#I should try to help everyone. I should know that it’s hidden

[gilmorenights]

I’ve always imagined there being an episode of VAT7K where team radical hears of this fortune teller and spends the episode seeking her out and when they get to her she reveals in a dramatic way that someone is going to betray the team (a lot like The Oracle in the Pjo musical) and that ends the episode.

So next episode we see team radical is on edge and suspecting each other to be the traitor of the group. Obviously it’s Hugo, but he freaks out and just kind of fires back every time someone says something about him (“How do we know Nuru won’t steal the totems for herself once we complete the quest? I bet Varian has something to hide”) and he does it in a way that just kind of fans the flames.

Varian is the only one not acting like this because he is CONVINCED the traitor is him. At this point in their journey, his past as The Alchemist is still hidden and he intended on keeping it that way until this whole debacle. Now he has to watch his whole team fall apart and accuse each other of betraying the team all the while knowing he’s the one who betrayed them.

The last straw is when they’re sitting around the campfire and someone accuses Yong. That’s when he finally snaps and is like “It’s me, okay? I’m the traitor!” Then there’s this whole dramatic lament he does about his past and how he’s a terrible person for not telling them and he understands if they don’t want to help him anymore. Nuru and Yong are understandably shocked, but Hugo? Hugo just sits there quietly, trying to figure out what that weird feeling in his chest is. It almost feels like guilt, but no. That can’t be. Hugo doesn’t feel guilt. If anything, he should feel relieved that his secret is safe.

Eventually, Nuru takes Varian’s hand and smiles softly at him. She tells him he’s not a traitor for keeping this from them, for trying to hide something he isn’t proud of. She says everyone in the group betrayed each other by turning on and accusing one another the way they did. They’re all traitors to each other, and they should all learn to do better.

This is the turning point where I believe Team Radical officially becomes a real team. Before this they were just a group of kids with their own interests in mind, but now they’re a unit. There’s a new, unspoken level of trust and unity between them and it shows in the way they handle the rest of their journey. I think this is also the point of the show where Hugo starts doubting his mission just a bit. It’s not enough to make him want to back out (yet), but it is when the first seed of doubt is planted in his mind.

Sorry for the ramble I’ve just had this idea for so long and had to get it out somewhere 😭

[kattyfics]

Hidden Injury

summary: During your journey as the victor of the 68th Hunger games, you grew close to the darling Finnick Odair, with some unfamiliar feelings starting to bloom. What will happen to you two as you are thrust into the hell hole you thought you escaped from.

wc: 1k

warnings: blood, angst, gore?

“Let the 75th annual Hunger Games Commence”

The cannon blew and you immediately dove into the water. You never were the best swimmer, but you were good enough to get to dry land and reside there until your allies arrived. It was a smart move to avoid the blood bath, the only downside is you don’t have a weapon to defend yourself. Instead, you have to trust Finnick to get what you need.

A million thoughts race through your head. You decide to climb a dense tree close to shore so you can scan the area safely. What feels like hours pass till you can spot people coming back to the beach. While waiting, you counted 7 cannons, not bad, but you can’t help but worry that one of them was Finnick.

A few minutes later you spot Johanna approaching shore with Wiress and Beetee. You quietly hop down from your tree and slowly make your way towards them so as not to scare them. Johanna quickly spots you and runs toward me.

“Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” She exclaims as the married couple approaches.

“I was hiding in that tree. I left the bloodbath before I could get caught up, or get any weapons.” You sigh defeatedly, knowing now that you probably should have tried to get something from the cornucopia.

“It’s alright, I got a couple throwing knives here.” Joanna says as she hands a few over. “We should get going though, being out in the open like this can lead the career pack right to us. Nuts and Bolts are terrified of them.” She whispers the last part.

You guys make quick work heading into the forest, trying to sketch a layout of it along the way. Your main goal was to find the rest of your group. It was hard in the dense trees, but with the few weapons and physical capabilities we had, it was better this way.

It had been a few hours now with Johanna leading the four of you through the jungle. You were all dehydrated, after coming to the conclusion that the body of water in the center of the arena was salt, you were out of ideas. You suddenly feel a few drops of wetness in your hair. Apparently everyone else did too, as Johanna cheered at the thought of water and opened her mouth.

You look up and just as you were about to open your mouth for a taste, the color red flooded your vision. Blood rain.

You try to get the thick liquid out of your eyes. Wiping your face and failing, instead spreading the blood everywhere. Somewhere amongst the chaos, Johanna yells something and you all start running.

Still struggling from the persistent rain, you couldn’t see when a fallen tree branch appeared in your path. You sliced your leg open, stumbling a little and falling over as you do. You don’t register the pain, your adrenaline too high to think straight.

Johanna runs back and pulls you up to continue running.

After what feels like forever, you finally make it back to the beach. Able to wipe the blood out of your eyes, you notice a group a couple of feet away from you. It seems they’ve spotted you too, as they’re running towards you with worried expressions.

You don’t notice who the group is until Finnick is holding your face in his hands and checking for injuries.

“I’m ok Finn, I promise.” You say as you take his hands in your own.

His face seems to calm at that. “Let’s help you into the water, ok?” He takes your hand and starts to lead the way to the water.

A few steps in and you feel a burning sensation in your leg. A few more and you’re limping heavily. It’s not soon after you fall over, lightheaded and dizzy.

“Sweetheart, oh my god, are you ok?” Finnick panics and starts checking the rest of your body for injuries.

Your hearing fades in and out as everything becomes blurry. Finnick becomes quiet permanently as you black out.

——

There’s too much blood, they can’t figure out which is your and where it’s coming from.

Finnick picks you up in his arms and carries you into the water. He cleans off your arms and torso, looking for any wounds on the way. Then he reaches your legs. A long cut a few inches deep runs vertically across the calf of your right leg, leading to your lower thigh.

“I need medical supplies right now!” Finnick yells, “Bandages, alcohol, gauze whatever!”

You were gonna need stitches for sure. Finnick runs back to shore and Peeta meets him halfway, holding some bandages.

“Is this all?” Finnick observes the scarce supplies.

“I’m afraid so.” Peeta looks guilty, “Is she gonna need stitches.”

“Yeah…”

You were friendly with Peeta the few weeks you knew him. You grew close during training and were the first person he wanted to ally with. Growing as a mother figure to him, you meant a lot.

You start to stir in Finnick’s arms as he makes sure to set you on the blanket Katniss laid out.

“Hey honey, how are you feeling?” He speaks with a gentle voice, carefully ripping open your pants for easier access.

“It hurts..” You whimper. Johanna brings over the canteen Peeta had given her for water to disinfect your wound.

“I know, it’s ok it’ll be over in a minute.” Finnick first rinses his hands off, then pours the water over your wound, going in with the cleanest cloth he could find to rub the dirt and grime off.

You hiss in pain as your eyes tear up, clenching your jaw and digging your nails into the ground.

“The worst is over, time for bandages.” Finnick starts to slowly wrap the bandages around your leg, being careful not to directly touch it. “You’re gonna need stitches, but this is the best we can do until a sponsor sends something.”

Throughout this whole process Finnick has been so gentle and caring. Making sure not to cause as much pain as he has to.

“I love you.” You whisper teary eyed as he continues the bandages. He looks up into your eyes, still going.

“I love you too.”

𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹𖦹

[little-forest-goblin]

Its getting hot in here

Synopsis: You and five have known eachother for the longest time. You and him were tighter than a knot. The thing is you and him have hidden feelings you guys haven’t addressed for a little to god damn long and now its boiled over.

Warnings - MDNI 18+ P in v, creampie (yes i know i hate the word too. Also WRAP IT UP YOU HORNY FUCKS) dirty talk, oral (female receiving) cum eating, overstimulation, cum eating and bad grammar

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———————————————————————

It was hot as shit.

The summers where unforgiving this time of year. The blazing heat making everything unbearably stuffy. It was too hot to go out. It was a heat warming on everyone’s phone.

you and five were currently in your apartment living room. Fans on, pointing you guys way. They were on the highest setting yet it did little to nothing to help. It seemed to only blow hot air but y’all needed something cold to make the heat go away considering your air conditioner was busted up.

Five fanned himself with a notebook he found lying on your table “God, why did you have to break your air conditioner”

you looked at him annoyed “I broke it?! yeah cause i just went outside with a wrench and banged on the machine all to spite you”

he looked at you “You might as well have. Its a all a plot to spite me”

you rolled your eyes and laid back on the couch trying to get some cold air. Any cold air at all. Fives eyes traveled to you. He couldn’t help but look you over. The way your hair was up and out of your face, a light sheen of sweat on your body, your chest softly rising and falling all of these served to make him lose his mind firth. He swallowed softly

five spoke up breaking the moment of silence “We should get dressed into something more comfortable for this unbearable heat”

you nodded “yeah your right but what are you gonna wear? This isn’t exactly your house”

he stood and took off his suit jacket “Its alright i can make do. You go get changed into something more comfortable.”

you nodded and stood heading into your bedroom and closing the door. You went to your closet opening it up to look at what you might have. You weren’t one to have many pairs of shorts and tank tops. It never usually got this blazing hot. You looked through your closet. You found a pair of shorts and a spaghetti strapped tank luckily. Bad news was the shorts are a little tight. They were those tight gym shorts that are form fitting. you cursed everything above and below. How could they. You reluctantly put those bad boys on and headed out the room only to be met with a delicious sight.

Five had taken off his suit jacked and vest. His white button up had a few buttons unbuttoned and the tie was off neatly set on the table. His shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows and casually sat back on the couch. What a scrumptious fucking sight.

five’s eyes widened seeing what you were wearing. Oh fuck me sideways. tight gym shorts and a tight tanktop? Oh who sent you to torture him? those shorts made your ass more defined and that tanktop that was just a little tight against your boobs was not doing him any favors to make it less hot in here.

You caught him staring your cheeks went into a light blush “What? what are you staring at, weirdo?”

he snapped his eyes to you “N-nothing. Sorry.”

you chuckled nervously and went ahead and sat down on the couch infront of the fans again. Five swallowed. You tried to keep your eyes to yourself or on his face but they ended up on his body again. The way he made his suit had you almost feral.

Eventually five couldn’t take it and he stood from the couch infront of”You mind if i use your shower?”

you raised a brow at the sudden movement. you nodded “Sure but i gotta ask how come you arent at the academy? Its always cold there”

he looked to you before he headed into your bedroom where your bathroom was connected to “Im not going back there. The only reason its cold is cause dads heart is probably still in there”

you laughed at that although it was probably true. You heard stories of how shitty his father was and honestly…you want nothing to do with it.

you watched him head into the bedroom heading straight for the bathroom. You sighed and waited infront of the fans again.

It went on for a while until you groaned. How long is this going to take!!

[Meanwhile five]

His dick was rock fucking hard despite the shower being at a low temperature threatening on fridge level cold. All he could think about was you. his hand made its way to his cock slowly stroking. His head fell back against the tiled walls. He gave it a soft squeeze making precum come out and drip down the side.

no matter how long he was going at it he for some reason could not make it go down.

[Back to you]

god what the hell was taking him so long! God he took forever. Your head fell back against the couch. You were trying to think of something to distract yourself but it always ended up back to him.

you and him have been friends for a really long time. Even helping him solve apocalypse’s and stop the end of the world. You and him have been each other’s rock when you needed someone. You and him have poured your hearts out to each other about your problems and what eats away at you guys.

you have had to hide your feelings for the longest time despite how deep they ran.you didnt wanna ruin anything if the feelings where infact not reciprocated. So you stuck to daydreaming. Little did you know the man you wanted also wanted you so badly that he is currently wanking in your shower like a desperate deprived man.

you sat on the couch thinking. God he is in YOUR shower. What did he look like? god he must be beautiful. you tried to shake those thoughts away and try not to be a perv for your best friend but they always ran right back to him. You felt your panties get soaked with your arousal. You groaned. “God damn that beautiful man”

as you day dreamed you thought of something. “oh shit what if he is in there and he is scrambling to find a towel for the last 20 minutes and im just an asshole sitting here?” you scrambled up and went to your dryer to get a towel and went back towards the bedroom “Dont worry i got a towel! im co-“

just as you opened the door you ran right smack into five and fell backwards onto the floor. You looked up and was met with a glorious sight.

five was naked except for a towel wrapped around his waist. his body was lithe with indents showing where some muscle lay under the skin. There was some old healed scars around his body in certain places from his time as an assassin and saving the world time after time.

You swallowed and your eyes traveled up his body till your eyes locked with his. his chest was heaving. Fuck there you were looking beautiful. Flustered, shocked, nervous…turned on. His cock was visibly hard behind the towel wrapped around his waist.

he looked down at you and at the towel now splayed on the floor and back to you “Are you alright?” he was trying to a desperately to keep his composure but seeing your flushed cheeks

you nodded softly looking at him in his glory. There was a moment of silence. Maddening silence. Deafening silence. Absolutely fucking- god damn it he couldn’t take it!

“Y/n i dont wanna hide it anymore. I want you so fucking badly, y/n.” he panted his chest heaving his eyes dark with lust “i’ve loved you for so fucking long”

your heart beat so fast and hard. oh my god he loved you too? holy shit. you swallowed “you…you do?”

he growled “God do i gotta spell it out on paper, darling?” he panted “I. fucking. love. you.”

you were frozen in silence for a little bit. Your body hot and needy. You swallowed “I love you too and i have for the longest time as well. You have been there for me since day one five. I want you to so badly. Do you want me too?”

he chuckled darkly and unwrapped his towel “You tell me” his cock sprung from underneath the towel. It stood hard and leaking. God he was a beautiful sight. he was a good 6 and a 1/2 inches. I guess it was true. What god didn’t give in height he gave in length.

your mouth went dry as hell. he was beautiful. almost graceful looking. he reached down and picked you right on up making you squeak in surprise and carried you to the bed and threw you down on it. “Baby as much as i like these tight shorts and tanktop combo you got going on id much rather see them on your floor” his hands went to the hem of your shorts pulling them a little “Can i?”

you nodded swallowing softly as he pulled the shorts off and threw them unceremoniously somewhere on the floor. he could cum just from the sight of you in your panties. They were not by all means lacy and Victoria secret model worthy but they are beautiful on you. Thin fabric stretched over your skin giving you this dainty but empowering look.

you were quickly stripping off your tanktop and bra letting your breasts free. His eyes were quickly on them. He growled and dove in to kiss the valley between them. “Fuck you’re gorgeous, baby. This body of yours is gonna kill me.” his hands went to one breast kneading and pinching the nipple making your back arch and soft moans fall from you.

Your hands traveled into his hair lightly tugging on it making him growl. his hot tongue licked and sucked on your nipple making you whimper. You pulled him up to kiss him. he broke away from the kiss to kiss down your neck

“you have to let me taste you darling. Please…im desperate to have you”

you nodded complying immediately. You wanted him so badly. your brain clouded and fogged over.

he was quickly kissing down your body till he got to the edge of your panties and with his teeth pulled them down his eyes flickering up to you and never leaving yours.

“f-five…” you said breathlessly

He ceased all movement “Do you want me to stop?”

you shook your head frantically “n-no…don’t. Please don’t stop”

you smirked and let go of your underwear between his teeth kissing at your lower tummy “Good girl”

his lips were hot against your skin. Hot and boiling and sexy.

He pulled the rest of your underwear down and threw them aside. he took your thighs and slowly spread them revealing your soaked pussy to his hungry eyes. He kissed at your inner thighs “Your beautiful, my love. Fuck. Your pussy is so wet for me.”

you moaned softly. As he continues to kiss at your thighs your moans turned to whines. your hand going to his hair insisting he goes to where you want him to go. He chuckled

“Eager baby?”

you nodded “Very. Please no more teasing five. We have edged eachother for a couple years now i think enough is enough”

he looked up at you from between your legs. “Your right, enough is enough” his face was then buried in your pussy. His tongue pointed straight to your clit licking and sucking.

your back arched off the bed and your fingers tangled in his hair wanting him”Oh shit- five!”

he smirked against your skin. Your moans only served to make him become more insistent. His fingers made there way into your pussy. His fingers thrusting in time and curling to hit that spot inside you that you couldnt reach sometimes.

your thighs where shaking and he ate you insistantly. “Five! fuck just like that!” your fingers tangling in his hair wanting more.

he pulled you closer to him. his fingers plunging in and out of you in time with his tongue. “So fucking sweet, my love”

you felt your belly tighten as hot courses of pleasure pulsed through your body. Blinding pleasure coursed through you causing your toes to curl and your fingers to hold onto his hair a little tighter and the bed sheets a little tighter. You felt the coil getting ready to snap. “f-five..f-fuck oh god”

he heard your sounds and really focused and with a few more curls of his fingers inside you you where cumming. He drank your nectar as if it was nectar from fruits made by gods. He didnt miss a drop. he pulled back, his face soaked in your essence. He smirked and brought his fingers to your mouth pushing them in time with “taste yourself, baby”

You sucked on his fingers as you looked him in the eyes. Your eyes showing love and submission. He pulled his fingers out and wiped away at his mouth. His cock was leaking and hard. It almost looked painful. He took his cock in his hand and stroked pulling back the head showing the suckable head

“I gotta have you now baby…please…”

you looked up at him her eyes pulled from his cock “Than have me, five. Ive been yours for years.”

With that he crawled ontop of you and kissed you. You kissed back immediately.

He pulled back and looked you in the eyes “If you ever want me to stop you have to tell me. I dont wanna hurt you okay?”

you nodded

he grabbed your jaw making you look him in the eyes “I mean it y/n. I need to hear your words cause i will not be able to contain myself anymore and i NEED you to understand.”

you swallowed. You’ve never seen him rough before. It only served to make you wetter “I-i understand”

he smirked “Good girl” with that he lined his cock up and pushed inside slowly at first to let you adjust. you hissed sharply and your back arched up to him

“f-fuck your tight”

your hands went to his chest traveling to his shoulder and your arms wrapped around his neck. You kissed at his neck, your fingers carding through his hair

this caused him to whine a little his hips stuttering ever so slightly “Fuck if you keep that up i wont be able to hold back”

you looked up at him from his neck. “Then dont.”

he looked into your eyes asking for silent confirmation. When he saw you were more than ready he groaned and began to move. At first it was slow but hard thrusts but soon skin upon skin reverberated off the walls.

his cock plunged in and out of your pussy. You pussy gushing around him making it easier for him to move. He made sounds of pleasure along with you. your moans could be heard in his ear serving to make him more insistent. His hands found your thighs and pushed them apart more “Fuck your cunt is so tight! god your just sucking me in arent you? greedy little thing”

your moans where loud and clear. They were right in his ear. Your legs wrapped around him pulling him in deeper. your hands in his hair and on his back scratching down it leaving bright red marks. “Fuck five! oh god yes right there! im yours im so very fucking yours!”

he chuckled darkly as his hips collided with yours “Yeah your mine huh? im yours too baby. Good fucking girl.”

your pussy tightened at the praise. your walls fluttering around him. it made him hiss in pleasure “fuck you’re so close baby i can feel it. I got you baby come on cum for me”

white hot pleasure coursed through you. Your second orgasm making you almost delirious. You pussy gushed around him.

he grunted as you tightened. His hips did not stop. The delicious overstimulated getting to you. “f-five..please…”

he panted “i know baby i know j-just give me a few more moments baby. Fuck im gonna fill you up…ah shit, shit, SHIT!” his cum flooded you, painting your walls white. The warmth spread through you and you whimpered and laid back in the bed.

He panted above you. A thin sheen of sweat covered you guys. Afterglow settling in quickly leaving you both golden. after a few moments he leaned down and kissed you softly and sweetly. Your lips moving in perfect rhythm

He gently pulled back and smiled “Let me get a towel real quick” he pulled back from you and stood from the bed. His legs almost gave out a little himself but he caught himself on the table and wall.

you chuckled a little “Here let me come help you” you moved to get out of the bed

he tsk’d softly and stood straight and gently pushed you back onto the bed “I got it i know where your stuff is” he smiled and went into the bathroom. He came back out with a damp warm washcloth and some fruity vitamin gummies.

“Here take one or two of those” he handed you some gummy vitamins “those should help replenish you” he sat down next to you and wiped away at your legs

you smiled softly “You really don’t have to you know.”

he looked at you like you were crazy “I do not wanna hear that from you again. This part is important. i…i want to care for you”

your eyes and smile softened. You knew how much he secretly wanted and craved to care for others. It was just hidden under all those walls he builds around others. “I love you, five”

he stopped and looked to you a blush forming on his cheeks despite they already knew they loved eachother now “i…i love you too, y/n”

once you took the vitamin gummies and were cleaned up, you and him laid in bed cuddling together. He pulled you in close to his chest. His arms wrapped around you. your arms wrapped around him holding him just as close both of you snuggling into each other.

“I love you, y/n. i always will”

“I love you too, five. I always will forever and always”

you and him fell asleep like this. Cuddling and embraced in each others love.

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Hello my lovelies! I ended up getting this story back despite accidentally deleting it. I don’t know and you know what i’m just grateful. i love you and be safe out there 💋 😘

[passerinesoncaffeine]

the irony of one the first main things established about omori as a character is that he's known for his great memory as if he hasn't lost the entire fucking plot repeatedly for years.

like he has a great memory!! if you don't take into account He's Actually The God Of Repression.

[medicinemane]

.

[moth-mart]

Outlaw status reachieveeed 🎉🎉🎉

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

average United States contains 1000s of pet tigers in backyards" factoid actualy [sic] just statistical error. average person has 0 tigers on property. Activist Georg, who lives the U.S. Capitol & makes up over 10,000 each day, has purposefully been spreading disinformation adn [sic] should not have been counted

I have a big mad today, folks. It's a really frustrating one, because years worth of work has been validated... but the reason for that fucking sucks.

For almost a decade, I've been trying to fact-check the claim that there "are 10,000 to 20,000 pet tigers/big cats in backyards in the United States." I talked to zoo, sanctuary, and private cat people; I looked at legislation, regulation, attack/death/escape incident rates; I read everything I could get my hands on. None of it made sense. None of it lined up. I couldn't find data supporting anything like the population of pet cats being alleged to exist. Some of you might remember the series I published on those findings from 2018 or so under the hashtag #CrouchingTigerHiddenData. I've continued to work on it in the six years since, including publishing a peer reviewed study that counted all the non-pet big cats in the US (because even though they're regulated, apparently nobody bothered to keep track of those either).

I spent years of my life obsessing over that statistic because it was being used to push for new federal legislation that, while well intentioned, contained language that would, and has, created real problems for ethical facilities that have big cats. I wrote a comprehensive - 35 page! - analysis of the issues with the then-current version of the Big Cat Public Safety Act in 2020. When the bill was first introduced to Congress in 2013, a lot of groups promoted it by fear mongering: there's so many pet tigers! they could be hidden around every corner! they could escape and attack you! they could come out of nowhere and eat your children!! Tiger King exposed the masses to the idea of "thousands of abused backyard big cats": as a result the messaging around the bill shifted to being welfare-focused, and the law passed in 2022.

The Big Cat Public Safety Act created a registry, and anyone who owned a private cat and wanted to keep it had to join. If they did, they could keep the animal until it passed, as long as they followed certain strictures (no getting more, no public contact, etc). Don’t register and get caught? Cat is seized and major punishment for you. Registering is therefore highly incentivized. That registry closed in June of 2023, and you can now get that registration data via a Freedom of Information Act request.

Guess how many pet big cats were registered in the whole country?

97.

Not tens of thousands. Not thousands. Not even triple digits. 97.

And that isn't even the right number! Ten USDA licensed facilities registered erroneously. That accounts for 55 of 97 animals. Which leaves us with 42 pet big cats, of all species, in the entire country.

Now, I know that not everyone may have registered. There's probably someone living deep in the woods somewhere with their illegal pet cougar, and there's been at least one random person in Texas arrested for trying to sell a cub since the law passed. But - and here's the big thing - even if there are ten times as many hidden cats than people who registered them - that's nowhere near ten thousand animals. Obviously, I had some questions.

Guess what? Turns out, this is because it was never real. That huge number never had data behind it, wasn't likely to be accurate, and the advocacy groups using that statistic to fearmonger and drive their agenda knew it... and didn't see a problem with that.

Allow me to introduce you to an article published last week.

This article is good. (Full disclose, I'm quoted in it). It's comprehensive and fairly written, and they did their due diligence reporting and fact-checking the piece. They talked to a lot of people on all sides of the story.

But thing that really gets me?

Multiple representatives from major advocacy organizations who worked on the Big Cat Publix Safety Act told the reporter that they knew the statistics they were quoting weren't real. And that they don't care. The end justifies the means, the good guys won over the bad guys, that's just how lobbying works after all. They're so blase about it, it makes my stomach hurt. Let me pull some excerpts from the quotes.

"Whatever the true number, nearly everyone in the debate acknowledges a disparity between the actual census and the figures cited by lawmakers. “The 20,000 number is not real,” said Bill Nimmo, founder of Tigers in America. (...) For his part, Nimmo at Tigers in America sees the exaggerated figure as part of the political process. Prior to the passage of the bill, he said, businesses that exhibited and bred big cats juiced the numbers, too. (...) “I’m not justifying the hyperbolic 20,000,” Nimmo said. “In the world of comparing hyperbole, the good guys won this one.”

"Michelle Sinnott, director and counsel for captive animal law enforcement at the PETA Foundation, emphasized that the law accomplished what it was set out to do. (...) Specific numbers are not what really matter, she said: “Whether there’s one big cat in a private home or whether there’s 10,000 big cats in a private home, the underlying problem of industry is still there.”"

I have no problem with a law ending the private ownership of big cats, and with ending cub petting practices. What I do have a problem with is that these organizations purposefully spread disinformation for years in order to push for it. By their own admission, they repeatedly and intentionally promoted false statistics within Congress. For a decade.

No wonder it never made sense. No wonder no matter where I looked, I couldn't figure out how any of these groups got those numbers, why there was never any data to back any of the claims up, why everything I learned seemed to actively contradict it. It was never real. These people decided the truth didn't matter. They knew they had no proof, couldn't verify their shocking numbers... and they decided that was fine, if it achieved the end they wanted.

So members of the public - probably like you, reading this - and legislators who care about big cats and want to see legislation exist to protect them? They got played, got fed false information through a TV show designed to tug at heartstrings, and it got a law through Congress that's causing real problems for ethical captive big cat management. The 20,000 pet cat number was too sexy - too much of a crisis - for anyone to want to look past it and check that the language of the law wouldn't mess things up up for good zoos and sanctuaries. Whoops! At least the "bad guys" lost, right? (The problems are covered somewhat in the article linked, and I'll go into more details in a future post. You can also read my analysis from 2020, linked up top.)

Now, I know. Something something something facts don't matter this much in our post-truth era, stop caring so much, that's just how politics work, etc. I’m sorry, but no. Absolutely not.

Laws that will impact the welfare of living animals must be crafted carefully, thoughtfully, and precisely in order to ensure they achieve their goals without accidental negative impacts. We have a duty of care to ensure that. And in this case, the law also impacts reservoir populations for critically endangered species! We can't get those back if we mess them up. So maybe, just maybe, if legislators hadn't been so focused on all those alleged pet cats, the bill could have been written narrowly and precisely.

But the minutiae of regulatory impacts aren't sexy, and tiger abuse and TV shows about terrible people are. We all got misled, and now we're here, and the animals in good facilities are already paying for it.

I don't have a conclusion. I'm just mad. The public deserves to know the truth about animal legislation they're voting for, and I hope we all call on our legislators in the future to be far more critical of the data they get fed.

[targaryen-dynasty]

SET ME ALIGHT AGAIN.

Cregan Stark x female!Targaryen!Reader (Part 2 here)

"It was on request of your younger brother's small council that Lord Cregan Stark agreed to take you to the North with him to prevent you from succumbing to grief like your aunt did. And now it's at his hands that the haze in your eyes is replaced by an emotion you haven't felt in so long, an emotion he’s giving back to you. And you let it flood you."

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MDNI; p in v, oral (fem receiving), angst (?), breeding kink, size kink, size difference, romantic fucking in front of the fireplace, afab reader, post dance of the dragons

WORDS: 4.8 K

NOTES: I dedicate this to @sylasthegrim. You're not only one of the few people I really grew fond of in the short time we truly got to know each other, but since both our minds basically came down to the same idea, this is for you! Thanks for beta reading this. 💕

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

You’ve been in Winterfell for a moon’s turn by now, and have quickly noticed that the ancestral castle possesses a beauty and calmness the Red Keep can be jealous of. But even that isn’t enough to make you feel at home – as if you could ever call a place your home again. Not after you’ve witnessed almost everyone in your family, no matter whether you liked them or not, perish at the hands of each other. 

It was on request of your younger brother, now dubbed King Aegon the third, or rather of his small council that Lord Cregan Stark agreed to take you to the North with him to prevent you from succumbing to grief like your aunt did. And while you’re grateful for the chance to flee the one place that has caused you more hurt than good, riding in a carriage up to the far North like a commoner wasn’t exactly pleasant. 

But how else should you have gotten there when your precious mount died along its kind as the common people stormed the Dragonpit?

For the past month, you’ve very rarely seen the sun – or anyone else than your maids. 

Your days are spent in your chambers, not leaving the safety of the Guest House as you often try to find the sleep you can’t seem to get at night. And during the night, when the Hour of the Owl strikes and no light other than that of the moon reaches Winterfell, one often finds you wandering the quiet halls of the castle. Sometimes one even spots you outside in the Godswood, regardless of the low temperatures that make the three pools fed by an underground hot spring look even more inviting. 

But warmth and comfort are never what you’re after. 

You feel incredibly daring tonight, sitting beneath the ancient weirwood tree on one of its roots. Although there is a thick fur coat draped around your frame, the thin nightgown beneath does not allow you to be kept as warm as one usually desires, your bare feet hidden inside of the coat not a big help either. 

Tiptoeing barefoot through the snow was the hardest part, but it was worth it as it gave you exactly what your body longs for. 

You’re far too absorbed by the reflection of the moon dancing on the pool of black water beneath the tree, and the peaceful allure of the snow-covered night that you don’t notice you’re not alone anymore.  

“Princess?” a husky voice rings out from the shadows, one you’d even recognize in a room full of loud and drunken men. 

Almost as if he doesn’t want to startle you, the tall frame of the Lord of Winterfell approaches you without any sudden moves, becoming more visible with the moonlight shining down on him. “What are you doing out here this late?”

Only when he’s stopping not far away from you do you avert your eyes from him to the water again. “I could ask you the same, Lord Stark,” you reply softly. 

A chuckle rumbles in his chest at your remark, and you can’t help the tint of heat hearing it brings to your cheeks. “Indeed you could,” he says. “I have not slept well, and the night has a peaceful allure. But you should not be out in the open without any guards, especially not this late at night.”

You drag your index finger through the snow at your side, drawing a mindless pattern in the dark as you do not pay any mind to his words. “And why is that, Lord Stark?” you ask, a certain snarkiness to your tone. “There is nothing worse that could happen to me than what I have already endured.”

Cregan sighs, and even in the dim light you can make out that he’s scratching his stubble covered chin. “And yet, should something else happen to you, I would not like myself for neglecting you and not protecting you just as I have sworn to the king,” he explains. “Besides, there is a cold chill in the air that I can not believe you are not feeling right now.”

“Perhaps that is the answer you’ve been looking for, my lord,” you mumble. “Perhaps I came here to feel something.”

The Wolf of the North doesn’t immediately answer you. Instead, there lingers a pause between you. But it’s not uncomfortable or feels as though it doesn't pass, no, you find yourself to actually enjoy his company. 

His next words, however, even surprise you as you didn’t think he was capable of it. “Feeling the cold of the snow has its way to make one feel alive, that much is true,” he agrees, and then looks up to the dark sky. “You wish to feel something else than the pain of the absence of the people you’ve lost in this war, I understand… I think.”

His words make the feeling of emptiness, the hollowing ache of loss just worse, while at the same time, he seems to know the feeling of craving pain when you’re just so used to it. 

“This cold bite, the chill that lingers on the skin — no one should want to feel it, Princess. It makes even my bones shake, do you know that? Surely you must be shivering, and we should be getting you inside. I should be getting you inside.”

You know he‘s right. While his words are blunt in nature, they are very much that of truth. You shouldn’t be out here, nor should you want to be out here. There‘s nothing to enjoy about this cold chill and the snow, not when you‘re as sparsely dressed as you are. You‘re not yet used to the chill of Winterfell, of the North. 

Cregan offers you his hand, but you‘re still hesitant to take it. Albeit you reach out, your significantly smaller hand hovers over his, not yet grabbing it. “You‘re not exactly wearing proper attire to be out in this wretched cold for very long,“ he remarks. “Let me help you get up, your feet must be in agony by now.“

“And what if I don‘t want to?“

“Then I will still get you up.“ There is a tinge of amusement in his voice now, seeing this little bit of rebelliousness from you, your strength of mind. Even if he doesn’t exactly approve of it. “I shall simply pick you up myself, throw you over my shoulder, and carry you inside to your chambers, even though I‘d get you quite angry and don‘t imagine you want me to do just that.“

You don’t believe he actually has the gumption to do something like that at first, although you know he’s able to muster a decent amount of strength that would easily allow him to lift you up. But then, you wonder if he would truly do it if challenged. “Try that, if you dare, my lord.”

He lets out a snort of amusement, enjoying the teasing that slowly shapes between you two. It still is a challenge, and as a man of his station, he could never let words like this go unspoken. “Oh, I dare, Princess.” 

Putting forth his arm, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and easily pulls you forwards onto your feet without applying too much pressure. You’re certainly caught off guard by his actual willingness to lift you up, and a squeal escapes your lips before you’re tossed on his strong shoulder as if you are some silly, helpless girl. 

Cregan carries you through the Godswood and towards the Guest House, though you don’t resist too much as you’re hanging there over his shoulder – a part of you is grateful you don’t have to walk through the snow with your bare feet once more. 

“Lord Stark, put me down at once!” you demand with a little twinge of laughter in your voice. You feel so light, much lighter than you imagine he’s used to lifting up, almost as if it’s taken all of the pressure off your shoulders. 

But when there doesn’t come an answer from him, you grow slightly frustrated. “What if anyone sees, you madman!” you remark, embarrassment warming your cheeks. 

“Madman? That’s rich coming from the woman who was willing to freeze to death in the snow,” he says jokingly, approaching the large doors. “Who do you think could see us at this hour, princess? The rats? And what if they do? What if someone sees me carrying the poor princess, who had the gall to get out of her bed after midnight and wander the Godswood while in her nightgown?” Although there is amusement in his voice, you also notice the faintest hint of flirtation laced within. “Will they judge me for carrying her, or would they judge her for her imprudent midnight excursion?”

You stay silent thrown over his shoulder, not sure how to reply. You thought you had a good comeback, but it seems Cregan is one step ahead of you. The flirtatious teasing you’ve heard catches you off guard, not expecting to hear it from him at all. It makes your cheeks flush with even more embarrassment when you notice that he’s actually right. But you don’t want to admit the truth in what he’s said. 

“You mock me, but you shall see there would be much scandal if someone were to see this,” you retort, trying to keep calm as you’re now a little bit flustered by these sudden developments. “Besides,” you say, trying to remain unbothered and nonchalant, “who says I won’t tell a tale of you being the imprudent one?”

“Ah, you little rascal,” Cregan replies with a chuckle, giving your thigh a tight squeeze. “I see you’d find a way to turn the tides and have it end up with me being the bad guy, taking my chances on a vulnerable woman in the guise of protecting her.”

You’re clearly enjoying the teasing a tad too much, enjoying these quick and witty back-to-backs with him, taking your mind off of your grief. Drawing in a deep breath, you hold onto Cregan’s thick coat. “What would you have been protecting me from, Lord Stark?” you ask with feigned innocence. “Were the trees too menacing that you just had to sweep me off my feet to carry me away from their clutches?”

“No, I am afraid it was not the trees that had me worried, Princess,” Cregan replies as he brings you further into the Guest House, easily opening the door to the sleeping quarters with one hand. “The cold was the greater menace, and it had you in its grasp.”

Your words die in your throat when he puts you down on your bed, the soft furs very welcomed beneath your cold feet. You look up at him with wide eyes and a heaving chest as he towers over your significantly smaller frame, and you wait for him to make the next move. 

There’s a moment of silence between you, obviously he’s considering his next words. 

And boy do they disappoint you. “I shall make sure a fire is lit for you to warm yourself, princess,” he says, turning around to approach the hearth on the other side of the room. 

Cregan crouches down to build and start a small fire in the hearth that should last the night, not wanting you to stay too cold. But you wouldn’t be a thoroughbred dragon if it didn’t mean for you to take any risks. And so you get onto your cold feet, the coat still draped around your shoulders sliding down to the ground. 

Feeling a bit too exposed too quickly, you grab one of the thick fur blankets laying on your bed instead and wrap it around your frame, before you tiptoe towards the large wolf kneeling in front of the fireplace. 

“I have something different in mind,” you speak softly. Cregan, startled by your words and your sudden approach, turns around and faces you as he rises to his feet. You reach and bury your hands in the collar of his coat, the blanket falling to the ground in the process, and when you use your grip to pull him close, you find that he does not shy away in the least – if anything, he follows the tug to connect your lips in a heated kiss. 

He brings his large hands to your waist with ease, and presses his body against yours. The wolf feels like he’s drowning in you, in your lips, your warmth, your presence and scent. Wanting to lose himself in the moment, in you, his hands wander lower to your hips. 

“I did not expect you to do this tonight,” he breathes against your lips, breaking the silence. 

“And I did not expect some things from you tonight either,” you reply, breathlessly, voice breaking with every breath you take. “Is that a bad thing?”

His voice is low and smooth as he speaks, shaking his head. “Quite the contrary.” There is a flirtatious smile on his lips, and a playfulness you haven’t seen before in his gray eyes. It’s as if that small spark between you has quickly evolved into an inferno that now burns bright in the both of you. 

It’s a fierce and burning kiss when your lips connect once more, fueled by the fires coursing through your veins. You release a soft whimper with his large paws trailing over your sides, feeling the fabric of your nightgown. 

“If we continue this, I won’t be able to stop myself,” he rasps.

You tilt your head back to look at him, a cheeky grin on your lips. “Perhaps I do not want you to.”

Cregan’s eyebrows raise at your reply, and you feel his hands tighten around your waist once more. He can’t help but feel a jolt of arousal run down his back, which prompts him to release a low chuckle. “Well, if you wish for it that much…” he whispers in response, before pulling you back toward him, kissing you passionately. 

A breathless chuckle slips past your lips as you pull back from him, licking your kiss swollen lips. “But there are a few things we need to get you out of first,” you tease, tugging at the thick, furry coat that’s draped over his broad shoulders. 

“Are you this eager to have your hands over all of me?” he replies with a flirtatious smirk, but still unclips the coat and lets it fall to the ground. He doesn’t mind you seeming quite intent to get him out of his armor, allowing you to fumble with the clasps and buckles, and eventually helps you remove the heavy bits until he’s left wearing nothing but his breeches. But even those are quickly unlaced by you, left to be a puddle around his feet. 

“My my, do you not feel a little too hot still, Lord Stark?” you tease, letting your fingers wander over his exposed stomach. You can’t help but feel warmth creeping onto your cheeks as you see him in such little clothing, so exposed. He’s a muscular man, tall and large, and the sight of his bare skin with the dark of hair on his chest and a trail of it running below his undergarments is a welcoming one. 

Through the linen you see that he’s already hard and begging, waiting for you to take things further. Truly a shame you seem to relish in the teasing. 

Goosebumps prickle on his skin in the wake of your finger, making you smile. You drag your finger along the waistband of his undergarments, hooking it beneath to tug on it. He knows what you desire, and he’s not ashamed to give you just that. “I do not see you so eager to remove your own clothes, Princess,” he teases, undoing the laces in the front for his undergarments to join his breeches. “It is hardly fair you want to see all of me, yet I am not allowed to do the same.”

You take in a sharp breath at the sight of his hard cock, standing to full attention. It has you licking your lips. Batting your eyelashes at him, you’re quick to pull your nightgown over your head, a smirk on your lips. A flimsy piece of linen conceals what lies between your legs, but it’s still enough for him to all but devour your almost bare frame. 

“There,” you whisper, “now we are on equal grounds.”

Cregan takes a moment to look over you, licking his lips at the sight of your breasts fully exposed mto him. He knows you’re no maiden who’s completely untouched, you wouldn’t be as confident if you were, but it doesn’t stop him from appreciating the sight in front of him. 

“Equal grounds, truly?” he asks you, taking a step toward you. One arm snakes around your waist, pulling you against him, as his other hand fists the linen of your smallclothes. “I think you still have an advantage over me, Princess. Because I have yet to see what lies beneath your undergarments.”

Your palms rest flatly against his chest, and you press a chaste kiss to his skin. “I will not stop you, Lord Stark,” you whisper, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. 

“Then let’s make these ‘equal grounds’ a little bit more equal, hm?” Cregan whispers as well. He sinks to his knees with his mouth trailing a path down your body, licking and kissing over your skin until he reaches your navel. His large hands trail over your sides and thighs on his way down, the movement and sight making your breath hitch in your throat. 

A shudder ripples through your body as he tugs your smallclothes down your legs, and while you watch him with your hands buried in his dark curls, his eyes are all but focused on what’s between your legs. 

He drapes one of your legs over his broad shoulder, his dark blown eyes darting up to meet yours, and before you can make any teasing remark, his mouth is on you. A gasp catches in your throat. “Cregan, please,” you whimper, forgetting all courtesies the moment his tongue drags through your slit. There’s no softness, no gentleness in the way he all but devours your cunt, the previous teasing having made his patience run thin. 

Your head tips back in pleasure as his tongue alternates between sliding into you and swirling around your pearl, noticing both options have you grind your hips against his face. The tip of his nose rubs so perfectly against your pearl when his mouth pays attention to your entrance, and Cregan’s fingers dig into your flesh with your body tensing up already, keeping you steady. 

The Wolf of the North growls against your cunt as if he’s truly turned into one, devouring you with all he’s got, the sheer pleasure brought by his tongue and lips taking over you. 

As you look down at him again, you find him already staring up at you, watching you carefully as you slowly but surely unravel on his tongue. It’s intense, but you’re captivated enough not to break eye contact. 

“Gods, yes, I–” you whimper, and fall apart all over his tongue with a shudder. If it wasn’t for Cregan’s paws on your body, you would have lost balance by now, especially with the way he seemed to work his tongue in and out of you faster just in rhythm to his nose rubbing your pearl. 

He pulls away from you slowly as your peak subsides, and with his beard and lips glistening with the remnants of your arousal, how could you not pounce on him right then and there?

He supports his body with one arm placed on the ground and stretches his legs as you push yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his strong neck. The taste of yourself on his tongue makes you moan against his lips before you deepen the kiss. 

Cregan’s hard cock is nestled between your bodies, and you can’t resist wrapping your hand around it, stroking him once, twice, before you shift your hips and slowly sink down on him. 

Muscular arms completely wrap around your waist, making you very well aware of the size difference between the two of you. You’re significantly smaller than him, and relish in the feeling of being safe and protected with him around. You two haven’t been too close upon your arrival in the North, but it seems that there has been a hidden attraction lingering for quite some time. 

You know your hips would sooner or later become sore from pumping him with your core, hence you stick to rocking your hips back and forth with his cock stuffed deep inside you. It’s intimate and slow, but with the coarse hairs around the base of his cock dragging over your pearl with each swivel of your hips, you’re still racing for completion. 

While he mouths along your jaw and the curve of your throat, one of his hands comes up to cup your breast. Rolling the perky bud between his index finger and thumb, the slight sting works wonders to amplify the pleasure coursing through your veins. 

“By the Seven,” you whimper, grinding your hips against him with more determination. 

There comes a sharp hiss in return from him, barely audible between the open mouthed kisses he presses to your collar bones. You’re clawing at his shoulders and neck by now, scratching it despite the sensuality of your movements, and it feels as though you’re even drawing blood. But he doesn’t care about that – he rather enjoys having a woman that doesn’t hold back. 

Trailing his lips up to your throat, he nudges your chin with his nose, prompting you to tip your head back. “It’s not them you need to pray to right now, Princess,” Cregan rasps, a clear strain to his voice. “But perhaps I should take that as a compliment, hm?”

His words cause you to chuckle, and you’re grateful that he’s quickly distracted by kissing your throat again, because otherwise he might have noticed the heat his words bring to your cheeks. “If that is…” you trail off panting, burying your hand in his curls to tug his head back, forcing him to look up at you. The sight of his dark blown eyes hungrily gazing at you sends a shiver down your spine. You feel desired. “If that is a compliment, then I shall have to say it much more often.”

You’re not sure if it’s the fact you state wanting to compliment him more often, or if he’s just not used to having an appreciative lover in general, but your words seem to flip a switch inside of him. You quickly find yourself lowered on the fur blankets, warming your back while the flames heat up your skin and Cregan your blood. 

Nestled between your legs, he’s growing more determined now, the sensual rocking of your hips clearly not enough for him, but you don’t mind it. As much as you enjoy being in control, setting the tone, you also revel in following the lead. 

He’s propped up on one elbow, supporting himself as he thrusts into you, rolling his hips that make his cock drag so expertly against the sweet spot inside of you. 

With one hand, you hold onto his broad shoulder, digging your nails into his skin, while the other gropes at his chest, teasing his bud just like he’s done with yours before. The feeling of his coarse hairs beneath your fingers feels somewhat strange at first, for Aemond hasn’t had as much chest hair as Cregan does, but it’s also comforting. 

The familiar coil in the pit of your belly tightens slowly with his hips snapping into yours over and over again, split open by his hard cock.  

“Will you fill me up, my lord?” you moan breathily, arching your back with your breasts pressing against his sturdy frame. 

Cregan releases a choked groan at the question, and for a moment you can feel his hips stutter. You briefly wonder if you’ve pushed your luck too far, especially with him not replying immediately, until his raspy voice cuts through the heavy pants and moans. 

“Only if you let me take you to wife, Princess.” 

You inevitably clench down around him as a small, hiccuped gasp catches in your throat, resulting in Cregan drawing in a sharp breath. The haze in your eyes is replaced by an emotion you haven't felt in so long, an emotion he’s now giving back to you. And you let it flood you. 

Your hand comes from his chest to his biceps, holding onto it as you gather your thoughts. His hips haven’t slowed down one bit, and he’s truly expecting you to answer as if he wasn’t repeatedly impaling you on his cock right now. 

Staring up at him with wide eyes, your voice isn’t any louder than a whisper. “It would be foolish of me to turn this offer down,” you reply.

An impish smirk dances along Cregan’s features. “Is that meant to be a yes?”

“Y-Yes, it is, “ you whimper beneath him, arching your back once more. 

The warmth of his body, his weight and scent cloud your every being, and his thrusts are determined and harsh enough to render you speechless, your mind and body completely claimed by him. 

His hand snakes between your bodies, aiming for your sensitive pearl. Though the coarse hair around his cock has granted you at least a bit of friction, it’s not enough to bring you to your peak. His thumb circles over the little bud, fully coated with your arousal, and the thread in your belly is close to snapping. 

“Then I just might,” he grunts in return. 

Your body jerks at the sudden touch, but his muscular frame between your legs is enough to keep you pinned to the ground. “I need you… Cregan,” you whimper, bringing a hand behind his head to pull him down for a heated kiss. Your lips hardly part to release whimpers and moans, swallowing each other’s sounds of pleasure without any shame. “Let me give you a spare.”

It appears that your words give him a new-found vigor that leaves you gasping, the pace of his hips increasing. As you start to roll your hips against his thumb, you not only create some friction that feeds your pleasure but his as well. It’s not long after that your peak washes over you with a soft gasp, walls clenching around him like a vice. 

With your small frame trembling between his strong arms, Cregan releases a strained grunt, his own peak being milked out of him by your cunt fluttering around his cock. He keeps on dragging his thumb over your sensitive pearl, prolonging your peak and the pleasure that comes with it.

You stare up at him with wide eyes as you’re milking him for every drop, because there’s something so vulnerable in this wolf of a man, towering over you with his skin glistening with sweat, so desperate to fill you with his seed and breed you. 

The last jolts of his peak force him to languidly rut his hips into yours, desperately chasing the feeling of bliss that courses through your veins. His chest heaves with every heavy breath he takes, and the dark curls are damp and fall into his face. 

Only as Cregan is certain there’s not one drop of his seed left inside of him does he slowly stop his ministrations, and the hand that has toyed with your bud seizes your hips, stilling them.

His erratic breaths fans over your sweaty skin with his lips pressing to your temple. The feeling of being whole with him doesn’t leave you, not when his weight pins you down and keeps you grounded, easing your tumbled mind.  

“I shall welcome the arrival of any child you bear me,” Cregan says, inevitably breaking the silence. 

A smile spreads across your lips as you wrap your legs around his hips, and your arms around his neck. “Be careful what you wish for. My children will certainly be just as stubborn as me.”

His heart is practically pounding against his ribs, and he can feel himself on the verge of being lost by your touch alone again. You make him go wild and feral, your bold and flirtatious nature bringing out another side to him that’s completely unexpected. And yet it feels so right.  

The teasing banter brings a smile to his lips and a light to his gray eyes, your wit and humor shining through. “Let them be stubborn, then,” he chuckles, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “They only need to be half as feisty as you, and I shall be the happiest man in Winterfell.”

[kyeomofhearts]

Yunho x Chubby!Reader Headcanons <3

[☻] I’ve been thinking about Yuyu a lot 💔 so here we are! Made this in 30 minutes so please excuse any mistakes!

[nsfw content after the ‘keep reading’ header] mdni!!

☆ Yunho’s the type to always need some sort of physical touch when it comes to you. Like he’s mindlessly touching you (both sexual and non) whether that be by holding your hand or simply caressing your shoulder. Your physical presence just soothes him you know?

☆ Is not quiet about you at all, as he should. Right after your first date he almost changed his relationship status to ‘taken’ on all of his social media accounts. And now as a happy couple, he makes sure to let everyone know who his gf is and just how much he loves you! He even has a ‘I love my gf’ shirt with one of the very first selfies you sent him.

☆ Laying his head on your thighs is his favorite thing in the world. As soon as your fingers make their way to his scalp he’s gone. He just loves how warm and plush you are.

☆ Loves, absolutely loves, how soft and plump your skin is! Even if you get self-conscious about your stretch marks or cellulite, he will always make sure to show you how much he adores your body.

☆ Loves eating with you. Restaurants, takeout, or homemade… it doesn’t matter. There’s just something about seeing you eat happily that brings him so much joy.

☆ Okay, let’s face it… since Yunho is on the thinner side, he just can’t help but always gravitate towards you. Especially when it’s cold out, you bet he’s soaking up all of your warmth! You’re his personal heater and he will not be letting you go.

☆ Would absolutely not change a single thing about you whatsoever. Which he makes sure to remind you on those days where you feel a bit insecure about yourself. He thinks and knows that you are perfect just the way you are.

☆ Omg and the sex? Absolutely nasty.

☆ Almost loses all self control when he sees your body in its full glory. Absolutely touching everything and anything as soon as he is within arms reach.

☆ Body worship is through the roof.

☆ Yunho is a simple guy, he just can’t help himself when he sees your boobs and ass.

☆ Loves being rough because then that means he gets to see your body jiggling from how hard he’s fucking you. Also loves marking you up, seeing his hand imprinted on your ass just spurs him on even more.

☆ Is down to do any position with you so as long as he can still see your beautiful body.

☆ Surprisingly enough, he can pick you up and manhandle you like it’s nothing. (You were definitely shocked the first time he lifted you off the ground)

☆ Would be honored to die in-between your thighs. There’s no better way to go out than by eating out the love of his life. If he could, he would just stay in-between your thighs for the rest of his life (it doesn’t even have to be sexual!).

☆ Also loves when you ride his face. Despite your apprehension, he will almost always need to make you cum this way first before actually getting down and dirty.

☆ He cannot honestly get enough of how much there is to grab when it comes to you. There’s been a few times where he just wants to stay still and become one with you.

☆ Absolutely spoils you with lingerie! Even know he prefers you naked most of the time, lingerie on your body just does something to him. There’s nothing better than coming home after a long day to seeing you waiting for him in lingerie, it’s like a reward honestly.

☆ Yunho just loves you so much, he doesn’t know what he would do without you being in his life.

☆ Which is why he plans on proposing to you soon. He’s still trying to get the date down but the ring is already hidden away in his drawer. He hopes that you know how serious he is about you when you see the ring, it’s a Darry ring of course.

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

Astro Notes : Short N Sweet <3 Neptune's Revenge

Neptune 1st House - Popular energy. Very well known for their beautiful, majestic energy. Could have a lot of haters but admirers at the same time. Energetically sensitive to alot of others emotions. Sometimes, it can be a lil confusing holding so much power. Because their energy can be mixed up with someone elses if they don't know how to tell the difference. They usually have a strong sense of self, its just other peoples opinions can get in away of that if they arent careful.

Neptune 2nd House - Could use some help on the financial train. They're organic to the way they use their money. I mean, they could be super horrendous spender, spending each and every dime on any and everything. While still some how always having more in their wallet. Or they could be pretty good at saving and are a little bit of a cheapskate.

Neptune 3rd House - Whimsical voices. Poetic writers. Creative thinkers. Very talented when it comes to the hands as well. Could be excellent drawers & painters. Neptune in the 3rd has an ability to travel to very interesting places that aren't too far at home. They may go on lil adventures here and there. But its always a treat. Its kinda strange how well they can be at finding good eats as well with all the travel they do. Could work abroad or go to college somewhere out of their comfort zone a lil.

Neptune 4th House - Has a lot of secrets when it comes to the inner child. Very free, sweet loving children. Can open a door to different realms like we're in Narnia or something. Angelic creatures who enjoy alone time near their favorite place. If they ever share that special place with you consider yourself lucky. They normally keep the things they cherish hidden for a long time.

Neptune in the 5th House - Artists who seek deep into the art and become it. Very creative & a one of a kind with the way they carry the emotion in what it is they do. Can have you thinking hard on what it is they are trying to convey, they are a master at making complexities more harder to figure out. Just be there in the audience and watch the show. You'll never leave the same again.

Neptune in the 6th House - Fun loving pet owners, they go hard for the planet and the creatures that come from it. Real advocates for change and don't take too kindly to insensitive people. Could need to sharpen their boundaries a little more with people. Also, are incredible writers and should tap into this side a bit more. You might end up surprised with what talents you have that could make you some money, or could be a really cool job.

Neptune in the 7th House - Romance is the thing that just keeps on given to these individuals. May need to put the rose colored glasses down. that man might not be for you, love. Don't forget to put more time into your own needs versus the needs of someone else. Your compassionate energy may run dry if you're not using that waterfall of emotion for yourself. People are drawn to 7th house neptunes alot more than you think. They are capable of seeing thru the veil, you just don't notice.

Neptune in the 8th House - Psychologically understands the reasons on why the universe is the way that it is and why the people in it behave the way that we do. Could be honest about a lot of things, dishonest about what they know. The world doesn't need to know everything, which is why the divine gifted them with certain antidotes. Only they can use this so bring healing to a certain nation (or individual) but not everyone can find this secret the way they can. This is normally given to them by spirit guides, ancestors, or thru drreams.

Neptune in the 9th - Impracticality is almost their birth right. They see things in a way that doesnt make sense at all but to them it means something. What I mean is that these people see the world bigger than what they people tell them. They could have big drams and not understand why they have them, but God put them their for a reason. So you can figure them out. You may want to travel and study abroad, or just move somewhere different and don't know how. Thats where all the magic happens, finding out and taking the risk. The sagittarian way.

Neptune in the 10th - Majestic auras. The highlight of the moment. The star. The siren. The energy healer. Do I keep going? Very special creatures who touched this earth to make their dreams come true, even if they have to figure it out themselves. Empathetic to the people around them and are big on helping out with anything whenever they can. The Queens & Kings of the law of attraction. Can attract what they want if they just believe it in it more.

Neptune in the 11th House - Community leaders. Ancients who know they way to what the true reality is meant to be like. Literally can change the world with the way they move, think, and go around helping others. Sweet and lovely people to be around. Needs healing in their own friend groups. Can be a little out there, but thats why people love them.

Neptune in the 12th House - Practical minds in a world that tells them their crazy. No they arent crazy, they just have multiple psychic gifts. And these gifts have a way in showing them things people aren't usually equipped with handling. They need more time alone and in nature to keep themselves grounded. Other wise, they will go crazy from the world telling them that their crazy... When really they know a little more than what they led on. The imagination is a fun place, but also a place where the most hidden becomes entirely to open. Seers of the daylight & the night.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Finding Out About the Prefect Club | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Throughout you time in Twisted Wonderland, you are identified to be the first for a lot of things. The first non-magical person brought by the mirror, the first to witness and help end overblots on campus, the first to initiate the idea of teamwork (according to Crowley). It wouldn’t be a surprise that you are also one of the first students in NRC to continue being nice even when your fellow students are unruly and conniving. Such kindness in the midst of such a terribly misbehaved student body is sure to stand out and attract some attention. And while you surely have the dormleaders and their friends eating out of your hands, too bad the whole school practically is too:

Riddle Rosehearts

Finds out about it after attempting to return something to you

In a shared class you seemed to have left behind decorated pencil of yours in favor of chasing Grim

While debating if he should return it to you immediately or take a detour to his room

Another student has swiped it before him

He’s about to berate them 

Scold them for their behavior but he stops 

They are….sniffing it…intensely

He’s kind of jealous

Then he watches them sigh and put a glove on their hand before carefully putting it in a bag

He carefully follows after the student who slinks around until he’s in a hidden catacomb of the school

It’s filled with students in masks in their ceremonial garbs

“I’ve recovered a remnant!”

The cheers hurt his ears 

But he stays for the whole ceremony as they carry on normally

“And this picture is when they tripped on the trash those heathens left.”

“Disgraceful! We should hex them!”

“But they look so cute on the floor like that~”

“I know right~?”

Riddle decides that he should attend the next meeting as well 

So he swipes the pin and covertly keeps it in his chest pocket

“Some one  has to monitor them…it’s only right it’d be a dorm leader such as I.”

He’ll never admit he’s happy someone is bold enough to invade your privacy for him

If you ever find out he'll just expose them to you

Leona Kingscholar

Hears about it while pretending to nap somewhere

It angers him that the members of the dorm are slacking 

But he doesn’t interrupt because of his curiosity

“--omeone recovered one of the prefects jackets!”

“Seriously?! Are they letting just anyone touch it?”

“No way! Apparently their putting it on display in the—”

He finds a way to sneak in on one of the ceremony 

Stifling his laughter when the students all dance to a recording of your off-tune singing

“Do they really think they stand a chance at getting my herbivore?”

He’s so amused 

So amused that when they excitedly recount how you brushed up against some of them 

He knows he can do so much better

“Oi (Y/n).”

“Yes?”

“C’mere.”

“Uh Leona? Why are you hugging me?”

“You said you’d help your friends in need right? I need a pillow, so quit struggling.”

Idia Shroud 

Practically takes over the club

Probably a distributor that eventually is exalted as the (Y/n) expert

Sharing just a wink of the info, pictures, and souvenirs he gets from you

“Hahhaha you have so much to learn about the prefect before you even come close to my level.”

“Please! Sensei, teach us!”

“Only you hold the greatest gems from the beloved prefect!”

“That’s right!”

It’s like those discord chats that are just about everyone gushing about an anime or game

He may even attend physically with a mask of course as he gushes about the latest quirk he discovered of yours

Of course he’s not going to share everything 

But it’s nice to share your interest

And know that you’re not alone

“We can’t forever silence the over-touchy interlopers (Y/n) will only favor them more. Do not forget their compassionate actions towards each of us. In turn there are plenty of ways to punish them!”

“Yeah!”

He also has the prime sources to hear about anyone trying to make a move on you that he can’t directly monitor 

“Looks like Ortho is paying this student a…little visit.”

[inklore]

— the stranger / qimir x f!reader. the jedi have hidden many things from you about the dark side. like how good pleasure can feel and he is more than happy to show you. contents: dubcon, fingering, blood, death, light choking | wc: 881+

Everyone’s dead. 

The other Jedi. 

Your master. 

Your friends.

Everyone’s dead, and you’re….you should be dead. Your blood should be pooling around your lifeless body, painting the green of the grass into something opaque and poetically mixing with the blood of your friends.

The friends you trained with. 

The friends you love. 

You should be lying lifelessly beside them. With honor and pride for fighting till the very end. That should have been your fate. Your ending. How this bloodbath too its close.

Not this. 

Not backed against a tree by the monster who killed those friends you love so much, making you feel….good. 

Good when you’re surrounded by death. 

Good when you can smell burning flesh with each shuddering inhale that inflates your shaking body, 

"It's really simple. So simple. The Jedi like to teach that it’s complex. Light, dark. As if the two can’t mingle, change. Warp. Meld together as one thing entirely. I can show you.” He had said as he stepped closer. Each syllable coming from his mouth matched his foot steps until he was right in front of you, and there was no longer anywhere to go. 

Your saber long gone. Destroyed in the chaos of blood and bodies. The safety of a weapon, of an escape, is gone when there’s no space left between the two of you. 

“It won’t hurt,” you flinched away from his fingers when he brushed them against your cheek. A twitch of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Quite the opposite. There is more to the darkness than your precious Jedi have taught you. It can heal. It can teach.” His eyes swept over your heaving chest, following a trail up the column of your neck to your mouth, making a chill prick the bottom of your spine. “It can please. Give you a type of pleasure not even the flow of light can bring to you. Let me show you.” 

Your jawbone ached when he grabbed it after you had shaken your head. After you all but spat in his face about how much of a monster he was. How he’s going to regret what he’s done. Making a stand for yourself with a voice as weak as you felt. 

“You Jedi, so closed off in your ways. Never open to something more enlightening. Accepting the other possibilities of being. Of feeling. How can you be all knowing?” His fingers moved from your jaw down to your neck, and the race of your heart accelerated when he wrapped his fist around it. The light pressure had been enough to make your body go into fight or flight. Your hands coming up to grip his wrist. “Let me teach you. I can feel it,” his thumb tapped your pulse point, “in your blood. You’re not like the others. You’re smarter. Be smart.” His head tilted further into your space, making his mouth inches from yours, “you might find by the end of it you want me to show you more.” 

That’s how you got to where you are now. 

The Strangers hand between your thighs, while the other still holds its grip on your neck. His jaw twitching with every moan you try to hold back. His grip on your neck tightening when you try to bite your lip to stop yourself from letting any noise slip out. Making your mouth pull open, his mouth following the same motion in a pleased smirk. 

You’d realized half way into this, half way through the haze, that you could have slipped loose. He’d given you a proper opening to do so. But you hadn’t. Had let yourself be tempted and consumed, willingly.

The fact only adds to the churning in your lower stomach.

The hand between your thigh making your legs shake, your body contorting against the tree. Rolling against his palm, your swollen clit rubbing along the heel of his hand as the two fingers inside of you curl and make you cry out into the night. 

Your mind is a mess of pleasure and darkness that not even closing your eyes helps you sift through. To bring you back to the light you’ve had inside of you since birth. To ground yourself enough to use the many skills of the force you’ve been taught. 

Each time your eyes close, the pleasure feels worse. More intense. Like the deadliest kind of hallucinogen—his voice, his fingers, his face are there. Images of his mouth on your neck, body, lips, replacing his hand, projected through your head like a fog engulfing your entire being. 

It completely engulfs you, and you almost forget what it is like not to be consumed by the allure of darkness. Making your body ultimately crave more.

You don’t know if it’s real or not when you feel his lips brush against your ear and he says, “things that are this reactive to something so minuscule compared to everything else that can be given to it were meant to feel this good.” You shake your head, the walls of your pussy fluttering, swelling around his fingers. “You’re about to come on my fingers, what’s more proof than that that your body seeks the truth. You were meant for all the things the darkness can give.” 

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hi! I would love to request something for Aemond x fem or gn reader. I was thinking reader saying prompt. 15 from your general list “I fell in love with you. Not for how you look, just for who you are. Although you look pretty great too."

Maybe one day he wakes up with bad pain in the eye and he doesn’t feel like calling the maester so they help him, they remove his eyepatch and apply his ointment for him. And he feels extremely insecure because it’s the first they saw him without the eyepatch but they reassure him. I need that man to cry in my arms as I tell him he’s beautiful (I know it may sound ooc but he’s my babygirl)

15. ''I fell in love with you. Not for how you look, just for who you are. Although you look pretty great too.''

The gif from the trailer fits perfectly this request

Warnings: mention of past injuries (eye)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You returned to your chambers after spending the morning embroidering with Helaena to find Aemond still in bed. A frown drew between your eyebrows. At this hour, he was either training with Ser Criston or attending the small council meeting.

‘’Aemond?’’ Your soft voice cut through the silence of the room, waking your husband’s attention.

He shifted under the covers, his single eye fluttering open. ‘’Could you tell Cole I will not be training with him today?’’

You walked over to the bed, taking a closer look at him. ‘’Are you well?’’ You touched his forehead with the back of your hand, checking for a fever.

‘’It’s just…my eye. It gets irritated sometimes.’’ Aemond avoided your gaze, not wanting to see the familiar look of pity that he had grown all too used to seeing in the eyes of others. ‘’Would you want me to fetch the maester? He should have something to sooth your pain,’’ you offered, concern etched on your face.

‘’No need for the maester.’’ He gently caught your hand in his own, stopping you from rising. ‘’I already have a salve Maester Orwyle gave to me. It’s on the table, over there.’’

Aemond let go of your hand, allowing you to stand and retrieve the salve for his eye. You returned to the bed. ‘’I’ll do it for you.’’

You had offered your help out of pure kindness, but Aemond did not want it.

‘’No! I do not wish that.’’ His voice was firm, causing your hands to crisp around the jar. ‘’You won’t like what you see under,’’ he added with a gentler tone.

He knew what lay beneath the eyepatch — the grotesque, scarred skin that he had lived with for years now. It was a sight he preferred to keep hidden from everyone, even you. Especially you. Since you’ve known each other, you’ve only seen his good looks, and Aemond wanted to keep it that way.

Aemond let out a soft hiss of pain as he sat up, his body tense with discomfort. It had not been this bad in a long time.

Seeing him in pain made your heart ache, but you tried to hide it.

You sat down close to him and guided him back against the pillows. He clenched his jaw, trying to bear the pain.

‘’Let me,’’ you insisted, only wanting to help him, to relieve his pain.

His good eye was fixed on yours with a mixture of resignation and reluctance. He knew there was no arguing with you when you were like this.

With a resigned sigh, he slowly removed the eyepatch, revealing the scarred skin beneath. The sight was a stark contrast to his usual handsome features, with its puckered and uneven texture. He averted his gaze, unable to look at you directly.

Aemond waited for your response, his body tense, and braced for your reaction. He expected disgust, pity, perhaps even revulsion. After all, his scarred eye had left other people speechless in the past. He glanced up at you under his lashes, searching your face for any hint of how you were feeling.

You remained silent as you applied the salve on the reddish-pink skin with the more careful and gentle touch. Causing him more pain was the last thing you wanted.

Aemond couldn't help but watch you intently, studying the focused expression on your face. Your eyes were fixed on his scar, but there was no repugnance in your gaze, just a mixture of concern and tenderness.

Once you were finished, you put the lid back on the jar and cupped your husband’s face with one hand. ‘’Aemond,’’ you began, looking at him with the most loving eyes. ‘’I fell in love with you. Not for how you look, just for who you are.’’ You glanced down at his naked chest, seeing the softly defined muscles he acquired from training, and back to his face. ‘’Although you look pretty great too.’’

Aemond's heart squeezed at your words and the tenderness in your gaze. He had expected a lot of things from you, but not this. Not such unconditional acceptance and love.

"You're the only person who's ever looked at me like this," he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion.

‘’Come here.’’ You shifted back on the bed and guided him to your lap.

Aemond didn’t protest, curling up to you, seeking comfort and closeness. You began to stroke his hair gently, running your fingers through the soft silver strands. The sensation was soothing and intimate, making him feel safe and entirely loved for the first time.

—

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[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.” 

[claramelooo]

I think I don't need made it clear, but cheat is wrong and if you agree with this, you have a huge character flaw, improve!

Finally the moment has arrived!

Enjoy it! <3

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Warning: + 18

Paring: Mommy Wanda x Brat Fem reader

Summary: Wanda's jealousy makes her take an important step in your relationship

Read here: Prologue | Part 1 - Predator | Part 2 - The Prey | Part 3 - On Your Knees | Part 5 - The Lamb

Velvet Chains

The Spider

The church bells echoed through the neighborhood, announcing the start of the Sunday mass. You were late—as always. You sat discreetly in the back pews, trying to blend in with the crowd of familiar faces. But it didn’t take long for your eyes to be drawn to the front, where the Maximoff family sat in their usual spot.

There was Wanda, sitting upright next to Vision, with Billy and Tommy between them. The twins were impeccable, in little suits that made their rosy cheeks look even more innocent. Vision, ever composed, was the picture of the devoted husband and present father. Wanda, in turn, seemed to radiate grace and serenity.

You watched as she tilted her head to listen to something Tommy was whispering, a gentle smile curving her lips. There was something so perfect about the scene that it was almost suffocating. The way she adjusted her son’s tie with quick, delicate fingers, how Vision placed a protective hand on Billy’s shoulder, how the four of them seemed like a living painting of family harmony.

The congregation adored them. The approving glances and knowing smiles all around were impossible to ignore. It was clear that everyone saw Wanda and her family as a model to be followed—a beacon of perfection in an imperfect world.

But you couldn’t stop wondering: If she’s so happy, why does she look at me like that?

The thought hit you hard, and you quickly averted your gaze, feeling your heart race. You tried to focus on the sermon, but the priest’s words seemed blurry. All you could see was her.

As the service went on, you watched her out of the corner of your eye. She looked so devout, hands clasped in prayer, eyes closed, but there was something beneath that facade of holiness you couldn’t ignore. A barely perceptible tension in her shoulders, a shadow in her smile.

And then, when everyone’s eyes were closed, singing the hymn, it happened. You caught her looking.

It was quick, but enough for you to know it wasn’t your imagination. Her gaze met yours, just a second longer than it should have, before she diverted her attention to the children. It was a look heavy with something you couldn’t fully decipher—desire, frustration, maybe even desperation.

"She’s so good at this," you thought, feeling a lump in your throat. "So good at seeming perfect."

As soon as the service ended, you rushed straight out of the sacred temple—to avoid any contact with anyone—and ended up bumping into another person.

“Y/n?” The familiar female voice rang in your mind like bells.

“Yelena?” You asked weakly.

As soon as the words left your mouth, Yelena tilted her head to the side, a smile forming on her face as though she had just remembered an old inside joke. "Wow, so you’re still alive? I thought you had been sent off to a convent or something."

You opened your mouth to respond, but Yelena was already laughing, that laugh you always found contagious. "And you’re still as clumsy as ever," she continued, crossing her arms and sizing you up.

"I’m not clumsy," you replied, but stumbled over your words, which only made her smile widen.

"Oh, yes, you are!" Yelena shot back, taking a step back as if bracing for an imminent explosion. "But you’ve grown up well, I see."

You felt your cheeks burn, but before you could think of a witty response, Yelena stepped closer and gave you a sudden hug. "It’s good to see you, Y/n," she said, her voice softening. "I thought I’d never run into you again."

You couldn’t help but smile—that smile that seemed to come from a forgotten place, a hidden corner of your memory where Yelena always held a special space. But before you could say anything, she pulled back and raised an eyebrow. "So, do you still only fancy girls? Or have you 'grown out of it'?"

Your jaw dropped at the audacity, but the teasing glint in Yelena’s eyes made it clear she was just playing around. "Tsk, you never change!" you replied, crossing your arms and trying to look indignant.

"Oh, good," Yelena said, shrugging. "I prefer you this way. Way more interesting than these smiling hypocrites around here." She glanced around, making it clear she was talking about the very place you were in.

From a distance, Wanda watched the interaction with narrowed eyes, the kind smile she wore as a mask beginning to fade. Her chest burned with something she didn’t want to name—jealousy.

Who was this woman who made you smile so easily? Who pulled genuine laughter from you while Wanda herself struggled to coax even a shy smile? Wanda felt her fingers involuntarily tighten on her purse strap as her eyes followed every movement of their interaction.

Oh, she sees.

Yelena.

The problematic daughter of the church, the black sheep in a flock of immaculate whiteness. Wanda vaguely remembered her from the sermons years ago: messy blonde hair, clothes always a little out of place from the modest standard expected, and an attitude that seemed to shout defiance with every breath.

Yelena never fit in. She was the type of person who asked uncomfortable questions during Bible studies, who laughed loudly when no one else found anything funny, who made a point of standing out even in an environment where uniformity was seen as a virtue.

And now, there she was, as comfortable and confident as ever, talking to you like she had every right in the world to occupy space in your life.

Wanda gritted her teeth, hatred bubbling inside her with a force that almost scared her. It was irrational, of course. Yelena hadn’t done anything directly to Wanda, but that only made her irritation grow. The blonde seemed to exist to provoke, to rebel, to remind Wanda of everything she considered chaotic and unnecessary.

And now, she was pulling you into this world. So when Yelena tilted her head and gave you a playful tap on the shoulder, Wanda saw everything in shades of scarlet.

“You really are a mess,” Yelena said, laughing. “But I think I missed this.”

“Well, you’re not perfect either,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“Of course not,” Yelena retorted, winking. “But at least I’m fun.”

Your laughter echoed in the air, and Wanda turned abruptly, marching away with firm, calculated steps. "Fun," she thought, her teeth clenched. "She doesn’t need fun. She needs focus. She needs me."

Yelena was a symbol of everything Wanda despised and feared: chaos, disobedience, questioning. And now, she had you. She made you smile. She made you open up in a way Wanda couldn’t.

Wanda took a deep breath, trying to compose herself while watching from afar, her nails digging into the palm of her hand. She knew it was irrational. But, at the same time, she knew she’d do anything to keep Yelena away from you.

[...]

Your shift at the library was coming to an end, and you hadn't seen the woman who haunted your dreams. In fact, you hadn't seen her since Sunday at church. Instead of offering you personal mentoring, Wanda had simply written what you should study and made a few comments on your essays.

Had you done something? Hurt her? Made her angry? Had something happened?

Your thoughts vanished the moment her figure appeared in front of you, as though she had been there all along. Wanda stood in front of a bookshelf, seemingly deep in thought.

“Wanda, I–” You tried to speak, but she turned to face you, making you stop mid-sentence. Wanda shot you an enigmatic look before turning back to the shelf, picking up a few books and placing them on your desk.

"Your shift is almost over," she said. Hearing her voice after a few days made your heart race. "Do you think you could help me take these books to my place? The boys have a test next week, they need to study."

"Y-yes," you replied, mentally kicking yourself for stammering.

Wanda's eyes brightened for a moment, a smile curling at the corner of her lips.

"I'll wait for you in the car, then," she handed you the keys and walked out.

The weight of the moment seemed to hang in the air as Wanda left, leaving only the trace of her overwhelming presence behind. You held your breath for a moment, the cold library keys in your hand, your mind spinning in a whirl of questions.

Why had she been distant these past few days? Why did she seem so... different now?

You finished organizing your things, carefully locked the door, and walked toward the parking lot, the weight of the books in your arms mirroring the heaviness in your chest. Wanda’s car was there, parked under the shade of a tree, and she was in the driver's seat, the window rolled down, her eyes focused on something in the distance.

As you approached, Wanda looked at you and gave a slight smile, but there was something in her gaze that unsettled you—a glimmer that felt both warm and dangerous.

"Get in," she said, her voice low and soft, almost an invitation, yet with the firmness of an order. You obeyed, placing the books in the back seat and sitting beside her. The silence that followed was thick, but not uncomfortable; it was charged, like a rope stretched to its breaking point.

Wanda drove with calculated ease, her fingers holding the wheel with the same delicacy with which she seemed to handle everything in life. Occasionally, she’d glance in your direction, and you could feel the intensity of her gaze, even without turning your head.

“You’ve been working well,” she said, finally breaking the silence.

“Thank you,” you replied, trying to sound neutral, though the stammer almost came back.

The silence reigned all the way to her house. “We’re here,” she announced, parking in front of a house that looked straight out of a catalog: an immaculate garden, a white fence, flowers perfectly aligned.

She got out of the car with grace, and you followed, balancing the books in your arms while trying not to trip.

The house was as perfect inside as it was outside, decorated with a flawless balance of coziness and sophistication. The sound of children laughing echoed in the distance, but Wanda moved with calm, guiding you into the living room.

"Leave the books here," she indicated a table, and you obeyed.

When you turned to her, Wanda was standing closer than you expected, arms crossed, that unreadable look on her face again.

"Thanks for the help," she said, and there was something in her tone, a softness that almost felt… maternal.

Billy and Tommy pulled her attention, asking for help with a question about the test. Wanda leaned toward them, answering with patience and care, the kind of mother any child would dream of having. But even while talking to her sons, her thoughts were on you, and the overwhelming desire to have you completely under her control surged inside her like an unstoppable tide.

She stood up again when the boys returned to the living room, turning back to you with a gentle smile—a smile that masked the storm raging inside her. “The boys will be fine now. Do you want something to drink?”

You hesitated, the discomfort obvious. “I think I should go, Wanda. I don’t want to impose.”

"Impose?" she repeated, almost laughing. But there was something in her laugh—something tense. “You would never impose on me, Y/n.”

The softness of her words made something stir inside you. You wanted to believe it was just kindness, but you knew it was more than that. There was an intensity in her eyes that held you captive, pulling you in like a magnet.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice low.

“Then don’t say anything,” she murmured, almost like an order. She moved closer, her steps slow, deliberate. “Just… stay here with me.”

Something inside you screamed that you should leave, that you should escape this overwhelming sensation, but your legs wouldn’t move. It was as if she had already wrapped you in an invisible web, and you couldn’t break free.

“And Vision?” Of all the things, that was the first thing you managed to say.

"Business trip," she said, placing a cup of hot chocolate on the table while she sipped a carefree glass of wine. You shot her a curious look. “What?”

“Hot chocolate? Are you serious?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, with a hint of humor in your question.

“You’re too young for wine, and coffee is out of the question,” she replied, while pouring herself more wine—almost like a playful challenge.

“I drink coffee,” you countered.

“The person who offered you that should be arrested. Or killed,” she smiled behind her glass, the corner of her lips curling into a questionable humor.

You laughed, even though you tried to hold it back. Her lighthearted comment was an unexpected break in the tension that always seemed to exist between you two. Holding your cup of hot chocolate, you took a small sip and narrowed your eyes at her, pretending to disapprove.

“I’ll pretend this isn’t just jealousy because I’m young,” you said, arching an eyebrow.

Wanda smiled crookedly, a smile that seemed to light up the room. “Maybe I just like to tease you,” she said, joking, but there was something behind the teasing, a depth you couldn’t ignore.

You shook your head, smiling, trying to hide the blush on your cheeks. “Well, mission accomplished.”

She tilted her head, watching you with curious eyes, as if trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re funny when you’re uncomfortable, you know?”

“That’s a strange compliment, Wanda,” you replied, taking another sip of the hot chocolate. “Or are you saying you like to see me uncomfortable?”

“I like to see you any way, my sweet,” she answered casually, but the intensity in her gaze contradicted the lightness of her words. You felt your stomach churn with the implicit confession.

“That was… forward,” you murmured, looking away. “It’s not common to hear that, you know?”

“Maybe because no one else has had the courage to say it before.” Her reply came quickly, almost as if it had been rehearsed. She took another sip of wine, her eyes still fixed on you. “But I’m not like the others, Y/n.”

You looked at her, studying every detail: the green eyes that seemed to pierce your soul, the way she held her glass with a confidence that seemed natural. “No, you’re definitely not like the others,” you said, before you could stop yourself.

For a moment, silence fell between you two, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was heavy, laden with something neither of you wanted to name. Then Wanda broke the moment, resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand, as though studying you.

“Tell me something,” she said, suddenly changing the subject. “Something no one else knows about you.

“Something no one else knows?” you repeated, blinking in surprise.

“Yeah. A secret. A memory. Something big or small, it doesn’t matter. I want to know more about you,” she explained, her voice so soft it was almost hypnotizing.

You hesitated, feeling vulnerable under her gaze, but at the same time, there was something inviting in the way she waited for your answer. “Okay… I used to collect rocks when I was a kid,” you finally said, laughing softly.

Wanda raised her eyebrows, clearly intrigued. “Rocks? Seriously?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, laughing again. “But they weren’t just rocks. Each one had a story. Some were ‘magical,’ others ‘cursed.’ I’d make a huge drama about it.”

She laughed softly, her laughter’s melody seeming to fill the space around you. “That’s adorable. And it makes sense. You seem like someone who would bring rocks to life.”

You protested, but her laughter was so contagious, and soon you were laughing too.

As the laughter died down, she looked at you with a soft, almost protective expression. “See? This. That smile. That’s what I’ve wanted to see for so long.” Wanda whispered, her eyes fixed on you—clearly enchanted.

You remained silent, feeling an unexpected warmth spreading through your chest. Something was changing, deepening between you both, but you didn’t know whether to be afraid or simply accept it.

The conversation began softly as Wanda sat next to you on the couch, the dim light of the late afternoon casting soft shadows around the room. She watched you as if trying to see beyond the words, beyond the silence. When she finally broke the moment, her voice was calm, yet direct.

“Tell me more about your old life. I’d like to know you better,” she asked, her head slightly tilted, her eyes attentive.

You looked away, your fingers nervously playing with the sleeve of your sweater. “It’s complicated.”

Wanda didn’t relent. “I want to understand you. I want to know what happened to you. I can see there’s something weighing on you, something you carry alone.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her persistence. Something in the maternal tone of her voice, in the gentle firmness of her presence, made the words slip out before you could hold them back. “I was sent to a Catholic boarding school in England when I was 17.”

Wanda raised her eyebrows, surprised. “A Catholic boarding school? That sounds... ironic, coming from your family.”

You laughed, but the sound was bitter. “Yeah, ironic is one word for it. They wanted to ‘correct’ me.” You made air quotes with your fingers, sarcasm clear in your voice.

She fell silent, giving you space to continue.

“I was accused of… well, trying to kiss a girl named Sharon. Some neighbors saw us talking too close to each other and decided to make up their stories. That was enough to make my parents panic. And just like that, there I was, with a one-way ticket to a nunnery, where I was supposed to learn to be a ‘good girl.’”

Wanda sighed, leaning in a little closer, the warmth of her presence a surprising comfort. “And there? How was it?”

You hesitated, but something in her expression — the patience, the care — encouraged you. “I met Kate there. She was the rebel, the girl who did whatever she wanted and defied the rules. And me? Well, I was the shy one. She teased me all the time, laughed at my seriousness. Until one day, behind the chapel, she kissed me.”

Wanda’s eyes brightened with an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher. “And then?”

“Then, one of the nuns caught us. Kate denied everything, of course. Said I forced her, said I was a freak. I was punished. They said I was a bad influence on the other girls.” Your voice trembled as you relived the moment, but you kept going. “My family stayed silent. No one defended me. It was as if they finally had an excuse to give up on me.”

Wanda reached out, softly touching your hand, the warmth of her skin against yours anchoring you. “They were wrong,” she said, her voice firm and full of emotion. “Everything about them is wrong, Y/n.”

You looked at her, your eyes welling up. “Why do you care so much? Why do you want to know?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she leaned in closer, enveloping you in her arms. Your head found her shoulder, and she began to stroke your hair with gentle fingers. “Because I see you, Dorogaya. I see how special you are, even if no one has ever told you that before.”

You felt the tears fall, but also a calm that seemed impossible. “I just... wanted to be enough.”

She cupped your face with both hands, lifting it so your eyes met hers. “You are enough. You always have been.”

Before you could respond, her lips met yours. The kiss was soft, but firm, filled with a security you hadn’t felt in so long. There was no rush, no urgency. Just warmth that seemed to envelop you, as if she were trying to convey everything words couldn’t.

Wanda’s hands moved to your waist, gripping your curves.

“Stick your tongue out, Dekta.” She stroked behind your ears, sending a shiver through you.

You moaned softly when you felt Wanda’s hungry tongue meet yours, coaxing you to give in. Her alcohol-tinged, aphrodisiac breath intoxicating you. It was so intense, so distinct… you never thought you could be touched like this, in such a… possessive way.

Your nails dug into Wanda’s back, trying to hold onto something, anything as the kiss deepened.

It didn’t take long for Wanda to tug at the hair at the back of your neck, making the kiss addictive, and soon she was pushing you back, making you lie on the sofa cushions, coming over you. Her body became her only focus — and seeing you so vulnerable, she simply couldn’t resist.

Bold and full of lust, Wanda slid her hands under your shirt, her fingers touching the skin of your stomach, making you gasp. Her plan was to make an even bolder move, grabbing your perfect breasts and squeezing your nipples under the fabric of your bra. However, a noise from upstairs made you both pull apart abruptly.

The kiss had been a spark in the fog Wanda hadn’t even realized surrounded her. It felt as though something dormant inside her for years had finally awakened. Her days with Vision, her impeccably perfect routine, her polite smiles to her children — it all felt like it had been lived in black and white.

But your touch, your lips, brought color.

Wanda felt a warmth radiating from her chest, spreading through her entire body. It wasn’t just desire; it was something deeper, something that made her feel alive in a way she thought she’d forgotten. The world around her seemed to vanish, leaving only the sensation of you, so close, so genuine.

When she finally pulled away, her eyes remained locked on yours, as if trying to memorize every detail. A small, almost shy smile appeared on her lips. Not the smile full of control she usually wore as armor, but something genuine, unarmed.

You made her realize there was something more to feel, more to live. That the safety and routine she knew maybe weren’t enough. The instant your lips met hers, Wanda realized she didn’t want to go back to black and white. You were her reason to see the world in color again.

You swallowed hard, trying to compose your thoughts, but doubt began to grow inside you. “Wanda…” Your voice came out low, almost pleading. “What does this mean? What are we doing?”

The woman pulled back slightly, still watching you, her dark eyes reflecting the embarrassment that consumed you. What was she looking for in you? What were you seeking in her? You wanted answers but didn’t know if you were ready for them.

“I…” and for the first time since meeting Wanda, you saw her falter. “I’m tremendously attracted to you, Y/n.” She confessed. “Would you be interested in having an affair?”

Your heart raced, pounding frantically in your chest. Wanda’s proposal made your mind spin in a whirlwind of thoughts. The air between you two felt charged with electricity, the tension almost palpable. Her gaze didn’t leave yours, keeping you locked in the intensity of her dark eyes.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I... You’re a married woman, Wanda.” Your voice trembled, reflecting the confusion and desire fighting within you.

Wanda slightly tilted her head, a sad smile appearing on her lips. “And you think I don’t know that?” Her voice was soft, but there was a hint of exasperation. “You think I don’t think about it every time I look at you, every time I feel this thing inside me?”

"Thing?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

She took a step forward, closing the distance between you again. "This... need I feel... This connection. It's different from anything I've ever felt before, Y/n."

Your mind screamed to pull back, but your body remained still, absorbing every word. "And Vision? Your children? The church?"

Wanda looked away for a moment, as if the mention of them was an open wound. "They are my family, my duty! But you... you came out of nowhere and became something I can't ignore. I don't want to ignore it."

"This isn't fair." Your voice faltered, a lump growing in your throat. "It's not fair to them. It's not fair to me."

She sighed deeply, and for a moment, you saw a vulnerability in her that seemed impossible. "I know. And yet, here we are, aren't we? I can't get you out of my head, Y/n. You've made me question everything... All the things I thought were right, all the things I thought I knew about myself. And if this is wrong, then... I don’t want to be right."

The silence that followed was heavy. The world around you seemed to fade as you fought against the whirlwind of emotions Wanda had triggered in you.

"I don't know if I can do this," you finally admitted, your voice fragile.

Wanda came closer, and this time, her hands found yours. The warmth of her touch was undeniable, as comforting as it was overwhelming. "I don't expect you to have all the answers right now," she said, almost in a whisper. "But I know that this, whatever it is between us, is real. And I'm willing to risk anything to find out."

You looked into her eyes, searching for something that could help you decide. And, in the end, you found the security you had longed for—not in the situation, but in her.

"I... accept." Your voice barely made it out, but Wanda heard it.

The smile that lit up her face was like the sunrise after an endless night. A smile so bright and true that it made you want to lose yourself in it, want to preserve it at any cost. And in that moment, something broke inside you—or maybe something finally clicked into place. The weight on your chest wasn’t doubt, nor fear. It was something deeper, something more dangerous. It was your own obsession.

What would you do to keep that smile? To hold onto that warmth, that feeling of being seen, of being desired, as something precious? Everything? Maybe.

"I accept," you repeated, this time more firmly, your voice echoing like a promise in the dark room. Wanda smiled again, but now there was something different in the shine of her eyes, as if she knew she had won you over, that she had pulled you into her web and there was no escaping now. "But I've never done this... None of this." You let out a shy whisper. Your confession sounded like a timid prayer, a whisper of vulnerability that Wanda knew she would never forget.

She watched every nuance of your face—the way your eyes avoided hers, how your restless hands searched for something to hold onto, and the blush that rose on your cheeks. So inexperienced, so raw. A blank canvas waiting to be painted, molded by her hands.

It was more than attraction. It was power. A power that enveloped her like a sweet, intoxicating poison, while her mind simmered with ideas of how to guide you, how to corrupt you. Wanda wanted to be the only one to show you everything—the possibilities, the sensations, what desire really meant.

"This is good," she finally murmured, moving closer, her voice low and almost maternal. "It means you're all mine to discover."

She raised her hand, the touch of her fingers running smoothly down the side of your face, almost as if she were examining a precious jewel. You leaned slightly into the touch, like a flower seeking the sun, and the innocent gesture made Wanda bite her lip, struggling to contain the growing desire.

"You trust me, don't you?" she asked, with a softness that masked the true weight of the question.

Your eyes finally met hers, hesitant but sincere. "I trust you," you answered, and Wanda felt a shiver run down her spine.

That trust, so freely given, so unprotected, made her want to devour you, and at the same time, protect every piece of your soul. She knew she was treading dangerous ground, but the desire to shape you, to be the first and only one to mark your skin and your heart, was stronger than any sense of reason that might still exist.

She held your face gently, her thumbs tracing invisible lines on your cheeks with the tips of her fingers. "You don't know how much it means to hear that, my girl," she murmured, as if trying to keep every word deep within her soul.

"I know," you replied, because you knew. You knew how it felt to fall into someone else's abyss, how it felt to be willing to be consumed just to keep feeling the warmth they brought.

Her lips met yours again, but this time the kiss was more intense, as if Wanda was trying to leave a mark, as if she were trying to brand you in a way that could never be erased. You responded with the same hunger, holding onto her wrists as if afraid she might disappear.

She pushed you hard back, and you hit your hip on the corner of the table—what would give you a bruise later, but that mattered little when you sucked in and received Wanda’s demanding tongue into yours.

The woman lifted you up, making you sit on the table so she could press her palm against your pussy, and you moaned, muffled by the kiss as you bit her lip and she gasped.

You didn't have much experience, but you knew this feeling was not common. A kind of dangerous desire to feel, it was corrosive and you could see control slipping through your fingers like trying to hold beach sand.

When the air ran out, the separation was necessary, and you could hear Wanda protesting quietly. Pressing your foreheads together, still panting, you held her gaze, feeling your heart beat like a drum in your chest. "You make me feel like there's nothing else in the world that matters."

It was true. It was dark, it was reckless, but it was true.

You knew you were stepping into dangerous territory. But looking at Wanda, with her eyes burning with emotion and her fingers still tracing your skin, you also knew you were willing to risk it. Even if that meant burning.

Wanda tilted her head, still so close to you that the heat of her breath brushed your skin. The smile on her lips was something between satisfaction and a veiled challenge, as if she were fully aware of the power she held over you—and relished it.

Yelena... the name wouldn't leave the woman's mind, taking her to a limbo of insecurities and uncertainties she didn’t even know she had. Making her feel fear. Yet now, the girl was nothing more than a private joke.

How could she think someone so insignificant could steal you from her? That she could destabilize what Wanda was trying to build with you? It was almost adorable how she still didn’t understand. Wanda let out a smile, almost indulgent, still lost in thoughts—while her fingers caressed your neck.

Yelena. 

She had no idea how much time she was wasting. Wanda wasn’t just attractive, she was necessary, the missing piece in your life, the one who could give you everything you needed—or rather, everything you hadn’t yet realized you needed. She knew exactly how to dominate, how to guide, how to make you feel that you couldn’t live without her. And Yelena... Yelena was just a passing obstacle.

The anger of seeing someone else approach you, even if only with words or looks, was a flame Wanda preferred not to feed. She didn’t need it. But all insecurity was gone when you gave yourself to her in such a... complete, raw way. 

Wanda had something deeper with you. Something more lasting. Something that couldn’t be shaken.

She could try as much as she wanted, thought Wanda, with a satisfied smile. But you, Y/n, are already mine. And that... that is something neither she nor anyone can change.

The feeling of control, of being the only one to offer security, warmth, and pleasure, filled Wanda like a drug. She knew you didn’t need anything else. Nothing but her. As she looked at you intently, the thought lingered: She can try... but you've already given in. "I'm the only one who can give you what you want." And that made her smile again. Because, in the end, Yelena could never compete with what Wanda knew she had in her hands.

In that moment, Wanda was like a spider finding an innocuous corner to weave her web. The longer she spent weaving, the more fabulous her construction became, though few noticed—her threads were almost invisible. A spider doesn’t need to exert effort or leave her place to feed—in absolute silence, she waits for her prey to approach and get caught in her web, so she can devour it.

~*~

Y/n, you'll be devoured.

Tag List <3

@vyvvycg @3liyuh @rosekjsses @3liyuh @idkwhatever580 @valentine585 @beggingonmykneesforher @trindad2k

[theonottsbxtch]

PREACHER’S DAUGHTER | MV1

an: can you tell i have an amazing music taste, anyway i’m finishing up a lot of my wips this weekend therefore be ready for a bit of stuff to come out!! i need to update my master list

warnings: domestic abuse, religious themes obvs

wc: 10.2k

Max was never one for church.

Never believed in any of that.

But God, would he get on his knees for a girl.

He couldn’t even remember when he first saw her—it was like she’d always been there, glowing in a way that made his chest tighten and his palms itch to touch what he had no business reaching for.

She was perfect in that untouchable kind of way. Always smiling, always polite. The kind of girl who said "please" and "thank you" without sounding fake. She had a laugh that could make angels jealous and a silver cross around her neck that caught the light just right, like some divine shield.

And Max? He was everything she wasn’t. Grease under his nails, a cigarette always tucked behind his ear, and a devil-may-care attitude that had sent half the town clutching their pearls. He’d been watching her for weeks now, maybe months. The way she walked, her little rituals—Bible study on Wednesday nights, choir practice on Saturdays, and the absolute certainty that she’d be on her family’s porch every evening at seven, helping her mom snap beans or some other domestic chore that Max couldn’t wrap his head around.

She didn’t belong in his world. Hell, she probably didn’t even know it existed. But that didn’t stop him from wanting her. No, needing her.

It was the way she looked so... pure, he supposed. Untouched by the grime and shadows he carried around like second skin. And it wasn’t just her innocence he wanted to wreck. It was the thought of making her his—really his. Of seeing her in his world, in his trailer, on his bike, wearing his marks, not that dainty little cross that probably smelled of Sunday mornings and lavender soap.

Max didn’t follow her. Not exactly. But he always seemed to know where she’d be, and tonight wasn’t any different. Wednesday night Bible study. He parked his beat-up car down the street from the little white church, hidden enough to keep from drawing attention. Not that anyone would think twice—it wasn’t like he blended in with the choir crowd.

The stained-glass windows glowed softly, warm light spilling out into the cool evening air. He could hear the faint hum of voices, maybe a hymn being sung, as he leaned back against the hood of his car and waited. He lit another cigarette, the flicker of the lighter briefly illuminating the sharp lines of his face.

When the front doors finally swung open, he straightened, tossing the half-smoked cigarette onto the pavement and crushing it under his boot. She was the last to leave, as he knew she would be. Everyone else had trickled out in pairs and groups, chatting and laughing as they headed home. But she stayed behind, always locking up on her own.

Tonight, she was struggling with a box full of what looked like hymnals and Bible study materials, juggling it while trying to fit the key into the heavy wooden doors. Max could see the way her fingers fumbled, her brow furrowing in frustration.

Before he could think better of it, he started across the street. The click of his boots on the pavement caught her attention, and she turned her head sharply, her soft eyes widening as she saw him.

“Need a hand?” he asked, his voice low, almost teasing.

She hesitated, her gaze flicking from his face to the box in her arms and then back again. He noticed how she clutched it tighter, like she wasn’t sure if she should trust him.

“It’s fine,” she said quickly, her voice as soft and sweet as he’d imagined. “I’ve got it.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” he said, stepping closer. Before she could protest, he reached out and took the box from her. Their fingers brushed, and the contrast hit him like a punch to the gut. Her hands were soft, smooth, and clean, while his were rough, calloused, and stained with grease that never seemed to wash off.

“Thanks,” she said reluctantly, looking up at him. He noticed how small she seemed compared to him, how her cross caught the light even in the dark.

“You’re the boy that fixes Daddy’s car,” she said after a beat. “From the shop in town.”

Max raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Didn’t know you knew me.”

“I don’t,” she said quickly, her cheeks flushing. “I just… heard Daddy talking about you. Said you do good work.”

He smirked at that, carrying the box like it weighed nothing and setting it gently down beside her. “Guess I’m a little famous, then.”

She laughed softly, and it was the kind of sound that made something deep in his chest tighten. She reached for her key again, this time managing to lock the doors without the box in her way.

“Thanks for the help,” she said, stepping back and brushing her hands against her skirt.

“Anytime,” he replied, his grin widening. He leaned against the doors, watching her as she adjusted her bag over her shoulder. “What’s your name?”

She hesitated for a moment, her lips parting as if she were about to answer, but then she shook her head. “I should go. My family will be waiting.”

And just like that, she was walking away, her head held high, her skirt swaying gently with each step.

Max watched her until she disappeared around the corner, his grin fading into something darker, more determined.

“See you around,” he muttered under his breath.

Because he would. One way or another.

Max didn’t see her again for days, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t on his mind. She had a way of lingering there, like the scent of rain after a storm—clean, fresh, and completely out of place in his world.

The more he thought about her, the more he couldn’t shake the way her voice had sounded when she’d called him "the boy that fixes Daddy’s car." There was no judgment in it, no disdain. Just a simple observation, like she hadn’t even realised how different their worlds were.

But Max knew. Oh, he knew.

She was the preacher’s daughter, for God’s sake. The girl who probably spent her nights reading scripture and praying for sinners like him. And he? He was the guy people crossed the street to avoid, the one mothers warned their daughters about. He’d left home at fifteen, slept on park benches and under bridges until he’d scraped together enough to buy that rusted-out trailer. He worked double shifts at the garage, spent his weekends drinking cheap beer with guys who wouldn’t bat an eye at a bar fight, and had a reputation that kept most people from looking him in the eye.

He wasn’t good enough for her. He knew that.

Didn’t mean he didn’t want her anyway.

The next Wednesday, he found himself back outside the church, parked in the same spot as before. He hadn’t planned it—at least, that’s what he told himself. But when he saw her again, her laugh carrying across the parking lot as she said goodbye to the last of her Bible study group, he felt that same pull in his chest.

This time, he didn’t approach her. Not yet. Instead, he leaned against his shit box car and watched as she locked the doors, her movements quick and practiced. She wasn’t carrying anything tonight, but she still seemed to pause for a moment, glancing around like she could feel his eyes on her.

He ducked his head, pretending to light a cigarette even though it was already burning. When he glanced back up, she was gone.

The next few days passed in a blur of oil changes, engine repairs, and sleepless nights. Max couldn’t shake the image of her—the way her hands had brushed his, the way she’d looked at him like she was trying to figure him out.

By the time Sunday rolled around, he couldn’t stay away.

He parked his bike a few blocks from the church, out of sight, and watched as families filed in for the morning service. They were all dressed in their Sunday best—dads in pressed suits, moms in floral dresses, kids squirming in their fancy clothes.

And then there she was, walking up the steps with her family. She wore a white dress that stopped just below her knees, her hair pulled back in a way that showed off the delicate line of her neck. The silver cross around her neck gleamed in the sunlight, and Max found himself staring at it, wondering what it would look like tangled with the chains he wore.

Her father was at her side, his hand resting protectively on her shoulder as he greeted the congregation. He was everything Max wasn’t—clean-cut, well-spoken, a man who commanded respect just by standing there.

Max stayed until the doors closed behind her, then turned and walked back to his bike.

He didn’t know what he was doing, or why he couldn’t just let it go. All he knew was that he’d see her again.

And when he did, he’d make her notice him.

Max didn’t plan to follow her after the service, not really. But when he saw her step out of the church alone, her family nowhere in sight, curiosity got the better of him. She walked with purpose, her hands clutching a small book—probably her Bible, he figured—and her expression calm, like she knew exactly where she was going.

He stayed a block or so behind, keeping his footsteps quiet on the pavement. She didn’t seem like the type to sneak off after church, and yet, here she was, turning off the main road and heading toward the park.

When she reached a shaded bench near the pond, she sat down, smoothing her dress before opening her book. Max hung back, watching as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and began to read, her lips moving silently.

He couldn’t stop himself. Hands shoved in his pockets, he sauntered over, his boots crunching on the gravel path. She looked up as he approached, her eyes widening for a moment before settling into something softer, almost expectant.

“I told my daddy I saw you,” she said, closing the book and resting it on her lap.

Max raised an eyebrow, his smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And what did he say?”

“That I shouldn’t hang around with people like you,” she replied simply, her voice steady, but her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the book.

He stepped closer, leaning down slightly so they were almost at eye level. “But I don’t see you running,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing.

Her cheeks flushed, but she held his gaze, her expression unflinching. “I’ve noticed you, you know,” she said, tilting her head. “You’re always… around. Outside the church. Watching.”

He straightened up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can’t help it,” he admitted. “You’re hard to ignore.”

She blinked, her lashes fluttering like she wasn’t sure what to make of that. Then, to his surprise, she smiled—a small, hesitant thing that made his chest ache in a way he wasn’t used to.

“I’ve been praying for you,” she said softly, her hands tightening on the book.

Max couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped him, low and rough. “Praying for me, huh? What for?”

“That you’ll find peace,” she said simply, her voice so earnest it made him pause.

He looked at her, really looked at her—the way the sunlight caught in her hair, the way her fingers trembled just a little against the leather cover of her book, the way she seemed so fragile and so unshakable all at once.

“Peace,” he repeated, the word foreign on his tongue. “You think that’s something I’m missing?”

Her smile grew just a fraction, her eyes softening. “Don’t you?”

For a moment, he didn’t know what to say. He wanted to laugh it off, to brush her words aside like they didn’t hit somewhere deep and uncomfortable. But the way she was looking at him made it impossible.

She shifted slightly on the bench, her hands resting in her lap as she looked at him. “Everyone finds their way,” she said softly, her voice carrying the kind of conviction that made Max’s chest ache. “One way or another. You just have to be willing to see it.”

Max wanted to scoff, to tell her he didn’t have a “way” to find, but the words died in his throat when he noticed it—a faint bruise just below the cuff of her sleeve, barely visible as she adjusted the book in her lap. His eyes narrowed, the casual smirk on his face fading.

“What happened there?” he asked, nodding toward her arm.

She followed his gaze, quickly tugging her sleeve down to cover the mark. “Oh, that?” She gave a small, nervous laugh. “It’s nothing. I play volleyball sometimes with the girls from church. Just got a little too close to the net.”

Max didn’t buy it. The way she spoke, the way her fingers tightened on the fabric of her dress—it didn’t add up. But he didn’t push. Not yet.

“You sure about that?” he asked, his tone light but his eyes sharp.

She nodded quickly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Positive.”

The silence between them stretched, and Max could feel the distance growing, even though they were sitting inches apart.

“I should get home,” she said suddenly, standing and smoothing out her skirt. “It’s getting late.”

He watched as she picked up her book and slung her bag over her shoulder, the hesitant smile she gave him feeling more like a goodbye than a see-you-later.

“You walking?” he asked, standing as well.

She nodded. “It’s not far.”

He didn’t offer to walk her, knowing she’d probably say no. Instead, he stayed where he was, watching her disappear down the path until she was out of sight.

The next Wednesday, Max found himself back at the church. He hadn’t planned it—at least, that’s what he told himself—but when he saw her locking up the doors again, he couldn’t stop himself from approaching.

She glanced up as he stepped up to the doors, her face lighting up with a mixture of surprise and something softer that made his chest tighten.

“You’re here again,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of teasing.

“Couldn’t stay away,” he replied, leaning casually against the doorframe.

She hesitated for a moment, then tilted her head toward the doors. “Do you want to see the inside?”

Max raised an eyebrow. “You offering to give me a tour?”

“Maybe,” she said with a small smile. “If you’re interested.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. Show me.”

She unlocked the doors and pushed them open, leading him into the dimly lit sanctuary. The air was cool and quiet, the kind of silence that felt heavier than normal.

“This is where we hold services,” she said, gesturing toward the rows of wooden pews. “And over there is the choir loft.”

Max followed her, his eyes drifting over the stained-glass windows and the simple but elegant decor. It wasn’t the kind of place he ever pictured himself in, but being here with her made it feel… different.

“And where do you ask for forgiveness?” he asked, his voice low as he stepped closer to her.

She paused, then turned and led him to the front of the church. “Here,” she said, motioning toward the altar. “This is where people kneel to pray.”

Max’s gaze flicked from the altar to her, and for a moment, he couldn’t help the thought that slipped into his mind. The idea of her on her knees, not in prayer but for him, sent a rush of something dark and hungry through him.

She knelt down, her hands clasped in front of her as if demonstrating. “You just… let it all out here. Whatever’s on your heart, you bring it to God.”

He didn’t say anything, just watched her, his throat tightening as the image burned itself into his memory. He wondered, fleetingly, what she’d look like if she weren’t here for forgiveness but for him.

“You going to try?” she asked, looking up at him, her expression earnest and full of trust.

He shook his head, forcing himself to focus. “Not my thing,” he muttered, stepping back.

She stood, brushing off her skirt. “Maybe one day,” she said softly.

Max wasn’t so sure. But he’d come back, if only to see her again.

He didn’t ever think he’d see her in his stomping ground, ever.

The garage smelled like oil and metal, the kind of earthy, gritty scent that clung to Max no matter how much he scrubbed his hands. He was leaned under the hood of an old Chevy—her dad’s car—when he heard the soft jingle of the bell above the shop door.

He straightened, wiping his hands on a rag as she stepped inside. Her presence was like sunlight cutting through the dim, grease-streaked world he lived in.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, leaning against the car and smirking. “Ain’t I usually the one picking you up?”

She stopped a few steps in, her hands clasping the strap of her bag. “I left some college work in my daddy’s car,” she said, her voice steady but careful, like she wasn’t sure how to navigate him in this setting.

Max raised an eyebrow, tossing the rag onto a workbench. “Well, aren’t you lucky I’ve got it right here.”

She hesitated, her eyes flicking to the car before meeting his. “Can I…?”

He stepped aside, gesturing toward the passenger door. “Be my guest.”

She nodded, walking over and leaning into the open door to retrieve her things. Max’s eyes flicked down before he could stop himself, catching a glimpse of her skirt riding up as she bent over, exposing plain white cotton panties that clung to her hips.

It was innocent, unintentional—but it made his pulse spike, his throat tightening as he quickly looked away. His hand clenched into a fist, nails biting into his palm as he forced himself to focus.

Then he saw it—a jagged gash on the side of her thigh, red and raw against her pale skin. His smirk faded, replaced by a frown as something twisted in his gut.

“You gonna tell me what happened there?” he asked, nodding toward her leg.

She froze for a moment before straightening, clutching her notebook tightly against her chest. “Oh,” she said, glancing down at the cut. “It’s nothing. I was playing with my brother in the park, and the ball rolled into some bushes. I went to get it and scratched myself on a branch.”

Max folded his arms, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. “You’ve got an awful lot of bad luck, don’t you? First volleyball, now this.”

Her eyes darted to his, wide and a little panicked. “It’s the truth,” she said quickly, but her voice wavered just enough to betray her.

He stepped closer, his presence looming as he leaned in, his voice a low whisper. “Lying’s a sin, you know.”

Her lips parted, and for a moment, she looked like she might crumble. But then her shoulders straightened, and she lifted her chin, defiance flashing in her eyes. “I believe you should worry about the long list of sins you’ve racked up,” she shot back, her voice trembling but firm.

Max smirked at that, the sharp edge of his grin making her swallow hard. “I thought you were praying for me,” he said, his tone almost teasing but laced with something darker.

She stared at him, her hands tightening on her notebook until her knuckles turned white. “I should go,” she said finally, her voice clipped.

“Don’t let me stop you,” he replied, stepping back just enough to let her pass.

She turned and walked out, her steps quick and purposeful, the door swinging shut behind her with a jingle that felt louder than it should have.

Max watched her go, the tension in his chest twisting into something heavier. He didn’t believe her for a second. But the look in her eyes—the mix of fear, defiance, and something else he couldn’t quite name—made him want to figure out exactly what she was hiding.

And he would. One way or another.

A few days later, Max was leaning under the hood of yet another clunker when his manager strolled over, clipboard in hand.

“Got a favor to ask,” the older man grumbled. “Preacher’s too busy to pick up his car. Needs it dropped off at his place.”

Max straightened, rubbing his hands on a rag, his pulse quickening at the mention of her house. He didn’t even have to think about it.

“I’ll do it,” he said casually, masking the eagerness bubbling under his skin. “Got time.”

His manager raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” Max tossed the rag aside, the corner of his mouth tugging into a grin. “Consider it handled.”

By the time he pulled up to the preacher’s house in the old Chevy, the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting the house in a warm, golden light. He killed the engine, climbing out and leaning against the car for a moment.

That’s when he heard it.

The sound drifted through the open window—a soft, mournful piano melody that sent a shiver down his spine. It was beautiful, haunting even, and he knew immediately that it was her.

He stood there, listening, his chest tightening as each note seemed to carry a weight he couldn’t quite place. Then, as the song trailed off, he forced himself to move, stepping up to the door and knocking firmly.

The music stopped. A few seconds later, the door creaked open, and there she was.

She looked different. Vulnerable.

Her hair was loose, falling in soft waves over her shoulders, and she was wearing a simple pair of pyjamas—pale blue cotton shorts and an oversized t-shirt that hung loosely on her frame. She blinked up at him, clearly surprised, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “Brought your dad’s car back.”

“Thanks,” she said, her voice soft and a little hoarse.

His eyes drifted lower, and that’s when he saw it—a dark, fresh bruise blooming along her forearm, just visible under the edge of her sleeve.

His chest tightened, and before he could stop himself, his hand reached out, his rough fingers brushing against the tender skin.

She flinched, but not away. Her lips parted, her eyes flicking up to meet his, wide and uncertain.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice low but laced with tension.

She pulled her arm back, wrapping it around herself like a shield. “I’ve been sick,” she murmured, her words hesitant. “That’s why I’ve been home. Just… clumsy, I guess.”

He didn’t believe her. Not for a second.

“Sick, huh?” he said, his voice edged with scepticism.

She nodded, but the way her gaze darted to the floor gave her away.

For a moment, the air between them felt heavy, charged with something neither of them seemed able to name. Max’s hand hovered at his side, aching to reach out again, but he forced himself to step back.

The sound of heavy footsteps broke the moment, and Max turned just as her father appeared in the doorway.

“Evening,” the preacher said, his voice warm but commanding, his eyes flicking between Max and his daughter.

“Car’s good as new,” Max said, holding out the keys. “She’ll run smooth for you.”

“Appreciate it,” the preacher replied, taking the keys with a nod.

Max hesitated, glancing at her one last time. “You know where to find me if you need anything. Always here for you to rely on the car.”

His words were meant for her father, but his eyes stayed on her, making sure she understood the double meaning.

The preacher didn’t seem to notice. “Thank you, son,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a crisp bill. He handed it to Max with a firm handshake.

Max nodded, pocketing the tip without looking at it. As he stepped back, the preacher gave him a polite smile before closing the door firmly, leaving Max staring at the wood grain.

The following morning sun filtered weakly through the dusty blinds of Max’s trailer, casting long shadows over the cluttered space. He was sprawled on his bed, one leg hanging off the side, barely awake when he heard it—a soft, hesitant knock at the door.

For a moment, he thought he was imagining it, the sound so light it could’ve been the wind rattling the screen. But then it came again, firmer this time.

Grumbling under his breath, Max swung his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing a hand over his face. He shuffled to the door in nothing but his boxers, too groggy to care about decency.

When he pulled the door open, he froze.

There she was, standing on the cracked wooden steps of his trailer.

She looked like she’d stepped out of another world—her crisp white blouse tucked into a pale blue skirt that swayed lightly in the breeze, her hair perfectly combed and pinned back. But her eyes were red-rimmed, her cheeks blotchy, and there was a tremble in her lip that told him she’d been crying.

Her gaze flicked downward, catching sight of his bare chest and boxer-clad frame. Her face flushed pink, and she quickly looked away, clutching the strap of her bag so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Max blinked, his grogginess evaporating in an instant. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice rough from sleep.

She didn’t answer right away, just stared down at the ground like she couldn’t meet his eyes. He stepped back, holding the door open wider. “You wanna come in?”

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, stepping over the threshold.

As she entered, the contrast between her polished appearance and the rough, lived-in state of his trailer couldn’t have been starker. The cramped space was cluttered with tools, half-empty coffee mugs, and a laundry basket overflowing with clothes. She looked out of place, like a dove dropped into the middle of a storm.

Max closed the door behind her, leaning against it as he crossed his arms. “You okay?” he asked, his tone softer now.

She stood in the middle of the room, her arms wrapped around herself. “I… I didn’t want to stay at home,” she said quietly.

The way her voice cracked on the last word made his chest tighten.

“What happened?” he asked, stepping closer but keeping his distance, giving her space to speak.

She shook her head, her fingers gripping her bag tighter. “I… I snuck out,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I couldn’t stay there anymore.”

Max’s jaw tightened. He wanted to ask why, but he already knew. He’d known for weeks.

Finally, she looked up at him, tears brimming in her wide, frightened eyes. “It’s my daddy,” she whispered. “He… he hits me.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and raw.

Max’s fists clenched at his sides, his whole body going rigid. “How long’s this been going on?” he asked, his voice low and tight.

She looked away, her gaze darting to the corner of the room as if she could hide from the question. “As long as I can remember,” she said finally, her voice barely audible.

Max swore under his breath, running a hand through his hair. He wanted to punch something, to drag her father out into the street and make him pay. But more than anything, he wanted to make her feel safe.

“You should’ve told someone,” he said, his voice softer now, though the anger still simmered just beneath the surface.

Her eyes snapped back to his, a flash of fear and desperation in them. “I couldn’t,” she said quickly. “I can’t. If people knew, it’d ruin everything. My daddy’s the preacher. People look up to him. They’d never believe me.”

Max stepped closer, his rough hands itching to reach out and touch her, to ground her somehow. But he didn’t. Not yet.

“You don’t have to go back there,” he said firmly. “You can stay here. No one’s gonna hurt you while I’m around.”

Her gaze softened, her lips trembling as she whispered, “Why do you care so much?”

Max let out a low, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “You think I can just stand by and let this happen? After everything I’ve seen…” He paused, meeting her gaze head-on. “You’re not like the rest of us. You don’t belong in a place like that.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, the space between them felt charged, heavy with unspoken words. She looked like she might say something, but then a tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away quickly.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” she said suddenly, backing toward the door. “I didn’t mean to bother you—”

“You’re not bothering me,” Max said firmly, cutting her off.

She hesitated, her hand hovering near the door handle.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading.

She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face as if trying to decide whether she could trust him. Finally, she nodded, just barely, and let her hand fall away from the door.

Max rubbed the back of his neck again, his eyes never leaving her face as she stood there, caught between leaving and staying. He could see the battle in her—wanting to run but needing something, someone, to anchor her.

“You can stay here tonight,” he said, his voice steady but gentle, like he was trying not to spook her.

Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, she didn’t respond. She looked around the cramped trailer, at the cluttered counters and the sagging couch, her delicate hands gripping the strap of her bag like it was a lifeline.

“I don’t know…” she started, her voice faltering.

“No one’ll bother you here,” Max said, stepping closer. “You’ll be safe. And if you want to leave in the morning, you can. No strings.”

She bit her lip, the hesitation etched in every line of her face.

“But…” she whispered, looking up at him, “I need to go to Sunday service.”

Max blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in her tone.

“While I’m mad at my daddy,” she continued, her voice growing steadier, “I still have to go. I can’t not be there. It’s… it’s important to me.”

Her words hung in the air, a quiet plea wrapped in conviction.

Max nodded without hesitation. “I’ll take you,” he said simply. “First thing in the morning.”

She blinked up at him, a flicker of relief crossing her features. “You promise?”

“Yeah,” he said, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Scout’s honor.”

That drew a small, hesitant smile from her, though it quickly faded as her gaze dropped to the floor again.

“I’ll stay,” she said softly, almost like she didn’t believe the words herself.

Max exhaled, the tension in his chest easing just slightly. “Good. Make yourself at home,” he said, gesturing vaguely around the trailer. “It’s not much, but it’s better than where you came from.”

She nodded, her movements stiff and unsure, like she didn’t quite know how to exist in this space.

“I gotta get to work,” Max added, glancing at the clock on the wall. “But you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. Bed is yours, and there’s food in the fridge—though, fair warning, it’s mostly leftovers and beer.”

That earned him a faint, almost amused look, and he felt a strange sense of satisfaction at the sight.

“I’ll be fine,” she said quietly.

Max hesitated for a moment, then reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. His touch was light, careful, but firm enough to ground her.

“You’re safe here,” he said, his voice low but certain.

She nodded again, her gaze flicking up to meet his, and for a moment, the silence between them felt warm, comforting.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” he said, stepping toward his makeshift bedroom grabbing some clothes and slipping them on. “If you need anything—anything at all—you call me, alright? Danny down the road has my number, he’s got the graffiti all over his trailer.”

“Alright,” she replied, her voice steadier now.

With one last glance over his shoulder, Max stepped out into the morning light, the door clicking shut behind him. As he walked toward his beat-up car, a strange mix of emotions swirled in his chest—anger, protectiveness, and something else he couldn’t quite name.

She’d taken a risk coming to him, and he wasn’t about to let her down. Not now. Not ever.

Max worked through the afternoon with his head barely in the game. The thought of her in his trailer—his space—kept creeping into his mind. He couldn’t shake the image of her standing there, looking so out of place, like she belonged somewhere far away from this rundown world he inhabited. The image of her soft eyes and trembling lip haunted him as he fixed engines and cleaned up at the shop.

By the time he came back to the trailer, the evening sun had already dipped behind the horizon, casting a pale, dusky glow over everything. He turned the key in the door, the familiar creak of the hinges echoing in the quiet.

And then he froze.

The trailer didn’t look the same.

It was spotless.

The clutter on the counters, the dirty dishes, the laundry piled up in the corner—all of it was gone. The floor was swept, the counters wiped down, and there was even a faint smell of something cooking, something hearty and savory. Max took a step inside, his eyes scanning the room as if he was seeing it for the first time.

And there she was, standing in the kitchen.

She had slipped into one of his old band t-shirts—black and faded with the edges curling up—and paired it with the skirt she’d worn earlier. Her hair was still down, a little messy from the day, but there was something about the way she moved around his space that made her seem... at ease. She was focused on the stove, stirring something in a pot, humming quietly to herself as if she belonged.

Max felt a sudden knot in his stomach, a wave of desire mixed with something deeper—something protective. He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping down to her legs, exposed beneath the hem of the shirt, and then back up to her face. She didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in what she was doing, and he took a few moments to just watch her.

She looked so out of place in his world—his messy, cluttered world—but at the same time, she fit perfectly.

She caught sight of him, and a warm, almost shy smile spread across her face. "I wasn’t sure what you liked, but I found some stuff in the cupboard. It’s not much, but I thought… I could make you something."

Max’s chest tightened at the sincerity in her voice. He had no idea she could cook.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he said, his voice rough with something unspoken. He stepped further into the trailer, noticing that she’d even made the bed. The blankets were neatly arranged, the pillow fluffed, the whole room looking like it belonged in some kind of hotel. It felt... new.

She shrugged, a little embarrassed. "It's the least I could do. You’ve been so kind to me... I wanted to help, in some way."

Max ran a hand over his jaw, fighting the urge to reach out and pull her close. Her presence was intoxicating, her gentle kindness disarming. The way she stood there, so effortless in his space, made something inside him shift. His heart beat faster as he moved toward the kitchen, unable to resist the pull of her.

She turned back to the stove, unaware of the war going on inside him. He couldn’t help but glance at the way her shirt rode up on her thighs, the curve of her hips, and the soft skin of her exposed legs. His mind flashed to earlier—when she’d stepped into his trailer with those wide eyes, trembling and vulnerable. And now, she was here, looking like she belonged to him in ways she probably didn’t even realise.

His hands clenched at his sides. He needed to calm down.

“You didn’t have to clean everything up,” he said, trying to focus on something other than how badly he wanted to kiss her, touch her, feel her beneath his hands.

“I don’t mind,” she replied, her voice soft. “It felt wrong to just sit around, so I figured I could do something. It’s a mess here, but I… I wanted it to feel like home for a bit.”

Home.

The word hit him harder than he expected. Max didn’t know what it meant to feel at home. His life had always been a constant hustle, scraping by, living in his car, barely getting by. But here, with her, in the middle of this trailer—he felt like maybe he could understand it, just a little bit.

She stirred the pot again, and Max took a deep breath. His body was tight with the need to do something—to touch her, hold her—but he fought it down.

He stepped closer, casually leaning against the counter. “You sure you’re okay with all this?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light, casual.

She glanced at him, her eyes soft but unreadable. “I’m okay,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. She seemed to hesitate for a moment before continuing, her gaze steady. “I just… I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m scared, Max.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and before he could stop himself, he reached out, his fingers brushing the back of her hand. Her skin was soft, delicate, and his pulse skipped in response. She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t look at him either.

Max leaned in just slightly, his breath catching in his throat as he whispered, “I’ll keep you safe, I swear.”

There was a moment of silence. And then, in the quietest voice, almost as if she were speaking to herself, she whispered, “I believe you.”

And in that moment, something inside Max shifted completely. He didn’t just want her. He needed to protect her. To keep her from harm.

The tension in the air was thick, and he knew if he didn’t walk away now, he wouldn’t be able to control himself. His hand lingered on hers for just a second longer before he pulled away, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Let’s eat,” he said, trying to mask the urgency in his voice, trying to ground himself again.

Max didn’t have a proper dining table—hell, he barely had enough room for his sofa—but tonight, that didn’t matter.

He took a seat on the old sofa, and she settled beside him, carefully placing the plates of food between them. The smell of whatever she’d made filled the air—something simple but satisfying, with just a hint of warmth that made it feel like a real meal. It was the first time in a while that Max had felt something other than hunger when he sat down to eat.

As she set her fork down and looked at her hands, she murmured something under her breath, her voice soft and steady. Max was halfway through a bite when he realised she was praying.

He watched her quietly, noting the calmness in her demeanor, the way her hands were folded neatly in front of her. Her lips moved with the words, a quiet reverence that made the air in the room feel still, almost sacred.

When she finished, she looked at him, a small, shy smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Sorry,” she said, her cheeks flushed. “It’s just… habit.”

Max shook his head, swallowing the lump in his throat. “No need to apologise,” he said, his voice softer than usual. He found it cute—no, charming—how she prayed before every meal, how that simple act of faith seemed to give her some semblance of peace. He had no idea what that kind of peace felt like.

They ate quietly, the sound of forks scraping against plates the only noise between them. There was something almost intimate about this simple moment—the way she sat beside him, the way she kept her space but still seemed to fill the room.

It wasn’t long before Max’s mind started to wander again, and his gaze drifted down to her hand as she picked up her glass of water. He noticed the ring on her finger, the simple silver band catching the light.

“What’s that?” he asked, his voice casual, though his stomach clenched slightly.

She looked down at it, almost absentmindedly, before meeting his gaze. “It’s a purity ring,” she said, her voice quiet, almost reverent.

Max froze, his fork half-raised to his mouth. A purity ring. The thought hit him like a punch to the gut, a wave of something dark and primal swirling beneath the surface. She wore it like a promise, a promise to stay pure, to wait for marriage, to avoid the kinds of things he’d spent most of his life seeking out—things he wasn’t sure he could even offer her if she wanted them.

His thoughts scrambled, his chest tightening. He forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat and shifted on the couch, trying to ignore the tightening in his jeans. He couldn’t help himself. The idea of her—innocent, pure, wearing a ring like that—drove him mad. It made him think things he shouldn’t, things that went against the very core of who she was.

He cleared his throat, trying to distract himself from the thoughts swirling in his head. “I, uh… I think you should take the bed,” he said abruptly. “I’ll crash here on the couch.”

She gave him a soft look, her expression kind, though there was something in her eyes that told him she wasn’t used to accepting charity—or favours of any kind.

“Thank you,” she said, glancing at the bed and then back at him.

She stood up, taking both their plates to the sink and left him in the makeshift living room.

Max settled back onto the small couch, but sleep didn’t come easy. He was restless, his mind too filled with thoughts of her, her innocence, her sweetness, and that damn purity ring. Even though there was a whole doorframe separating the two of them, the room felt too small. His chest too tight. His body too aware of everything that was happening in that tiny space between them.

Eventually, he shifted again, sighing in frustration as he tossed the blanket off of himself. The couch wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was too small for someone his size. He needed to stretch out.

A few minutes later, he heard the soft creak of the floorboards. He turned his head slightly, squinting through the dim light. She was standing in the doorway, her silhouette outlined by the faint glow of his beside table.

“Max?” Her voice was soft, tentative.

He sat up, blinking. “Yeah?”

“I—uh, I can’t sleep,” she admitted, stepping further into the room. “And you look... uncomfortable on the couch.” She hesitated, then bit her lip. “Would you, um, want to sleep in the bed with me? Just... just for tonight?”

Max felt his breath catch in his throat. He should’ve said no. He knew he should’ve. But she was standing there in his shirt, her hair falling messily around her shoulders, and her eyes—those soft, uncertain eyes—were pleading with him in a way that made him feel like he was the one who needed her comfort.

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice tight.

She nodded, her hands trembling just slightly as she pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Please. I just—” She paused, biting her lip, as if searching for the right words. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Max’s heart twisted in his chest. He could’ve said something else—told her it was fine, that she should rest, or something like that. But he was done with pretending he didn’t want to be close to her, to feel her next to him.

“Alright,” he muttered, standing up. “But, uh... let me put on a shirt.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and he could’ve sworn he saw the smallest flicker of a smile on her lips. “Okay,” she whispered, turning her back to give him some space.

He grabbed a random shirt from the pile of clean laundry on the floor, pulling it on over his bare chest, and then slipped under the covers beside her. She had already crawled under the blankets, pulling them tightly around her.

Max settled in beside her, keeping a careful distance at first. But the bed was small, and it didn’t take long for her to inch closer. He could feel her warmth at his side, the soft rise and fall of her chest with each breath, the delicate scent of her hair mixing with the familiar scent of his worn sheets.

The morning light filtered through the thin curtains of the trailer, casting a soft glow across the room. Max slowly woke up, his eyes still heavy with sleep. He shifted slightly, feeling the warmth of her body pressed against his side. Her head rested on his chest, her soft breathing filling the quiet room.

For a moment, Max just stayed still, letting the comfort of her closeness wash over him. His arm had instinctively wrapped around her while they slept, and he could feel the warmth of her skin beneath the thin fabric of his shirt.

But as his body began to wake up fully, so did a familiar discomfort: the pressure of his morning problem, straining against the fabric of his boxers. His breath caught, and he tried to shift subtly, hoping she wouldn’t wake up and notice the situation. She didn’t. She just remained nestled against him, her breath slow and steady.

Max let out a slow breath, trying to ignore the growing tension in his body. He kept his arm around her for a moment longer, relishing the softness of her against him, before reluctantly moving it.

Her movements eventually stirred him from his thoughts, though. He felt her shift and heard her small, quiet sigh as she began to stir. She slowly pushed herself up and away from him, the weight of her head leaving his chest.

Max watched as she stood up, stretching lightly before walking toward the small kitchen area. The simple act of her moving around his trailer felt domestic, a little surreal. He never imagined a girl like her would be here, in his space, making herself at home.

She turned on the old coffee maker and started washing the dishes from the night before, humming softly to herself. Her bare feet moved across the worn linoleum floor as she worked, picking up the plates, scrubbing them clean with a kind of focused determination. Max watched her, a little mesmerised by the way she went about everything with ease. She was so domestic, so... pure.

After a while, she glanced over her shoulder, catching his eye. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said quietly. “I usually make something nice on a Sunday.”

Max shook his head, trying to get his bearings. “I don’t mind at all.” His voice was still rough with sleep. “Thank you.”

She smiled softly and got to work, preparing eggs, toast, and whatever else she could find in his meager supplies. Max sat up, rubbing his eyes. He watched her as she moved, the way her shirt clung to her in all the right places, how she seemed so comfortable here despite how out of place she looked in his world.

Eventually, she finished up with the dishes and turned to him. “I need to get ready for church.” Her eyes softened a little, as though she could sense the hesitation in his. “Can y—“

“I’ll take you. I just don’t have a car right now. It’s in the garage.”

Her eyebrows lifted slightly, and for a moment, Max thought she might protest, but instead, she just nodded. “Okay.”

He took a quick shower and threw on some old jeans and a t-shirt. He didn’t exactly have a wardrobe that screamed “church-going,” but it was the best he could do. He wasn’t there to make a statement anyway—just to get her there and make sure she was safe.

When he stepped out of the small bathroom, he found her already dressed in her Sunday best—yesterday’s shirt and skirt with a cardigan she must have pulled out her bag. Her hair was perfectly styled, like she’d just walked out of a church bulletin. She looked so out of place in his trailer, so polished and pristine compared to the worn, dirty space they were in.

Max grabbed his helmet and walked over to her, holding it out. “Here,” he said, the words laced with a slight smirk. “You’re gonna need this.”

She looked at him curiously but didn’t argue. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. You’re not walking to church, and you’re definitely not riding behind me without it.” He grinned, clearly enjoying her discomfort.

With a small, reluctant smile, she took the helmet from him, adjusting it over her head, the loose strands of her hair sticking out slightly. Max handed her the extra jacket he had and then motioned to the door. “Let’s get going. I’ll get you there early so no one sees you.”

She nodded, slipping on the jacket and walking toward the door with him. Max grabbed the keys to his bike and headed outside, securing the helmet on her head.

The engine of his old bike roared to life, the sound rattling the air around them. Max felt the familiar rush of adrenaline, the wind in his face as they drove, but his focus wasn’t on the speed or the feel of the bike. It was on her, sitting behind him, her body pressed close to his, the weight of her on his back both grounding and electrifying him.

They took the back roads, keeping a low profile, making sure no one would notice them together. Max didn’t want to bring any attention to her. He didn’t want anyone to see her with him, not yet. She was too pure, too innocent to be caught up in his world.

They arrived just before everyone else, the small church looming in front of them as the sun began to rise. Max parked the bike in the back and cut the engine, then turned to look at her.

“Thanks for coming with me,” she said softly, slipping off the bike.

Max nodded, watching her walk toward the steps of the church, her figure straight and composed. As she walked away from him, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of something—something he couldn’t quite name. It was a mix of jealousy, admiration, and something darker that he didn’t want to acknowledge.

He didn’t know why he stayed in the parking lot. Maybe it was the quiet that clung to the air after the service ended, or maybe it was the feeling of something unfinished between him and her. He waited, watching as the congregation filed out of the church, families chatting, some with smiles on their faces, others with the weight of the week still on their shoulders.

He saw her mother, walking alongside her brother, exchanging a few words with the other churchgoers. But no sign of her. His gaze swept over the parking lot once more, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Maybe she had stayed behind for a little longer.

Minutes passed, and Max’s unease grew. She hadn’t come out.

Frowning, he swung his leg off the bike and walked toward the church’s front doors. He didn’t know why he felt compelled to check on her, but something in him insisted. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, as if sensing danger.

Max approached the side of the church, his boots scraping the gravel beneath him. A faint voice reached his ears—just a whisper at first, but then it grew louder, more frantic. It sounded like shouting, distorted by the walls of the building, but it was unmistakably hers.

His heart skipped a beat.

He moved quickly toward the sound, pushing open a side door. The hallway inside was dimly lit, the walls cold and echoing with every step. He followed the noise, barely hearing his own footsteps as he crept closer to the source.

And then he saw them.

She was on the floor, her hands trembling in front of her, her back hunched as though she was trying to make herself as small as possible. Her father was standing over her, his voice a low growl of fury, loud enough to rattle the air between them.

“You’re a dirty slut!” he spat. “You’re going to hell for what you’ve done!”

Max’s blood ran cold, and for a moment, he didn’t think.

With a quick motion, he stepped forward, his voice calm but cold. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The preacher spun around, his face twisted with rage, recognizing Max.

“Stay out of this, boy,” the preacher growled, his hand still raised in the air.

But before the preacher could make another move, she stood up, her breath ragged, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and something else—hope? Maybe it was desperation.

Without a second thought, she ran toward Max. She didn’t hesitate, her arms reaching out to him as if he were her only anchor in the storm.

“Max,” she whispered, almost too softly to hear, but Max felt the weight of it all the same.

Max put his hands on her shoulders, turning her so that she was standing slightly behind him. His eyes never left the preacher, his voice steady.

“You know, preacher,” Max began, his voice low and measured, “God loves justice and establishes equity.” He tilted his head slightly, as if recalling something. “Psalm 99:4, right? I’m sure that’s a scripture I heard your daughter read once in Bible study. Can’t be exerting your authority in such ways, can you?”

The preacher’s face went red with anger, his hands balling into fists. “Get out of here, boy. This is none of your business.”

Max didn’t flinch. “You’re right,” he said calmly. “It’s none of my business. But I’ll make sure it’s yours.”

He motioned to her. “Go wait by the bike.” His voice softened just for her, the harshness fading away. “Go on, I’ll be right there.”

She hesitated for just a moment, looking at him like she wanted to say something, but instead, she turned and walked quickly toward the door. Max watched her go, his heart pounding in his chest.

The preacher made a move to stop her, but Max stepped forward, his patience snapping.

“Don’t you ever touch her again,” Max growled.

The preacher lunged at him, but Max was faster, his fist connecting with the preacher’s jaw before he had a chance to land a blow. The sound of the punch echoed in the small hallway, and the preacher staggered backward, his hands gripping the edge of the wall for support.

Max stepped forward, his voice cold. “I don’t care who you think you are. You put your hands on her again, and I’ll make sure you regret it.”

The preacher was on his knees now, his face a mixture of shock and fury. Max didn’t wait to hear more. He turned on his heel, walking out the door to find her standing by his bike, waiting as if she hadn’t just been on the receiving end of a storm.

He nodded to her, not saying anything more, his mind racing with the anger he’d just unleashed. But all he wanted now was to get her away from here, away from him.

“Let’s go,” he said softly, handing her the helmet.

She didn’t say anything as she put it on, but the silent understanding between them spoke volumes. Max revved the engine, feeling the rush of power beneath him as he led her away from the church, away from the hell that had just erupted there.

The ride back to the trailer was eerily quiet. Max could feel the tension in the air between them, thick and heavy, the weight of everything that had just happened hanging between them. She sat behind him, her grip tight on his waist, but there was no laughter, no playful banter like there had been before. It felt like the world had shifted somehow, and the silence stretched endlessly as they rode.

Max didn’t glance back at her. He kept his eyes straight ahead, focusing on the road, but all he could think about was what he’d just done. He knew he’d put himself in danger, confronting her father like that. He didn’t care. But for the first time, he couldn’t ignore the burning question: What did he really think he was doing?

The only sound on the road was the roar of the engine beneath them, a constant reminder of the distance they had yet to travel. Every twist and turn of the road seemed to reflect the turmoil inside of him, but he had no words for it, no way to express the chaos in his head.

When they finally pulled into the trailer park, the sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows across the worn pavement. Max parked the bike and cut the engine, the sudden silence of the world around them making the tension between them all the more palpable.

They didn’t speak as they walked inside, the door creaking as it opened into the small, dimly lit space. Max stepped aside to let her enter first, but the moment the door closed behind them, she removed the helmet and her composure seemed to crumble.

She stood there for a long moment, just breathing, as if she was trying to collect herself, but it was clear she wasn’t okay. Max watched her, his heart tightening when he saw the tears beginning to well in her eyes. She couldn’t hold it back anymore.

Before he could say anything, she collapsed into him. Her body shook as she buried her face against his chest, her sobs muffled against his shirt. Max’s arms instinctively wrapped around her, pulling her in close, his own breath shaky from the unexpected surge of emotion he felt at seeing her so broken.

“It’s okay,” he whispered softly, his voice a soothing murmur. “I’ve got you, shhh.”

She didn’t respond, just continued to cry, the sound raw and heartbreaking. Max gently ran his hand down her back, trying to comfort her in the only way he knew how. He wiped the tears off her face with his thumb, brushing her hair back from her forehead. His chest tightened with every sob that wracked her body, every quiet sob that he couldn’t take away.

“Don’t cry,” he said quietly, though his words felt powerless against the pain she was clearly feeling. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I swear it, sweetheart.”

She pulled away slightly, her tear-streaked face making his chest ache even more. Her eyes were wide and vulnerable, a rawness that shook him to his core. She didn’t say anything; she didn’t need to. He could see everything in her expression, the hurt and confusion and fear.

Without a word, Max guided her to the small bed in the corner of the trailer, not sure what else to do. He wanted to fix everything, to make her feel safe, but he knew that wasn’t something he could do with words alone.

They sat on the edge of the bed, and she let him help her lie down. He crawled in next to her, his arm draping over her shoulders as she curled up against him. The space felt small, but it was warm. She was warm.

Max didn’t say anything as he laid beside her, his chest rising and falling with every breath he took. He just held her. The silence between them was heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was quiet, like the calm after the storm, both of them lost in the stillness of the moment.

Her breathing eventually slowed, her sobs quieter now, though her body still trembled slightly from the emotions that had flooded her. Max stayed close, not letting go. His fingers gently traced the outline of her arm as he held her close, not knowing exactly what to say to make it better, but knowing that being there, holding her, was enough—for now.

“I’m here,” he whispered again, his voice soft and unwavering, as he placed a soft kiss to her forehead. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not anymore.”

Then a weird thought came to Max as he watched hee sleep in his arms.

She’d prayed for his peace.

And while he wasn’t a believer.

He sure as hell felt at peace.

part two out now!