fucking your cock more into Dahyun’s mouth, the subtle flick she has sliding around with every move and thrust flushing into her throat. Her small lips were already ahead of the curve mirroring Sana’s movements a few minutes ago, the pressure sending waves from your hips up, lightly clutching her hair to keep the ache building. 

“Taking your baby so well, huh?” Sana growls over the sound of Dahyun desperately slipping her head down your length. “You like how she’s deepthroating you after not having your cock for a whole month?” 

“Feels so fucking good,” you answer, spreading your legs apart to keep Dahyun’s mouth on your cock warm, moaning so loud when Sana’s other hand works your balls, fingernails scratching along the ridges of skin while she fingers her, the moans sending vibrations along your shaft nearly breaking you. “Keep- gonna cum on this pretty fucking face.” 

Borderline filthy, almost off the fucking rails. Sana doesn’t like to play fair when she pulls Dahyun off of your cock, the drag of her tongue stripped off with a line spit connecting to her lips that’s soon catered to Sana’s mouth kissing Dahyun again, and the sight in itself is a blessing that you’ll never take for granted, how their faces tilt every second they meet, the smile breaking at the corner where you could notice them, delicately letting their fingers explore their faces, hooking into their hair and necks, the rise and fall of their shoulder every breath taken. 

Sana’s head spins out of control when she’s pushed onto the pillows of the bed, propping on her elbows while Dahyun spreads her knees apart more, kissing up the line of her inner thigh. “Dahyun,” she rasps, head reeling back when she’s getting close to the center, “I’ve been dreaming of this to happen for so long: you eating me out while your husband is oh- looks like he’s already ahead of the–” 

You don’t pay attention to their short exchange of words, relishing in the taste of Dahyun’s pussy, licking past the slit when you grip her asscheeks a little more tighter, a slip of the tongue over her clit, lapping up in the ways that you know your wife likes. 

Like the trail of clothes to the bedroom, your vibrations transfer up to Dahyun’s mouth and into Sana’s cunt; it’s a connecting line of fucking when you slide your tongue deeper, where the heat is the most hot, hooking your arms over Dahyun’s thigh’s while Sana grips her head, whimpering the moans where she’s left struggling for air. 

“Look at us, Dahyun, shit, he’s eating away at you, you’re eating away at me, this is so fucking good.” 

Sana’s the first to sputter, the amount of hums in approval, cracking under the faults. You and Dahyun are on the same page when you’re slipping two fingers in - then three; Dahyun catches on while getting fucked over, adding her four fingers into Sana’s stretching pussy. She’s gonna lose it. 

That whine she makes, when she’s over the edge, it’s the missing symphony in your ears. 

“Yes, I’m cum– gonna fucking cum,” she cries out, Dahyun leans all the way in, back arched in a way that would rival a gymnast. The way your fingers are clutching at her snowy skin, enough to easily scratch and draw bruises, she’s quivering when you’ve also made her reach the peak like Sana: these meaningless sounds, air getting more static through their tracheas. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” Dahyun whines out matching Sana’s volume, hips tensing while your mouth is pressing against the pucker of her ass, tongue and finger tag teaming while she fucks Sana through her sensitive pussy, past the first hurdle of cumming and skating a pair of fingertips over her clit, making Sana lock her knees while the circles on her nub continue, speaking complete nonsense and in mewls. 

“I’ll fuck you now, just like you wanted.” you spit, pulling yourself closer to Dahyun by the hips, her whole body relaxing when you have the head of your cock, skimming the folds of her pussy while Sana cradles her head on her boobs, leaving languid kisses while Sana puts her legs up underneath. 

“Need it–” Dahyun pants, only to be shut up by Sana kissing her again to keep her dazed. 

“What do you need, honey?” you ask, leaning forward to kiss the line of her back, hand massaging her waist before you retract your hand up the dunes of her hip, onto the divot of her hip while impulsively smacking your wife’s ass that makes her yelp at how hard you hit it. 

“Your cock- need your cock inside me-” She can barely answer while she’s drunk at the teasing of your cock along her pussy while Sana’s lips work her neck. “Need you to fuck me.”

“Well, he’s gonna have his work cut out for you isn’t he?” Sana asks, massaging Dahyun’s waist while the top of your thigh meets Sana’s ass, licking your finger to make her squeal when you rub it on her clit, and you get several. “Fucking our brains till we’re drained.” she tells you, watching as you stroke the length of your cock. How long could you hold out? How much can you handle? You’ll be good for us, let you easy- until you’re cumming a whole fucking mess. 

Sana means business, Dahyun is already putty just waiting to be put back into a tube and spilled over on the bed. “You two will be good girls for me, and I’ll fuck you guys right.” 

You mean what you say, it’s in existence. And when you push your head into Dahyun’s perfect pussy, the opening rips out a tone within her that you’ll always remember - sucking in an air at the clamp, taking you all the way. Sana smiles at the wince Dahyun makes, holding her face when you pull back, slowly thrusting halfway, the tightness leaving you speechless. 

That very moment where you’re sinking - where you don’t even have to say anything. (Because Dahyun was just made to take your cock that doesn’t feel undeserving at all.) Her ass is spread out, cunt gripping the whole fucking length while she buries her head into Sana’s neck. You could also hear a hush come from Sana’s lips while you’re still fixated on your cock disappearing inside of Dahyun. 

“Just-” Dahyun sputters, the octave in her voice going up pitch by pitch, fucking her soaking hole while you’re pushing everything to the possible ability you can, where you can feel the clench around your head, sobbing, hands over the dough of her ass, getting her cock drunk until you senselessly empty yourself inside her. 

“Harder,” Sana chides, tongue on the neck while she’s the supporting beam of the shaking girl laying on top of her. “I want her to be broken in two.” 

So you keep pounding, this familiar angle with your hips to where Dahyun has died before, shrieking while she feels like she’s floating in her head. When you see her head move over to the side, her profile in view, you’re blown away by the fade of her blush, Sana’s hand underneath to her chin, her back arched to the highest point she could possibly have it in, pistoning yourself in like it wasn’t the daily routine as it is, not ever realizing that it would never stop being like this. 

When her moans reach the apex, you could see Dahyun mouthing something, a wobbling lip hindering for her to even say the words properly - Baby, I’m gonna fucking– cum so hard on your- 

One final push in, and her entire lower half shakes, a dam finally cracking under the pressure. 

Sana’s just there to admire the artwork of her face, while reassuring that everything will be taken care of once all of this is done, a kiss to the lips while your cock continues to slowly plunge deep, cumming on your hips, the warmth too comfy to even leave. This would be great, one more sense of presence in the bed that will be a mainstay from now on. 

“Look at you doing so well for him,” Sana says, and she’s still laughing, drunk on the sounds of Dahyun while her half-lidded eyes are telling a different tale. “You’ve missed his big fucking cock, fitting so perfectly inside you, hmm? Look at how much you creamed all over him, ugh, filthy.” 

Dahyun just shudders while you’re massaging her inner thigh, pulling the head of your cock out of her fucked pussy, slapping the head agasint the sensitive clit, and you chuckle lightly at the small twitches she makes every hit that she feels; once, twice, thrice, and even the fourth. 

“Was that enough to satisfy you?” you ask, learning over to get your face in between the two pretty girls, getting a whiff of your wife’s hair while Sana’s quick to plant her lips on the cuff of your ear, bold, trying to hide how badly she wants the next go at you railing her. “Could you take more tries before your cunt gets my load all up inside of you?” 

“She’s not gonna answer that for you right away.” Sana sliding herself down, her fingers fluttering around your shaft. She does these circular motions alongside the skin that had your head sideways the other day back on the couch, realizing how sterile you were at being delicately handled, she’ll play that to her advantage, and she always finds something new. 

“Now that you had your fill with her,” she continues on with this while showering Dahyun with peppered kisses across her breasts. “Don’t you think I should have a go? Make you throb to the point where I get to feel the teeny bits of precum before you burst?” 

“Sana, that’s not nice.” you tell her, lightly tapping Dahyun’s waist, leaning over to the nook of her neck to whisper something. Have her something to do while keeping Sana’s mouth occupied, because I hate how she doesn’t shut up about things like these. And Dahyun follows along, still coming down on her high, shimmying her way up on her knees and when she finally hovers over Sana’s face, you see the quick peek of her tongue tip in preparation while your fingers are working fast around Sana’s thighs, pulling her towards you and priming Dahyun for the perfect angle. 

“Should we shut this little slut up, honey?’ Dahyun asks, biting her lip at you while you slapping your cock along Sana’s folds, to an amount enough for her to hide the growl coming out of her mouth. “I think she’s a little too antsy for the both of us.” 

“Ladies first,” you smirk, providing the common courtesy, dipping your cockhead in before backing out, catching the small ‘fuck’ being let out by Sana. Dahyun takes the quick moment of weakness as an opportunity to finally sit on her face, her hand also quick to rub her clit while the woman’s open mouth on her pussy starts to tear away at the threads, and you know Sana well enough to describe the feelings. 

It’s listed as this: tight, so fucking tight to the point that it should be considered to a world class delicacy that’s not meant to be enjoyed leisurely. 

That sharp draw of air through the thin lines of your teeth, finding that leverage into her cunt, easing into her, trying not to get ahead of yourself when she’s finally flush with your hips. You could hear the hum of satisfaction through Dahyun, her hand gripping Sana’s hairs between her legs, lightly grinding her cunt over her wet, hot mouth. 

“Right there, yeah, there we go.” How your cock stretches alongside the walls, spreading her apart. It’s always a real show to keep both eyes open on, no quarter of the inch left behind. Sana would be this tornado that swoops in places, taking people off their feet. In trade for that, she offers a grace with her person - a vibe that comes off as rich, tied to materialism, to be used as a personal fucktoy when the time is right, and that instance of ‘time’ happens to be legitimately, every time. 

You could take days to figure out how you managed to get in this position. It’ll only take you hours, minutes; hell, maybe even less than a few milliseconds to wrap your head around the fact of how full you make Sana with your cock, providing the same structure of strokes, slowly building up pace like with Dahyun a few minutes ago. 

“How’s he feeling, Sana? Does he fill you up well like he said that he would?” Dahyun finally says, hair curtaining the right side of her face while Sana’s eyes can only look up while her mouth works her pussy again. The gluttal sounds of moans and chokes and smacks of Sana’s lips on Dahyun’s other lips, the only thing that she can do while you’re splitting Sana apart, her also doing some small movements so that she could fuck herself back onto your cock. 

Dahyun pulls her hips up for Sana to speak, “Oh baby, it’s fucking me so deep. Want him - want daddy to fuck this pretty pussy–all for him.” 

“Is that something you can do…fuck her cunt the same way you fucked my cunt?” 

This takes a pause, flashing a gaze to Dahyun while you could feel the muscles flex in Sana’s legs and hips, driving yourself into her continuously, keeping a rhythm in check. The demand that’s being proposed doesn’t even register in your mind and Dahyun does this swift motion of doing a complete one-eighty of her hips, pressing her ass down onto Sana’s forehead, leaning over with a hand onto her waist while the other pulls your face in with her small fingers. You’ll have to pay attention, because her lips are quick to keep you from snapping out of Sana’s perfect pussy. 

“What are you asking me to–” 

“I want you–” one kiss to get you drunk from Dahyun, “to fuck her properly–” another kiss to keep focus, “until she cums–” nothing wrong with having a third kiss, “all over this perfect cock.” 

Your hand is quick to reach across for Dahyun’s breast, kneading it in a way that she knows that she’s still yours, her eyes flickering down to the sight of your cock sinking back into Sana’s blown cunt, floating a pair of fingers on the clit, watching as you tear her apart, not wanting to shy or look away herself. 

Sana’s quick to pull her face off of Dahyun’s ass, gasping for air before sweeping the flat of her tongue across her pussy once again, “So fucking perfect for me, daddy, please, don’t stop,” is what she says to you while you can see her legs go limp slightly from the sides. 

The creaks of your lofted bed frame are singing at the shift of movement between the bedsheets and pillows, pulling yourself (with Sana inside still) up to the edge, planting both of your knees when you bottom yourself a little bit more deeper. You notice the image of Sana’s face fucked out, how she’s blushing, twisting her head to the right with her eyes closed, Dahyun manages to stave off to the side, taking a momentary break while you carry on with teasing Sana’s swollen clit, getting a few whines, moving her head against the sheets in a brief tantrum. 

“Had enough yet?” you had the frame of asking, smiling alongside the line of Sana’s neck while the temporary angle of your cock just nudges that one spot you’ve managed to hit a couple times, the symphony of Sana’s little ‘oh’s’ when a small move of the hips just has Sana’s cunt clenching the head of your cock to send you gasping as well. 

“Stop - stop with the questions,” she huffs, body stiffening before the wave of relaxation when you’re leaving more pretty bruises along the drawn canvas of her middle, licking up the deserved sweat of your hard work that’s also staining the sheets, along with the soaking that’s between your legs and hers. 

You get a command, Sana looks up in a panic when Dahyun tells you to start fucking her harder, lifting the small of her back to get her horizontal with the mattress. 

The levels just only seem to go up higher than then; Sana’s eyes being pulled down and rolled back. She knows you’re hitting the right spot, because of how she’s lightly pulling her legs up, you doing most of the support when she’s drawing these hitches of air, shuddering all over your waist while you push her beyond that edge. Her head is doing this bobbing motion when you slide with that upstroke, and you could feel the drag of her nails digging into your forearms that would seem accidental in another circumstance. 

Dahyun plays spectator, catching her breath, hand toying between her thighs while you’re fucking the girl beneath you into a spilled puddle all over your lap. 

“Are you seriously getting off without my help?” you ask, effortlessly gliding into the folds of Sana’s cunt. “Touching yourself while your best friend is taking my cock, sweetie? God, look at her, she’s wrecked.” 

Sana pulls you in with little strength she has left, able to get her arms around your neck and shoulders, tightening that pull even more against you. 

“Want you to cum,” she pleads, “I want you to cum inside and just, fuck, you don’t–” It’s miserable, hopeless, the power you have to just do exactly that with the way both Dahyun and Sana are both moaning and panting and just straight up rubbing both of their swollen clits while the length of your cock is still drowning in one of them. 

It’s how you do these broad strokes, slowly, strategically, a technique that you’ve perfected over the amounts of times you’ve got yourself completely fucked over, balls tapping above the pucker of Sana’s ass when pulling yourself in from the top of her thighs, a holding point while doing the best punishment of teasing you could ever do for someone like her. 

(Calling Dahyun over: shut this bitch up for me, please?) 

It’ll do you numbers in which: you’re still fucking Sana insanely hard still, with Dahyun’s head hovering above the present action. 

Sana’s clutching on to Dahyun’s leg, pressing her eyes into the skin, not wanting to let this fantastic feeling ever end, muttering all of the lovely things that she’s told you before multiple times. You could see the tug on her lips, tilting your head at how familiar the look was because you’ve seen it the first few times at how she couldn’t believe that you’d feel this good inside her, to get her stomach transformed into ashes and have her seeing stars. Sana’s body is “Pandora’s box’ full of lust, just waiting to be opened until you’ll give her opulence of what she needs from you, to fill her up. 

“Fuck her through and through,” Dahyun orders with this hint of anger, “need to see her cum–” 

“Give me your mouth, princess,” retreating from Sana’s exhausted cunt and getting Dahyun’s mouth all over you, cleaning up the mess of Sana’s slick right off of your length, stomach dipping when her throat swallows almost the entire half. 

Your ears are zeroing in on the gags your wife is making on your cock, doing a double feature while her fingers are rubbing Sana’s clit to keep that ache, grasping a high ponytail with one hand, sucking away that will have you dreaming that the tension is almost tempting of spilling inside her throat right at that second. Dialing back with what little warning you have left, slipping back into the other hot warmth below her chin. 

Despite the numbness clouding your brain, the obscene sounds of hums and whines tie in perfect tandem while you’re gliding back into Sana’s cunt, alternating between the tender rings of muscles, stretching around your cock in a one-two step: Dahyun’s mouth sliding and slobbering down your length, teasing Sana with your cockhead in her cunt massaging the walls around that squeezing vice. 

You’re not at fault for when it happens: face red hot from within, the sound that rips through your vocal cords while your knees buck at the sensation of Sana’s ass bouncing back off the edge of the bed, and the small gyration of her hips when you’ve driven all the way to the hilt, she can sense it too.

Again, you’re not at fault for the way your cock pulsates that first second inside Sana’s sopping fuckhole, the first shots at the deepest pit where you could take it, twitching while you’re trying to save yourself from losing all of it from the first hold. Any second longer inside that lovely heat will have you rethinking your life choices up until this point. 

You pull out, fist tight around your cock when you could see the lower point of your tip, giving an act of generosity firing another shot of cum inside Sana, cock out in the air where Dahyun sees the opportunity to lean in, drinking in the remaining spill that–

Scratch that, it’s not remaining, because you’re cumming everywhere. 

There’s drops of white spilling from the front of her lower lips, pumping out the leaks on the flat of Sana’s stomach. Shit, you even managed to get a few globs on Dahyun’s cheek, even up to Sana’s right tit. It’s all fucked, you almost topple over on top the both of them, the arm serving as a last gasp foothold while the color drains from your face. 

Dahyun pushes you up with both of her hands, staring at you with the splotches of your release slowly sliding down alongside her cheek. She’s taken aback with the load, but what she does with it–

(Well, don’t be surprised. She’s the love of your life for god’s sake.) 

Two fingers skate off some of the cum off her profile, rubbing it on her lips. You draw yourself away while Dahyun helps Sana sit up on the bed, her hand quick to dip under her cunt where she picks up more of your cum that you’ve spilt inside. Sana catches on quick to lick off the cum off of Dahyun’s cheek, tongue sliding across the plane to swallow, the small ‘mms’ and audible smacks of lips colliding. Dahyun just laughs when she examines her palm, placing it underneath her mouth and Sana’s both of them licking the dribble up like two birds in a bath, washed over with sweat and slick and filthy and–

“So fucking gross,” Dahyun says, finger to the arch of Sana’s brow, wiping a wisp of hair off. “Like, are you gonna be so full of yourself–”

“Hey,” Sana tuts, “Don’t get all mad now that I’ve managed to push his buttons better than you.” She then slumps herself over Dahyun’s lap, hand massaging her waist while Dahyun leans back on her palms, crossing one leg up the edge to support her head. They both get secluded in their own little world, whispering these different sayings to each other with a soft smile at one, a scrunched nose to the other. 

You manage to slot yourself to the side, next to Dahyun, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, “I thought this wasn’t a competition over me.” 

The pair simply roll their eyes, Dahyun runs her fingers through Sana’s hair, unconsciously, affectionately. They’re still coming down from all the fucked out clarities while they simply - just - look. Being proven wrong wasn’t that much of a loss in itself; in fact, it was actually inviting when you’re giving them the same confused expression that has the brain questioning everything from the plain existence to whether or not this new reality was even sustainable amongst the three of you. 

“We could all agree to an accord together,” Sana says enthusiastically, “like distinguished human beings- or, something like that.” 

(I mean, there’s a blueprint to draw up for that extra room anyway, but you’ll get to that later.) 

–

It’s during one Saturday morning, when the plates and bowls of today’s breakfast are already in the sink, you have a single carry-on duffel bag in your hand, placed on the highest step of the stairs, taking in that crisp air through your nose. Everything comes to a gentle slope, the clouds are high up in the sky, meshed up together, shielding the landscape from the beaming sun, and the time hasn’t even hit noon yet. 

“I just don’t get it.” you beam, elbows on the railing while your eyes get caught up in a pair of blue jay’s gliding past the street, fascinated by the companionship of nature. Only to have your attention drawn to the awaiting car on the driveway, Dahyun’s personal chauffeur (and to this day you’re still wondering if that person even gets paid or not). “All of this trouble of having a vacation, get reeled back into working, have more time off than expected, but still decide to take up another work order again?” 

Dahyun steps out the doorway, slapping your arm, leaving your face with a small wince that you play off with dead eyes. “I could call Nayeon to put in a word for Momo. If you’re making such a big deal out of it, I might as well tell them myself that I wanted more time off than need be.” 

“You said that it was work related.” you tell her as the counterargument.

“But it’s not!” Sana bursts out, all smiles while you’re walking down the pathway with another bag in your hand onto the asphalt. “Such a buzzkill, as if you didn’t want the whole place to yourself to burn down. You spend wayyyy too much time up in your little office, so consider this to be punishment.” 

“Where did this come from?” you ask, flustered, with arms up trying to play the innocence card. 

Dahyun pulls Sana’s singular luggage from her hand and into the trunk of the car, the bag you were carrying also next to be put before a shut off of the compartment. “We’ve been planning this for sometime, and now we’ve decided to do it. Together.” She pulls up her own passport with an airline ticket shoved in between the pages. You could probably guess where they’re going, judging from the assortment of clothes that they’ve packed, it must be somewhere tropical, like Cancun or in the Bahamas, maybe even Malaysia was on the cards, but you take it with a grain of salt. 

“Is this supposed to be a besties trip that I didn’t even know about until now?” you ask the two girls standing behind the car, leaning back onto the glossy material of the paint job while your arms are bridged between your chest. “I’m also assuming that this is predetermined–” 

“Stop being so analytical.” Sana groans out, “You really have to think twice about what our summer plans were?” 

“Maybe he just needs a few conditions.” Dahyun adds on, nudging Sana’s shoulder to which her face suddenly lights up in excitement. “Besides, he’s really good at reading between the lines, like, you know, he has a good thing for body language - go ahead, test him, I’m sure that he’ll show off like he always does.” 

(It’s how you catch yourself shaking your head downwards to the Earth, hiding the grin that’s breaking on your face because Dahyun knows how well you observe your surroundings. She’s trying to play dumb at the fact that she went ahead to grab your duffel bag while getting the shower ready for yourself. You also notice that Dahyun’s driver got her roughly about ten minutes early to put your bag in the trunk and pretend that nothing ever happened. It’s cute when she gets sneaky and mischievous, because Sana will always buy into what she devises to get you stressed, a migraine pounding through the back of your head, taking it out when you have both of them moaning underneath or straddled on top of you.) 

So you say: “Are there any guarantees to this if I do what you ask?” 

Dahyun puts her passport out in front, shifting her thumb over to show yours underneath. You pretend to be shocked with lifted eyebrows, but you already have them figured out. 

“Honey,” Sana says, blinking with her teeth peering through her smile, “I can guarantee that you've got us both.” 

[ravenelyx]

I need you. - Sebastian Sallow

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader

Words: 1.1k

Chapter Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, kissing, angst and comfort, Sebastian needs to be snuggled, Sebastian is also sad, and Sebastian needs love, neck kissing, cuddling and snuggling, Soft!Sebastian Supremacy, House or gender is not specified, (implied) established relationship, use of 2nd person for the reader

Summary: Sebastian has different ways of dealing with being hurt. One of them is burying his face in your chest while you cuddle him

A/N: IT'S SALLOW SUNDAY and since people seem to like my soft!seb heacanons, I wrote a whole fic instead <3 I woke up feeling snuggly, sooo...

Masterlist

you can find the whole fic on ao3 as well <3

Ominis' version

You didn't even hear his steps, yet when you saw a grimace creep up on Leander's face as he spoke to you, and strong arms wrap around your torso, you knew.

Sebastian left a soft kiss on the top of your head, looking at Leander with a small frown. You thought it must be one of those things only boys understood, because Leander sighed and nodded, without saying a word. Sebastian relaxed against you.

Pair of eyes looked between the two boys, as if expecting a fight to come out of it, but Leander just smiled in acknowledgement. "Sallow." Then his eyes met yours. "I'll see you in class. Don't forget your Leechjuice again."

You rolled your eyes. "It was one time."

Many people mistook it for possessiveness. You knew the real reason for it.

Leander walked away, waving you a goodbye, and Sebastian leaned his head against yours.

"Hi," you whispered with a small smile. He nuzzled your cheek, leaning his weight on your back.

While you never reproached him for showing his touchy side in public, you were starting to feel a little self-conscious of all the curious eyes piercing the two of you, so you turned around in his arms — albeit with great difficulty as his iron grip on you seemed unmovable — and cupped his cheeks.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You swore you saw a few tears collect in his eyes as you spoke, so you walked him backwards to a more secluded bench. He sat down and immediately pulled you onto his lap.

After two years of dating, Sebastian had no more qualms about showing you his need for affection. You were there through it all: when Anne was cursed, when Sebastian desperately tried to find a cure, and even now, when he was diving into a dangerous path with his new friend. He had begun to rely on you, and on something only you could give him.

Security.

You threaded your fingers through his hair, affectionately scratching his scalp, and he let out a soft whine – a whine of pleasure, and a whine of something else. Something sad and guilty and that made him tighten his grip against you and bury his face in your chest.

"He has sent another letter!" he began, running his hands along your back and hips. You learned it was a way for him to reassure himself and calm down. "He told me the if I don't stop, he'll never let me see Anne again!"

Your face softened, hand now cupping the back of his head and pulling him closer. Usually, when Sebastian had a fight with Solomon, he'd retreat in the Undercroft, angry and incensed and ready to burn his own rage to the sound of very loud Confringo's. But there were times when his uncle's words got to him, made his heart sink with the need of a love that was stripped from him. A love he tried to silence by hugging his pillow tight at night when he was young. A love he found in you.

"He won't actually do it. Anne will always be your sister," you reassured him softly. "She'll want to see you, and he can't stop her from that."

He breathed heavily in your chest, pressed his palm under your thighs to pull you further in.

"She doesn't agree with what I'm doing…" He muffled his broken voice in your shirt.

"I know…"

"And she might stop loving me…" he said tearfully.

"She won't." You said earnestly. "She's your twin. In her heart, she knows she'd do the same for you."

He trembled a little, emotions threatening to explode.

"You don't trust Solomon," you began, stroking his hair, "but you can trust me. And you can trust Anne."

He stopped quivering, and you could almost feel the gears turn in his brain at your words. He began to kiss you through your shirt in gratitude.

You thought the position must have been uncomfortable to him, even if he didn't show it, so you slightly pushed his torso back, his face leaving your chest with a displeased frown, and leaned him on the seatback a little, then nestled in his arms, face nuzzling his neck. He sighed in relief as you cuddled against him.

"I know I'm too much sometimes…" he said in a small voice, hiding his face in your hair.

"You're not," you answered immediately. You could see his insecurities start to creep up on him, and you wouldn't have that.

"I annoy you."

"You don't," you protested, looking up at him in concern.

"I always come to you—"

"I'm glad you do."

"—and I'm always too needy."

"I don't see a problem with that."

You sighed and cupped his cheek again, drawing him down to press your mouth to his. It took a small touch for him to ignite, leaning his whole torso over you to deepen the kiss, desperately tugging at your lips. He pulled back with a grimace again when he noticed, and turned away, almost guilty.

"Don't refuse my affection," you whispered.

"I will consume you."

"I'm yours anyway."

He looked back at you, eyes fleeting over the gentle smile on your lips.

"Now come and kiss me a little more."

The battle in his mind seemed to settle immediately, and he lunged forward, placing one hand on the back of your head to keep you in place as his lips feasted on yours. His other arm circled your waist, holding you impossibly tight against him. And he was everywhere — his body caging yours, lips hungrily pulling and biting and bruising, hands desperately kneading your flesh, prising your shirt open to touch your bare skin. You felt dizzy at the force of his affection, and you knew he was right. He would consume you, like a wildfire, an eruption, a cataclysm about to blow your heart in a pulp of blood and passion as his tongue claimed yours. And you'd stop feeling like a person at his touch, so overcome by him you'd lose yourself. And then he'd settle it all right, kissing the blood off your lips with reverence, caressing your bruises gently, putting order into your feelings and reminding you once again that you would do anything for him.

"I need you," he breathed out, dipping his head in the crook of your neck. "Every day…"

You didn't stop him when he sucked a love bite into your skin.

"It's a good thing I feel the same," you chuckled.

"Even if you don't need me as much as I need you—"

"I need you more than you can imagine."

He looked up at you, and you kissed his lips again. This time he was gentle as well.

"Don't stop coming to me. Ever."

He nodded and kissed you again. And again. And again. And again, until Professor Weasley reproached the both of you for inappropriate behaviour and sent you to detention for a week.

And he'd kiss you there, too.

[81folklore]

this is me trying - CL16

pairing: charles leclerc x small!singer!reader (fc: olivia rodrigo)

summary: after a twitter thread was made talking about the struggles you faced in a horrible way, you release a song you wrote with charles to talk about it

authors note: i am in no way saying olivia has struggled with or is dealing with anything mentioned in this story. this song means alot to me as someone who struggles with both addiction and my mental health so if im projecting..no one needs to know😁 i honestly have no clue how this is going to turn out but we will see. anything in bold italics is french

warnings: talks of addiction, depression, anxiety and suicide. alcohol addiction, drugs and self harm are all mentioned. the topics of this is me trying are mentioned, for obvious reasons but in a more personally focused way (if that makes sense). unwarrented hate (?). nothing really goes into detail but just regular warnings, please reach out to someone if you are struggling!!

authors note 2: i had to dust this one off and I HATE IT. its literally my least favorite work ive ever done so please feel free to keep scrolling😭😭 i just kept projecting by accident and it honestly kind of got out of hand. im also SO BAD with my wording so i have no clue if any of it sounds how i wanted it too!!

authors note 3: after reading it over i realised i never actually explained what i was talking about in the song thread so quickly, charles’ and yn split for a short period after yn started shutting him out, she spoke to someone (the stranger) who helped her start to extend the branches back out to charles and they got back together around 11 ish months before the song was released!! the fans never knew why they broke up, there was some speculation but most of it was dropped when they got back toegther

masterlist

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and 2,457 others

good food, yummy people😋

view comments

arthur_leclerc: you mean good people yummy food right?

yourusername: suuure😁

charles_leclerc: beautiful girl

yourusername: love you!!

user7: what is charles doing in the 5th picture😭😭

yourusername: he dropped his airpod😭

user10: girl have you seen twitter…

user75: charles run as fast as you can

user2: there is no way charles knew he’d never be with someone like that💀

user10: what and he’d be with someone like you??

user6: wait what is happening in these comments what happened on twitter?

user7: someone made a thread ‘exposing’ yn but its just a bunch of bullshit that his fans are using because they dont like yn

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 3,562 other

studio time with baeee💋💋

view comments

charles_leclerc: my favorite musician💐

charles_leclerc: i love you so much

yourusername: you mean the world to me charlie

pierregasly: kika wants to know if she can come next time

yourusername: tell her to text me so we can arrange it!!

user73: oh my god new music soon

user64: does this mean charles is on her new music?!

yourusername: maybeee

user64: GIRL DONT TEASE US LIKE THIS

user99: im so sorry about whats happening on twitter you dont deserve that

user2: yes she does

arthur_leclerc: can you tell charles to stop talking about your music when im not allowed to hear it, please🙏

yourusername: sorry arthur!! wanna come for a car ride and listen to it with us??

arthur_leclerc: please please please

user82: yn and charles taking arthur on a car ride to listen to her new song, oh what if i cried😭😭

arthur_leclerc added to their story

seen by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 86,289 others

*text in first picture reads: 🤍🤍* *text in second picture reads: so unbelievably proud of my sister*

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, sebastianvettel and 8,215 others

if you had told me a year ago that not only would i still be here but i would be releasing a song talking about the darkest times of my life with the love of my life by my side i would never have believed you.

throughout the past few months i have revisited times of my life i wish i could have left behind but ive learnt that accepting that this is a part of me now is important in my journey of moving forwards, and in moving forwards ive learnt that my struggles do not define me and i wont be embarrassed by things that have affected me

sometimes i wish i could go back and erase that part of my life, erase the way i felt, erase the way i treated the people i loved the most. but i cant, and i wont let people belittle me for that time anymore

if you have struggled in the past or are struggling today, you are not alone. its a cliche thing to say but i promise you at least one other person will be experiencing the feelings your feeling, you may not know them, you may never know them but you are not alone, you never have been and you never will be

you are not weak for struggling, you are not weak for finding ways to cope, no matter what they may be, you are not weak for shutting people out and you are not weak for reaching out for help, no matter how little you think you need it. you deserve help, no matter how small your problems may seem to you, you are worthy of being safe, you are worthy of being happy

i never thought i would release a song highlighting those times for me, but i wanted anyone whose been through these things to know that i love you and i will always love you; this is me trying out now on all platforms❤️‍🩹

view comments

arthur_leclerc: i am so so proud of you, you deserve all the happiness in the world

charles_leclerc: you mean the world to me, i am so proud of what you have achieved and i will be by your side forever and always

yourusername: charlie i hold so much love for you i feel like i may explode

user55: ive been struggling with an addiction for a while, i cannot express the way this song feels. just, thank you so much

yourusername: im right beind you darling, i believe in you❤️‍🩹

user81: i fear if i listen to this anywhere outside of the comfort of my room i will break down in tears

user93: 🩵🩵

user42: I😭JUST😭WANTED😭YOU😭TO😭KNOW😭THAT😭THIS😭IS😭ME😭TRYING😭

sebastianvettel: im so proud of you yn, come visit with charles soon sweetheart

yourusername: dropping everything and coming right now

lewishamilton: 💜💜

yourusername: hi lewis🤭🤭

user70: YN HELP😭😭 (just like me fr)

charles_leclerc and yourusername added to their stories

seen by pierregasly, sebastianvettel and 2,348,172 others

*text on first photo reads: i hold so much love for you🩷* *text on second photo reads: my bestest friend in the entire universe🩵*

[bobbinlacebliss]

Finished project: Rosemary

I was scrolling through my own blog today (as one does) and realized I never did a proper round-up post for Rosemary. So this is a bit of a retrospective I suppose! Click through for my notes on the project if you're interested - otherwise, I hope you like the pictures!

This is certainly one of my favorite pieces that I've done. I think it really turned out beautifully! But, it also stands out in my mind for having a foul, foul, truly foul number of broken threads that had to be replaced in the middle of the work. I think at least 6? The ideal number of course being zero. At the time, this sucked. I had no idea what I was doing - you can see in one of the pictures that I was referencing three different books at one point trying to figure out how the heck to fix the dang things. But in hindsight, it was valuable experience! I got a lot of practice splicing in new threads, and I also stopped being so afraid of it happening. (Though of course one still likes to avoid it...)

I am not sure why so many threads decided to part company with their fellows, but I have some theories. I'm fairly sure it's not because of putting too much tension on the thread, because it didn't snap under pressure so much as just kinda fray and drift apart. My prime suspect is the bobbins - something about this style of bobbin makes it really hard (for me, at least) to prevent them rolling wildly all over the pillow during the work, which runs the risk of untwisting the thread. This is very sad for me because I love these bobbins. But I haven't given up hope that I can still make them work. They seem to roll less on my box pillow, so maybe they can just be reserved for that pillow. Also, I'm on that "it was a bad batch of thread" copium 😅

This was also the first time I tried mounting the finished lace onto fabric, which I was very worried about screwing up but it wound up not being so bad! Sewing is definitely not my strong suit, but I got through it and am pleased with the result.

Technical Notes

Pattern: "Rosemary" from A Visual Introduction to Bucks Point Lace by Geraldine Stott

Thread: Egyptian cotton 80/2 in bright white

Gimps: 8 ply of the base thread

Pins: .5 mm pins for the picots and motifs; .8mm pins for the ground and footside

Picots: 5 twists

Started: September 14, 2020

Completed: August 11, 2021

(If you've made it this far and you somehow haven't heard enough about this project, you can check out the "rosemary" tag on my blog to see my other posts about it.)

[eveningepiphany]

tease | H.S oneshot

summary: seeing harry tonguing his guitar last night has you finally admitting the state he puts you in. and that’s never good when you’re a tour photographer. especially now you have photographic evidence of the moment.

warnings: SMUT, oral (fem rec), dirty talk, praise, swearing

a/n: can’t stop thinking about that fucking video? like it’s on loop in my head I can’t. he was so slutty last night it’s illegal. also this isn’t 100% proofread so enjoy I hope it’s okay!

———

Some days at work are harder than others for you.

Today, you knew was going to be rough the second Harry walked out in single-handedly the most revealing outfit he could have. Borderlining absolutely slutty.

And as his tour photographer, that is quite a bold statement to make when you’ve seen every single outfit— and when his top half is often found shirtless up on stage.

But tonight, out backstage when you were prepping your SD cards and ordering your camera lenses, he walked out of his dressing room adorning his stage outfit to show you, and your stomach dropped the sight of him.

It was a new style, something he hadn’t worn before. A cropped, tasseled blue vest, paired with low rise pants that looked like they were clinging onto his hips for dear life.

“Alrighty, what d’ya think?” He asked, doing a little spin to shake the tassels.

Your mouth opened and words struggled to form as your head fogged over from just seeing his body. And the way his ferns were fully out— along with almost all of his other ink on display. Arms, chest and all.

You had sworn this, many times, was just your eye for art. For people like him who made photography electric. But as time and the tour progressed on from its earlier start in 2021, it was getting harder to convince yourself. Because even if you didn’t acknowledge it, there was no way to justify the heat that stirred in your stomach as just admiration.

“Oh— wow— I like the tassels,” you paused, tongue swiping over your lips, “they’ll be really fun in the photos, I’ll try to get some motion blur type shots with them.”

Your hand reached out before your brain even computed what it was doing, grabbing one of the rhinestoned threads at the base of his vest and running down it. Knuckles brushing the side of his chest.

“Excited to see them as always, m’lovely.” He smiles, the pet name making you flush.

“10 minutes till you’re on, H!” Someone called out.

You laughed at the panicked expression on his face as he realised he was probably dawdling, and in fact behind on his own schedule.

“Alright!” He confirmed back, then chuckling as he whispered to you, “I still gotta brush m’teeth.”

“Well, cmon let’s go, I’ll see what behind the scene shots I can get.”

And you thought that the time spent with him pre-show would ease your racing mind a little, but now that you’re out on the floor you’re almost jittering.

He looks fucking delectable. And by the sound of the stadium around you, they notice it too.

As he steps out you have to force your camera up to your face, which is something you never have to do? But looking at him through your viewfinder is hardly enough to satiate you.

Especially a little later in the show, when your camera is aimed to the back of him— and he’s squated down to get a drink of water…

His pants slipping so far down his hips that the waistband of his Calvin Kleins are easily visible.

Some girls on barricade behind you are going feral simply at the sight. And you can hardly blame them, because the sight of them makes you a little light headed too. Tonight he’s really not leaving much to the imagination.

You feel obliged to take a photo of it, lens aiming up to him— hearing the girls from behind you as your cameras shutters open to capture the moment. They’re shouting clearly, “Y/N, you get that pic girl!”

Another one yelling from your left, “SHES ONE OF US!”

You laugh at them. The fans are always an amazing part of the show. You leave with an array of adorable bracelets, funny shirts, and always lovely compliments.

You snap a few more photos before someone calls your name again, and you turn. A brunette girl, in an incredible replica of his recent purple and black heart overalls from the recent Wembley show, is standing.

“Y/N!” She reaffirms when you’re looking at her.

“Hi lovely, your outfit is amazing.” You smile, and she has fresh tears streaming down her face— a common love on tour occurrence.

“Ohmygod, thank you so much. I made you this tshirt, i wanted to give it to you!” She pulled a white shirt from her feet, presumably from a bag.

She held it out, unfolding it to show off the print on the front.

You immediately couldn’t help but let out a shocked laugh at it. A big pink shaded heart, with 2 also heart-shaped photos on each side of it— of you and Harry. But the best bit was the bubble written font, “my favourite parents!” that is above it.

“I— can I please take a photo of you with it first.”

She slaps a hand over her mouth, “No way, of course you fucking can.”

You take a few photos of her posing with the shirt, “I have 2, please feel free take them both!”

You can only assume one of them is intended for Harry. And even if it’s a little weird of you to take them, you do anyway because the girl was too lovely to even consider denying them.

“Thank you so much.” You chuckle as you hang them over your elbow. She still looks starstruck at the interaction that just occurred and you’re overly excited to edit the photos later on.

In the time of the short interaction, you turned to find Harry. He’s about to transition into she, and is over on the main stage.

You hustle to get yourself up from the floor and onto the stage area. Moving to chuck the shirts on the bench, where most of the bands essentials are for easy access.

Harry sees you over there and you decide to show him the design on the front before you can overthink it.

He’s beginning to sing the intro, and he chuckles the lyrics into the mic as he sees it. And fans around the whole arena scream at the shirt— which you didn’t realise was being displayed on the big screens.

You shake your head, struggling not to admire the tone of his laugh that just echoed around the stadium.

Also blushing a little at the fact you did genuinely just show him a shirt with both of your faces of it, deeming you both as a fans ‘parents’.

You go back to doing your actual job, moving to get a good angle, aiming to blend back into the background as you take more photos for the night.

Capturing the sway and jolts of his tassels as he sings. Getting a few shots that not only capture his energy but also his outfit perfectly.

You smile at yourself and at your work.

And you glance up as Harry joins in with Mitch while he absolutely shreds his guitar solo.

Sweat is beading on Harry’s chest and you’re all too aware how much money people would pay to see it from your angle. Thank god for Barcelona’s heat.

And, fuck, not only is it that. His arms look perfect as well. This outfit is really just showing as much of himself off as possible.

You change the settings on your camera hastily to alter the outcome of these next few shots.

He’d stepped away from the mic, turning to look at the band, mouthing something you couldn’t decipher.

He starts to lean down head getting closer to guitar. His tongue juts out…

Your eyes immediately pull back a little from your camera because, there no fucking way he’s about to let some kind of intrusive thought win here.

Time seems to slow. But not the movement of his tongue. It’s flicking fast, as if to mimic it playing the strings of his guitar. Or something like that anyway, because all you can think of is… well… something too inappropriate to even be entertaining in your head given he’s literally your boss.

You can hear the piercing screams around you, someone in the front shouting what the fuck loud enough you swear someone in the back of the stadium could’ve heard it.

You’re not even aware you bought your camera back up to your face and that you’d clicked the button a few times until it’s done and the moments over.

Harry’s laughing at himself, and Sarah is face palming at his lewd action. His smug smile after solidifies the fact he knows what the fuck he just did. And exactly the kind of effect it’s left on some people.

Just not aware you’re one of them…

Because you can’t deny the way you spent rest of the night with a nagging warmth between your legs. One that festered long after the moment was over.

After the show came to a close and you eventually ended up in your hotel room, freshly showered as you edited some of your favourite photos. Including the shots you’d captured of him and his guitar.

Which were fucking insane. You had just the right amount of contrast going on in them, and a certain degree of motion blur that indicated the movement his tongue was making.

The final product was amazing once you had edited it on photoshop. But you spent the remainder of the night in your hotel room ridiculously worked up. Left in bed toying with your clit lazily as you stared at the celling, acting like you didn’t have a specific person in your thoughts.

It got to the point in the next day where you stressed about what photos to show him. And whether or not that included the one you literally came to the thought of last night?

Usually you wouldn’t hesitate, especially since it looked incredible. But you were embarrassed internally. What would he think, or say? And could you even play off your sheer attraction to the image.

You placed your head in your hands with a groan, sat in the chair over by the window. You’re tired, and swear on your life your decision making is going to be impaired when he walks into your room.

Which you didn’t have much more time to stress much about it as a knock came to your door that you knew was him.

You rushed over to open it, finding him standing there, hair freshly washed and clad in much more clothing then you last saw him in. A plain white shirt and some gym shorts— that still made him look hot as fuck, without even trying?

He greets you with a good morning, voice a tad hoarse from last nights show. And he’s smiling as he hands you a cup, one you know is filled with hot chocolate. Just for you.

“I owe you like 100 hot chocolates for how many you’ve bought me just in this leg of the tour alone.” You laugh, letting him past you.

He glances at the unmade bed— you stopped making it a while after he started to come visit your room the morning after the show to pick which photos he liked best, and ones he also wanted edited. Sometimes he’d settle himself on it, legs crossed like a cute little kid.

“Think of it as a gift for all your talent. And putting up with me.” He chuckles, and plops himself down on the chair that’s opposite to the one you were sitting in.

So you follow suit, walking back over the your chair. Taking a small sip of the sweet liquid in your hands.

“Have any favourites so far?” He asks, taking a quick swig of his own drink— which you can only assume is hot tea.

Yes, you think, the one where you’re about to practically fuck your guitar strings with your tongue.

You substitute that for, “A few! The tassels were so fun to try and capture.”

You rotated the laptop screen to show him a cool shot you edited of him. It was a front on photo, his arms extended and washboard abs in their full fucking glory along with his tattoos.

He nods, a smile coming across his lips, crinkling the corners of his slightly tired eyes.

You showcase him a couple, all that he gives relentless praise on— regardless of if they had been edited or not. But you just want to show him your favourite.

You swallow as you stare at it on the screen of your macbook. Working up the courage to turn the screen to him as he waits cluelessly. Does he even know you took this?

“This one too…” you hesitate a little as you swivel the laptop around on your lap.

“Oh. I like this one a lot.” He says, nodding and then glancing up from the screen to your semi-flushed face.

“Didn’t know you took that.” He chuckles, shrugging and almost seeming… like he has more to say about this situation.

Like something is laying on the tip of his tongue, just waiting to be said.

You think he’s not going to though, after a beat of silence, you nod.

“Yea… what actually are you doing in this photo?” You nervous laugh, and wonder what kind of answer he’s going to provide.

He runs a hand through his curls, brows raised a little at your question.

“What did you think I was doing?” He quizzes, the corner of his mouth turning up.

“I- well it looked quite… everyone in the audience was going wild. Were you trying to be a tease?”

“I wasn’t! I swear. I was playing the guitar.” He confirmed, yet smirking like he knew there was a two-way perception of the event.

“With your tongue?” You sighed out a laugh.

“You still didn’t answer me. What did you think I was doing?” He backtracks, eyes watching you intensely as you’re both entering some rather dangerous, untouched territory.

You’re quiet again, and he raises his brows still expecting a response.

You flush under his gaze, hand coming to cover your eyes. “It just looked very…”

“Very…?”

“Inappropriate.” You laughed, feeling like you were emotionally torturing yourself by letting this situation happen.

“How so?” He continues to push, wanting to hear more. Secretly adoring the way you get all flustered about it. How badly he wants you to tell him exactly what the movement of his tongue reminded you of.

“It just— you know what I mean, Harry!” You say, now being the one trying to backtrack out of this entire situation. That in the end is still technically your own fault.

You distract yourself with other photos, going in and trying to find another possible contender for his new post on instagram.

“Don’t try and avoid the conversation, love.” He chuckles at your sudden shy demeanour.

“Harry.” You place your hand over your face again trying to mentally reset yourself. Put your thinking back in line.

“Cmon! I’m just curious.” He tries to brush it off, but if he has to resort to begging, he honestly wouldn’t hesitate.

“I know you are, but— it’s weird!” You whine, wanting to die at the fact you had let this happen in the first place.

“I promise I won’t judge.” He places his hand over his heart, face serious, like he was swearing it on his bloodline.

You thought about it a little longer. He clearly was not going to leave you alone if he didn’t get an answer. You could try and lie, but he already knows anyway. He just wants to hear you say it.

“You know, Harry. You just want to hear me say it.” You murmur, bringing up the chocolaty drink to your lips to distract yourself.

“Sure, maybe I do. I wanna confirm my suspicions.” He proposes, a small shrug of his shoulders. You place the drink back on the coaster, staring at him. Eventually caving.

“It— everyone definitely thought it looked like you were, uh, giving oral.” You rushed out, trying to now act as nonchalant as possible to avoid further questioning.

I didn’t work.

“So everyone including you?” He asked.

“Well… yea.” Your cheeks were pink, and he smiled at your flustered voice.

“Dirty thing.” He chuckled, and you almost breathed a sigh of relief thinking maybe you could move on and pretend as if this never happened, but he continues on.

“Had you a little worked up, did I?”

“May I touch on how unprofessional this conversation is?” You bring up, trying to save yourself. But it’s evident in your voice you hardly mean it. You are admittedly a little curious as to where he’s going with this. Equally, if not more embarrassed than anything, but still curious.

“I suppose you can, yes.” He nods.

“But may I bring up how you undressing me with your eyes yesterday was unprofessional? Because unless I’m insane, you definitely were.” He’s cocky, and overconfident with his accusation.

Not that it can be really labelled as an accusation, given he’s not wrong at all.

“I—“ you swallow, “Okay. Whatever. Point proven.”

He laughs at your surrender, shuffling forward on the chair.

“So you were— that’s the kind of stuff you were thinking about me?” He rests his elbows on his knees, watching you intently.

“You are really trying to get something out of me aren’t you? What do you want to hear me say?” You raise your brows, adrenaline coursing through you.

“Just want you to tell me the truth. Be honest with me, since we’re talking about being professional. I think that’s a good start.” He sounds so gentle yet firm, and your devouring this dominant kind of trait he’s showing you.

“Communication and honesty is very important when it comes to professionalism.”

Pleasure has been simmering in your stomach since he walked through the door, and his persistence is beginning to pay off, since you’re starting to let your guard down.

“So you want me to tell you how wet I got after your little stunt last night? That if I wasn’t your employee, after the show you would have found me in your dressing room bent over on the table.”

“Waiting for you to come in there, all sweaty and ready to strip that teeny fucking vest off, and put your mouth to use.”

He’s got a dusting of red over his own cheeks now, blood rushing to his cock as he realised he cracked you open now. Your dirty words spilling out of your mouth after holding back seemingly since last night.

“That what you would’ve done? Bent yourself over my dressing room table waiting for me like a pretty little post-show gift?”

“Maybe so.” You feed into it, watching as his eyes darken with desire.

He sighs out, standing up promptly, “Alright, darling. I’m gonna offer you something. You don’t have to agree, but if you do we can stop at any time. Okay?”

“What exactly are you offering?” You ask as leans his tall frame down to you, hands bracketed on your hips.

“For me to pick you up, put you on that bed and strip you until I can bury my head between your legs.” He stated, matter of factly.

Your thighs are shaking so hard you’re clenching them together— clit throbbing at the pressure.

You can only look up at him and nod, to which he doesn’t take as an answer.

“Baby, need you to use your words. Tell me what you want.”

“Yes, Harry. Want that please.” You whine, very quickly becoming delusional at his close proximity.

He grunts as he picks you up, his arms firm around your body and he carry’s you the few feet to the bed. His lips hot as they suddenly come in contact with your jaw.

He pushes your legs open with his thigh, making you moan and push your hips forward.

“Needy girl.” He whispers, voice dirty and hot near your ear as he sucks on the skin below it.

His hands cascade down your body, finding the waistband of your sweatpants and tugging it down.

“Please, please touch me.” You’re wild, bucking your hips up. Wanting to get his tongue on you so bad.

He chuckles at your sudden spiral, how quickly you’ve unravelled before him. Truly like a present, all laid out waiting just for him.

He palms his hand over your damp front, “Soaking through already, fuckin’ hell.”

You groan as he rubs a pressured circle on your fabric-covered clit.

“Want to tell me who got you so wet?” He coos, slowly moving his fingers over you as he waits for an answer.

You give it to him shamelessly, “You. Want you so badly.”

He’s over the moon to finally have you like this. Because it became apparent rather quickly the crush he’d developed on you since you were hired. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t fucked his fist at the thought of getting to touch you.

“Oh, you’re being so good for me now. Because I’ve got my hand between your pretty legs I bet.”

You cant even respond as he slides your drenched underwear down away from your tingling core.

He audibly groans at the sight of your bare, glistening pussy. Watching as you squirm under his stare.

“Jesus fuck, Y/N. How long have you been hiding this gorgeous cunt from me?”

“Too long.” You whimper.

His fingers slid through you, and he gathered up your arousal to play with your clit. Relishing the way it slides under his fingertips.

You were clenching around nothing as he gently rolled your clit between calloused fingers. Playing with it until you were a mess. Moaning and grinding up against his fingers. Begging for what he’d promised earlier.

“Your mouth, Harry. Need it. Anywhere.”

“S’that why your little hole is clenching so hard? Like it’s begging for me.” He watched, mesmerised as your hole pulsed around nothing, and leaked more clear arousal.

You look so delicious to him. And he took a moment to appreciate the fact you were about to let him clean up all that arousal pooling at your hole

He sunk down between your legs very slowly. Distracting himself a few times with mouthing over your fabric covered breasts.

Eventually making it there, so he could blow over your clit, letting you squirm at the teasing stimulation. You smelt amazing too, your sweet tangy scent making his mouth water.

He was grabbing at his cock, pushing at it trying to relieve pressure down there as he peppered kisses along your inner thigh.

“Stop teasing, H. Please I— fuck.” You hissed as he bit the seam of skin of your thigh.

“Cant handle it huh? Are you gonna come before I even get my tongue on you.”

“Want to finish around your mouth.” You plead with him. And he shakes his head with a laugh, anticipating your reaction as he leans forward to drag a long stroke through your slit.

Your whole body shakes with a moan. His velvety, hot tongue immediately leaving you a wreck.

“Harryyy…” You cry out, bucking your hips into his face.

“Gonna ruin your cunt, darling.” He murmurs into you, and you know it’s true with the way your hole is clenching.

He sucks your clit into his mouth before placing fast strokes over it. Flicking and rolling it between his tongue and lips.

The sounds of him lapping up your pussy are echoing through the room, further fuelling the fire that’s started in you.

Your whole jaw goes lax as he moves further down, gliding over your hole— pushing his tongue past your entrance.

“Fuck!” You moan, hips jolting, causing his hands to slide up and hold them into place.

He slides it into you as far as he can, nose bumping your clit. Making you realise very quickly that you’re going to finish around his mouth.

He moans into you, again the vibrations makes you writhe in his tight grip. “I- Harry- more!”

It’s making your whole body shake, and he’s pressed so far into you that it’s all you can feel. And it’s obvious that you’re about to come, just with the way your cunt is pulsing around his mouth.

“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck. Harry, please, I’m gonna come!” You felt the burning spark fly through you, hitting you like a truck when his tongue curled and rocked inside you.

He’s humming and pressing himself so close you genuinely think he can’t breathe. And you realise immediately when the rubber band in snapped inside of you.

It gushed through your whole body, making you moan and cry in his grip. He couldn’t even explain the feeling of having you clenching around his tongue. It almost made him finish in his pants.

He lapped up every single drop he could. But he didn’t stop.

Your clit was so sensitive as he came back up to it with the same intensive pace.

You tried to push him off, “be a good girl, baby, give me another one.”

“So sensitive, Harry.” You whined, hand threading into his soft hair.

“Y’can take it.” He states, going back to sucking on your clit, and the outside of your entrance.

It made you a mess. A proper fucking mess.

You legs were being spread wide by the palm of his hands, and you were almost crying at how sensitive your pussy was.

You were always a five-minute-scroll-break kind of girl when it came to masturbation. So this came as a whole shock to your body. And it was so fucking hot from his perspective.

All he could hear was your filthy fucking whines, begging him one minute to stop and the next to go faster. And he was going insane at how sensitive your little hole was.

That was all he could feel. The clenching of your cunt, the absolute shaking mess your body was becoming.

His tongue flicked over your clit, just as you imagined he would after seeing him last night. And it was getting to messy, your arousal absolutely coating his mouth and chin.

“I-“ a deep suck of your clit, “I’m gonna fucking come!”

You writhed the whole way through your orgasm. Fucking into his face like it was a toy, grinding into it so hard your sure he was completely consumed by you.

And as you came down from the high, still shaking, he cleaned up down there again. Too good to waste, was his thought process. ‘You tasted like a dream’ you’re pretty sure you hear him mutter against you at some point.

His thumbs run over the dips of your hips to bring you back down to earth.

“Good girl, Baby. Took my mouth so fucking well.” He presses a final kiss on your clit as he stood up, your hands dragging up his back did.

“Feeling a little better too, i hope.”

“Yes. So good. H.” You panted, still in a bit of a daze.

“Next time,” he peppered a kiss on you shoulder, “tell me when you’re feeling all worked up okay.”

You nodded, hands sliding to rest in his hair.

“Or by all means, lay yourself out in my dressing room so I can make make come like you deserve.” He smiles at your little nod, still so out of it.

“My little gift, hm?” He coos, stroking a gentle hand down your face.

And he knows he’d do this moment a thousand times over with you. Just to see that smile flash over your lips.

———

[inkdrinkerworld]

Stitches, Films and Sponges Baths?

Cw: fluff, shy!team doctor!reader, Dick being a flirty shit

“Nightwing B-01, injured.” Calls the electronic voice through the comms and you get moving immediately.

“How bad is it?” You ask as you snap gloves on and reach for your kit.

“Bad enough that I’ll miss seeing your concentrated face, angel.” Dick flirts and you suck at your teeth.

The moment he comes into view, you realise that as much as he flirts he hadn’t been lying.

He’s cut under his eye, there’s another on his bicep and a tear in the side of his suit.

“Who did you lose a fight to?” That gets him to open his eyes and he spots a slight frown on your lips.

“I didn’t lose, I’m just a little more cut up than you’re used to seeing me.” You clean up his face first and your frown smooths out when you realise it's more blood than wound.

“This one isn’t too bad, maybe a butterfly stitch if you really want one. It should close within the day.”

Dick reaches for your gloved hand, “Put the stitch please, angel? Don’t want you having to stare at that cut every time you look at me;” he smiles and as if he’s reconsidered his statement he adds. “Unless it makes me look rugged and even hotter.”

Your body flushes, heat rushing through you and you nibble on your lip as you set the stitch on his cheekbone.

“You look fine, can you open your eyes now?”

He does, “Missed seeing them, did you?”

“Dick,” it’s only a warning, but he likes when you say his name so it’s one he elects to ignore- on the basis of the fact that if he does, you’re going to fluster even more. And he likes that even more.

“Your bicep isn’t too bad, just a scratch really. I’m more worried about your side, so I’m going to look at that first.”

His arms reach up for you to undress him and Dick bites his tongue to keep his smile at bay when your eyes widen and your fingers drag up his stomach as you lift off the top of his suit.

You wonder if he can tell that your pulse is rioting now?

He’s always been pretty, flirty and overly friendly to you and you’ve never known where to put all that.

Dick is gorgeous, he’s been gorgeous from the moment you’d been recruited here from the Bat, but he’s also never been by himself since you’ve been here- a little bit of a relationship man and while you’d love to pursue that, you don’t know if your poor heart will handle his flirty unleashed.

“It’s not so bad, just a little jagged so the stitching is going to hurt a bit. I’m sorry.”

Dick tuts, his heart clenching at how considerate you are- then he wonders if that’s just your bedside manner.

“No need for that, I can take a little pain.”

You nod, and get started with your needles and thread, closing up Dick’s wound with a steady hand.

“These are dissolvable, but they can still rip if you aren’t careful so you’re on bed rest until they dissolve.”

“How long will that take, angel? Trying to plan how many days I have with you.”

You clench your jaw to stop your smile, but Dick takes note of the way that your eyebrows jump and your eyes crinkle with little crow’s feet.

“A week or two for the most, but you can’t go around training like usual until they dissolve.”

He nods, “So what do you say to movie nights and reading challenges all week?”

You do let yourself smile then, Dick’s proposed things you like that he doesn’t necessarily find that mind blowing.

“And what will you do?” You ask, a vote of confidence to play along with his tease.

“Probably work on some tech stuff, but we’ll at least be together so you can have all the time in the world just staring at me till you’re ready to make a move.”

You grumble and scrub your face making Dick chuckle.

“That was mean, I’m sorry angel.” He coos and you look up to find him still smirking.

“Mhm, I totally believe you,” you finish his stitch and cover it with a piece of gauze and medical tape. “I don’t think I’ll be able to spend the entire week with you Grayson. I’ve got class.”

His eyebrows jump, “Class? Did you start a new programme?”

You nod, “Behavioral analysis.” Dick smiles, a little wicked at the confession. You move to his bicep, cleaning up the blood to find three claw-like marks tearing through his skin.

“Do you need real life case studies? I’ll be happy to help you out. You can analyse my behaviour when I’m with you.”

Your belly heats, and you’re sure the way you fluster is evident to Dick and that makes you feel even more bashful.

It’s clear he does feel a little bad about how flushed he’s making you when you feel his hand reach up to your cheek.

“I’ll stop for a little, angel. Don’t want you to pass out from all the heat you’re pushing out.”

“Dick!” You whine and he laughs, a full belly laugh that makes your frown turn to a small smile. “You’re the worst.”

You finish cleaning and dressing the scratches on his bicep, they only needed a few stitches on one of them.

“Oh am I?” He coos and you grumble, biting your lip to stop from swearing at him. “Okay okay, I’ll really stop now.” He promises; you look up at him through your lashes as you pull away from his hand and start cleaning up.

“Wanna watch a film with me?” He asks as you finish cleaning, his body suddenly tired now that he’s not worried about flirting and teasing you.

“One of your black and white French films?” It’s his turn to flush a little, clearly not expecting anyone to notice his choice in movies. “You always leave the disk in, and I don’t think anyone else is watching espionage French films except you.” You explain with a little smile.

“Maybe not a French one, we can do Russian or Spanish- I know you watch those.”

You shrug, “We can trade off, one French, one Spanish.”

Dick nods, groaning as he stands. His hand pressed tight to his side. “Why don’t you choose first, angel. Gonna get Alfred to sponge me off,” he pauses at the door, a mischievous smirk on his lips as he turns back to you. “Unless you want to do it, which I have zero objections to.”

“Go get your sponge bath Grayson, I’ll be in the media room.”

[boxboxlewis]

Daniel finds out about Max’s divorce from a Google alert.

“FORMER F1 CHAMPION NEWLY SINGLE, SEEN HITTING THE BARS IN MONACO.” Journalistic excellence from the Daily Mail, as always. But when actual newspapers start reporting on it, Daniel decides to reach out. He texts Max a cat meme. Subtext: sorry about your failed relationship, also I know you like cats. Max texts back Are you trying to cheer me up, and then 😂. It’s unclear if he’s 😂 at the cat or the notion of Daniel attempting to comfort. While Daniel is trying to figure this out a third text comes in. Stop reading stupid shit by dumb assholes who don’t know anything.

Nah it’s all good, I can’t read, Daniel replies. He hesitates, and then adds I am like. Sorry about stuff with kelly or whatever though.

Max thumbs-up reacts the message, and doesn’t reply.

Daniel figures Max’ll probably just start dating another exquisitely beautiful, exquisitely groomed woman with a disconcerting resemblance to his own mother. They’re ten a penny in Monaco, where Max still for some reason lives. 

He’s not prepared for the next tranche of articles his Google Alert brings him. “MAX VERSTAPPEN SEEN LEAVING GAY BAR.” “VERSTAPPEN REFUSES TO ADDRESS RUMOURS.” “VETTEL COMES TO VERSTAPPEN’S DEFENCE: ‘HE HAS A RIGHT TO A PRIVATE LIFE.’” Like… people go to gay bars sometimes, even if they’re straight. But do straight people let Seb Vettel defend their honour in the media?

Daniel opens his text thread with Max and types Hey, are you. You know. 

He deletes it, obviously. He’s got a lot going on in his own life. Brand ambassadorships out the ass, his film production company, his vineyard. He sends Max another dumb meme and calls it good. Max is just doing Max stuff. It’s some belated F1 champion rumspringa, probably, because when he was an actual teenager he was psychotically focussed on racing. He’ll settle down soon enough.

Daniel really isn’t expecting him to announce live on Dutch television that he has a boyfriend. The clip is in Dutch, obviously, but someone has added English captions, and Daniel watches over and over again. RIP his YouTube algorithm. It’s some daytime talk show, the kind of thing Max hates, the kind of thing he’d never do unless someone was twisting his arm about it. The host asks all sickly sweet if there’s a special someone in Max’s life. Max says, “Well yes of course there is my boyfriend.” The “of course” in Dutch sounds like naturally. Naturally, naturally. “And my family I am very close to, as well.” The camera dwells with voyeuristic glee on the talkshow host’s face as she tries and fails to pick her expression up from the floor. “Your boyfriend?” she manages. Max nods, impatient. Daniel rewinds the clip. Your boyfriend? Your boyfriend? Your boyfriend?

Daniel decides to visit Monaco. Not because of Max. It’s summer and the swing of the season is funnelling him that way, that’s all, towards the parties and the glittering people dancing on yachts, getting high, bright and beautiful, living that good life. He doesn’t have an apartment there anymore, but Max does, because Max never left: still has his custom penthouse with its views of the harbour. Unless—it’s a weird thought—unless Kelly kept it in the divorce. But when he texts Max to invite himself to stay, Max doesn’t mention anything about a new address. 

Max also doesn’t sound, like, super enthused, but that’s just how he is. It’s his natural Dutchness, most likely. Fine you can come then. You are lucky I don’t have plans is probably just the Dutch way of saying “Yeah sounds great, looking forward to reconnecting.” You are very annoying is probably how people from the Netherlands express affection. Daniel texts back Love you too my brother 🤘🤘

He gets his hair touched up before he goes, a little bit of tattooing at the roots in the front. He does a spray tan, and gets his face dermaplaned (not in that order). You can’t go to Monaco and not look good, that's all.

It always feels kind of weird, flying into Nice in a non-F1 context, first class instead of private, but Daniel fits, still: gets asked for his autograph at the airport, and then on the concourse, and when he stops to put petrol in his rental car (a sweet little Porsche, nice). He tosses his keys to the valet at Max’s building and the valet goggles. That’s right, baby: twelve-time Grand Prix winner Daniel Ricciardo is in town. Daniel winks and the valet turns gratifyingly mauve.

Max, when Daniel pushes into his apartment, is less enthusiastic. “Daniel. I really do not know why you’ve come.”

Daniel ignores him in favour of crouching down, trying to pet Jimmy or Sassy. “Hey, little guy,” he croons. “Or girl. What’s up? Do you remember Uncle Danny? Am I in town to show your daddy a good time? Yeah I am! That’s right. That’s right.” Jimmy or Sassy scowls at him and swipes with one needle-tipped paw. All right, drama queen. Daniel stands back up and grins at Max. “I mean, mostly I wanted to meet your boyfriend,” he says, for some reason. What the fuck, Ricciardo. He keeps grinning, styles it out. “Gotta give him the old shovel speech, right?”

Max is doing the blank-eyed stare Daniel remembers so well from their racing days. It’s wildly disconcerting coming from this Max, who looks. Different, that’s all. He’s thick, still fit and well-muscled but heavy with it now, t-shirt stretched over the layer of hard fat covering his abdomen, face softer. He’s a bear of a man, he could—he could do lots of things, obviously. It’s fine. It’s just that part of Daniel still expects him to be the gawky teenager Daniel loomed over.

Max says, “What do you want to say to my boyfriend about shovels,” and for a bewildering moment Daniel has no idea what he’s talking about. 

“Oh, no, it’s like—it’s a saying, or whatever, when someone starts dating someone. I mean, usually dads say it, I guess, but like—the idea is if he mistreats you I’ll…” Daniel trails off as he realises he’s not actually sure what “shovel speech” means. “Uh, hit him with a shovel? Or I guess potentially, like, use it to bury his corpse. Whiiiich is a joke! Not actually going to bury anyone.” No, weird comment, Daniel’s not actually going to bury anyone t-shirt is raising a lot of questions et cetera. Hastily, he adds “As long as he behaves!” and then stands there mentally kicking himself while Jimmy/Sassy yowls soulfully near his ankles. He's never like this, he never loses control of a conversation like this. It's agonising.

Max stares at him for a long moment, and then cracks up. “Daniel, you are still so weird,” he says. It sounds kind of affectionate. 

“You know it, baby,” Daniel says. “So, where’s the boyf?

Max’s cheeks go a little red, it looks like. Maybe Daniel’s imagining it. “Ricardo is at the gym,” he says.

Daniel has to have misheard that. “Sorry, what’s this dude’s name?”

“Ricardo,” Max says grumpily. “My boyfriend.”

“Right, yeah, of course.” Once again Daniel decides, against his better judgement, to style it out. “Uh, is he Australian, by any chance? And devastatingly charismatic?”

Max sighs, as if Daniel is being really annoying. “He is from Melbourne. And yeah, he is okay I think. Maybe you won’t like him though, because you like always to be the funniest one. Come on, I will show you to your guest room.”

Daniel manages a casual-sounding, “Haha, you got me.” They’re walking through the apartment, now, Max leading the way. For a moment Daniel just watches the sunburned back of his neck.

[yazmarina]

super trouper

for hit play, a drabble event.

—"part of a success that never ends, still i'm thinking about you only " (super trouper by abba)

charles leclerc (f1) x afab!reader

warnings/notes: exes to ?, hint of second chance romance

a/n: short and sweet on my return. i hope all the charles girlies and non-girlies like this <3

You really shouldn't be here. You had no reason to turn up at this race weekend, save for the fact that your friend was also going and she urged you to go for her sake.

Right. You're doing this for her. No one else. Certainly not for the hometown hero.

His face is everywhere and so are the eyes that seem to gape at you. People's eyes follow you with curiosity, double takes and soft gasps when they realize who you are.

It takes all your self-control not to roll your eyes under the heat of their stares. Are they not aware that I live literally a bus ride away? I spend half of my time in Monaco, anyway. Why is everyone freaked out that I'm here?

You can already read the gossip headlines in your mind.

"Do you want to grab some lunch first?" Your friend asks, gesturing to the huge hospitality building that overlooked the pitlane.

You nod, wanting nothing more than to be indoors and away from prying eyes. "Sure."

The two of you make your way inside and you're relieved to see that people are sparse here, not a single one of them giving you any mind. You settle in a booth at the very end of the floor, letting your friend have a go first at the buffet of food laid out.

You idle with your phone for a bit, already seeing your inbox count tick upward. You've been here for an hour and it seems as if the whole paddock has already seen you.

You lock your phone in frustration.

You really shouldn't have come. Not when the breakup barely six months ago was shrouded in so much speculation and drama. It's not as if your relationship with Charles exploded into a world-stopping mess. It just slowly but surely crumbled, all the gossip chipping away at the love you once shared. You know all this was part of it—the dedicated pages to scrutinizing you, your looks, your behavior, the news about you and your ex still coming out half a year after you split, the constant barrage of questions about Charles, Charles, always about Charles.

But it was indeed always about Charles.

Even you being here, in Monte Carlo today, was about him.

You promised you'd see him race at home when you were still together. It wasn't your fault the relationship would be that short-lived.

But, still. You promised.

You unlock your phone once more, opening up the message thread you had with Charles. The last text was from him, asking if you'd be in France this week. You never answered back.

'Hi Charles.'

You cringe at the formality but with a deep breath, you continue to type.

'Yes, I'm still here. I'll be watching today with a friend. Wishing you all the luck :)'

-

The grip you had on your seat could have been enough to crush someone's hand.

The wide-screen TV in hospitality flashed the bright red Ferrari of your ex-boyfriend, leading the race, five laps away from victory. A victory at his home race, with his dream team, his people cheering him on.

Your heart hammers against your chest and you feel rigid all over, nerves and anticipation taking ahold of you. Your friend looks over and you meet her eyes, and you know at that moment what she's thinking. She smiles, reaching for your hand, and squeezes.

Regardless of what became of you and Charles, it's hard not to feel as if this was your dream too. All the late nights and missed dates and the pain and scrutiny were for this. For him to achieve this very dream.

You feel tears start to well in your eyes as Charles enters his final lap. The people around you are already jumping out of their seats, egging him on, closer and closer to the chequered flag.

As Charles drives past the finish line, the whole world seems to erupt in cheers but it's all tuned out as your tears start to finally fall. You don't notice the gentle shake of your shoulders as hundreds of emotions crash down on you.

You let your friend pull you into a hug, hiding your tear-streaked face from the world.

The podium celebrations right after didn't help much with your attempt at keeping a casual, level-headed facade. Your nose is stuffy and you haven't stopped crying since the race ended. The slow recognition from the people around you isn't lost on you, either.

But it's hard to care when Charles stands on the top step of the podium, beaming as his national anthem blares. It's more difficult yet, fighting the urge to run to wherever he is just so you could jump into his arms and tell him how proud of him you are, how much you miss him, how much you still love him.

Instead, you turn to your friend, hicupping through your tears as you ask if they can come with you back to the paddock.

-

"You're here."

You smile sheepishly as Charles stops just as he's about to enter the Ferrari motorhome. The calls of his name and murmur from the fans around you tailing him through the paddock are drowned out, your whole body seemingly rooted in place as the familiar green eyes look into yours.

"Yes," you respond plainly, suddenly at a loss for words. Clearing your throat, you step closer and Charles automatically opens his arms for a hug.

"Congratulations, Cha," you say, voice muffled into his shoulder as he pulls you against his chest.

"Thank you." Charles beams at you as he pulls away. The smell of champagne is still strong on him but you pay it no mind, wanting nothing more than for everyone to disappear so you could share even a fraction of a moment with him. Just him.

"Did you cry, mon cœur?" Charles asks, looking at you closely. Your jaw drops open at his use of your old pet name and he, too, pauses and blinks as he realizes what he's done.

Charles laughs, a hint of nervousness in his voice, and you can't help but giggle along. It's awkward and it's not ideal, but being this close to him brings a certain ache in your heart, more sweet than painful.

"I'll see you later, okay?" Charles declares, gently taking hold of your arm. "Promise. I'll see you."

You nod, smiling up at him. Tears prickle in your eyes again and you quickly blink them away, mortified at what everyone would think about you crying in front of your ex after his home race win.

Charles leans in and delivers a peck on your cheek, quickly rubbing your back before turning to finally enter the motorhome. He gives you one last wave before disappearing behind the glass doors.

[crtter]

I’ve been seeing some people getting a bit confused and getting some stuff wrong in the comments of that one post telling the story about the creator of Neopets throwing a hissy fit (Hissi fit lol) over people disliking his idea of a game “that’s just like Neopets but with crypto” and I don’t want to add anything to it to not bother the OP but Neopets has been a hyperfixation of mine since I was 13 and I physically can’t stop myself from going “Um, ackshually ☝️🤓” so I’m gonna do it in my own post. Here’s what happened:

The guy who got super pissed off and started badmouthing Neopets users, ending his tirade with a selfie of him giving Neopets users the finger, Adam Powell, did create Neopets, yes, but he doesn’t own it anymore since it was sold to Viacom in 2005. He has been involved in a few game ventures since but they haven’t been very successful.

His idea wasn’t to “implement NFTs in Neopets”, he’s developing (or planning to) another game that’ll apparently be free to play with some extra paid features, and said features would be paid in some sort of cryptocurrency.

Sadly, the parent company of Neopets, JumpStart, already tried to implement NFTs by partnering with Metaverse back in 2021, with disastrous results, both in the eyes of Neopets players (who hated the idea because NFTs are a scam and terrible for the environment and all) and in the eyes of NFT bros (because the NFTs in question were VERY overpriced given their poor quality and made using stolen assets from Neopets fan sites). The project is apparently still underway but it’s hugely unpopular and tweets made by the official Neopets Metaverse account mostly only gets engagement from NFT bots, if they get any at all.

Back to Adam. He apparently thought people would be “excited about his new game because of the Neopets Metaverse thing”, without knowing how much the fanbase hated the whole thing, and tried to peddle it in the Discord server of the r/Neopets subreddit, a subreddit that has always been VERY vocal against the Neopets NFTs. And well. You can guess how much people weren’t interested in his game. Then, just to make matters worse, people went on the Discord server of his game and saw that it was badly moderated and chock full of homophobic comments made by cryptobros.

Adam gets pissed off at people disliking his game idea and not taking kindly to his comments that “they just don’t understand what crypto is about” and goes on an angry tirade, saying stuff such as how much he wished he never made Neopets because the fanbase sucks, saying he’s going to buy it back just to destroy it and ending in the aforementioned middle finger selfie, all while people clowned on him like crazy. This ended in him getting banned from the Discord server AND from the r/Neopets subreddit. He then started trying to defend himself and demanding to be unbanned in… the comment thread of a news article relating the incident in the Neopets fan site Jellyneo. Last time I checked he was still at it.

He blamed his outburst on “having drunk alcohol while on Sertraline” and has said he wasn’t aware of the homophobic comments in his server and claimed that he doesn’t have anything against LGBT+ people, but he has also made it very clear he doesn’t think he’s in the wrong and won’t apologize for anything.

[maxwellatoms]

I bought a Gartenmeister Fuchsia plant for my birthday back in January. It was a centerpiece all winter long, but recently it started looking a bit sickly. I'm not a "green" gerdener anymore (haha), but I am also by no means a master. I think it was infected with powdery mildew, but I also convinced myself it was spider mites. I try to keep things all -natural out there, so I dried it out and sprayed it with some neem oil after pruning it back a bit. I really should've pruned off all of the infected bits, but I didn't want to lose the flowers.

I did that a few more times, unable to commit to a hard prune because I kept telling myself "I don't know what I'm doing, so maybe it's not sick. Maybe it'll fix itself. Sure would be nice to have those flowers back." I finally gave up and cut it to the bone yesterday, but yesterday was too late. I had to remove every single leaf because I dithered for too long. It's probably not going to make it.

I feel the same way about our culture. US culture. Western culture (though its really a global problem). The Entertainment Industry. The Media. It's sick. We probably need some rather serious surgery to fix the problem, but we just will not see a doctor. To see a doctor would be to admit there's a problem, and for some that is the greatest sin of the 21st Century. Maybe some of us are just hoping the system will recover on its own so we can have our pretty flowers back.

For me, it was around 2010 or so when I first started to smell something "off". The symptoms had certainly been around a while. This was just when I noticed. This was when I got my first, "Hey, let's not make fun of corporations" note. It's when The History Channel stopped airing stuff about history in favor of aliens because that's where the money was. And rather than rebranding, they just left it as "History", encouraging future generations to believe whatever they felt like. This was also about when traditional news outlets started skewing to clickbait in order to compete with sites that were clearly 100% not legitimate news sites. Again, as long as the money is right it's "just entertainment" and you' can're welcome to believe it if it means you'll watch more.

I'm all-in on Dead Internet Theory now. The disparity between what major news media outlets will report and what you see from actual people on Tumblr or Threads or Reddit is pretty shocking. And those sites are already compromised by bots and bad actors. The tools exist now to actively bamboozle millions of people, and I have no doubt we're already seeing some of this now. In six months or a year you'll find out it (whatever it was) never happened or was generated by an LLM. The time to stop listening to anyone online was a year ago.

Trust no one.

Not even me!

It's cultural rot. It's spreading faster and faster, and I'm not sure what happens when we get to the end of this ride. Actually, I AM sure what happens. If we don't prune back hard now, then the rot takes over. Best-case, you clip the infected branches off too late and it takes years to recover. Worst case? Nature soldiers on but the plant succumbs to infection and dies completely, replaced (eventually) by something that can actually hack it in that spot.

When humans produce art and information, and then comment on that art and information by producing more art and information, we call it "culture". We're moving toward a time when the vast majority of art and ideas we get out eyes on won't be created by humans. Or at the very least won't be created with the purpose of commenting on or enriching the organic human experience. When that happens, what will we call it? What will remain of our culture?

[gracieheartspedro]

Beggin' for Thread

part 2 of Trash Talk

pairing: fem!reader x abby anderson (post outbreak, set before the events of tlou2)

description: being stuck with abby and him-who-should-not-be-named on a mission is already a big problem. especially when you're not on your a-game. abby ends up saving your ass. but hey, it may not all be in vain. shit starts to get a bit better.

word count: 9.2k (HAHAHA I got wild with this one.)

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, no use of y/n, no real descriptions of reader, nsfw, smut, wlw, some slight bullying, this part has a lot of murder in it (so if you're not good with violence, pls skip out), use of guns, graphic description of dead bodies, ow*n is in a lot of this (sorry), dom!abby, abby giving reader a bed bath, fingering, eating out, use of a strap on, dirty talk, name calling. someone lowkey walking in on sexy time? if I missed anything, please let me know.

author's note: the wait is over! the love on part 1 blows me away. I love you guys so fucking much. you each make my heart so happy. thank you thank you thank you!!

“Hey, Heartless. Glad you could join us today.”

His voice makes your skin crawl. You rub your eyes, trying to clear the haze out of your vision. You’re overly exhausted. After Abby left, you never found sleep. You could not get her out of your mind. She left you disoriented. 

“Hey, Owen,” You mutter, his name tastes disgusting in your mouth. He was gross to look at, let alone talk to. You decide to occupy your mind by checking over the guns you were just dispensed while you sit and wait for the jeep you would be loaded into gets gassed up. 

“Heard you and Abby got into it.”

You heart stops. He can’t know?

You hold your composure, not even flinching at the question. If he did know, you’re just going to deny it and tell him to fuck off. 

“What are you talking about?” You play dumb, not ever looking up to meet Owen’s gaze above you. 

“Manny told me you were going in on her yesterday,” He sounds a bit unnerved when he says it. You stop checking over your gun, finally meeting his eyes. Before you can respond, you cock the gun before flicking the safety on. 

“It’s not my fault she can’t pull her fuckin’ punches. We could’ve easily been picked off one by one since she didn’t want to unload her gun at some Scars.”

You don’t even realize how bitter you sound until it all comes out like word vomit. You weren’t even that angry about that, you knew you could handle it all alone. It was the fact that she left you hanging last night and became cold so quick. 

Owen chuckles, “Take it easy, dude. I’m just wonderin’ why you think it’s okay to talk to her like that.”

He’s sizing you up. Typical of a man like Owen. 

You stand up, knowing damn well it was the wrong day for him to do some shit like this to you. 

You sling your rifle over your shoulder, “I’m not in the mood to answer to some fuck ass like you. And I’m also sure your new nurse girlfriend wouldn’t like to hear that her boyfriend is trying to stick up for his ex.”

“Don’t bring Mel into this,” He begins, his stance shifting, “You don’t get to talk about her.”

“And you don’t get to weasel your way into my business because you’re some entitled idiot who thinks every woman owes you something,” You begin to side step past him, “For all our sake, keep your mouth shut and leave the leading to the girls.”

You don’t listen to the rest of the shit he spouts at you. You walk towards Manny, who’s standing next to another guy, you think his name is Alex. You give him a slight nod of acknowledgment. 

“Hey there, cariño,” Manny says a smile creeping across his face, “Sleep well?”

Your skin crawls.

“Like a baby,” You mumble, your eyes feeling heavy as you respond, “Who are we waiting for?”

“Abby and Leah will be here any minute,” Alex explains as he finishes filling the jeep with fuel, “Think they went to grab some breakfast.”

Hearing Abby’s name next to another girl's name made your throat tighten. You can’t be jealous. She’s not yours.

Just as you’re about to say something about being late to your checkpoint, Manny's eyes avert up to the door leading into the stadium. Abby and Leah appear, both holding a plethora of breakfast burritos. Your stomach had been upset all morning because of anxiety, so the idea of food makes you want to hurl. You observe Abby and Leah hand each foiled wrapped tortilla to everyone, making jokes about being late. 

Abby’s eyes lock onto yours as soon as her head turns in your direction. She blinks before avoiding your gaze for Manny’s.

“Nice for you guys to join us,” Alex jokes as Leah walks towards him with an extended hand, burrito in tow. 

You scoff, “Yeah, we should’ve left 20 minutes ago.”

Abby’s face drops from a soft smile to a deadly glare. She gives Manny a burrito, her hands holding two remaining. 

One was meant for you. 

“Yeah? Well you should’ve gotten a head start by yourself. Cleared the way for everyone.”

Her sharpness filled you with rage. She extends some foil towards you. Before you can even say anything, your instincts are to swat her arm away. The burrito flies out of her hand, splattering across the concrete floor. 

“What the fuck,” She yells, her eyes trained on your deadpan expression. You feel a hand on your shoulder, and you glance back to a stern looking Manny. He doesn’t want a repeat of yesterday. 

You look back at Abby’s furrowed eyebrows, her scrunched face causing sharp pains to go across your chest. 

“I don’t like burritos.”

She shakes her head, “So you launch it out of my fuckin’ hands when someone else could’ve eaten it?!”

You don’t say anything, just turn and begin your climb up onto the jeep. You slip onto the spot you found yourself in yesterday, closest to the passenger side. 

You watch everyone hesitantly get in behind you. 

-

“Are you okay taking the top floors with Owen and Abby? Or do you want to come with me and Leah?”

Manny is adjusting his rifle on his shoulder. You all arrived to the skyscraper you heard Scars were trying to take over to get some higher ground on a popular WLF route. Your goal is to take out every Scar there and prepare it for WLF occupation. 

Manny wanted to make sure you would not act up for Abby and Owen. He didn’t want to deal with the fallout if there was another incident involving you. He really liked you, he didn’t want to see you getting chewed out or possibly killed. You appreciated him looking out for you. 

“That’s fine,” you settle your hands confidently on your gun, “I will be on my best behavior, Manny. Promise.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

You stay back from the rest of the group as you all walk quietly through the destroyed streets of Seattle. Luckily this area wasn’t consistently flooded, so you didn’t have to wade through any filthy water today. 

Abby walks in front of you next to Leah and Owen. You stare at her backside, trying not to make yourself too obvious. You need to cut it out, you need to focus. 

When you all finally make it to the building, you huddle in with the group to remind each person where they are going. You and Manny hashed it out already so you want to be positive you knew where everyone would be if all hell broke loose. 

Owen cringes when he hears that you’d be joining him and Abby. 

You all split up to your designated places. You let Owen lead not wanting to argue when Scars could be on any corner. He starts towards a staircase, his gun trained forward. You follow him before Abby does, which means she gets to be behind you now. You three head up each staircase, your guns resting on your shoulders. You are as quiet as mice, your footfalls silent. 

Owen stops, turning back to you and Abby. 

“I hear them,” He whispers, pointing up the flight you have yet to go up. You nod, gesturing him to press forward. He continues on. This is when your adrenaline turns to numbness. You forget the emotions you had before you were in this staircase, they are now replaced with pure instinct. 

Owen creeps open the door and that’s when you hear it. 

A whistle from behind you. 

You snap back, your finger and eyes reacting at the same time. A single Scar with their bow trained right on Abby. With one squeeze, they are on the ground bleeding and Abby jumps forward towards your body. She wraps her arms around your waist, her gun aimed towards the door Owen just opened. More whistling. 

“Go!”

You’re not even focused on the fact that Abby has her hands on you, pulling your attention back to the open room of about 10 Scars. Owen is lighting up the room, but firing aimlessly. You hunch down, taking cover behind the door frame. Abby is beside you, tightly gripping onto her gun. You glance over at her. She’s not panicked, she’s not rattled. She’s angry. 

You smirk at her, sickly enjoying her in this state. 

You snap forward, aiming everywhere you see movement. Luckily Owen got the few at the front of the room. One, two, three, drop in their puddles of blood. When more gunfire erupts behind you, instinct is to look back. So when you look back at Abby firing skillfully at the people you missed, you just about fall to your knees. 

When you look back, you realize no more movement stirs the smokey room. 

“Everyone okay?” Owen calls out as you step forward as you wander around each piece of furniture in the room. You want to make sure you’re vigilant. 

“I’m good, are you?”

You step over a man’s body as you spot a foot move behind a desk. 

When you make it over to the body, it’s a girl with her hand over her neck. You aimed at her earlier, you could’ve sworn you aimed higher. 

The fact that your initial thought was how you killed her made your brain snap back. What the fuck are you doing?

She’s trying to speak, but nothing is coming out. Blood is pooling on her chest and hands. You kneel down to her, your demeanor changing from violent murderer to grieving friend. Even with the scars littering her face, she looks just like any other girl you may know. Her mouth is moving but nothing is coming out. You reach out your hand, touching her leg. 

You can feel your stomach flip when you notice a tear slipping from her eye. Guilt riddles your bones, the blood spilling from her by your own hand. 

You swallow thickly before you mutter the words, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

She lets out one final breath. 

You stand, your legs feeling wobbly. You look back at Abby and Owen. He’s not focused on you, but Abby can’t look away from your actions. She gives you a curious look, watching you stumble a bit. 

“What is it?”

You can’t even form words, too taken aback from watching the life slip from that girl’s eyes. It brought you back to when you were a child, watching your sister die. That could’ve been someone’s sister. 

“What the fuck are we even doing?” You ask, trying not to stutter. 

Owen finally looks over at you after stealing a guy’s gun magazine, “What are you talking about?”

You know you’ll get in trouble for saying what you really want to say. You can’t trust either of them. Everything would get back to Isaac. 

So you don’t say anything.

You finish clearing the room, trying to avoid looking at the faces of the deceased. Owen and Abby leave the room while you trail behind them slowly. You’re on edge, trying to shake the emotions and ideas running through your head. It’s the same emotion you felt when that guy tried to force you to butcher a child, probably not even above the age of 10. Their mother stood by, screaming the child’s name, but you were too busy staring into the child’s eyes. 

They are just like us. What are we doing?

Owen kicks open another door, leading you and Abby through what you assumed was an old board room. There was no one there, but as you looked across the water damaged floor, you notice one of the shattered glasses windows. You creep closer, the glass crunching under your boots. You look down to the street, the grass overtaking the main road. You start to imagine what this place probably looked like before the infection. 

Now it’s a wasteland. 

You realize how high up you are when you hear a shaky breath behind you. Abby stands close to you, trying to see what you’re seeing, but instead she starts to panic over the height you were at. You face her, remembering all the times you were forced to take the high ground with her, only for her to have a panic attack and leave you alone. 

She’s practically dry heaving. You push her back, nudging her to get away from the open window. 

“We don’t need you throwing up,” You grumble, your hand on her shoulder, “Stay back.”

She swallows, shaking her head. “Deal.”

Owen scopes out an attached room before you three continue pressing on. You needed to clear every room that wasn’t destroyed by time and vegetation. 

You pander down an empty hallway by yourself, trying to ensure your footsteps are not loud. You grip your gun when you hear a couple voices in a separate stairway. You press yourself against the wall next to the exit, waiting for the voices to get closer. 

“There can’t be that many left. We already got two of them.”

You snap your head the direction Abby and Owen were the last time you saw them. Now it’s only Abby. She stares at you, her eyes glinting with curiosity. You nod towards the door next to you, cocking your gun. 

She knows what that means. She jogs over, trying not to be too loud. 

When she gets to your side, she gets into a defensive stance. The voices are coming down the stairs, you think. 

“Aim up. There’s two.”

She nods right before you kick open the door, exposing the two people on the stairs. They don’t even have time to raise their weapons before Abby riddles them with bullets. 

The sound attracts Owen, who comes stomping down the hallway. 

“There’s more, go down!”

You hold your ground, shaking your head, “We can’t! Isaac said we need to c-”

“Fuck what he said. We are gonna die if we stay!”

Owen is never one to abandon a mission, so you take his word for it. But you know what you heard, if they did kill 2 people, one of them could’ve been Manny. And if they killed Manny, you don’t know what you’d do. Manny is the only other person you can tolerate in the WLF. Besides… you know. 

You have to just hope he’s okay. 

Abby’s eyes widen as she looks down the hall where Owen was just coming from. Whistles erupt and you know what that means. Abby grabs your free hand, practically ripping your arm out of the socket as she takes off down the stairs. 

You’re practically being dragged down the steps, skipping multiple steps at once as Abby never gives up your hand. Owen is close behind, but every so often, he stops to aim up the stairs to spray bullets. He’s trying to slow them down, but he’s also probably attracting more to your location. A door swings open in Abby’s path, and without even thinking for a millisecond, you lift up your gun and shoot directly into the opening. It was just one guy and your aim was spot on. Your mind is solely on protecting the girl who’s incapable of letting go of your hand. 

“Keep moving!”

Another five flights and you’re finally on the ground floor. Abby finally releases your hand, letting you catch your breath for a second as Owen stands his ground and lights up the staircase behind you.

“We need to find the others! Now!” Abby yells over the gunfire.

You stumble forward, checking down the hallway you watched Manny and Leah go down before you three walked up the stairs. You don’t even say anything, you just start running down the corridor. Your throat is tight just thinking of Manny’s lifeless body. 

Two Scars appear behind a corner and you expertly shoot them, running straight pass them without hestitating. You’re in fight or flight mode, your body shaking with fear that you could stumble upon a horrible scene. 

You don’t know when you start doing it, but you start screaming his name. Over and over again. You’re giving away where you are to the enemy, but you did not care.

Before you can finish slaughtering more people, Manny and Leah yell your name from a room at the end of the hall. When you get to the door, you kick it open with all your might, breaking through the door with your foot. 

“¿Qué pasó? Are you alright!?”

You’re panting and on edge, so when you see Manny’s concerned face, you breath a sigh of relief. His voice brings a bit of comfort as well. 

Abby finally makes it to you, her boots halting right behind you, while her hands find the sides of your body. 

“We gotta go! There’s more Scars than we thought. We either go or die!”

You swallow thickly, your body buzzing at the feeling of Abby’s large hands on your hips. She’s not doing it on purpose, it’s almost like she needs to have you close. She needs to protect you just like you protected her.

Manny glances over at Leah, nodding in agreement that they are on the same page. Abby pulls you away from the threshold so they can leave the room they were scoping out. Owen gets to you four, informing everyone where he thinks the Scars could hide and how they would probably make your escape hard. Abby’s hands are still on you. 

You glance back at her, your lips slightly ajar. She looks down at you with hooded lids. 

“We are getting out of here and you’re not leaving my side, got it?” She whispers for your ears only. You just nod. 

You’re just following everyone at this point, keeping your finger trained on the trigger of your gun. Abby follows you closely, not letting you out her eyeline. You run through each corridor, trying to seek out a good exit. When you finally reach the end of a hallway, you peer out the floor to ceiling windows to see if you spot any Scars outside. There’s two rooms beside you that look like they are empty, but there’s no light shining through the thresholds. This is the only way out down this hallway. You were sick of being a sitting duck. When you realize you have no other choices you liked, you shoot out the window. 

The group jumps back at your reaction. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” Owen yells, smacking your shoulder hard. You turn your gun and aim it right at him. Abby’s eyes widen at your action, her arm instantly going up to block the barrel of your gun. She’s pleading with you, her eyes never leaving yours. 

“I’m getting us out of here. Why do you insist on being a prob-”

Before you can get the rest of the word out, you hear footsteps approaching you quickly from the right. All you can remember is the air being taken from your lungs and your body flying sideways, away from Abby’s protective stance. 

-

When you come to, you’re being held up by someone. You blink slowly, but your eyes will not focus on the person whose arms are holding you tight.

“What’s happening?” You manage to mutter. As you say it, you taste blood. Your ears are ringing, but you can still hear the voices around you. They are yelling to run faster! 

“You’re gonna be fine, okay babe?”

You know that voice. 

“You can’t call me that.”

She slows down a bit just to look at you, “Can call you whatever I want.”

Your head hurts. You know you can not fight the exhaustion plaguing your body. You can’t even argue back to her. You shut your eyes again, succumbing to the darkness. 

-

You notice the pounding headache first. Then the very dimly lit hospital room you’re in. Then the presence in the corner of the room. 

“Welcome back,” Her voice is smooth and velvety. You prop yourself a bit, but as soon as you do, it’s like the pressure in your head doubles. You feel like your brain may implode, the pain pulsating against your skull. You try to widen your eyes to focus on her, but your brain cannot muster enough energy to do so. Your vision is just slightly blurred while you train your eyes on her. 

“What happened?” Your voice is weak and your mouth is dry. You try your best to create saliva, but nothing really happens when you smack your chapped lips. 

“You got tackled by a Scar before any of us could see him coming. Asshole was quick. You smacked your head pretty hard on the floor,” She stands up from the chair in the corner, making her way closer to you. She’s not wearing the same shirt as yesterday. She’s in a long sleeve thermal, the light off white is a good color on her. 

You blink slowly, trying to take in the information, “What happened to him?”

“Manny shot him when I was ripping him off you. It attracted a lot more of them. I grabbed you before anyone else could and just took off running.”

You look up at her when she gets to your side. You don’t say anything, just shake your head. You can’t believe Abby, of all people, saved you from possible death. She had your back the whole time, even though you gave her shit. You didn’t even realize the small glances, the quick actions when you were in your own zone. 

All you could think about the whole time is how you were totally off your game and Isaac was going to have your neck for it. 

“And the rest of the group?”

“They were close behind. We made it back to the jeep pretty quickly. I held you in the back until we could get to the hospital. That’s where we are now.”

“Who didn’t make it out?”

Her lips go into a thin line, “Alex and Kerrigan.”

Alex was the guy from earlier this morning with Manny. He seemed nice enough, surely he didn’t deserve to die. Kerrigan was a girl you remember from a couple of meetings with Isaac. She was a smaller girl, quick on her feet and very quiet. You can’t even really remember her face, which makes you feel bad. 

“Shit… I’m sorry we couldn’t get to them.”

“Not your fault. They knew what they were getting into when we had them join patrols. I know Owen’s taking it pretty hard.”

You want to smack her for even bringing up his name. But you don’t. You know she still may have a special place in her heart for him. You just despised him, especially after he confronted you this morning. Prick. 

She’s taking her time explaining things to you. You realize she’s not ever looking away from you when she speaks, something she usually does when you stare at her. She’s watching you carefully, her beautiful eyes soft with empathy.

“Are you okay?” You question, reaching out to her closest hand. She doesn’t pull away when you grab it, bringing it into your side.

She bites her cheek, “Yeah, course I am. Just glad I got you out of there.”

The softness of her whisper brings warmth to your entire body. You didn’t care about your head, or how hot the room was, or how you may have serious repercussions when you got back to the Stadium. 

What mattered is that she’s here. She’s here and she wants to be. You felt relief that she may have come to her senses about what happened between you two. Something had to of changed.

“What changed? Why are you so dead set on helping me now?”

She winces, probably not expecting you to ask such a question. She contemplates for a minute, licking her lips to prepare herself for what she’s about to say. 

“I can’t stop thinking about last night. Made me realize how I really feel about you,” You’re heart races at her words. You’re amazed when she continues, “I think I was scared of having those types of emotions for you. That’s why I couldn’t stay. I didn’t want to lay in your bed and overthink everything when it’s pretty simple.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “What’s simple?”

“The fact that I like you. And I have for awhile.”

It’s like the world stops and it’s just you and Abby. You can tell she’s nervous to say it, but she needed it off her chest like it was suffocating her. She lefts out a long huff, crouching down in a squat. Her unraveling braid falls onto her shoulder and you let your eyes trail it down to her chest. You notice some blood speckled in with her freckles, right near her button nose and cheekbones. 

“Yeah, I like you, too.”

She smiles subtly, trying not to get too excited over the confession. But the truth was that she wanted to jump up and down in elation. She had never had someone confide in her about their feelings for her, so the idea that someone as beautiful as you could like her despite all her baggage, it gave her hope. 

“I want to go home,” You grumble not sure what else to say, your thumb running over the back of her hand, “I wanna go home with you.”

“The doctor here wants to monitor you another day. I have to ship out and get back to explain to Isaac what happe-“

“No, fuck that,” You squeeze her hand, “You’re staying here with me and bringing me back to the Stadium. I’m not going back with anyone else.”

She notes the serious nature of your tone. She looks up at you with those eyes. Abby Anderson could very well be the death of you. 

“I can’t refuse orders, babe,” She states, her eyes falling to your joined hands.

“Bullshit, Abby. If you tell Isaac I want you as my transport, he will let you stay. I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

You’re practically panicking thinking about Abby leaving without you. With the way you feel now, you don’t want to be out without her. She felt like the safest person to have around. You can’t trust anyone else. 

You start to finally bring wetness back to your mouth, “Tell him that you need to be with me.”

“You know damn well everyone will be suspicious. I need to go back. You need to stay here. Nora will take you back, you’ll be s-“

“Get me out of this fuckin’ bed right now. I’m going with you.”

You stay to move but your body feels like jello. As soon as you try to plant your feet on the ground, Abby is reaching over your legs and placing them back on the gurney. 

“Babe,” She pleads, “Just… fuck. Okay fine, I’ll stay. I’ll stay. We can both answer to Isaac when we get back, I guess.”

Relief rushes over your body. 

“He’s going to have a lot to say to me, that’s for sure. I failed two missions in a row that usually are a piece of cake,” You put your free hand over your forehead. You’re sweating so bad. You glance over at Abby who’s reaching over to one of the tables by your bed for a rag, “I’m not a submissive girl to him like I am to you.”

She smirks up at you. She can’t believe you admitted to being a submissive to her. 

“Yeah, you are, aren’t you?”

If your body didn’t feel like shit, you know you’d be grabbing Abby by her collar and hauling her up on the bed to kiss you. She made your face go hot, her piercing eyes raking down your body. You almost felt embarrassed being so vulnerable in front of her. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” You warn, adjusting your butt on the hard bed. 

“Like what?”

You rake your mind for a response. You settle for repeating something she said to you yesterday. 

“Shut that stupid smart mouth up for a minute,” You try to mock her but you sound nothing like her. She laughs at your half assed imitation. She pats your head with the cold rag, getting all the sweat off your forehead.

“Get some sleep, you weirdo.”

-

“How ya doin’, princess?”

You shake your head at the nickname, smacking her arm with your left hand. You’re still weak and tired, but you felt a lot better with some extra rest. Abby loaded you up in a jeep as soon as you could hobble outside, and now you are heading back to the stadium. You couldn’t wait to get in your bed and sleep for three days straight. 

“‘M good, thanks.”

Her smile is the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. You didn’t know what this meant for you two, but you were excited to see how things would change over time for you two. Maybe you’d be put on less patrols together, but you could spend your free days and nights with her. After all this time, you could have her. 

She taps her fingers on the steering wheel, “Can I ask you something?”

“Depends.”

She slows down the car to glance over at you, “What did you mean when you asked what the hell we were doing? Yesterday when that Scar was trying to reach out to you as she was dying?”

Your heart sinks. Your mind instantly goes to betrayal. Abby is only acting like this towards you because she wants information. She wants to rat you out.

You go from thinking about your deep desire for Abby to thinking about how to protect yourself, she’s going to ruin your life. You’re instantly spiraling. 

“I don’t know what you’re asking me. Are you insinuating something?”

You watch as panic spread across her face. She realizes how bad she sounds asking such a question. 

“No, no,” She’s starting to stutter and use her hands as she speaks, “That’s not what I meant by it.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I’m just wondering if you feel the same guilt I feel sometimes! You know, like when you kill a someone and watch the life leave their eyes, I don’t know. Jesus.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. She wasn’t trying to double cross you, just emphasize with you. You really can not trust yourself to think the worst of everyone. Maybe because it felt like everything with Abby was too good to be true. 

You wet your lips, “Yeah, that’s what I meant. I don’t like to… I never enjoy killing people. I never have.”

She can’t help but laugh a bit. “Well you’re really fuckin’ good at it.”

“Top Scar killer in all the WLF,” You wince when you say it. She doesn’t say anything just shakes her head, speeding up the jeep down an old abandoned alleyway. You weren’t too far from the entrance to the Stadium. 

She clears her throat, “There’s only one person I’d really enjoy killing.”

Abby has never shared a lot about her past. You knew she and the Salt Lake crew were former Fireflies. You knew that she lost her dad not too long before she got to Seattle. But that’s all the information you managed to get out of her when you two were close before. She didn’t want to talk about herself, she’d rather hear about your tortured past. 

“Who?”

“Joel Miller,” Silence takes over the cabin of the car. You have no idea who that is or why she cared to kill him. Before you can ask, she speaks up again, “The man who killed my father.”

You understand what it feels like to want revenge. But you also know what it’s like to finally get it. Most of the time you still feel bad. Nothing brings back the dead, not even the satifaction of watching their killer’s take their last breaths. You brutualized the man who killed your sister, and it never made her death any easier. But you knew that yearning was different for everyone. Maybe it would make Abby feel better. 

You decide it’s best to just nod, acknowledging her desire. 

The rest of the ride is pretty quiet, just the sound of crackling of rocks under the SUV’s tires. When you get to the entrance of the Stadium, Abby waves and calls out to the gatekeeper. He opens the tall wired fence and lets you two pass through. As soon as Abby parks, it’s like a swarm of people surround you two. Abby gestures you to wait so she can get your door. You laugh thinking about that stupid saying some old people say. 

Maybe chivalry isn’t dead. 

She swings open the door, pushing aside some random guy who’s staring you down. You grab Abby’s shoulder as you ease yourself onto the concrete. You were still a bit unsteady when you walked. It was a mixture of the weakness but also Nora told you that the concussion you have is probably causing balance issues. You took her word for it. 

“Top Scar killer not looking so well, now,” The guy mutters from behind Abby, “Who knows, maybe one of us can be Isaac’s favorite ass kisser!”

You don’t even know the guy and the vibe he’s giving off is making you nervous. He’s about 5’8” and stocky. Abby could take him herself, but you don’t feel the need for her to fight for your honor after everything that you two have been through in the last two days. Abby huffs out in annoyance, ensuring you’re able to stand properly. You start to walk towards the ramp that leads up to the Stadium’s main corridors. The guy is still muttering shit as Abby unloads your backpack and hers. 

“What are you friends with her now, Abby?”

“Can you fuck off? Does it look like either of us are in the mood?” She spits, slinging your backpack over her shoulder. You stand and wait at the base of the ramp for her to catch up. The guy just follows her closely, interrogating her about the mission that failed. Abby just ignores him, her eyes locked on yours. Before she makes it to you, the guy asks one final question. 

“What do you have a crush on her or something?”

Abby drops her backpack on the ground, and within seconds, she has the guy pinned to a truck parked near the ramp. His body makes a loud thwack when he hits the metal. Her back muscles flex as she tightens her grip. As hot as it is, you don’t feel like watching her beat someone bloody for something so dumb. You weren’t feeling your fiesty self, you just wanted to be in bed. 

“Did anyone ever fuckin’ teach you manners or are you just that fuckin’ dense?” She has her teeth clenched. As you get close, you see that she’s ripping his t-shirt. Your moving slowly, but as soon as violent words are being exchanged, you firmly grab Abby’s arm. She peels her eyes away from the guy, her face still scrunched in frustration. 

“Just let him talk his shit, Abs. He’s just jealous because he can’t get any pussy.”

You don’t even know why you included the last part, but it only aggravates the guy more. You aren’t very good at deescalation. You usually instigate things, it’s your specialty. 

Luckily, the master of settling fights comes running down the ramp. Manny. 

“Hey, you guys just got home and you’re already stirring up trouble?” 

Abby still has the guy pinned, his eyes trained on your fragile frame. 

Manny grabs Abby’s arms and pries her off the guy, his body blocking you away from the guy as well. He starts speaking Spanish under his breath, probably venting his frustrations about Abby and you not giving him a moment of peace. 

He talks down the guy, guiding him away from you and Abby. You bend over to grab her bag and shakingly hand it back to her. She watches carefully as Manny escorts the guy further down the parking lot. With her free arm, she wraps it protectively around you. You get chills up your arms and back as you two walk into the Stadium. You’re surprised she’s showing any inkling of liking you to other people, especially her peers. You know there were probably about 10 other people in the parking lot, and they for sure saw her sticking up for you. 

She drops her arm as soon as you make it to the main hallways. People glare over at you as you drudge yourself down the halls, finally making it to a staircase that would put you right in front of your room. Abby lets you start up the stairs first while she stands behind you, keeping her eyes wide in case you fall backwards. You’re relieved as you reach the last step and spot your door waiting for you. 

Abby runs ahead of you, grabbing the door and wiggling the knob.

“It’s locked.”

She rolls her eyes, “I know that now. Where’s your key?”

You turn your jaw upward and gesture towards the necklace. “Here.”

Instead of making you unravel it, she lifts her hands up to your chest. Her fingers travel down from your neck to your collarbones. She’s teasing you and it’s working. 

She grabs the key and toys with it for a minute, trying to release the clasp. Once she figures it out, she holds the key up like a grand prize. 

“You’re so stupid, please let me in my room.” 

She giggles as she sticks the key into the latch and turns it, “Patience, princess.”

Once the door clicks, she opens it for you. The cold air of your room rushes out and cools your sweaty and dirty skin. You get a sense of solace when you walk in, your body feeling a bit reenergized at the sight. 

Abby walks close to you, shutting the door behind her. She shimmies off your bag, dropping her own near the door. 

“You mind if I stay for a bit?”

Butterflies creep into the pit of your stomach. You turn to face her, spotting a somewhat hesitant girl picking at her cuticles. 

“I was hoping you would. Maybe you could give me a bed bath, just like my nurse did.”

She nods, a smirk plastered across her freckled face. 

“If you need me to, I can for sure do that,” She starts to walk over to your sink, searching for some sort of bowl or towel, “I could probably do a better job.”

You stumble over to the side of your bed, kicking off your boots with a grunt. You know exactly where this is going, and even with your weakened body, you want her so bad. 

She continues to search around, finding a large bowl and a couple of your wash rags. She fills the bowl with the warmest water as you peel off some of your clothes, leaving you in just your underwear and tank top. 

“A better job, huh?”

She finds a bar of soap near your shampoo bottles. She sniffs it before she bounds over to you. 

“Yeah,” She places the bowl on your side table, dropping a rag inside it to soak it, “I think I know your body a little bit better than Nora. Especially after the other night.”

She can’t talk to you like this, especially now that you’re in your underwear. You scoot over on the bed to allow her to sit as she rings out the blue rag. She lathers a bit of soap on it before she starts with your arms. 

She grabs your wrist delicately, lifting it so she can clean the dust and dirt off. You watch her so intently, watching her wipe you down. When she finishes one arm, she does the other. She takes her time, tilting it back and forth to ensure she got every side. 

“You want me to do your legs next?”

You smile as she soaks the towel again and ring it out. “You can do whatever you want, Abs.”

She raises her eyebrows as she creeps further down the bed. She kicks off her shoes, settling herself between your slightly spread legs. 

“This bringing you back?” You question, slightly adjusting yourself so your legs get closer to her sides. She shakes her head sheepishly, grabbing your right ankle. 

“Hmm, maybe,” She traces your legs with the rag, using her other colder hand to rub in the wet areas, “If you weren’t so weak, I’d treat you just as well as the other night.”

Even in your broken state, you can’t help yourself. “Easier to control me when I’m like this.”

She chuckles, shaking her head, “That’s taking advantage of you, and that’s not my style.”

I guess now that she confessed her feelings for you, you had to deal with a softer Abby. One that wouldn’t take control of you in the public showers. You watch as she softly runs the lavender scented towel up and down your bruised and battered legs. She is focused, not looking at you, but her eyes trailing up and down from your thighs to your ankles. 

You sit up further, leaning forward and raising your fingers down to her chin. You tilt her focus to your gaze.

“What if I want you to? Ya’ know, give you my consent?”

Her eyes darken as she settles back a bit, making your hand fall from her face. She tenses up her shoulders before rolling them back, easing herself into the idea of getting between your legs again. You smile watching her do the mental gymnastics. 

Her hand settles back onto your thigh, “You’re so desperate.”

You know you got her. 

Without saying another word, her hand travels up to your underwear. She softly places her hand over your mound, her thumb tracing your clothed slit. You lay back as wetness pools in the spot she’s touching, your body heating up naturally. 

Before she goes any further, she pulls away and plops the rag into the warm water on your side table. 

She leans forward towards you, repositioning her entire body by propping herself on her elbows right in front of your core. It was hot watching the girl you were obsessed with settling herself, still fully clothed, before your heat. You could cum at the sight alone. 

She rubs small circles right where your eager clit was through your panties. Before you can even moan out for her, she slips past the fabric and dips her pointer finger into your core. As soon as she does that, it feels like the coil may snap. You didn’t even realize how horny she has you. Maybe it was the anticipation or maybe it was the fact that this time you knew her true feelings for you. Hate sex was hot, but sex when you know she’s plagued with thoughts of you when you’re not even around, that was even better.

You don’t expect her next move. Instead of sliding your panties off, she uses minimal strength to just rip them in half.

As soon as you’re fully exposed for her, she turns into an animal. She mewls at your glistening slit. 

“All for me?” She questions before leaning in to pepper kisses all along the wet trail. You can’t help but whimper desperately at the action. 

“Yes, Abs. All for you.”

She flattens her tongue, moving further into you. Her actions are painfully slow, taking her time to drink you up. You instinctively try to close your legs together when she starts to move faster, being overwhelmed by her maneuvers. As soon as you try to move, she’s using her strong arms to hold you down. Your legs are practically pinned to the bed, her right hand still sticky from your center. 

She shakes her head back and forth, creating a whole new feeling in your stomach. You don’t even think about how loud you’re being for her, not caring if the older guy next to you hears how loud you’re getting for Abby fucking Anderson.  

For not being with women often, Abby knew exactly how to treat your pussy. She decides to change it up and add her fingers back into the equation. Once her index and middle finger enter you, you know that familiar feeling heating up your stomach. 

“Abby, fuck, don’t stop.”

And she doesn’t. Instead she quickens her mistrations, her lips enveloping your clit and her fingers fucking you faster. You reach down, grabbing her braid and the crown of her head and push her further into you as your orgasm crashes down. She drinks you down, taking everything you gave her. 

She pulls away from you, her face wet with your slick. 

“Such a good girl for me,” She continues to play with you, her fingers remaining in your heat, “Do you need me to stop? Or do you want me to give it to you like I did before?”

You smirk as you glance towards the toy that you tucked back into your side table. 

“It’s in there,” You croak out, “Need you to.”

She reaches over you, her body pressed against your stomach as she opens the top drawer and grabs the strap. Your stomach is reeling in anticipation, ready to watch Abby on top you. 

When she gets it out, she rolls off the bed completely. You watch as she strips off her shirt, leaving her bra on. You still are in disbelief of her body, her muscles highlighted perfectly by the glisten of sweat. She keeps her underwear on but you crave to see how wet she is. 

“Take the underwear off,” You say, reaching out to touch her toned stomach, “Wanna see all of you.”

She puts the strap on, ignoring your request.

“I’m not taking any demands from you right now, sweetheart. You take what I give you.”

You loved seeing her be dominant. Seeing the appendage hang from her center makes you throb. She gets back on top of you, caging your body in with her strong arms. She nudges your nose with hers, teasing you by keeping her lips inches away from yours.

“Need you, Abs.”

She captures your lips as soon as the words leave your mouth. Her lips aren’t the only thing moving into you, her hips grind into your open core. The plastic cock does not enter you, but the mixture of her kissing you and grinding is enough to send you into maddening moans.

Her swollen lips pull away, her eyes dark as she lines herself up with your opening. She drags the cock up and down, gathering your slick before easing it inside. You see stars as it stretches you, your voice hearse and gutteral. Abby eats it up. She zeros in on watch it ease out of you and split you wide open. You’re so wet, the squelching sends her to another dimension. She settles into a pace that was agnoizingly slow, taking her time with your body. She reaches behind your legs and bends them so they wrap around her waist. The new angle allows her to hit you in all the right places. 

Your orgasm is building with each stroke. She’s smiling while your mouth is set in an “o” shape, loving the reactions she was getting out of you.

“Jesus, taking me so fuckin’ well, baby,” She mewls, her hands caressing up your sides to grab onto a very important part of your body that she hardly played with this time around. You’re not wearing a bra under your tank top, so when her hands make it under the white fabric, her fingers pinch at your nipples. “You love when I fuck you like this don’t you?”

“Yes, Abby, please. I need to cum.”

She leans forward, bringing her greedy lips to yours. Since your lips are already open, her tongue enters your mouth. You suck at it, trying to get her to pay attention to your pleas. She retracts back, fucking into you harder. 

“Cum for me, then, you little slut.”

The words send you overboard. You’re falling, crashing. The waves of pleasure take over every achy muscle, your body jerking forward into Abby’s sweaty upper body. She wraps her arms around you, fucking into you still as you fall apart. You don’t know the words you’re saying, you’re just loudly whispering into her ear. 

Once your vision clears up, you look to the side to check your position out in the mirror ontop of your dresser. You looked like a fucked out mess, but Abby is the most beautiful thing you ever did see. 

You’re trying to catch your breath, your body feeling even weaker than before. Fucking someone when you had a concussion was probably not the best idea, but god damn did every part of you feel like it was buzzing. Abby stands up, her legs wobbly from being on her knees so long.

“Do you want me to make you cum?”

She smiles at your question, but she shakes her head. She yanks down the strap, opening the side drawer and tossing it in. 

“No, I just wanted to treat you. You can repay the favor when you’re feeling better.”

You start to laugh, throwing yourself back into your pillows. As soon as Abby starts to crawl back into bed, there’s a loud knock at your door. You’re both half naked, so the scramble for clothes is instanteous. You grab the first pair of pants you see and as you’re yanking them up your legs, you realize they are Abby’s. 

“Coming in!”

It’s Isaac’s voice. Your stomach drops as the knob turns and you and Abby stand completely still in your spots. Her pants don’t fit you well at all, so hold them over your private area to block any eyes from it. 

He doesn’t even make eye contact with you, he instantly meets Abby’s panicked gaze.

“What the hell?” He turns to you and immediately turns his back, “Well I see that you’re feeling better.”

Your blood ran cold. 

“Yeah, can you uh, give us a minute?”

He doesn’t say anything, just opens the door and slams it behind him. You’re appalled that he even opened the door without confirmation of that being okay. Your eyes snap over to Abby, who’s look of fear turns into rage. You yank off her pants and toss them to her.

“We’re fucked,” She mumbles, putting her clothes on. You search a nearby dresser drawer for some sweatpants and pull down your ragged tank top. You look back at Abby to check to make sure she’s clothed before you head back to the door and let Isaac in. 

You nod at her before grabbing the handle and pulling the door open. When you meet his gaze, he doesn’t look impressed. You are shocked to see another figure beside him. Manny.

“Hey there,” Manny greets, his eyes showing a bit of hesitance. “We good to come in now?”

You don’t say anything, just open the door wider for them to step through the threshold. Abby stands by your desk, her arms crossed. She tries to keep an emotionless expression, but you can tell she’s pissed. And maybe a bit nervous. 

“Just checking in to see how you are,” Isaac says, his pacing leading him to one of the chairs in the corner of your room. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Just a concussion. Some bruises. Should be good to get back on after some of the nurses here clear me.”

You try to sound confident but you’re still somewhat dazed from the sex you just had. You lean against the beam in the center of your room, trying your best not to look over to see what Abby is doing. You could still feel your cum dripping down your leg. 

“Yeah I don’t think you’ll be getting back on any time soon,” Isaac says, his demeanor changing towards you, “I still don’t trust you. And now you’re sleeping with Abby? You think I don’t see what you’re trying to do?”

Your heart sinks, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Manny clears his throat, “Owen told us you were questioning the mission. That you weren’t pulling your punches. Letting some Scars live.”

“Well, he’s a fuckin’ liar!” Your voice is cracking, unsure of how to defend yourself. You were pissed at Owen and you knew that emotion would turn into vengeance. They can’t ostracize you for something like that. They can’t kill you for being empathetic. Can they?

“She never said that,” Abby finally speaks up, “I was there. Owen has it wrong.”

“Abby…” Isaac says in a warning tone, “You better not be lying for her.”

Abby scoffs, “When have I ever lied to you? Never. I am not lying for her. Owen was the one who refused your orders and got us all to leave. He said we go or we die. You shouldn’t be reprimanding her. She told him we had a job to do.”

Isaac halts in his rebuttal, thinking of what his next move should be. 

Manny crosses his arms. You’re so pissed, you want to slap him. How dare he go against you and be here to watch Isaac try to accuse you of something like this? What did you ever do to him?

“Is this true?” Isaac questions, standing up to get closer to your slightly hunched over frame. 

You don’t even hesitate, knowing this was all going to fall back on Owen. You wanted to see how that ended for him. 

“Yes. I knew I could not let you down another time. I would never risk something like that. I’m loyal to you and this cause. I am sorry if I let you down again. I wanted to finish the job, I really did.”

You were an outstanding liar. And now you know, Abby was, too. She also had your back. Which made you like her even more. 

Isaac tries to sense any deception but there’s nothing written on either of your faces to indicate that. 

 “Report back to me in two days,” He says to you with a very stern voice, “and Anderson, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. You’re first patrol out.”

When he’s satisfied with his interrogation, he turns to Manny.

“Well, I guess you were right about one thing.”

Manny furrows his eyebrows at the slightly shorter man, unsure what he’s talking about. “Sir?”

“They are fucking each other, but they aren’t liars,” He turns back to you and Abby, giving you two a kurt nod. 

You cross your arms, watching Isaac leave the room and bump into Manny as he does. You don’t even want to deal with him right now, so you wave him out, not saying anything to him. You would deal with him later. Right now, you need a back rub and sleep. And that’s exactly what you intended to get when that door slammed on Manny’s ass on his way out. 

[exercise-of-trust]

everyone clap and cheer for my beautiful daughter who has every disease 🥰 her name is þerindë because her wheel is made out of an embroidery hoop; she is entirely handmade and boy howdy does it show

a whole bunch of things have stopped working since i took that video last night and i'm not sure how much more wherewithal i have to keep messing with her, but i did manage to spin about two feet of something before then! so i'm showing her off a bit now, and if i can figure out what-all i fucked up maybe you'll see more of her in the future. some process and progress photos under the cut (not a tutorial. do not do this. i cannot sufficiently stress how bad of an idea this was and is*)

(*if you are going to do this and have questions not answered here i am always happy to answer them, inbox and dms are open etc, but like. i would strongly advise against it)

here's the hoop! it's about a foot across, with a groove carved out with a speedball. this ended up being way too shallow (who'd'a'thunk) so the final version is a lot deeper than what you're seeing here. the paint stirrers are held in with straight pins because i was worried regular nails would just crack the hoop lmao. my girl is so deeply and profoundly scuffed <3

the flyer is made from three cedar shingles glued together because i didn't have a solid piece of wood large enough. astonishingly nothing broke while i was sawing out the rough shape and it whittled down pretty nicely! the hooks are scrap 2mm copper wire, the orfice is a couple inches of plastic drinking straw, and the pulley wheel is also hand-carved, which is why it looks like a fucked-up oreo and has the weird hitch at the top of the spin that you probably saw in the video 🙃 frankly i am astonished it works as well as it does

the wheel frame is. man. the axle supports haven't broken yet but frankly it's a miracle they're still in place with how much strain they're under every time. the original base was that weird little bit of paint stirrer, which (shocker) did not work out in the long run; it's been replaced by an offcut from the frame and is significantly more sturdy now. it's surprisingly level, though, and turns pretty smoothly all things considered!

the frame was a nightmare start to finish; i've never done any serious woodworking before in my life and the whole thing was just kind of slapped together without a plan or any sort of concrete measurement. it wobbles so fucking bad and every few hours i have to push a couple of the parts back together where the nails are sort of drifting out of the wood. you may observe a weird post sticking out the left side of the mother-of-all; that is supposed to be for scotch tensioning. does it actually do that? sort of! the belt is a length of cotton crochet thread that is, after much fiddling, just the right size to not slip out more than once every three minutes.

treadling was another pain to figure out and i think i probably made it way more complicated than it needed to be. it still doesn't work very well and i can't tell if that's something i can fix hardware-wise or if i just have to suck it up and practice a lot more. turns out feet are not as coordinated as hands! i would say "now i know for next time!" but frankly i am never doing this again. you couldn't pay me. speaking of which, i did the math and at my current pre-tax hourly salary i could've bought two brand-new ashford travelers with the number of hours i spent building my awful rickety daughter. at the end of the day, do i love her? immensely. is she "good"? by no stretch of the imagination.

anyway. this was a terrible use of my time <3 but i do finally feel confident enough in all the parts of a spinning wheel and what they're for that i can brave the dangers of facebook marketplace's "spinning wheel" category without getting too badly scammed! which is pretty valuable in its own right, i guess.

[amxrany]

!! CHAPTER 7 / DIASOMNIA ARC SPOILERS !!

We're going straight to the point here (Jade's Dream):

So for Jade's Dream, we find ourselves in a place called a Submarine Volcano

Floyd says that he's jealous of Silver's UM, because it sounds fun even if he can only do it in his sleep. Silver also thinks that someone like Floyd could easily master his UM, but Jamil just tells him that Floyd would simply turn people's dreams into nightmares 😭

That's when the volcano started going off and Floyd turned into his merform just in time to save us. Because it turns out that the vents on the volcano can release hot water and smoke that contains toxins that are not good for the body, which causes the others what's Jade doing at a place like this.

Floyd asks Idia to give the others mermaid forms but Idia told him that he can't because he would have to create everything from scratch because he has no knowledge about mermaid anatomy, but Floyd just accepts and turns his bioluminescence on

He's doing something called "Counter Illumination", it's used as a way to camouflage from predators by emitting light that resembles the surface. It's also used to communicate to other mermaids and they use it to hide as well, it can also be used to hunt prey.

That's when we find Jade with Azul, who's finding precious metal in the area, they find one but it's stuck in a crack

Ok so apparently Jade likes seeing people suffer in this lmao, but the face Azul makes in this takes me out like wtf is this 😭 (he got burned while trying to grab the metal)

While watching all of this happen, Silver gets reminded of Ruggie, who looks for coins in the vending machine and Floyd just says that even though Azul loves valuable things, he wouldn't go THAT far (he thinks)

That's when Jade calls for Dream! Floyd and THE FACE IS JUST SO STUPID I CAN'T AHAHAHAHAHAHA

Floyd's just like "wtf do i always look this clueless to Jade?" and Yuu is given the option to roast Floyd lmao but yeah we can see that Jade simply dreams of all 3 of them having fun and them listening to Jade's interest

But Floyd wasn't having it, so he proceeds to attack the group. Let's just say Floyd is not happy, and Dream! Azul's confused as to why there are two Floyds that look exactly like each other and Floyd's just like "what do you mean this guy's like a mirror" about his dream self 😭

(yooo these spot the difference games are getting harder than i thought)

Dream! Azul tells Jade to not be fooled by the new Floyd, because the "real" has always been a lovely and charming person, like the fake is pretty much just gaslighting Jade and Jade believes the fake. Floyd gets upset about his brother leaving him, so he attacks both of the fakes but Jade comes in to protect them and they just start fighting

Idia believes that the reason why Jade isn't waking up is not because of his imagination, but rather, his strong beliefs in his mind basically refusing to listen to anyone. Floyd mentions that Jade refuses to listen to their parents. But basically, if Jade refuses to listen, then Floyd will simply let him sleep peacefully

And yeah the fight still goes on and no one has a clue on how to stop it, until Sebek gets the bright idea of using Living Bolt on them and you can say, it was super effective

(By the way one of the accounts I'm browsing through to make these is @/acesuuu on twitter, check them out for their translations btw their thread helped me find the missing info I lacked)

It seems that Sebek's electroshock therapy actually worked, as Jade is starting to recollect some things. But Dream! Azul literally just comes in and pushes Floyd out of the way 😭Dream! Azul asks how his "cute subordinate" is doing and Dream! Floyd is just saying that he can't live without him. That causes Jade to wake up, because he knows damn well they would never say that

Jade defeats both of the fakes and once that was done Floyd approaches him knowing that he's awake...and they proceed to fight again 💀. But they stop and Jade soon hugs Floyd while apologizing to the others about their "sibling quarrel" (which to the others, is way more than that)

Ortho then shows the video to Jade, who agress that the dream's happy ending seems boring. They're aware that the next dream they're going to is Azul, and everyone is just assuming that capitalism is taking over the world in that dream. Before they traveled, Grim complained that they're struggling to fit cuz the Tweels and Sebek are built like closets 😭

And that's it for Jade's Dream, I was supposed to post this yesterday but it was already late in the evening, so to the next day we go

Hope you guys enjoyed!

Next: Azul's Dream Previous: Floyd's Dream

[starrycassi]

Ballister's been through this many times. Ambrosius comes into his room, hysterical, to announce him of some ridiculous upper crust rule or ball or challenge that he's got to participate in. He knows the drill by now; listen to him, reassure him and help him get ready, be it brushing his hair or co-writing a speech for him to give.

The Goldenloin family puts up an act for people to show off Ambrosius and his many qualities every so often. He doesn't really care, not anymore. He used to panic alongside Ambrosius, when they were thirteen. He's seventeen, now, and the novelty of it has worn off — it's just kind of funny, really, to see his boyfriend suffer through hours and hours of whatever bullshit he's supposed to do now.

This upcoming event, however, is doing a number on Ambrosius's nerves. He's pacing back and forth the room, and he hasn't even looked at Ballister yet. His tic — the one in his left eye, is back, and his lips are red and swollen in the places where he's been bitting them. It's barely five am, and Ballister knows that this is going to be a long day.

"You're going to get nauseous if you keep spinning around, Amber" he tries to start the conversation, voice soft and words slow. Between them, Ambrosius has always been the worst when it comes to keeping his emotions under control. Ballister's learnt, by now, that sometimes it's just better to give him space.

"I'm nauseous already. Some spinning won't hurt, I'm sure" he snaps back, almost screaming. Ballister decides that talking to him won't be possible right now, and goes back to the project on his table, making sure to hold the screwdriver at the right angle.

After fifteen minutes or so, Ambrosius finally stops. He whines, letting his body weight drag him down on Ballister's mattress.

"What is it, this time?"

Ambrosius's silent, only whining a bit more after the question, like a wounded dog. That's new. He usually loves to go on rants about how everything is going to go wrong and how the whole world hates him in secret. Ballister puts down the tools, quickly scribbles down what he's supposed to do next to avoid future mistakes, and sits down next to his boyfriend, threading a hand through the other teen's hair.

They stay like that some minutes, Ballister working his way through the blond strands and Ambrosius simply lying there. Ballister's starting to think that he's fallen asleep, when Ambrosius finally speaks up, face still buried in pillows.

"They're marrying me off, Bal"

The world stops spinning.

Ballister goes static. His whole body freezes, and his heart stops beating. He can feel the blood on his veins going cold, so cold his bones feel stuck, too.

This was a expected situation, kind of. Captain Gloria, Ambrosius's mom, had been married off, too. She didn't like her husband in the slightest and they never talked to each other. Ambrosius told him all that.

She had also promised to keep her son away from that predicament. But Ballister knew better than to trust mothers. His own had abandoned him some years ago, after all.

"What... How? What?"

Ambrosius sits up, criss cross, hugging a pillow. He's such a kid. His eyes are already watery, and he's got a red nose, probably from slamming his face into the pillows.

"Not- well, not actually marrying me off. Mum doesn't want that, y'know" He shrugs, looking at his own hands. "But she can't really... just go against tradition, I guess. So, uh, there's going to be a tournament, figths, you know? And I know I'll probably win, she chose combat because she knows I'm good at it, but what if I don't win?"

He takes a deep breath, grunting. Ballister's brain is struggling to catch up, so he can't do much more than nod, encouraging his boyfriend to keep talking.

"It's not going to be like here, only us, cadets and students, where I know I will undoubtedly win. Actual grown ups could get in there, Ballister. My mom's been screaming to anyone and everyone about how ridiculous everything is, but- I guess rules are rules. I haven't slept. We stayed up all night on the phone, she tore down the whole family's library, called all of our lawyers, we tried every single article and law ever written. Nothing. The best we can do is... hope"

"The Captain's right. This is ridiculous, Ambrosius. What do you mean grown ups? Why? That's fucking creepy. Can't you guys just... say no? You're a Goldenloin, surely you-"

Ambrosius grunts, again, tugging at one of his hair strands.

"It's not that easy!" He screams, shutting Ballister up. "I've been getting proposals for... for forever! It's not really a matter of love as it is a matter of money, Bal. I've been getting proposals even from before I was actually born. Political alliances and all that. Mom's been doing her best, I know she has, but when a heir has said "no" enough times, then a duel or something can be called up, and an actual tournament would be way easier than just fighting every single idiot that wants to get my last name!"

Ballister's never been happier to be an orphan commoner than right now. His only worry when it comes to marriage is whether or not he can afford a pretty ring.

It's not like commoners don't marry for money. Arranged marriages were a pretty common thing around him, young kids marrying older people to try and get their families ahead, forced by their parents, their "spouses" or their economical situations. He just... never really had to worry about it, ever since he became a knight.

"That's incredibly fucked up, Ambrosius"

"I know ! I am well aware of how weird this must be for you, Bal. And I have absolutely no backup plan. My mom's confident that I'm winning, because Goldenloins never lose, but I'm not her! She can still beat me when we spar together, what am I going to do if someone else wins? Just... get married?"

Trying to come up with a solution, Ballister stutters and stammers his way through a sentence.

"You could, uh, get married and have a divorce, right?"

"No! Totally no! You don't get it! Whoever wins gets to ask whatever they want from my family, money, land, my hand- whatever, and then that's irrevocable!"

Stressed out, Ballister screechs. Of course he doesn't get it. No one ever bothered to explain this to him. He knew that parents could force their kids to marry (Captain Gloria once told him the story, very drunk and very mad at her departed dad) but not that a whole fucking event could be staged even if the family said no.

"It's not my fault I don't get it, you twat! Do you think the knigth training automatically gave me political marriage bullshit training, too? Well, no, it didn't! I'm so sorry for not knowing you weird ass nobility traditions, Ambrosius, I didn't realize I was supposed to!"

Getting up from the bed, mad at the world for being unfair and at himself for snapping, he runs his hands through his hair, with the impulse to simply rip it all off. It quickly gets replaced by guilt. Ambrosius has done nothing wrong, and here he is, being an asshole instead of helping.

"Amber... Shit, I'm sorry. This is just-"

Chuckling humorlessly, Ambrosius waves his hand in the air. He looks up at Ballister, and shakes his head.

"You're right. Sorry. I just forgot. I always do"

They already went through this, too. Ambrosius is good at keeping Ballister up to date, always happy to explain the situation, but sometimes things just... slip his mind. It isn't anyone's fault, but it's still annoying when it happens.

"Sorry, too. For calling you a twat"

Ballister leans down, tentatively. Ambrosius doesn't hesitate to lift himself up, and they share a quick kiss. All is forgiven.

"So... what now?"

Silently, they both try their best to think. Ballister's mind is blank, just screaming at him to get a sword and go decapitate however wrote the fuckin rules. He ignores that voice, per usual. The fucker's probably dead, by now, anyway.

Ambrosius is the one who gasps, and smiles all of the sudden, so bright that the sun should be jealous. He bounces on the bed a couple of times, clapping to get his boyfriend's attention.

"We're both idiots!"

Ballister frowns, confused. An awkward smile is all he can offer Ambrosius, wondering if his man finally went crazy.

"I see no correlation between our supposed idiocy and the problem at hand, Amber."

"Come on, Bal! This is easy. I have the best plan" he giggles, like a kid that just got a new toy. Ballister can tell that this plan probably will suck and get them in more danger than necessary. And he's so on board. Always on board, when it comes to Ambrosius.

"Which is?"

"You!" Exclaims Ambrosius, rolling his eyes. "You're my plan"

"Excuse me?"

"You're going to compete and win, Bal"

Perhaps he never should've become a knight, that way he never would've fallen in love with this absolute trainwreck of a man. Is it too late to go back to being a random kid and forget about all this? Probably.