#again shocked I don’t draw them more

[ghostingink]

I haven’t like actually finsihed many drawings for a while so here are some sketches again sorry

Also art style change

[everwisp]

double trouble 🙂🙃

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: noncon, gangbang, elf-reader, orc captors, racism between orcs and elves, captive reader, enslavement, piss drinking, mindbreak, mentioned toe-sucking and rimming, navigating cultural differences

♡ FEM reader

♡ P1: THE PILLORY

The orc bandits sold your fellow elves off like slaves, but the commander ended up saving you for himself.

You’d been out of it throughout the ordeal. Already with the feeling of being numb, dumb, and tingly from the top of your crown down to the tips of your toes, you’d soon been overcome with fever as if taken by sickness—or withdrawal. Kept warm in the lap of your captor, you could barely keep your eyes open and must have passed out again—all to the sound of your troop's despair as they were bid on individually and dragged off by different buyers, all adorned collars and chains.

When you woke up again, whatever had you so enthralled and pliant was gone, leaving you feeling much like those times you’d woken from drinking more than your limit—along with a sore ache spanning your entire body, leaving you bedridden.  

Lying there, on a massive fur pelt in a fire-heated tent with a pair of shackles upon your ankles, you decide against your former poor judgment of making demands—this time, staying still and deadly silent, causing no fuss and voicing no complaint in petrified fear of the heavyweight resting at your back, breathing soundly like a beast in hibernation.

You still don’t understand what happened—still don’t understand what got into you—why did you act that way? It was as if you’d completely lost your mind—hijacked by something unholy and depraved—something vile. You’d been possessed—you must have been! To be bred by those monsters, swallow their semen—drink their piss. Thinking about it, the shock of it all cancels out the disgust. How could you have done all that? Sure, you were forced, but you could swear… somewhere halfway through, you started to enjoy it.

“Why so quiet, elf-pet?”

He must have felt the shift in your breathing. Beasts of war sleep with one eye open, after all. Still, you don’t answer—you don’t move a muscle. Stiff and lifeless, you remain, even as his hand—the one dwarfing your hip—slides south.

"Afraid to wake me?"

You just swallow thickly with a whimper as his thick orc finger, weathered by labor and battle, pets your naked sex, rubbing your clit before splitting the lips and playing with the poorly treated hole beneath it.

“Where’d all that fight go, hm?” he rumbles at your stillness, amused by it as he prods your entrance and pulls your bottom against his bulge. “Don’t tell me I fucked it all gone…” 

All you do is quake and tremor, even as his digit breaks through and starts prepping you—slipping in and out slowly, drawing slick as if your cunt was already trained to do so.

His pleased hum rumbles at your back, wreaking your bones—making you feel fickle like a sprout.

“Elves make such good pets once you tame them,” he states, chuckling. “You love cock and cum so much it makes you dumb—a single taste of it and even the priggish of elves like you turn into filthy little whores hungry for more.” 

You feel him fatten behind you—clenching your thighs as it swells up against your rear. 

His arm, the one beneath your head you’d been resting on like a pillow, coils around your neck and pulls you back snugly against him. 

“Don’t worry, elf-pet—” he grins, teeth by your ear in heated words, “I’ll keep feeding you good and full.”

And that's how it goes. Anytime you sober up, he fucks you silly—well and truly silly—silly in the way it makes you indiscriminately slurp his cum off the ground and suck his toes and lick his ass and squeal with joy as he swarms your womb with piss, “Ah feels so nice and warm inside—I love being master’s piss-bucket! Thank you!”

It’s been that way for months now.

He’s taken to calling you Putty because of how dumb and malleable you’ve become, eager to do anything he says, just to please. It disgusted you in the beginning, but you’ve since learned to accept the weakness of your nature—if only for the sake of survival and your own sanity. 

There’s no point in beating yourself up about it—not in this godforsaken part of the world where everyone seems out to do it for you.

You’d known orcs were soulless creatures, but truly, nothing could have prepared you for their level of depravity. If you could, you’d stay hidden inside the tent and never expose yourself to the horrors outside—already sated with those you have to endure within its thin drapes. But unfortunately, your master enjoys bringing you with him wherever he goes. 

Many orcs do, you’ve come to understand. They like parading their slaves, mostly fae-folk like you, around—all dressed skimpily, all with collars—nymphs and fairies often with their wings clipped and elves with their heads shaved in shame. 

Today, you’re out walking the market—you, with your leash on, and him, with his fist tugging it close behind him. 

He’s looking at weapons and armor for the most part and the odd toy or article for you. He likes keeping you pretty, in jewelry and sheer silks that let everyone admire what he has warming his bed. 

Since becoming his slave, he’s taken you to get plenty of piercings and markings. You can’t read their scripture, but he’s told you what he’s marked on your pretty skin several times. His name, of which you’re not allowed to speak, paired with his title as your direct master, as well as his guild’s seal, stating their ownership of you—all in three intricate patterns down your right arm. So, even if you ever do get home, you’ll never be able to wash him off. Another train of patterns on your left arm shows your status as a slave and your worth if anyone but your master were to damage or kill you accidentally.

For all their cruelty—you’re surprised by their level of organization. Though you don’t agree with it, you can at least admit that what they have is some variation of civilization—as supremacist as it is. But then again, elves are much the same—always thinking themselves better than everything, even other groups of fae.

It’s funny, but in a way, you’re almost convinced this is divine justice—the gods punishing you for your false sense of superiority by forcing you to live your life in suffering as an orc’s slave. 

It’s a trial—your last chance at redemption before death. Fulfill it, and heaven will be waiting for you with open arms. Yes, that must be it. 

The crowd becomes thicker near the end of the market street. It seems there’s an ongoing roadside show that many are keen on watching. You hear the jeers and hollers, the oos and ahs, and coming out empty-handed from the market trip, it seems the commotion is enough to pique your master’s interest enough to make him battle his way through to the front with you in toe just behind him—paying no mind to how members of the crowd paw at you. 

One is even so brazen to spit on your chest. But it comes as no shock—nor does your master’s indifference. In orc culture, all orcs are masters and can do what they want to any and all slaves with respect to their direct master. In fact, it’s not uncommon to see masters chain their slaves up like mutts in the street—free for all to have a go.

Actually, you can bet that’s what gathered this flock.

And sure enough, you’re spot on. 

Three fellow fae are on display up on the stage, naked and drenched in cum and sweat and other fluids—all made fully dumb by it.

You’ve theorized why over the months of being subjected to it and could only come up with one sound theory to explain it. Orc fluids must contain strong aphrodisiac properties, maybe even other substances that make their victims so agreeable—a type of natural incentive, possibly to make breeding more plausible and easy for a race so ugly. 

Yes, that must be it. It’s the only thing that could make any sense of the heart-eyes and love-cries you witness on all your otherwise dignified fellow fae.

One of them is folded between two orcs, desperately sucking on one of their tongues with her eyes closed in bliss, taking both their cocks in both her holes. It’s hard feeling sorry for her when she looks so happy, but you know the situation yourself—it’s like your mind’s been replaced by a fluffy cloud, and all you can think to wish for is to be taken higher.

Another girl is on her knees, ass up and head down—with a heavy foot placed on top of her cheek, squishing her pretty face against the wooden stage—tongue out and eyes crossed as he fucks her sloppy cunt with his whole entire fist. The poor girl is so mindbroken she just giggles with a smile, thighs shivering in delight as she squirts out a puddle beneath her.

The last girl is placed on her back on a beam—ankles suspended in the air, tied tightly to two poles—arms tied together under the bench. She’s also got two of them having their fun with her—one in each end in a spitroast. 

You’ve been in her position once—shared like a piece of meat—stuffed overfull with no freedom to spare. You wonder if she’d spoken out of place, too.

The orc by her head tugs his cock in his fist, standing over her head, letting her lick the sweat off his balls before dropping his length on her chest, bunching her tits and fucking through them with a groan, letting his balls swing and drag over her pretty face. But it’s not long before he steps back and puts his shaft to her lips, holding her throat in a light grip as she sweetly teases his dickhole with the tip of her tongue. When he gives her a firmer squeeze, she obediently widens her mouth, gaping to receive the head.

The girl holds it in her mouth like you do for your master, trying your best to suck but only ever managing to drool around it like a roasted pig with an apple between its teeth. Oh, but then something impossible happens.

You swear it’s like watching a circus act—you look on in horror and awe—unable to grasp it as more of the orc’s meaty member disappears down the girl’s swallow—one girthy inch at a time. You watch her throat swell, eyes wide in disbelief as her pipe blows out to accommodate the size, letting it sink inside all the way through down to the hilt.

The audience whistle and shout at her performance—all impressed as the two orcs fuck her on time with each other—out, then all the way in. And honestly, you’re one of them. Blinking at the display, you can barely trust your eyes—the two cocks must be kissing each other's tips inside her.

“What good whores,” your master mumbles at your side, swinging you against his chest with a grip on your jaw, making you face the scene. 

“You see that, Putty,” he gruffs and points at the one you’d already been watching, wide-eyed and drop-jawed. “One day soon, you’re gonna be just like that.”

You dont know why, but watching the filthy scene makes your gut gurgle. How can you be hungry at a time like this?

“A perfect throat-sleeve for me. So deep, I can finally touch your guts from both ends and fill your belly just how you like.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Enji, AFO ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Toji, Kenjaku ♡ HxH – Uvogin

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[stellawish]

swiss roll

summary: satoru trying to help his son to learn how to roll over genre: fluff, domestic life warnings: none dad!gojo x mom!reader

“Here we go, buddy.” Sitting on the floor in Haru’s nursery, Gojo gently laid his son on his belly. The baby started to wiggle his short legs while looking at the colorful animals printed on the mattress.

Satoru began to gently massage the baby’s small back. Using rubbing motions with his hands, he drew a line from the shoulders to the lower back. In response, Haru started babbling.

The contrast between your son's small back and Gojo's large hands looked comical. Watching this, you giggled.

As first-time parents, you are always learning and seeking new information, whether from books or various websites.

Recently, you caught Satoru watching a tutorial video. "Massage helps strengthen the back muscles and aids in digestion," said the woman in the video about helping your baby learn to roll over.

Satoru continued with the same gentle movements of his thumbs, drawing lines in opposite directions as he moved lower.

When he finished, he turned the baby onto his back and said in a mock-serious voice, "Now the real training begins. This time, don’t expect any mercy."

Your 4-month-old boy showed his gummy smile, and unable to resist, Satoru kissed his son’s round cheek.

Your husband took Haru's short legs and lifted them into the air, directing them towards his tummy. Then he lowered them down and repeated the movement again.

You were lying next to them on your side, resting your hand under your head and watching the scene with a broad smile. “By the way, Toru, Megumi texted me and said they’ve arrived.”

Megumi and his friends went to summer camp for a few weeks. When he first told you about this plan, both you and Gojo were surprised, as Megumi isn’t very social and prefers spending time alone.

So, his decision to attend summer camp delighted both of you. “I’m glad he’s opening up and coming out of his shell,” you said.

“They’re good kids,” Gojo added.

“There's a great spot nearby that sells some awesome strawberry Swiss rolls. I should get him to bring some home.”

You watches him simultaneously lifting the little boy by his arms and placing him in a sitting position. Satoru read somewhere that such activities strengthen the baby’s muscles and help them learn to roll over independently.

“There you go, little one.” As he turned Haru onto his back, Satoru tickled the baby’s neck, making him wiggle.

Next, your husband, carefully supporting the baby’s side, flipped him onto his tummy and then back onto his back, repeating the action once more.

For the last time, Gojo exaggeratedly sighed and, in a playful manner, said, “Good job, buddy. You did great.” He praised his son. “Now tell me, where did you get your athleticism from, hmm?”

You giggled. “You, my little Swiss roll.” Gojo tickled the baby’s belly and blew raspberries, causing Haru to wiggle and giggle.

Satoru decided to spare the baby and pulled away with a big smile. “Okay, now which book do you want to read today?”

He flipped Haru back onto his tummy and stood up while you gently stroked the baby’s back.

Gojo chose a book and lay down on the other side of Haru. He opened the first page and placed the colorful interactive book in front of his son, encouraging him to explore it.

You stretched your left arm out and accidentally pressed a toy, which squeaked “meow.”

This distracted Haru from the book, and he turned his head toward you. Unable to find the source of the sound, he tucked his right arm underneath himself and, lifting his plump left thigh, ended up on his back.

You and Gojo looked at each other in shock, questions in your eyes. “Did you see that?” your lips stretched into identical smiles. “Oh, my baby, what a good boy. Can you do that again, hmm?” You both began to shower your chubby little one with kisses, eliciting his laughter and making his cheeks rosy.

While you all cuddled together, praising your little one, you locked eyes with Satoru. Despite the genuine joy for your son’s first victory, you saw the reflection of your own thoughts in his eyes: Don’t grow up too fast, son.

more dad!gojo HERE

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Capture the Flag

luke castellan x reader

pt 2

A/N: now that i'm writing for other fandoms, feel free to let me know if you only want to be on a hotd taglist. But now, please enjoy the strongest swordsman in camp halfblood

TW: MAJOR SMUT, slight bondage, rough smut, violence, lowkey dark(ish)!luke

word count: 1,699 words

You want Luke Castellan’s head speared on your sword.

It’s like you spend every minute preparing for capture the flag because of him. He spends every last minute of each game cutting down your teammates and stealing your flag, so now it’s time to change the tactic. You ditch your father’s usual battle advice of going for the kill and hope that defence is the best offence for once. You also pray that he will guide your sword anyhow. So there you stand, guarding your flag with two of your most vicious teammates. You dodge the blue team’s first attack that was supposed to draw you off. You may have a short temper but you aren’t stupid. And you’re more than pleased to see the look of surprise on Luke’s face as he approaches.

“Fucking Ares kids.” He grumbles, sword drawn.

“Were you not expecting me, Castellan?” You ask with a vengeful smirk.

He goes right for you. You’re the biggest threat there but he likes to think you’re not even close to his skill level. You would believe that the man plans to cut you down and then your teammates. He always aims for the glory of it all.

“How’s your team gonna get our flag if you’re here?” He asks as he makes the first swing. It’s much better to start off on offence and he’s the one coming at you.

“Who cares. When you’re done, so is your team.” You block him, hating to be on defence but he’s too quick.

“Gods, you didn’t plan ahead of that? There really isn’t anything in that pretty little head of yours, is there? Other than rage of course.”

  You’re a hothead. He knows it. You know it and it doesn’t take much to rile you up. When you’re riled up, you get sloppy. At this point, you don’t care if he guts you, you go for the little fucker’s ankles. You’re actually surprised when he stumbles from blocking your attack. It’s a stupid mistake, especially for him. Though, you aren’t going to let a chance like this slip by. You keep pushing him back, trying to leave him no chance to think in between swings. He trips over a log behind him, the sword falling from his hand. He has no chance now, not on the ground and you won’t be letting him get up.

“Who’s the idiot now?” 

He looks at you as you approach slowly, taunting him. He then grabs his sword and makes a break for it. You’re too shocked to even keep him down.

What the fuck.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Luke Castellan run from a fight. Not in your 4 years at camp. So you chase after him.

He’s fast, faster than you but you push yourself. He trails away… and away. Then you lose him. 

“Godsdamnit!” You scream into the woods as you jog around where you last saw him. 

You know you can’t stray for long if you’re not fighting Luke so you turn to make your way back to the flag. That’s when he jumps out at you with his sword swinging. You barely have time to block and it puts you off your balance. He swings at you again and again. You fall as you continue to block the merciless strikes. You’re practically holding your sword in the air and hoping for the best. The best doesn’t come as the weapon flies from your hand. He descends on you, straddling your waist as he holds the blade to your throat. He’s smirking.

“You don’t try nearly hard enough.” He says to you. “I know you’re not very clever but hades, my teammates probably already have the flag over the barrier.” 

That’s when you realize how easily you were deceived. Luke didn’t run from you because you bested him; he ran to draw you off. It was a pathetically simple plan and it worked. The heat rises to your cheeks from humiliation. He grabs your two hands and pins them above your head, his grip gentle but also firm.

“I’ll put you in your grave.” You spit out at him.

“Will you now? While I have you essentially restrained?” He’s clearly amused.

You struggle beneath him with all your force but all you manage to do is roll your hips against him, earning a groan from the man. You feel it too, the burning ache between your thighs. You want him. Worse yet, he wants you.

“Let me up.” 

“No. I think you quite like how I have you pinned to the ground.” He smirks.

“You’re delusional.”

“You’re wet.”

He slips a knee between your thighs and rubs it against your clothed pussy. It takes everything in you not to whimper.

“S-Stop.” You stutter out.

“Make me.” He murmurs, continuing to make you grind down on his knee as he leans down and forces you into a hot kiss. You hate how you kiss back, so hungry for him. Your mind is clouded with lust for a moment before you realize the advantage he is giving you. You never technically conceded.

As swiftly as you can, you wrap your free leg around his waist and use your whole strength to throw him off you, startling him enough to free your hands.

“You bitch.” He groans as you jab him in the stomach to try and give yourself enough time to grab your sword but it doesn’t work. He grabs you by the ankle and yanks hard. You slam to the ground right on your stomach. He moves to restrain you by sitting on your thighs so you can’t move your legs and holds your hands behind your back. You clearly didn’t consider how inevitably stronger he is than you.

“Shit.” You whine. His hold isn’t nearly as gentle this time.

“That was a cheap fucking shot.” He says cruelly. He’s pissed now.

“Fuck you. Castellan!” Gods it goes straight to his dick when you call him by his last name. He grips your hair with his free hand and pulls back hard so you have to look at him. You whine again at the sharp pain.

“You just can’t play fair, can you, princess? Maybe I won’t either then.”

 He drops your head and you hear him rustling with something. You realize it’s his belt when you feel the leather against your wrists. He’s binding you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Your voice is full of rage but to him, you just sound petulant. 

 “What you need.” Is his simple answer.

He shifts down so he sits, or rather kneels, with your legs between his. He’s amused by your renewed writhing as an attempt to escape. It is pitiful really. Oh well, he’ll have you writhing for a different reason soon enough.

His fingertips glide across your waist, to your hips and then to your thighs, causing your back to arch upwards slightly, your stomach dipping. He brings his lips down to your ear, his voice is deep and lustful as he says, “Your body seems to know what it wants.”

“I’ll kill you.” You promise.

“Oh, i’m sure you will. But right now, you fucking belong to me.” He yanks on your hair again so you have to look at him and your eyes water from the pain. “I think you like me hurting you.” His other hand slips between your thighs to rub your clit and you let out a strangled moan. “For a girl who is so controlling, it’s interesting how badly you enjoy me manhandling you.”

He yanks your pants down and slips your helmet under your hips so your ass stays high in the air with your chest to the ground.

“This is fucked up.” You say.

“You love it. Your panties are soaked.” And he’s completely right. You’ve never been so turned on before but not a lot of men are as strong and good-looking as Luke Castellan.

He pulls your panties down and groans at the sight of your dripping pussy. He begins to palm himself through his pants and unzips them. “You have about three seconds to tell me if you don’t actually want this.”

You are silent and he chuckles. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

Before you can even prepare yourself or form a thought, his fat cock is shoved inside of you, splitting you open.

“Ah, Luke!” You moan at the pain and pleasure.

“Gods, this is the tightest little pussy i’ve had.” He begins to fuck in and out of you relentlessly, giving you no time to adjust. “Yeah, you’re good for me now, baby. Such a good little cocksleeve.” He punctuates his last words with hard thrusts, the head of his cock bullying into you each time.

All you can do is repeat his name like a mantra as you get pounded on the forest floor by the strongest swordsman in camp. It’s even worse as he begins to rub your clit again, sending you so close to the edge.

“Never gonna have enough of you after this.” Luke murmurs as he feels you squeezing around him. “My good girl.” 

That’s what sends you tumbling over the edge, bringing Luke with you as you do. He never could’ve kept going, not with the way your walls were squeezing around him. He pulls out almost instantly so he can watch his cum spill out of you. He doesn’t wipe it. He just pulls your panties back on and fixes the both of you up. You’re thoroughly spent, he can tell by the way you pant as he releases your wrists.

“You okay?” He asks as he helps you sit up. He grabs your hands so he can kiss the marks on your wrists. After all you’ve done, that’s the act that makes you blush furiously. 

“Um, yeah.” You breathe out.

“I’ll be nicer next time, I promise. Somebody just had to put you in your place first.” He grins wolfishly.

“Next time?” 

That’s when you hear the horn. The blue team has won again.

He pecks a kiss to your cheek. “Time to claim my kleos.” He says cockily before jogging off to meet his team.

taglist (comment to be added):General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi

[dark-fics-4-you]

In the Night

dark!Ghostface!stepbro!Rafe x f!Reader w a side of JJ x Reader

READ ENTIRE WARNING BEFORE PROCEEDING

Warnings: noncon (rape), incest (step siblings), murder, major character death, p in v smut, lowkey yandere themes, knife kink, blood kink, unprotected sex, creampie, Rafe is very obsessed with his little step sister (everyone is 18+)

You cowered behind the car, trying to quiet your shivering sobs. Your mind was racing, barely able to hold onto any thought other than the ghastly scene you had just been forced into.

For months, a masked killer had been terrorizing Kildare and tonight you came face to face with him.

Only to realize that you had been living with him for half of your life.

For the most part, it had been a night like any other, JJ had taken you out on a little dinner date before bringing you back to his house.

You had been dating for several months at this point, a fact that your stepfather, Ward, begrudgingly accepted, but your stepbrother seemed to harbor more resentment towards him than any of the other Pogues.

Just before you had left, Rafe had gotten into yet another argument with you about him, although he had never been so aggressive with you about it before.

“He’s not good enough for you, Y/N! You know he’s just going to get you into trouble.” Your older step brother scolded you.

“Maybe he’d stay out of trouble if you and your gang didn’t bring it to him all the time,” you sniped back, pushing past him to get to the door.

You were interrupted when his hand clamped down hard around your arm just above your elbow, stopping you in your tracks.

“Are you seriously trying to walk away from me right now?” Rafe growled as he turned to you, his hold still tight on your arm.

“Yeah, I am, JJ is out front waiting for me. Now let go of me, Rafe.”

He stared down at you, a familiar yet unrecognizable glint in his blue eyes. He scanned your face for a moment, tension heavy in the air, before finally reluctantly releasing your arm with a huff.

“Just uh… stay safe, okay, Y/N? You know how dangerous it’s been recently.” You could have sworn you saw a small smirk on his face before you turned to exit.

When you and JJ got back to his place after dinner, the two of you had just gotten out of the car when you heard him yell.

You turned to see a large figure wearing the same ghost face mask you had seen all over the news holding your boyfriend at knifepoint, the blade pressed into his throat.

JJ struggled against him for a moment, but he flinched when the man dug the sharp metal in just a bit.

“Stop fighting, or she dies next.” The man hissed, his familiar voice stopping you in your tracks as you raced around the car to them.

You were several feet away from them but too petrified to move.

“Stop!” You cried out, tears burning at your eyes. You felt terrified and helpless, unable to take your gaze off of your boyfriend.

The masked man ignored you, continuing to speak to JJ, “you don’t deserve Y/N, you know? She’s too good to be with a filthy Pogue like you.”

His words washed over you like a bucket of cold water as you finally recognized his voice and you wanted to be sick.

Your lips parted to beg with him, don't do this, please, don't hurt him don't hurt him!

At the flinch of his wrist, it was too late. You knew it. The blade glinted as it slid across JJ's neck, and you finally found your voice as a cascade of crimson followed its arc and JJ fell to ground.

You screamed as you felt the air get knocked out of your lungs. You wanted to collapse, and you probably would have if not for the sound of the killer’s horribly recognizable laughter drawing closer.

In the darkness, you turned, stumbling to the ground painfully before picking yourself up again and running before crouching behind the car JJ had been fixing up.

The chilly autumn air made you shiver and your vision was blurred by your tears.

You still hadn’t gotten over your shock when you heard your name being called.

“Y/N,” he taunted, voice getting closer with each step.

Your heart was thundering in your ears so loudly you were scared he could hear it.

“Just come out now and I promise, I won’t hurt you.” He was on the other side of the car now and you felt your stomach clench in terror.

Your eyes widened when he walked around the car, easily spotting you crouched near the back door.

When he ran towards you, you opened the back car door, blocking him momentarily as you climbed in, planning to slide across and run out the other side.

Your fingertips reached for the door handle, but large hand gripped your legs, pulling you back towards him. Flipping onto your back, you tried to kick him off, desperately scratching at his arms with your your nails at the same time.

The man pinned you beneath him, cackling at your pathetic attempts to fight back. In your panic, you grabbed at his face, pulling his mask off at the same moment his bloodied knife came to your throat.

You froze beneath him, staring up into your step brother’s eyes in shock and horror.

“Rafe?” You whispered, tears spilling past your lashes. “Why?”

A sickening grin spread across his lips as he leered above you. “Didn’t I always tell you, sweetheart? JJ isn’t good enough for you. He didn’t know you like I do.”

His free hand came to your cheek, stroking it lovingly and accidentally smearing JJ’s blood across your skin.

“Stop it!” You whimpered, nausea bubbling up in your gut as the coppery scent hit your nostrils. “You’re insane!”

Rafe’s eyebrows furrowed at that, anger darkening his eyes. He drew so close you could feel his breath against your skin, “I’m just trying to protect you-”

“Protect me?!” You hissed, tears streaming down your cheeks now.

Rafe’s nose twitched, frustration written all over his face.

“You don’t get it,” he mumbled, eyes leaving your face and trailing down your chest. “But I’ll show you.”

Rafe removed the large blade from your throat, grabbing the bottom of your shirt before slicing it down the middle.

You whimpered beneath him, trying to cover yourself up, but his knife found your throat again, pressing down slightly.

“Don’t make me hurt you too,” he threatened, his low voice making your stomach twist.

His pupils were blown wide as he took you in.

“No bra?” He grinned wickedly, “guess my lil sis is more of a slut than I expected.”

“Rafe,” you pleaded, voice breaking through your tears as you looked up at him. “Please, I’m scared.”

He groaned at that, pressing closer and you shuddered at the feel of him growing harder against you. You squirmed when his large hand cupped over your tit, squeezing your nipple between two fingers and drawing a whine from your throat.

His lips smothered yours, hungrily tasting you and taking your breath away. With the cold metal at your throat, there was nowhere to turn to get away from him. Nausea churned inside you when he pushed his tongue into your mouth.

He pulled away finally and put the knife down on the floor to unbuckle his belt, fumbling with his button and zipper before freeing his erect cock from his boxers, not even bothering to push his pants down.

At the sight of your step brother stroking his hard dick above you, your tears started flowing again, disgust and horror mixing with a third emotion you were too ashamed to identify.

Rafe forced your thighs apart, pushing your skirt up to reveal your pink panties.

“Shit, Y/N,” he groaned, pressing his thumb to your covered clit. You squirmed in his grasp, biting your lip to stop your whimpers from escaping.

“Can’t wait anymore,” he breathed through gritted teeth, grabbing your panties and sliding them to the side before lining his tip up with your slick entrance.

“Stop, Rafe-!” your protest was cut off when your step brother pushed himself inside you, stretching your unprepared cunt around him.

You whined loudly, heart skipping a beat when his hand wrapped around your throat, smearing the blood from the knife across your tender skin.

He stilled above you for a moment, taking a shaky breath as he basked in the feeling of your snug walls squeezing around him, tighter than he could have imagined. He inched himself deeper until his tip kissed your cervix.

Rafe leaned closer to you, his lips covering your before he began slowly thrusting into you, increasing his pace with each push of his cock.

You mewled against his lips, confused and disgusted with yourself when you could feel yourself growing wetter around him.

He broke the kiss and you gasped for breath, only for his grip to tighten around your throat.

There was nowhere to go, and Rafe easily caged you in on top of the leather seats of car. You felt claustrophobic, overstimulated by the feel of him rutting into you in the cramped backseat.

The lewd sound of his cock plunging into your slick cunt taunted you, and you couldn’t control the pornographic moans that he was forcing out of you.

His thrusts were brutal, bordering on punishing at this point, and his fingers were squeezing around your neck so tight your vision was becoming fuzzy at the edges.

“Rafe-!” You choked, hot tears burning at your eyes.

The world was spinning around you, the pressure building between your legs. You grabbed onto Rafe, clinging to him tightly in your confusion.

“Tell me you love me,” he groaned, not slowing his pace at all as his thumb found your clit, messily rolling over it.

Your skin crawled at his words, stomach flipping as you nervously shook your head no, but you couldn’t bite back your moan as he teased your tender bud.

You knew that only pissed him off more though, and his grip on your throat tightened in warning.

“Tell your big brother you love him, dumb fucking slut.” He hissed, hitting a spot that made you see stars.

“I-” you whimpered before whispering. “I love you.”

He kissed you hard, growling as he pulled away and resting his damp forehead against yours.

“Tell me again, baby.”

His hips tilted to meet yours, pushing himself deep inside you with each thrust. His thumb lazily traced your clit, pulling you to the brink.

“I love you,” you moaned, primal desires overcoming your thoughts of resisting.

“Again.”

“I love you, fuck, Rafe!” you whimpered as you were pushed over the edge.

Blinding white light exploded behind your closed eyes as you came undone around him. Sinful pleasure tingled between your legs as he fucked you even harder, and he cursed as you squeezed around him.

You couldn’t think straight, much less control your mouth, and the endless string of “I love you Rafe”’s that rolled off your tongue was the reason it wasn’t long before your step brother was painting your walls with his sticky seed.

[princesssmars]

you sometimes forget how… slightly obsessive, violet could be. nsfw.

when you were younger you had a love hate relationship with her tendency to become so completely fixated on something. staying up for hours at night thinking about their next score, holding a grudge for years against anyone who got piss drunk and pissed off vander in the bar, planning and fidgeting over the perfect way to ask you out for weeks before you finally took the step yourself.

even if it got her into danger, got her and her siblings into a temporary struggle that made your heart stall with the thought of nearly losing them, you always reminded her that you thought her fixation on things was cute, and a useful tool about half of the time.

(you even said that the trait reminded you of powder, always blabbering to you for as long as she could talk about her new ideas for gadgets and bombs. the girl was overjoyed in sharing something in common with her big sister, immediately climbing on her back to ramble about something new.)

but then you actually you lost her. you lost all of them. and you wished you had told her that that insecurity she had, all the insecurities she had, were stupid and inconsequential to how perfect you thought she was.

but maybe you’ll get the chance to tell her (and tell jinx that yeah, you were right, i did start seeing ghosts too) because a scarily realistic replica of your ex is standing in front of you and before you can shoo it away she’s hugging you so tight you think your ribs will break.

you follow as ekko gives her the tour of the firelights base, admiring each and every way she’s changed. she’s taller, obviously stronger, wearing a prison uniform that you don’t if you’re allowed to say looks good on her and a red jacket she stole from some guy because of course she did. you stifle a laugh as she tells the story and she smiles at you, indiscreetly wrapping your hand in hers.

it’s obvious by the look on his face ekko is so going to tease you about this later, but you don’t get a chance to care when she turns to you and ask where she and her enforcer friend can sleep. and janna knows you want to offer for her to sleep with you, but it’s been years and you don’t want to make her uncomfortable so you lead her and caitlyn to the newbie dorms.

but it seems like you’ve forgotten just how damn stubborn she is, because not even half an hour later a loud banging at your draws you from your bed, her flushed and nervous face shocking you into silence.

she asks to come in, but with her it’s always more like a demand then a question. you try to ignore the burning feeling of her eyes trained on you as you lead her to your bed, rolling your eyes as she aggressively flops back onto it.

“holy fuck, i haven’t been on something this soft in years. i think i’m gonna fall asleep right now.”

“i wouldn’t be mad if you did.” well, you’d be a little upset. you have so much to talk to her about everything, anything that’s happened since she disappeared. granted a lot of it was bad but there were still a few things you think would cheer her up. she’d already told you enthusiastic she was to eat jerichos again, just wait till she found out that-

you must of zoned out for a minute because you’re shocked back to reality by soft lips pressed to yours, vi’s bandaged hand cupping your cheek like you’ll fade into dust if she lets go. you mentally kick yourself in the head for not responding quicker when she pulls away and looks at you with that sad puppy look she gets.

“i, i’m sorry. it’s just, you were staring at me for a while! and it’s been so long since i’ve seen you and i don’t even know what we are or if we’re still girlfriends but you’re even more beautiful than the last time i saw you-“

you cup both of her cheeks in your hands,(maybe a little too hard) give her a second to back away if she wants, and pull her back in. her arms wrap around your waist and she lets out a whimper when your hand travels to the back of her neck to pull her closer and closer-

and now it’s around one hour? maybe two? it’s a while later, and as her hand travels back into you for the fourth time, yeah, you’re starting to remember how obsessive she could be.

“vi, baby - oh my gods, y’know you can slow down!” your voice pitches when her fingers, her beautiful long and big fingers push up against that spot inside you, her other hand keeping your hips down when you involuntarily raise them off the sheets.

“don’t think i can, princess.” she groans into your breast as she sucks another path of bruises down your chest, slate eyes amused at how your hands grip the bed like it stole from you, how your mouth opens so cutely before you bite your lips to hold back your sounds.

her mouth finally closes around your clit and the increased sensitivity from your past orgasms combined with the almost growling sound she makes when she tastes you sends you right over the edge, thighs clamping around her head as she carries you through it.

the rubbing of her rough hands over your thighs and her gentle words of praise merry drag you into the beginnings of a soft slumber.

until you can feel the damn brute lift your legs onto her shoulders and stick her tongue inside you, laughing at your shocked squeal and resumed grip on her hair.

“besides, we’ve gotta make up for lost time, don’t we?”

writing a drabble based on the fic you’re writing instead of finish the fic i’m such a genius like 😍😍 glad her tag is coming back but i want content coming out like a factory line ok everyone get to work 🙏🏽

[jamminvroomvroom]

second time around.

ln x fem!reader

in which he’s quite desperate to have a second kid.

staying in my active era! there is honestly no excuse for this one, i just simply couldn’t help myself. it’s porn, yes, there is plot, but it’s just. porn.

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! where do i even begin? smut, more smut, breeding kink (kinda the whole point), choking, overstimulation, general sex acts, public sex, car sex, shower sex, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of the kid they already have, lando being a little shit, sex somewhere unhinged in the mtc, a brief moment of angst, dom!lando, rough sex? yeah.

3.9k words

take: 1

the season is coming to an end.

somewhere between italy and singapore lando decides he wants another kid.

it’s a warm day in the middle of september when he proposes the idea to you. you’re watching your daughter toddle around the garden, soaking up the last remnants of sunlight before the darkness of autumn encapsulates the warm beams until march.

she giggles, pushing her toys around in the grass. you let her play, lost in her own little world of wonder. lando turns to you, scanning your side profile, watching you watch the little girl. he’s awestruck, enamoured totally by the family he’s created, by the woman he loves. he doesn’t think, he just opens his mouth and let’s loose his big idea.

“want another one?” he cooes, sliding closer across the bench, until he’s nosing at your cheek. kisses are pressed to your puffy face. it’s still early.

at first you think he’s offering you another coffee, so you hold out your almost empty mug to him. you’d been nursing the drink, letting it go cold in the naturally cooler air. he laughs at you, and that’s when you clock what he’s actually asking.

you turn to him, facing each other now. lando looks excited. you wonder if you can find a way to mirror his expression.

“lando…” you start. his face drops at your tone, letting him down easy. “it’s not that i don’t want to, it’s just-“

“i’ll be home more. i’ve worked it all out. if we get to work now, baby will be here around the summer break.”

you mull over his words.

your first baby was a shock to you both, and you didn’t fancy doing that again. you loved lando with every fibre of your being, just as you did your daughter, but being away from him so much in the lead up to her arrival shot every one of your nerves to pieces.

but another baby would be on the agenda eventually - you both desperately wanted to add to your beautiful family - and you supposed that if he’d done the math…

“by get to work now, you mean…?” you cock an eyebrow at him. he lights up like the christmas tree you’d be putting up in a few months.

“she’s going down for her nap soon.” lando smirks, voice edged with that excitement once again.

-

his head is between your legs mere moments after he shuts your bedroom door.

you’d been waiting for him, stripped bare in anticipation. your baby girl would be down for a good few hours, more than enough time for him to draw out everything you had to offer and fill you back up.

his tongue runs over your flesh; he’s messy with it. you’re choking out whimpers as he licks and laps and tugs with his teeth. your pussy clenches around nothing and he notices, sliding his fingers all over where you ache. they’re quickly wet enough to slide inside of you, and he grinds them deep, luring traces of an orgasm into the pit of your belly. it’s familiar, the way he winds you up, and you want him like this every minute of the day.

“getting you ready, honey. gonna get you so fucking ready.” lando is slurring words into your cunt, letting them get lost to your sodden folds. you hear every word perfectly. they make you shake and shake until you’re undone.

when he looks up at you, his mouth is glistening. his fingers are, too. he hates wasting a drop of you, so he laps up the mess you’ve made while he shuffles up the bed. when he’s finally hovering over you, he’s desperate, but you’re worse. you could cry from the urge.

something carnal is taking place; he’s staring into your soul, finishing up the remnants of your taste, and you’re begging with your eyes, hands slinking all over your own body. you must be dripping by now. your body is restless and you raise your hips, inviting him close, deep.

when he thrusts into you, he’s pinning you down into your shared mattress. you’re completely at his mercy and he fucking loves it. you love it more. you go slack underneath him, and he starts a slow grind. he’s not thrusting, not yet, he’s just rolling into you, deeper, deeper, deeper. you feel the first tears threatening to fall. he feels so good, it’s unbearable.

he nudges at your most sensitive spot, over and over and over. you whine carnally and he swallows it, licking into your mouth. his curls tickle your forehead, you’re pressed so close together. he sees the pools in your eyes and then he looses it completely.

hand on your neck for leverage, he starts thrusting, harder and harder, faster than you can ever recall. he knows you can take it, knows how bad you want it, and that thought alone spurs him on. you have the same goals, the same shared instincts. you feel nothing but pure fucking bliss everywhere.

“you want me to fill you up? you want my baby, honey? want me buried nice and deep?” you hear him grunt, but he sounds so far away.

you are lost to the void when you come. you can’t even try and resist, not when you can hear how wet you are, not when you can hear the quiet whimpers he tries to fight at the way your pussy convulses around him. you cannot see anything but the stars in his eyes.

you go limp and he spills, fucking it even further into you. his eyes are trained on where you’re still joined, and where he’s still fucking you. you’d be screaming if not for the hand wrapped around your throat. the most delicious piece of jewellery you own.

lando needs to know he’s gone as deep as he can, that you’ve come as hard as he can make you. he feels unhinged when his fingers find your clit, switching between short spasms of his finger on the nub, and grinding down on it with his palm. you’re both overstimulated, soaked with sweat and other things. you’re gripping his cock so fucking tight that he can’t stop the rush of moans, your name mumbled like a prayer between expletives.

but still, he needs to know it’s deep enough.

an hour later, you can finally move, and you sink deep into the bath.

your head is on his chest, he washes you gently. you wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl.

-

date night

almost a month passes. no sign of baby number two.

it’s fine, you tell yourself. you tell lando, too. all the more reason to keep practicing.

every opportunity he gets to bury himself to the hilt inside of you is a win in both of your books. he grabs every single one of those opportunities with both hands.

you’re dressed up nice for dinner, little black dress hugging you well. you watch the scenery flick past you. lando’s in the drivers seat, making small talk, his left hand heavy on your bare thigh. you’ve just dropped your daughter off with her grandparents, your mother hugging lando tight. he’d been gone a while.

fingers skim higher up your thigh. you want to let him carry on but this car is new, untainted by his adventurous personality and your willingness to comply. your legs snap shut and you watch him smirk out the corner of your eye.

“later.” you whisper.

his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.

“i know. don’t you worry, honey.” he doesn’t sound convincing, no, he sounds like a man with a plan and you dread to think of what he has in store.

the restaurant is tiny. a hole in the wall. it’s intimate, exclusive, slightly extortionate, but lando likes to treat you. you order, and he behaves. you sip wine, and he behaves. you drag your heel up his leg, and still, he behaves. you know something is brewing behind those stormy eyes.

he launches his attack during dessert.

vanilla ice cream hits your tongue when he strikes, leaning back in his chair. his thick neck captures your attention, the dim light accentuating him just right.

“would your prefer we take this to the car or the bathroom? it’s pretty spacious back there, you know.”

lando speaks so casually, and slightly too loudly. your cheeks are aflame.

“lando!” you hiss in warning. you’re sputtering over his boldness, catching some ice cream with your tongue. he watches the way it moves over your lips intently.

“actually, as tempting as the bathroom is, we still need to break in the new car.” lando sounds like he’s talking about the weather, or a shopping list, not the location of your next sexcapade. you swear you see the old lady at the next table over wink at you. “your choice, honey.”

you’re staring daggers at him. he leans in closer, elbows resting on the table and a shit eating grin contorting his pretty face.

“i’ve been gone too long, i need to remember what that pussy feels like.” his voice has dropped an octave but it’s still too loud. you inadvertently grind against the chair. the candle on the table flickers from the force of the shaky breath your expel.

“if you shut up now, you can have me anywhere you want me.” you mumble, bringing your napkin to your lips. the ice cream is melting and you have more important things on your mind.

“i’ll have you anyway, honey. because no matter what happens, we’re gonna go back to the car and you’re gonna crawl into my lap, aren’t you? you’re not gonna be able to help it.” he keeps going and you want the ground to swallow you up. maybe you want to crawl over the table and jump on his lap right here. you fight every natural instinct.

“lando.” you try to scold him again but it comes out breathier, a feeble attempt at shutting him up. it’s hard to be convincing when you want nothing more than for him to bend you over in the middle of this restaurant.

“and after i’ve had you shaking on my lap, i’m gonna fill you up, yeah? you’ve been waiting for weeks, poor thing.”

you usher over the waiter, and ask for the bill.

-

he’s got you home in one piece and all the way up to the shower.

you’re still delirious from the car. he’s still dripping out of you.

he pushes you against the shower screen, your cheek resting on the fogged up plastic. the combination of yours and his first orgasm is enough to slick him up and he slides right back inside of you, as if he’d never left.

your head is spinning, car lights and nail prints in leather seats flashing through your mind.

he’d been right in the restaurant. you’d crawled straight into his lap and he’d been waiting, seat pushed back, cock slapping up against his tanned belly. he’d swiped his fingers through your folds, determining that you were wet enough already, and then you’d sunk straight down on him.

at first he’d just watched you lose control, bouncing and grinding and whining on his lap. you were growing tired when he stepped in, pushing you back against the steering wheel, the angle change making your eyes roll back. you came twice with his fingers on your clit and his other hand holding you down so he could grind up into you. he’d released deep into you, all you could do was shudder, collapsing into his chest.

now, he’s taking you again, the hot water cascading over you both. you’re almost limp, caught between the cold screen and his hot, restless body. this it was three weeks apart does to him, and the urge to claim every part of you is at the forefront of his mind.

you’re writhing. there’s no room to move; he’s pressed so tight against you, breathy moans sounding straight into your ear and you want him impossibly closer. you always missed him so much it hurt, but that pain had increased tenfold lately.

you try to roll your hips back into him, needing him deeper, somehow. you’re so wet and tight around him, and your attempt at moving on him has you clamping down on him.

lando whimpers when he lets go, marking you as his.

he washes your hair and you fall asleep together naked.

-

the fear

lando is due back from qatar.

any minute now, he’ll be walking through the door.

he’s taken a podium, so you are expecting somewhat high spirits, despite the slight issue that had been the sprint race.

a podium is a podium, you’d tried to tell him on the phone late on saturday night. you knew that a podium was never just a podium.

you’re cleaning the kitchen up, your sweet daughter tucked up tight in her bed upstairs. a random playlist is sounding from the speakers and you flit around in just his hoodie. it hits mid thigh and it’s keeping you shielded from the biting october air.

you hear keys in the lock somewhere in the distance. you grin stupidly. god, you always fucking miss him. you turn to face the doorway, eagerly anticipating his face, longing for one of his speciality hugs.

instead, a storm enters your kitchen in the form of your boyfriend.

you raise and eyebrow.

“lando?” you question.

your hips are in his hands before he can answer. he’s walking you backwards until the granite of the counter is digging into your lower back.

“turn around.” his voice is gravelly, commanding. you do as you’re told.

the hoodie is bunched around your waist, your panties are tugged to the side. you can hear the rustle of fabric, assuming he’s getting himself ready. two fingers gloss through your folds while he pushes you down, bending you over for him. he’s rubbing circles into your clit and you’re keening into his touch.

“you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” you manage to choke out. he grunts in response.

“just need to get inside you.” is all he replies. well, okay then.

lando rearranges you, hiking one of your knees up so that’s it’s resting on the countertop. your other foot barely touches the floor when he fucks into you, ruthless. you cry out, reaching blindly behind you for him. you graze his hip and he shivers, pushing into you even harder.

he’s frantic, messy with it, thumbing at your clit. there’s hardly any room to move his hand, so he’s grinding the pad of his thumb as best he can. the pressure builds in your belly embarrassingly fast. you love when he gets like this, but you will pry what’s wrong out of him later when he curls up into his chest.

“gonna give you another one. s’all i can think about. fucking you full.” he mutters. your back arches into him.

“please.” you whimper, slurred. it’s all you can think about too.

your plea ushers along his orgasm, and he drops his head against your back. you’re shaking when you finish; he stays buried deep for a moment, silence washing over you.

when he helps you stand up, he kisses you deep. he brushes the hair from your face, says hello properly.

“wanna go see her.” he mumbles.

-

when you finally manage to climb the stairs, you see straight into your daughters room.

lando is stood over her crib, watching her sleep in the lamp lit room. he’s cooing something to her that you can’t make out. your knees are weak at the sight. you want to fill this house with children that look like him and laugh the way he does.

he catches you watching, sending you a wink, a promise that he’ll meet you in bed. when he finally does, drawing back the sheets and dropping into bed beside you, he wraps himself around you instantly.

“talk to me.” you command, toying with his hair in a way that you know turns him into mush in your hands.

“can’t win a race, can’t give you another baby. just- fuck.” he sighs, voice so small. you tear up but you push that aside for now.

“stop, lando. don’t do this to yourself.” you try to sound firm, attentive.

“just- am i good to you? am i good to her?” he needs to hear you say it, that’s the only thing that will talk him down from this spiral. he’s exhausted, and this is often a consequence.

“sometimes i think you hung the stars in the sky.” you hum, kissing his forehead.

gentle snores lull you to sleep.

-

quickie

you go with him to austin.

it seemed logical, after the events of qatar. your daughter has been stolen away by lando’s dad, who is showing her the paddock and introducing her to mechanics. you watch on, momentarily, because then lando is stealing you away.

“haven’t you got fp3 in a minute?” you ask, coy smile on your face. he’s pulling your jeans down and kicking them away.

“this won’t take long.” he smirks.

you crave the upper hand for a change. his race suit is already undone, so you make your move. you tug down his fireproofs, taking his cock in your hands. he’s hard already, glistening for you. he groans, but doesn’t make you stop.

you’re watching him through your eyelashes, his head tipping back in pleasure. you work your hand around him, up and down, applying pressure at the base and around the tip. it’s flushed red, wet in your hand and he looks too pretty to stop. he can have you later, in your hotel room, you think. right now, you’re having him.

lando is panting, thrusting into your hand when he comes for you. you’re soaked through, and he can probably see the damp patch on the panties. his release hits your stomach, painting your flushed skin white. your eyes scan the room for something to clean yourself with, but he beats you to it.

thick fingers swipe through the mess he’s made. your panties are tugged to the side and then he’s fucking you with said fingers. you cannot produce a thought, mouth gaping open in the shape of an ‘o’. the sight before you has you gushing, and he uses that leverage to speed up.

“you think i’m gonna let it go go waste, honey? silly girl. pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters.

your hips are bucking into his hand when he pulls out of you, collecting more of him from your belly, and then he’s thrusting them in again. you tear up from the pleasure coursing through you, white hot. he’s crazy, you think, but he’s so fucking beautiful, teasing glint in his eye as he curls his fingers deeper.

“want it so bad, don’t you? gotta keep you full for me, don’t i?”

you’re sure you can be heard from the garage when your orgasm hits.

-

office party

a burnt orange dress clings to your hips and a curly haired man clings to your hand.

the mtc is lit up for another gala that you and lando have to attend. the season is over and they’ve had a great run, so a toast must be made to celebrate that.

you watch him get passed around the room between sponsors and other important people, proud of what he’s achieved. you hate sharing him, but it’s a necessary evil, so you drink champagne with oscar’s girlfriend, lily, and natalie pinkham.

when lando comes back to you, his PR smile is dropped and that genuine, boyish grin returns that you have so missed in his momentary absence. he introduces you to some people, proudly showing you off, sinking drinks as he does.

it’s nearing 10pm when his actions become questionable. his hand stays on your ass, his words whispered in your ear are filthy and his sly kisses on your neck stop being quite so sly.

you remove him from the main event, just for a moment, just to try and get him to compose himself before you jump him against one of the vintage racing cars. he sees this as an invitation, however, and then everything goes awry.

he’s dragging you into the lift, kissing you against the closed doors. when you stumble out a floor up, you can still hear the function in full swing. he’s pulling you down a hallway and into what you assume is an office. when he has you sat on a desk, you realise where you are.

“is this zak’s office?” your eyes pop out of your head, bewildered.

“maybe.” he shrugs. he’s smirking like a bastard.

“you’re insane.” you shake your head, standing from the desk, but his lips ghost your ear and you’re putty in his hands.

“you’re driving me insane. coming here in this tight fucking dress. can’t stop looking at you, thinking about this.” his hand rubs over your lower belly as he speaks, and then you’re back on the desk.

lando’s on his knees, peeling the silky material over your thighs until your barely there panties are in his face. he mouths over them briefly, and then they’re gone and his tongue is buried to the hilt in your cunt.

it doesn’t take him long to get you off, the alcohol and the thrill of being in the one place you should never have sex pushing you quickly towards your orgasm.

the glass wall of windows is too inviting for lando to pass up, so on shaky legs, you’re pressed up against them, looking out over the pond and the fairy lights when he pushes into you.

he’s kissing over your shoulder, your neck, holding your down on him while he thrusts up into you. you turn your head to kiss him, to let him swallow up your noises that could give you away.

“you’re so fucking good for me, honey. letting me have you here like this just so i can give you a baby.” he slurs against your lips, pussy drunk and ravenous.

he finds your clit, fast fingers making small swipes against it and you want to cry.

“gonna make this time count, yeah, honey? gonna keep it all inside of you until we get home?”

you try to nod, try to say something but you’re choking on air and dripping all over him. a couple more thrusts and you’re the perfect vessel for him to release into, throbbing and hot around his cock.

“beg for it, honey, come on. tell me how much you want it.” lando mumbles right in your ear.

“lando, please. please, please, please.” you whimper. “come for me, baby, need it inside of me.”

you leave the office a lot more composed than when you entered it. well, aside from the remnants of him that are running down your inner thighs.

-

a month later, lando’s laughing. he’s actually laughing, while you cringe, burying your blushing face in his chest.

you’re holding a pregnancy test in your hands, finally a positive one.

when you do the maths, you realise where baby norris was conceived, and you try and make him promise never to tell anyone that it was in his boss’s office.

“it’s a funny story.” he tells you. there are tears in his eyes.

“you’re so lucky i love you.” you roll your eyes. you are also dangerously close to crying.

but truthfully, you’re the lucky one. he carries you to bed that night, claiming that now you had a baby on board, you had to be careful!

you dream of him, that night. the man that hung the stars in the sky.

-

once again, idk what came over me i’m sorry lmfao

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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.” 

[heavenbarnes]

Thinking of being Ghost's fiance and making invite the 141 over for dinner to finally meet them and he begrudgingly accepts because anything to make u happy and they're still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that he's engaged

mmm omg your mind 🫶🏼

finally getting older bf!simon to have the 141 around your dinner was the equivalent of pulling teeth.

come to think, pulling teeth would’ve been easier.

“well fuck me for wanting to meet the people the man i’m marrying spends 90% of his time with”

“sweet’art y’know i don’t like bringing work ‘ome”

then you’d gone and put your hands on your hips with just one (1) eyebrow raised-

and the lads were knocking at his fucking door.

“gidday- don’t fuckin’ start w’me”

“some bloody way to greet y’guests, big man”

as he corralled all their snide little remarks about “didnae know ye’ owned a nice shirt” everyone managed to find their best behaviour upon your appearance.

it might’ve had something to do with the stunned silence.

when he’d begrudgingly invited them, they’d all been in a little bit of shock- first of all, ghost had a fiancé? second of all, ghost is letting us into his home?

then it all round off with, third of all-

ghost’s fiancé was a fucking looker, that’s for sure.

sweet, nice, bloody easy on the eyes- how the hell had he managed that?

you were just happy to meet the closest things to friends that simon had.

price took lead by drawing you into a hug, thanking you for your hospitality. followed closely by a sweet talking gaz who was already making your cheeks warm with his manners.

naturally, johnny had to chime in with some stupid little-

“nae wonder L.t disnae want us knowing about ye’, i’d keep ye’ all t’maself too”

he’s too slow to avoid simon’s flat palm coming up the side of his head, but it doesn’t dissuade him much.

he’s peachy fucking keen to meet you.

simon eats his tea with a tense jaw, rolling his eyes every time someone makes you laugh a little too long, tells another ‘embarrassing’ story about him.

he also keeps his palm firmly on your knee, nervous twitch of a thumb running circles over your skin.

when you pop out to the kitchen to fix dessert, they’re on him like starved dogs.

“all this time and not so much as a bloody photo?”

“kinda’ photos i’m gettin’ aren’t f’you lots eyes”

johnny nearly falls out of his seat.

you can hear them whispering all the way from the kitchen, for a bunch of SAS guys- they’re not very subtle.

simon’s got one ear on the shit chatter coming from his team and the other on the kitchen, waiting for the slightest sign that he might be able to join you.

it comes- in the form of a gasp from you followed by “ow fuck”

simon’s out of his seat like a bullet.

“what’s wrong- what ‘ave y’done?”

you know the 141 are watching, doesn’t take a genius to see the way they’re all craning their necks around the kitchen doorframe.

“i’m fine, si- just a little burn from the pan”

“lemme’ see, gimme’ y’hand”

so the 141 see their ghost, unshakeable mountain of a man- a face they never see-

and they see his face, and they see genuine fear on it.

they see simon.

your simon.

“i’m telling you it’s fine, si”

“i’ll make that call, alright”

and they’re all looking at each other across the table, trying to decide whether to be impressed or even a little jealous- they’re leaning towards jealous.

so instead they settle on taking the absolute piss out of him.

not that he minds-

before you could even reach your chair he was pulling you into his lap- having you eat dessert perched on his thigh.

as you settle back into his chest, you could swear you feel him laugh.

that hand settles back on your knee again but there aren’t nervous circles anymore.

more like gentle squeezes.

your simon.

right at home.

[spicy-apple-pie]

I WANNA HEAR ABOUT THE COMIC >:))))))

I did warn you…

Okay so idk if a lot of people know this, but Damian was originally given up for adoption right after he was born before his story was reconned.

So in this comic, Damian is 9 years old and in the foster system in Gotham, unknowing who his parents are. He’s never stays long in a home because he’s very aggressive. He’s smart though, so he orders a DNA testing kit to hopefully find a relative to take him. Imagine his shock when he finds out his father is Bruce Wayne.

So this 9 year old walks into WE by himself, toddles up to the secretary, and asks to see Bruce Wayne. The secretary is like “haha okay, let me help you find your parents.” And Damian is like “you can. My dad is Bruce Wayne.”

And then Tim shows up!! And he’s like, “who’s your dad?”

And Damian is suddenly really nervous and shyly passes Tim the DNA test results. Tim looks them over, and Damian thinks he’s going to get turned away. But then Tim smiles at him and asks him if he has time for a drink.

Damian basically explains his life story over a cup of hot chocolate to Tim. Tim listens and tells him that he’ll make sure Bruce sees it and gives him his number if he has any questions (Damian doesn’t have a phone). Damian gets up to throw out his cup but Tim is like “oh I can throw that out for you. Talk to you soon!”

Cut to the BatCave where Bruce is staring at the DNA test results. Showing him and Talia as the parents. Tim stands behind him. “I doubled and tripled checked.” He says. “Not to mention he’s the spitting image of you.” He mumbles under his breath, knowing that Bruce isn’t in the mood for jokes right now. Alfred places some Tylenol beside Bruce using his butler powers to sense his on coming headache.

“And you said he walked into the lobby by self?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah, he said he took the bus.”

“Oh dear,” Alfred comments, “that is certainly not safe for a boy his age in Gotham. I wonder if his social worker knows about that…”

So the next morning, Damian finds that he’s out of custody from his foster parents. And he’s like “but I didn’t do anything this time!” And his social workers like “no, they’re getting charged with child endangerment. We already have a place lined up for you.”

Lo and behold, his new foster home is Wayne Manor. And he meets Bruce for the first time and he’s really nervous. And Bruce has to turn away because he almost starts crying. And Damian asks Alfred if he did something wrong and Alfred’s like “no, he’s just very happy to see you.”

And that’s basically it. But I also have this idea of how he discovers his Dad is Batman.

He comes downstairs in the early morning for a snack before going back to sleep to find Red Hood raiding their fridge. He runs to Bruce and he’s freaking because fucking RED HOOD broke into their house.

And Bruce groans and is mildly annoyed about and Damian is like “???? Does this happen often????” Bruce brings him downstairs and Red Hood is still there, but making a grilled cheese with his helmet off.

“Jay, how many times do we need to tell you know masks in the house?”

“I dunno. How many fucking children are you going to adopt?” He gestures to Damian hiding behind Bruce.

“He doesn’t know yet, Jay. I was going to wait until he was more comfortable.”

Jason is a little sheepish because he did give the kid a bit of a fright, so he turns around to apologize and introduce himself. And instantly is like “holy shit, that’s a bio kid.”

“Language, Jay…”

“Don’t language me, where the fuck did he come from???”

“What is happening??!!” Damian finally yells.

And then Bruce shows him the BatCave.

I did warn you I’d talk your ear off. I came up with this circa. 2018 - 2019 but I feel like I finally have the skill to draw it. And I honestly fell in love with it again, so I might lol.

Edit: I did it

[the-xolotl]

A Taste of Darkness Itself

Alastor x fem!Reader x His Shadow

ᯓღ Filthy one-shot of Alastor’s shadow railing reader.

ᯓღ a/n: i have been rotting on this idea for like literal weeks and i finally had the willpower to write it. idk how it got to 3.5k but it did. ENJOY !

SUMMARY: You hate being away from Alastor, but at least the silver lining is that Al’s shadow is nice company while he’s away. Today, though, it was a little more needy than usual.

ᯓღ CW: biting, licking, belly bulging, slight voyeurism, accidental exhibitionism, slight dub-con, no use of y/n, fem reader, size kink, monster fucking?, some aftercare, squirting, overstimulation, cumflation.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED IN SIGHT. Thank you~

Waking up without Alastor is always a bummer; turning over to find a cold, empty spot where your lover should be have been isn’t a great way to start the morning. Being understanding of how busy he is and that sometimes this Overlord duties take him away from the hotel and essentially from you doesn’t take away from how much you dislike it. At least when he had trips to the other side of the pentagram he often left his shadow behind to look after you and keep you company.

The shadow you had affectionately named Shade often attempted to keep you entertained or went with you about your day. Shade has always been pretty docile with you, at least when you are in his care. Sometimes you wonder if it’s capable of its own feelings or if Shade is only nice to you because Alastor tells it to, or because being part of Alastor means he also loves you somehow. You’ve never discussed it with your lover but you like to think it’s the former simply because it makes it more special and cute.

Today, especially, you think about how that works because Shade had been especially clingy and… a little needy. In a way, as clingy as a being that can’t talk or isn’t really tangible can be but he keeps distracting you by making you pay attention to it; showing you little trinkets (don’t have the slightest idea where it got them), turning on the nearest radio to play smooth jazz to dance to. It took your shadow’s hand to twirl you around and dip you down or wrap itself around your shadow.

“You’re acting like me when I’m being clingy with Alastor,” you giggle, petting the top of its transparent head. You get the sensation that it leans into your touch even when you’re not really touching it. Shade has its charm, the shadow is definitely sentient and thinks on its own outside of Alastor’s orders.

You start retracting your hand but Shade snatches it with a somewhat tight grip, something it doesn’t really ever do. “What’s wrong?” your voice filled with a mix of concern and confusion. His expression is indiscernible with a wide grin still edged on its flat features and being that it can’t speak you can’t expect a response either. However, your confusion turns to absolute bewilderment when Shade intertwines your fingers together with it, actually seeing and feeling a cold touch wrapped around your hand.

It sent a shiver down your spine, it was like touching a corpse; cold and clammy. Slowly, Shade emerged from the wall. It’s a little funny the way it looks like a sentient sticker pealing itself off a flat surface but as it left the wall of Alastor’s bedroom its form changed into something akin to materialized dark matter. Not quite slimy or gooey but also not entirely gaseous; just pure darkness in the silhouette of Alastor and just as tall.

Shade is still holding your hand and not letting you go, smile even wider, one that reaches the blank holes of his eyes. While it didn’t feel menacing it’s off-putting seeing and being grabbed by a tangible shadow. You’re looking up at it with wide eyes, blinking owlishly, “Shade…?” your voice cracked. Again, you weren’t scared but very shocked as it had never shown you this form before. Shade draws closer to you excitedly, enveloping your entire body in its chill embrace. “Oh, oh you’re cold,” you laughed nervously, “Since when can you— Oof,” you’re caught off by Shade lifting you up and taking you to Alastor’s bed in a blink of an eye. Even more confused and a little concerned now you attempt to free yourself from his grasp but it only tightens as Shade nuzzles its face against your cheek and neck.

“A-Alright buddy, haha. What are you doing there?” Shade is harmless, and there’s no doubt in your mind it would hurt you. Not with Alastor being his master and you being the love of its master’s life. It’s an odd sensation having the manifestation of darkness pinning you down onto the bed with a bit of rough force. Even still, you can’t help but be endeared by the affection the creature is giving you.

It’s innocent enough until you feel ghostly lips pressed against your neck, trailing up to your jawline and then to your cheek and stopping at the corner of your mouth. You’re frozen for a few moments, eyes wide, and you swear you hear a record scratch. “Shade…?” you whisper again but it doesn’t move. You hear it make a noise that sounds like a laugh or a chuckle. It’s something between radio static and demonic growls. Before you have another moment to process, the shadow is stealing your lips again in a hungry kiss.

You surprise yourself by returning it but are unable to keep up as Shade robs you of all the air in your lungs rather quickly as the kiss deepens. It’s heated and has you gasping for air soon. You have to fight to breathe between the savage kisses it seems to not get enough of. The darkness of its lower body starts wrapping around your thighs parting them to better accommodate itself between them.

Gasping you pull away from the desperate lips to finally fill your lungs with proper oxygen with big gasps. Icy fingers travel up your thighs digging its sharp claws and making you hiss. “Shade!” you yelp its name when it decided to shove its entire hand up your skirt and past your panties to give experimental rubs at your pussy. You arched and squirmed under its touch as he watched your reactions with rapt enthusiasm and attention. Heat begins to creep up your face, red dusting your cheeks in embarrassment. But you can’t help your hips bucking into its chill touch, “More,” you moan.

Shade tilts its head to the side, the holes of his eyes still boring into your face. You nod at it, breathing heavily, and grinding your hips up again, “Please, more,” you mewl again enjoying the contrast in temperature between your warm folds and the coldness of its slender fingers.

Shade presses further then, rubbing your folds up and down, your pussy is quickly becoming increasingly wet under its attention. The shadow lets you grind against its fingers, occasionally rubbing at your erect clit. Soft moans and heavy breaths spill from your lips as you let the sentient being have its way with you. His mouth returns to your skin to kiss and nip at it creating a path of blooming red marks across your collarbone and chest.

Once your juices are practically dripping down to the sheets, Shade decided to dip in two fingers. It’s a tight fit that has your back arching and eyes rolling back but you welcome them spreading your legs even further inviting it in. He makes what you can only assume is a pleased low, reverberating growl. Your soaked cunt makes it much easier to slide them in despite the resistance, and oh how or where did this being of darkness and magic learn how to finger fuck so good?

Even with the frosty presence over your entire body, you feel the temperature rising around you, the room quickly growing hot and stuffy. You needed out of your clothes, except Shade still hadn’t let go of your hands yet, it held them up with one of his as he devoured the rest of your body with love bites and kisses. “Shade— Clothes, off. I need—” and just like that your clothes went up in smoke leaving you completely naked and more of your body exposed to the shadow’s hungry eyes. Its eye travels over your every curve, mapping its ups and downs, every groove. Finally, its hand releases your wrist in favor of touching your skin, especially your plush chest. It grabbed and squeezed at your tits feeling the size and weight of them. The contrast of the heat of your skin felt delightful against his cold one.

Shade pinched at your nipple, tugging it earning more moans and pleas. You’re losing yourself bit by bit, succumbing to the pleasure not even thinking about the consequences—would there be consequences?— you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “C’mere,” you whimper, a hand coming up to cup the side of his head and guiding him down to eye level with your chest. Shade didn’t resist and went down willingly, “Suck,” keeping its eyes on your face he obeyed willingly taking the hardened bud in its mouth sucking and digging little sharp teeth into the soft flesh. Meanwhile, his other hand hadn’t stopped, in fact, its fingers sped up in scissoring motions to coax your cunt open. Both your hands are on his head now holding on for dear life while you allow it to take you however it likes. And maybe you didn’t have a choice, you aren’t really calling the shots, but it didn’t matter. Not when you can feel your first orgasm building in your core.

Shade is oddly good at pleasuring you, in the back of your head you still wonder how, a morbid part of you think it’s from it possibly watching the way Alastor touched you. It’s then the fleeting thoughts of missing your boyfriend float momentarily in your lust-ridden mind. As your moans got more frequent and louder, your fingers digging harder into the shadow you felt yourself an inch away from coming. You cum with a scream and your orgasm wrecks through your entire body but Shade doesn’t miss a beat. It doesn’t stop, it doesn’t pause. The shadow continues to assault your g-spot while he alternates between biting and sucking at your breasts, even planting its palm against your clit while it continues to finger you to add even more stimulation.

Your body is shaking uncontrollably and the only thing keeping you in place is its grasp over your body. “Fuck me, please fuck me. I can’t take it anymore, fuck. I need your cock inside me,” voice desperate, as if your livelihood and sanity depend on being stuffed. You didn’t have to wait long for that request to be fulfilled either. The removal of his fingers from your wet pussy had you whining and clenching around nothing but almost as soon as they were gone they were replaced by something bigger pressing into you.

A tendril is teased along your folds with curiosity, as if copying movements and your suspicions that Shade is following Alastor’s actions in bed click subconsciously in your head. However, you’re too busy focusing on the tentacle between your legs now pressing its way inside you. Shade makes a noise and radio static spreads across the room, it makes a whiny sound along with your loud moan at the feeling of the thick length stretching you out. Your nails made their way to its back scratching at pitch darkness.

“Shade, don’t—” you tried to warn it to be gentle but it was too late. The shadow followed the tight heat of your dripping pussy and sheathed itself in one thrust making you cry and scream out. Tears slide down your cheeks, your body trembling already, writhing and trying to pull away from the fat tendril penetrating you. But it wouldn’t allow you, Shade only pinned you harder against the mattress with shadow tentacles and lifted your hips up to begin thrusting into you.

The shadow clearly had never done this before, given the sloppy way it’s thrusting into you with little rhythm but, it’s hard and it’s intense. The radio static buzzed across your skin rising goosebumps, Shade’s own moans increased; they sounded deliciously demonic. It picked up the pace before you even had time to adjust, “S-Slow down, too much,” but it didn’t listen. The restraints only got tighter, Shade didn’t mean to but it’s losing itself to the immense pleasure your body is giving it. The shadow continued to lick and bite anywhere it could, adding claws to the mix; its hand began to roam across your curves committing them to memory and dragging sharp nails that nearly broke skin anywhere it touched.

You felt Shade all around you overwhelming your senses and caging you on the bed. There’s no escape, not that you wanted to really, the mischievous shadow has you screaming and moaning its name wantonly. Despite begging it to slow down the pace you’re still wrapping your legs around its shadowy torso brining him closer to you.

“Kiss me, Shade. Kiss me again.” you plea between sobs of ecstasy. Its mouth leaves your tummy where it had been passionately sucking hickeys to comply with your request. It’s hot and heavy with a long tongue prodding your mouth, moaning loudly you enthusiastically accept the ravenous kiss. Shade’s hand in the meantime takes purchase on your hips for the purpose of guiding you up and down its cock and using your body as a life-size flesh-light. The shadow is still hammering into you and bullying your cervix with every rock of its hips, being mean about it by pulling all the way to the tip just to slam you back down for your ass to meet its hips.

You’re unsure how many times you’ve cum by now, it’s certainly been a couple times but you’ve been completely unaware because your mind is on cloud nine and the difference between pain and pleasure has been blurred. Right then, a particularly hard thrust straight into your sensitive bundle of nerves makes your body go limp, mouth hung open in a silent scream, no sound coming out but your body convulses within the dark grasp of its massive hand. Your eyes had rolled back so far only the whites of your eyes were visible and you swear you died again right then. Shade’s pace didn’t falter, fucking you straight into overstimulation, fucking you dumb, drool dripped from your agape mouth.

Shade is becoming increasingly feral with his ministrations, you’re to the point where you can’t hold a single thought for more than a second, not being helped by Shade maneuvering your body to turn you over so your chest is being pressed against the mattress and your ass is high up in the air. It doesn’t miss a beat thrusting into your spent cunt to continue right where it left off. Its pace doesn’t falter for a second no matter how arduous it’s been fucking into you and you’re not better than a rag-doll being used for the shadow’s pleasure. Your throat is raw and sore from all the screams, moans, and whines.

You’re tired, possibly nearly unconscious, and completely drunk in pleasure. Pleas of mercy have turned to begs of more, don’t stop, harder over and over like a desperate prayer. Even your cheeks are raw from the tears, every little caress makes them sting but you take it. Your hips are pushing back against its cock, off rhythm but the effort is there. There’s no matching the shadow’s inhuman pace even if your stamina could. Barely. Shade tangled a shadowy hand in your hair to press your head into the sheets, using its weight to cage you down.

You feel its long, icy tongue lick a path from the bottom of your spine all the way up the nape of your neck, tasting the coat of sweat over your body. It sends a full body shiver and for once you actually feel yourself cum. Sinking further into the mattress your hands cling onto the sheets tightly, “Shade, no more, no more please!” you can’t even recognize your own voice. It’s hoarse, barely audible. The lewd, squelching sound bounced off the walls, and the sounds of your bodies rang loud in your ears making the blush of your face an even brighter red. Its thrust is brutal and unrelenting. It’s beyond you how you can withstand being split open by such a beast without breaking. It seems to obey you for the first time since it started having its way with you body.

However, in the next moment, it’s pulling your hair to bring up against his chest. Leaning back against the headboard and laying your back against him with its cock still nuzzled deep inside you. You look down to assess the damage, your tired eyes go wide seeing all the bloody bites and scattered bruises, there are finger pricks around your hips and thighs where he gripped you. The thing that really draws your attention is the prominent bulge in your tummy and the sheer size of the stretch of your hole. There’s cum and juices dripping down to your and Shade’s thighs too. You relax into the embrace, exhausted even if you’re still being made to cock-warm it, at least it’s no longer moving; you’re far too overstimulated and doubt you could handle any more.

The Shadow, though, had other plans. Shade appears to have infinite stamina already grabbing the underside of your thighs to lift you up and down his girthy length. You have neither the will nor the strength to combat it, only tightening around it and holding on to its forearms for dear stability. Shade used its tongue to lick away stray tears as one of its ghostly hands pressed on the bulge on your belly. It made you yelp, every inch dragging along your inside felt like your insides were on fire. Your eyes are fixed on where its cock disappeared inside you mesmerized by the way it parted your folds and your body accommodates it. “S-Shit you’re— so fucking big.” your voice is small, pathetic, barely audible. But your hips are still moving, you’re still ready to cum for the umpteenth time today.

Head swims with lust, you’re reaching highs of rapture you never thought possible; Shade has pushed you to your absolute limits miraculously without breaking you. It growls again, louder this time, and its hold on you clamps down like a vice. It makes you wince in pain before you feel a hot liquid spill and cover your insides. It came, finally, triggering your own orgasm with a shrill scream. You squirt involuntarily just from the overstimulation alone. The sheets soak and make a huge mess from the spray of juices, making a mess on your own legs, and Shade’s as well. This time it actually stops thrusting now that it has reached its release but doesn’t pull out, you lay there completely limb in his arms. It goes back to nuzzling your face sweetly, making a purring sound, and caressing your stomach softly. You could barely keep your eyes open at this point from sheer exhaustion.

Hearing a familiar voice yanks you out of your blissful trance, “I see you have been quite busy today, my dear.” A silky smooth voice resonates across the room making your head whip around to find the source. Alastor steps out of the shadows with a wide, wicked smile. You try to find your words but it’s futile. You’re too far gone and there’s no way you’re able to speak now. However, Alastor doesn’t press further, nor does he comment on the cuddling. He knew already, of course. For now, he’d let you rest and have a stern talk with his shadow later. “Why don’t we get you cleaned up, hmm?” he offered with a soft voice and a gentle hand. Shade lifted you into his arms and disappeared back into the shadows suddenly leaving you feeling empty and copious amounts of cum spilled from your pussy, making you wince and grimace. Alastor stayed silent as he carried you to the bath, running warm water before easing you in.

“I missed you today.” were the first words you managed to croak out. Your throat is still fucked, it likely would be for some time. Alastor is careful cleaning your body and rolling up his sleeves to be able to wash your hair. You’re not quite meeting his gaze, which he found amusing.

“Did you now? You seemed a little preoccupied when I came back— In fact you didn’t even notice when I had arrived.” the lilt in his voice is teasing, you can hear a chuckle.

You groan softly, “You watched?” you ask with embarrassment written all over your face. He silently continues to massage the shampoo into your hair without answering the question. You didn’t know what made it worse; the silent confirmation or if he had admitted to watching you get absolutely wrecked by his shadow.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll have my turn with you and you can have the real thing. See how you manage then.”

Your thighs clenched at his statement. Your whole body ached painfully, there’s no way you’ll be partaking in any strenuous activities for at least a week; there’s no way you’re walking for a couple days either. Alastor chuckled at how easily he could rile you up even after getting absolutely destroyed by a demonic entity.

“Just so you know, me and that shadow are connected,” he brought the shower head to rinse the shampoo off, “It’s a part of me, its thoughts are my thoughts, what it feels I feel.” It almost seems like an offhanded piece of information but this makes you realize something. Shame, embarrassment, and horror make your body stiffen.

© 2024 the-xolotl — all rights reserved. do NOT alter, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my consent, do not claim my content as yours.

[beenbaanbuun]

guard dog pt.2 w/ jeong yunho

idk if this will become a series (it absolutely will, i love him). if you have any asks about this little series then i’ll be more than happy to answer them 🥰

warnings - yandere!yunho, hybrid!yunho, role reversal, yunho calls reader puppy, talk of murder, talk of living in a bad neighbourhood, allusions to masturbation, choking

pt1

you were under the impression that by wearing yunho’s jumper, it might piss him off just a little bit

but as you walk into the living room where he lays, limbs slung across the couch that he deemed beneath him no more than a few nights ago, you’re shocked to see a smirk playing on his lips

if you had much more on beneath it, you might have torn it from your body and thrown it at his smug face, but you wouldn’t want to give the mutt the satisfaction of seeing your tits

“going somewhere, puppy?” it’s been three long, arduous days and he still hasn’t dropped the nickname

you’re this close to getting your name tattooed in hold across your forehead; maybe then he won’t forget it

“the shop,” you walk over to grab your boots; heavy and intimidating and perfect for kicking any creep that gets too close, “i want a snack.”

“there’s plenty of food in the fridge,” he deadpans as you make your way over to the sofa

he doesn’t move, not even when you glare so hard at his legs that he can practically feel you burning holes in them

annoying prick

you settle for sitting right on the edge of the cushion, just far enough on to keep yourself from toppling to the floor as you slip your shoes onto your feet

“i don’t want the food in the fridge,” you say simply as you tie your laces, “if i wanted the food in the fridge, i’d eat the food in the fridge.”

a few seconds of silence pass by, and you’re almost positive that he spends them rolling his eyes behind your back

“it’s dangerous to go out at this time on your own,” as if that’s not the most obvious thing in the world

luckily for you, you have the safe streets memorised, and you carry your keys tight in your fist as a make-shift shiv

yunho seems to forget that you’ve lived here far longer than he has; you’re far too used to how dangerous it can be when twilight hits

“nothing stopping you from coming with,” you suggest, although you hope to everything that is holy that he says no

“i’m not getting changed out of my pyjamas, puppy,” a sigh of relief escapes your mouth as he gives you what want

“well, i’m going either way,” you insist, and he nods in understanding, expecting no less of you

you’re not ashamed to admit that you’re stubborn, maybe even sometimes to the point of being a brat

it’s just so fun to see your victim’s get riled up as you push each of their buttons over and over again

part of you hoped you would’ve learned yunho’s buttons by now, enough to get a little rise out of him, at least

but as he looks you up and down with nothing but neutrality in his eyes, you know that yet again you’ve failed

perhaps you’ve met your match, at long last; the person who can turn each and every jab around and aim them back at you

as your annoyance rises within you, making your bones buzz and your heart clench tight in your chest, you understand just how true that is

and you’re fucking stuck with him

“have fun getting murdered down some dark alley, then,” he just waves you off, only serving to piss you off more

“you’re a prick,” you spit in retaliation

your footsteps are heavy as you head to the door, eyes already trained on the little table you stash your keys on for safekeeping

the little silver stash normally takes pride of place, sitting pretty in the centre so as to not go unseen whenever you’re in a rush to leave

but the table is empty, and you know you won’t have put your keys anywhere else

but then there’s a tinkle behind you; the gentle sound of metal upon metal drawing your attention away from where the keys should be to where they actually are

the mutt’s black ears twitch atop his head as he gently fingers the bundle

you watch as the light catches, reflecting back on his stupidly handsome face in dots of shimmering light

fortunately, his prettiness only makes him that much easier to hate; of course the bastard is a prick when he looks like that

“yunho, give me my keys,” your voice is stern, tired of whatever game it is he’s playing already

“don’t want to,” he says, amusement laced through his words

the keys clink louder this time as he takes them in his fist before slipping them into his sweatpants without another word

“yunh—”

“let’s play a game, puppy,” he cuts you off, “if you fetch the keys like a good pup, i’ll let you go to the store. that sound good?”

the smile he wears is wicked, all teeth like he’s a snarling beast

he might look human, for the most part, but the sharp canines that dig into his bottom lip are a harsh reminder that he’s closer to that beast than he seems

but you’re not in the business of losing, and you certainly refuse to give up without a fair fight

if he wants to play dirty, then dirty is what he’ll get

it takes a mere few seconds for you to cross the room back to the couch, shimmying round it until you’re standing in front of him, legs lined up with his crotch

you sink to your knees, not daring to look at his face despite hearing the deep chuckle he gives you in response

“which pocket?” you spit, words sharp and impatient

“work it out, pup.”

you jump at the feeling of a warm hand petting the top of your head, fingers curling around an invisible pair of dog ears to match his own

you try your best to ignore everything about the situation; the game of fetch, the way you’re knelt at his feet, the way his hand absentmindedly plays with your hair

everything about it screams puppy, and that is not your fucking name

your fingers dip into his left pocket, feeling around for a moment or two before coming out empty handed

you don’t even allow a second to tick my before you delve your fingers into his other pocket and feel around in a similar way

but you can’t feel anything in there either, and it stumps you

yunho hums as you draw your fingers back, finally shifting your unamused gaze back to his face

“you know what i think?” he starts, and you nod, desperate for a hint of some kind, “i think you’d be so pretty with a collar wrapped around that lovely little neck of yours.”

it takes you off guard a little, not at all what you were expecting to drop from his mouth

and yet somehow, as the words sink in a little, you find yourself rather unsurprised

you shoot him the harshest glare you can muster before pushing his hand firmly away from your head

“well i don’t have a collar around my nec—”

the warm palm you pushed from your skull not a second prior, now lies on your throat

you can feel it, gentle yet firm as it holds you in place and pushes your protests away

“are you sure about that, puppy?” he growls; a sound that travels straight to your core, “from where i’m sitting, it looks like you do.”

it takes everything in you to shuffle back, just far enough away that his hand slips free of your neck and falls flat against the leather of your sofa

you stand on shaky legs, taking a few steps towards the bathroom as you do everything in your power to not look at him

if you do, you’re not quite sure what will happen

but your avoidant eyes miss the way he slips the keys free of his waistband and tosses them onto the coffee table, satisfied enough in his win to know he doesn’t have to hide them anymore

“i’m going for a shower,” you say with a shaky voice, slipping out of his sight as he gives you a hum of affirmation

it looks like the shower head will come in handy tonight

[livecrow]

You've been kidnapped by the local butcher and he convinces you he's going to fucking eat you.

Dark!Ghost x fat fem reader drabble

CWs: dead dove, rape, dehumanization, gaslighting, bondage, undiscussed kink(?), animal play(?), threats and talk of cannibalism but no actual cannibalism

(A tidied up and extended ramble I subjected @391780 to on anon. Inspired directly from their post where Butcher!Simon draws a diagram of beef cuts on you.)

_____________________________________________________________

It’s pretty immediately obvious he’s a murderer. He’s probably a serial killer for all you know.

In reality, Simon doesn’t consider himself a serial killer, despite his body count. He’s just someone who doesn’t have qualms dealing with nuisances. He’s a retired vet, after you’d killed enough people, what’s a few more? 

No, his kills were just business, practical. They were men who made the mistake of getting in his way, of being inconvenient. Most, anyway—there’s at least one or two whose only crime was being an especially annoying cunt. Sometimes, some people  “jus’ need killin’”. 

As a butcher, he does find the implication funny, but no, he’s not eaten any of the scum he’s off’ed. “Don’t serve ‘em up to customers, neither”. After all, Simon’s got far higher standards than that. They weren’t even fit for dog food and he has a reputation to uphold. No one can compete with his quality. 

No, you’re nothing like them. You’re special.

Never in his life had he seen a prettier creature—and you’re absolutely prime. He’s salivating just looking at you, plump and oh so soft. He can see it in the way your skin wobbles gently as you move about. Simon couldn't find a straight line on you. And he’s looked. He’s been transfixed watching you, aching.

You live your life meandering obliviously, no brand in sight, not even a tag on your ear. He's surprised no one else snatched you up. Poor thing left to fend for itself ‘s cruel. Nothing else to it. 

Wrangling you was simple, it’s not like your large form actually offered you anything towards your defense. It was easy, really. Your lack of instincts was staggering, it was even more shocking that you lasted this long, he almost couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

You were clueless to the danger, even when it was directly in front of you, it only endeared you to him. Your eyes roved over him, not paying him any mind, just carrying on about your undoubtedly inane business. Only when he was on you and it was too late did you start to kick up a fuss.

The look of panic on your face was just priceless. All this crying and babbling nonsense like, “What are you doing?!” and “Stop!”.

Simon's main concern was not damaging you too much, he was careful. Just a single huge bicep around your neck and any fight you had seemingly evaporated with fright. You're bent over in a headlock, his grip as rigid as a pillory, but he’s not applying enough pressure to actually choke you. You’re just forced helplessly to come along or be dragged.

Not that it would have mattered if you were too wild to be led, he would simply tighten his hold, and allow up a quick nap. He’d pull out the dolly, load up the truck and be on his way.

On the big stainless steel work table the metal stings you even through your clothes. Unfortunately for you, even that scant protection doesn't last. The sight of the shears was enough to paralyze you again, and with a handful of strategic snips, Simon rips your last vestiges of humanity from you. All your skin transforms to gooseflesh, shivering on the table, but your nipples is where his roaming gaze finally settles.

He’ll have to remember to adjust the heat later. After all, “‘s a bit early to start chillin’ you”, he’d chuckle. You were a bit of silly thing, he thought. Maybe it’d be a minute till you’d actually catch on.

You're his little prize. Simon will coddle you, give you plenty of softness and warmth. You’ll not want for blankets, pillows, and other such treats, but not a stitch of clothing will ever touch your skin again. There would be no hiding your nakedness.

“Clothes? Clothes ‘re for people, what y’ need clothes for?” he scoffed. You don’t make the mistake of thinking it’s a question, because he doesn’t want you to answer. A dog doesn’t answer “who's a good boy?” does he? 

He’s measuring you, jotting things down. You think distantly that the pencil looks puny in his fist. While he's at it, he's feeling and squeezing every inch of you. You’re groped and prodded like some saran wrapped package of beef at the grocery store.

Only when you think there’s finally a reprieve, you’re being hogtied. You’re trussed up in practically half a roll of twine, fat bulging between the strands, desperate to escape its bite. Simon says it looks good on you, can’t resist taking one of your new little rolls between his fingers, giving you a teasing pinch. You struggle of course, but the terrifying man commands you to “Settle”, says the only thing your fussing will get you is rope burn. 

He claps you on the ass affectionately, assuring you that the scratchy string is only temporary. He knows a guy for leather, does good work. All hand stitched. Simon will have a proper harness made for you. Something with a lot of d-rings. It will be more comfortable for you and he can situate you how he likes with minimal bruising or chaffing. 

As he admires your skin, he’ll remark offhandedly that he’ll have to ""'ave somethin' from you" too. He’s not usually one to bother, but it’d be a travesty to waste hide like yours. Couldn’t find more supple could y’? He hasn’t decided what’ll be yet, he’ll need to do some maths to figure out how much material you'll make. Behind his mask and the façade of impassivity, he savors your reaction. That’d be about the first time your consciousness flees from you.

Simon will lay it on thick, praise how "well-marbled" you are. Delectable. So plump and well-fed, you can't blame him for any of this, really. He'll say something about kobe beef and taking good care of you. He’ll massage you daily, knead every inch of you between his huge oiled hands. He'd take his time, temple t' toes. You couldn’t get a knot in a muscle if you tried.

Your more delicate bits don’t escape his tender ministrations either. He takes painstaking work in rubbing your insides down with thick fingers, wringing orgasms from you until you're limp and still as the rest of the meat in his shop. Says it’s good for the flavor, will make you even sweeter.

It’s all completely horrifying, it has to be a nightmare. He says all this so casually, like he’s telling you the time of day. This man is truly completely deranged. 

His hands are always on you, it’s never fucking ending. He's taken it upon himself that you never “exert” yourself and you have no choice in the matter. Bastard won’t even let your hands free to eat or bathe. He "grooms" you. Brushes your hair, trims your nails, cleans your teeth, brushes, lathers, rinses, dries, moisturizes your skin. It’s humiliating and you hate every second of it.

The juxtaposition is too much, the horror and absurdity of it all. All the restraints and manhandling, your looming demise, while insisting on soft surfaces for you, water temperature just right, food carefully curated and cut up just so. He won’t let anything happen to spoil the meat.

He doesn’t spare any expense on your “feed” either. You eat what he eats, might as well be eating off his plate. Albeit simple, it’s good food, you don't see a point in denying it. It's fresh and flavorful and to no one’s surprise it includes a lot of meat. Always from his shop of course, only the best for you.

He’ll bring out some new parcel every night for dinner, unfolding the brown paper wrapping, holding up to you to admire his work. “‘S a ribeye”. He goes on about the marbling, the even color of the meat. “Couldn’t find fresher” he’d say, "was only jus' bleedin' this mornin'".

You’re his captive audience. There’s nothing else you can do but warily watch him make dinner, even if seeing a blade in his hand gives your heart palpitations. Steak, sautéed mushrooms, jacket potatoes, roasted broccoli.

You’ve long since stopped fighting him when it comes to meals. Because it can always get worse. After being bent over on the floor, forced to eat off a dish without the use of your hands, you’d resigned yourself to the fact that eating off his fork was a sufferable compromise. Still, if he’s in a mood he won’t even allow that. You'll eat off his fingers, and he’ll laugh at your expense and chide you when you inevitably “make a mess”. 

The food was prepared, but this time the kitchen knife didn’t leave his grasp. It wasn’t a steak knife. It was too big and not serrated, but that didn’t seem to bother Simon. It certainly bothered you. Its presence loomed like a guillotine in your peripheral.

He feeds you bites between his own. Every mouthful and he looks so pleased. You desperately missed his mask at meal times. At least then you couldn’t see his smug fucking face.

On the plate the steam billows and curls. The meat gives easily under your molars, practically melts in your mouth. Hot and rich and juicy, it’s basted in butter, with garlic cloves and sprigs of rosemary, seasoned with cracked peppercorn and flakey sea salt. It’s a touch rarer than you’d like. 

You wish you were capable of escaping the horror of it all for even a second, pretend you were anywhere else, with anyone else.

Simon punctuated his first bite with a low rumble of approval, watching you with those dark, cavernous eyes. He’d continued in that way, a man content in silence.

”...you'll taste better.”

He waited until your last bite to say it, maybe that was mercy on his part. The meat transformed in your mouth, became sinewy and bitter. You couldn’t swallow, and went to spit it out. But he expected that apparently, was on you in a second. Giant rough hand sealed over your lips, practically enclosing the bottom half of your face, smooshing your cheeks up into your eyes. 

“Chew.”

It takes longer than usual, but you try to obey. His hand hasn’t moved from your mouth.

“Swallow.”

His eyes move from yours to your neck, his thumb grazing your throat lightly, tracing the bite’s trajectory as you force it down. His eyes are back on you then. 

With Simon’s free hand he deftly pierces the last drippy morsel off the plate with the knife, popping it between his scarred lips. The hand still on you moves, migrates to cup your jaw, gradually starting to squeeze. You don’t have any fight left and open before it becomes painful.

Fear paralyzes you again, when he brings the knife towards you.

The movement is slow, as if he’s actually concerned about frightening you. He’s holding it longwise, pointed off to the side.

Then it’s on your tongue.

He drags the flat of the blade’s length across the trembling muscle, leisurely, only moving it away to flip it and clean the other side, myoglobin discarded on your tongue 

“They’ll say ’m ‘spoilin’ ‘er rotten’. Eatin’ off my own plate, sleepin' in my own bed, warm under my roof. Keepin’ you safe indoors. Such a sweet, tame thing, are you?”. He strokes your cheek, wiping at a drip at the corner of your mouth with a thumb before popping that in his mouth too.

Whenever Simon’s put up enough with your smart mouth, he enjoys the look of your wide wet eyes and your trembling lips stretched around a padded ring gag.

The sounds you make when gagged are special little nonsense noises, almost like you're trying to talk like a person would. Sweet, pitiful sounds. He also loves when wet, choked sobs that cascade out of your open mouth, forcing you to drool. “You’re so messy, sweet’eart. Nose runnin’, too.” Says you're leaking from practically every hole. Eyes, nose, mouth, cunt.

Sometimes, you might almost be fooled into thinking he feels sorry for you in those moments when you're hyperventilating and hysterical, or wailing so mournfully. He always hushes you when you're crying, pets and hold you, dries your face, as if he’s not the cause of your tears. Despite how much Simon adores the taste of them, adores the soft jingling of the little cow bell tied ‘round your throat when your whole body quivers with sobs, the stress will sour the meat. He’ll say as much, but surprisingly it doesn’t help calm you down.

If it was necessary, he's not opposed to sedation. After all, he's done the research to find one that won't affect your flavor. But most of the time, his solution to your despair is yet another thorough fucking. Dopamine to counteract the stress.

Simon forces the orgasms out of your body as easily as he forces his cock into it, you're utterly helpless to stop either. His livelihood is working with his hands and unfortunately he’s damn good at it. When all's said and done and you're spent, he’ll lightly chastise you for working yourself up, for fussing.

He loves the heft of you in his hands, weighs your heavy tits in his palms, grips your ample belly. Simon can't resist taking mouthfuls of you into his mouth, worrying your supple fat with his incisors. Your tits, ass, thighs, arms, belly, back fat, hell, your double chin. It doesn't matter, any squishy bit of you. You're always afraid he might be getting impatient, that he’ll take a bite out of you, but he never does. Simon says he's just sampling, maybe tenderizing you a little. 

His favorite taste of yours is still between your legs. He has you thank him for being so careful there. Past you inner thighs and plump mons, the pressure of his teeth yields, feeling barely a graze. 

He likes putting mirrors in front of you, says he wants you to see how lovely you are. Your hands are clipped together, chain snagged in one of the shop's many meathooks, just low enough that you don’t strain your shoulders or quite have to stand on your tiptoes.

He directs you to watch, popping the lid off of a permanent marker with a squeak.

He maneuvers you this way and that as he works, dragging the marker down your body. His lines are surprisingly clean considering his canvas is such a pliant, organic shape. Hand are as steady as a surgeon. The marker tickled terribly on skin, the ethanol smell burning your nose, making it hard to think.

It only took a minute to recognize what he was doing. Your skin itches under the felt tip. You flail, trying desperately to smear it, to muss his work, but the ink dries too quickly.

Simon wouldn't let you keep your eyes closed, so in that moment you were grateful for the onslaught of tears blurring your vision somewhat.

That day, he showed you all your different cuts, as if you cared, as if you were together enough to pay attention.

Chuck, rib, loin, sirloin, rump, round, flank, plate, brisket, shank.

He tells you which are his favorite. Tells you which of his mates he’ll have over to enjoy you, ponders what pieces he’ll think they’ll like best. How to cook different cuts to get the best effect, that some cuts are naturally tougher and have to be cooked slowly, while the other cuts are tender and fatty, can be cooked at a higher temperature, quicker. 

From the very beginning, he’s referenced the “Big Day”.

He’ll ask if you're excited over the shinnnnk of a knife against a whetstone. Simon always keeps his tools in order, clean and sharpened expertly, but he thinks he'll polish them up extra shiny for the occasion. To a mirror finish, so you can see yourself. You're so beautiful, it'd be a cryin' shame for you to miss it. 

It’s been months now you’ve been with him and the day never comes. 

...

You didn't dare question it.

But if you did, Simon would just chuckle, amused that you're so eager. Maybe he'll say that he decided he wants some milk from you instead.

[soulofapatrick]

A part of me is tethered to you - Azriel x female reader 

Summary: you can’t sleep and go to see out your best friends but end up going to Azriel

Warnings: none really; more fluff than anything 

Words: 4.3K

Y/N's POV

I toss and turn in bed, every position more uncomfortable than the last. My sheets are tangled around my legs, and no matter how many times I close my eyes, the restless feeling gnaws at me. Sleep refuses to come, my thoughts too loud and the remnants of my nightmare still clawing at the edges of my mind.

With a sigh, I sit up, running a hand through my hair. It’s no use—I won’t find peace tonight, not like this. Feyre or Cassian is probably still awake; they usually are, always up late. Maybe talking to one of them would help, at least enough to shake off this tension.

I slip out of bed and pull on my robe, the cool air of the House of Wind whispering over my skin as I step into the hallway. The house is quiet, its usual warmth a little muted in the dead of night. The stone beneath my feet feels grounding, steadying, but as I make my way down the corridor, something shifts inside me.

As I pass Azriel’s door, an invisible pull tugs at me, soft but insistent. I stop in my tracks, my heart suddenly beating faster in my chest. His door is closed, but the moment I’m near it, it’s as if something deep within me is drawn to it. A feeling I can’t quite explain—like I’m being called to him, to his presence, without words or reason.

I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t.

I’m supposed to be heading to Cassian’s, but my feet don’t move. Instead, I find myself staring at Azriel’s door, the weight of my unspoken feelings pressing against my chest. I’ve tried to keep them buried, tried to convince myself that what I feel for him is nothing more than friendship—admiration, respect for the way he carries himself, for the quiet strength he exudes. But I know it’s a lie.

It’s so much more than that.

The truth is, I’m drawn to him in ways I can’t even fully comprehend. There’s something about him that calls to me—his shadows, his silence, the way he moves through the world with such restraint, such quiet intensity. And then there are the rare moments when his gaze lingers on me just a second too long, when the soft brush of his hand against mine sends a shock of warmth through my entire body.

I’ve been fighting these feelings for too long, pretending I don’t care. But standing here now, the pull toward his room stronger than ever, I can’t deny it anymore.

My hand hovers over the doorknob, hesitation prickling at the edges of my mind. What am I doing? I shouldn’t be here. He didn’t invite me in. But the draw is too strong to ignore, as if my heart knows something my mind doesn’t.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I grip the handle and twist, slipping inside as quietly as possible. The door shuts behind me with a soft click, and I’m immediately enveloped by the warmth of his space. Shadows flicker lazily along the walls, but they seem calm, almost serene.

And then there’s his scent—cedarwood, smoke, and something distinctly him. It fills the room, wrapping around me like an embrace, and I find myself inhaling deeply, letting it seep into my skin. My heart races, but it’s not from fear or anxiety. It’s from something deeper, something that stirs in my chest every time I’m near him.

I step further into the room, my eyes falling on his bed. It’s perfectly made, the dark blankets smoothed out neatly. The pull tugs again, more insistent this time, urging me closer. My fingers graze the soft fabric, and a shiver runs through me. His bed looks so inviting, so warm, and without thinking, I let my hand glide over the blanket. I know I shouldn’t, but the temptation is too much.

Before I can stop myself, I’m pulling the covers back and slipping beneath them, sinking into the softness of his mattress. His scent is even stronger here, enveloping me completely, and I can’t help the way my body relaxes, every muscle softening as the warmth of the bed wraps around me.

It feels… right. Comforting in a way I hadn’t expected. As if being in his bed is exactly where I’m meant to be.

My head sinks into his pillow, and the overwhelming sensation of him makes my breath catch in my throat. My heart pounds in my chest, the awareness of what I’m doing—the intimacy of it—settling deep into my bones. It feels forbidden, like I’m crossing a line, but it also feels… so good. Like I’ve been craving this closeness, this connection, for longer than I want to admit.

I close my eyes, breathing him in, letting the warmth of his bed and the quiet of his room seep into me. There’s something about this space that makes me feel safe, something about him that makes the chaos in my mind go quiet. My feelings for Azriel—those hidden, aching feelings I’ve tried so hard to suppress—bubble to the surface, and for a moment, I let myself indulge in them.

What if… what if I didn’t have to hide them? What if he felt the same? The thought sends a thrill through me, but I push it aside, knowing it’s dangerous to hope for something like that.

Still, as I curl deeper into his bed, I can’t help but imagine him here, lying beside me, his presence a quiet comfort. I can almost feel the weight of his arm around me, the warmth of his body pressed close. It’s a fantasy I’ve had more times than I care to admit, but here, wrapped in the reality of his space, it feels closer than ever.

And as the scent of him and the softness of his bed lull me further into warmth, I let my eyes drift shut, letting the fantasy take over, letting myself believe—for just a little while—that this could be real.

Sleep comes easily this time, with Azriel in my thoughts, the pull on my heart finally settling as I drift into a dream.

The gentle caress of fingers across my cheek stirs me from sleep. It's soft, featherlight, and for a moment, I think I'm still dreaming. But then it comes again—a slow, deliberate brush of fingertips against my skin, followed by the feeling of someone smoothing my hair back from my face.

I blink, eyes fluttering open, the world still hazy with sleep. It takes a second to register where I am, but when I do, my heart lurches in my chest.

Azriel is sitting on the edge of the bed, his dark eyes watching me with an expression so soft, so tender, that it sends a wave of warmth rushing through me. His shadows curl around him, flitting in and out of the room’s dim light, but there’s something about the way they seem to reach for me—gentle, almost curious, as if they’re part of him, mirroring the way his hand is smoothing my hair back. His touch is delicate, like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he presses too hard.

My breath catches in my throat. This isn’t a dream.

Azriel’s gaze is steady, his eyes full of something I can’t quite name—something that makes my chest tighten and my skin flush. There’s no anger, no judgment. Just a quiet intensity, like he’s trying to figure out why I’m here, in his bed, yet there’s no trace of displeasure in his expression. If anything, he looks… amused. Fond, even.

I can’t breathe. My mind scrambles, replaying every step that led me here, and embarrassment crashes over me like a tidal wave. I’m in Azriel’s bed. His bed. Without permission. Without an invitation. Oh gods, what was I thinking?

Heat floods my face, and before I can stop myself, I yank the duvet over my head, retreating beneath the heavy fabric as if it could somehow shield me from the mortification that’s burning through me. My heart is hammering in my chest, and I’m sure my face must be crimson beneath the covers.

I hear a soft chuckle—low, barely audible—and it only makes my humiliation worse. Azriel, the Shadowsinger, deadly and unreadable, is laughing at me. Of course he is. I’m in his bed, hiding under his duvet like some child, utterly mortified by the fact that he found me here.

I can still feel his presence beside me, the warmth of him seeping through the blanket, his hand still resting lightly on top of the duvet where I know my head is hidden beneath. His fingers brush the fabric, a comforting gesture, as if to coax me out from my hiding place.

But I can’t. I can’t face him right now—not with my heart pounding like this, not with the knowledge that I’ve crossed a line I didn’t even realize I was crossing until it was too late.

His voice breaks the silence, soft and soothing. “You don’t have to hide.”

The sound of his voice sends a shiver down my spine, and my grip tightens on the duvet. He sounds so calm, so gentle, and I don’t understand how he can be so unbothered when I’m dying of embarrassment under his blanket.

“I—” I try to speak, but the words get caught in my throat. What can I even say? How do I explain that I felt drawn to his room, that the pull was so strong I couldn’t resist? That I didn’t mean to invade his space, that I was just so tired and somehow, being here, surrounded by his scent and his warmth, made everything feel right?

I squeeze my eyes shut beneath the blanket, heat still rising to my cheeks. This is a nightmare. But instead of running, he stays—quiet, patient. His shadows curl around me, and I can feel the gentle pulse of his presence, waiting for me to emerge. Waiting for me to face him.

I take a breath, trying to calm my racing heart, and slowly—hesitantly—I pull the duvet down just enough to peek out at him. He’s still there, his dark eyes fixed on mine, and the warmth in his gaze makes my stomach flip.

His lips curve into the slightest smile, and it takes everything in me not to hide again. But there’s no judgment in his eyes, no anger. Only that quiet, steady intensity that always seems to surround him, as if he’s seeing something in me that I’ve tried so hard to keep hidden.

“I didn’t mean to…” I trail off, my voice barely above a whisper, not knowing how to explain myself, not knowing how to make this less awkward. “I couldn’t sleep, and… I just…” I glance away, feeling the burn of my embarrassment all over again.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just watches me, and then his hand moves again, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear, his touch so tender it almost undoes me.

“You’re always welcome here,” he says softly, his voice like a whisper in the quiet room.

Azriel’s soft gaze lingers on me, and I can feel the warmth of it, steady and reassuring. I should feel more embarrassed than I already do, but there’s something about him—his presence, the way he’s just there—that soothes me. His hand is still gentle in my hair, smoothing it back in a rhythm that makes me want to close my eyes again and sink into it.

“What’s going on?” he asks quietly, his voice barely above a murmur. It’s a tone he uses when he wants someone to open up, when he’s coaxing out a truth they’re too afraid to admit. His fingers pause in my hair, and my breath catches in my throat. I don’t want to lie. I can’t lie—not to him.

“I’ve… I’ve been having nightmares,” I admit, the words coming out in a rush. I shift under the duvet, suddenly feeling vulnerable, exposed. “I haven’t been able to sleep. But last night…” I glance up at him, the blush rising again in my cheeks. “Last night, I slept. In here. In your bed. It was peaceful. I don’t know why, but it was.”

Azriel’s expression softens further, something like understanding flickering across his features. He studies me for a moment, his shadows still swirling around us like they’re listening too, before he nods. He doesn’t ask why I didn’t come to him earlier, or why I kept it to myself. He just accepts it, the way he always does.

He stands slowly, his movements deliberate, and I realize for the first time that he’s still in his armour—his siphons gleaming faintly in the dim light. The realisation sends a fresh wave of heat over me. He must’ve been out, maybe just returned from one of his late-night missions, and here I am, taking over his bed. My guilt surges, but then I see the calm in his eyes, and it melts away.

Azriel starts unfastening his siphons, setting each one down with a practiced ease, and as I watch, something strange stirs in my chest—something that makes me feel both breathless and desperate to look away. But I don’t. I can’t.

He removes the last of his armour, and his hands move to the hem of his shirt. In one smooth motion, he tugs it over his head and tosses it aside. My heart stutters as my eyes take in the sight of him—his toned chest, the ripple of muscles beneath his skin, the faint scars that only seem to add to the raw power that radiates off him. My gaze moves lower, following the line of his stomach, and I feel my face burn as I realize how little space there is between us.

I should look away. I should turn around and give him some privacy, but I don’t move. I can’t. My body seems frozen in place, my breath hitching in my throat as he unbuttons his tight trousers and shimmies out of them, leaving him standing in just his black boxers.

He’s beautiful. Inhumanly beautiful. His wings unfurl slightly behind him, leathery and dark, casting long shadows across the room. They’re massive, strong, and powerful, but there’s something almost graceful about them, like they’re an extension of him in more ways than just physically.

A strange ache settles low in my stomach as I watch him. The air between us feels charged, and my heart pounds in my chest, each beat louder than the last. I feel that tug again, that invisible thread pulling me toward him, urging me closer.

Azriel’s eyes meet mine, and they’ve darkened—intense and unreadable, like he knows exactly what’s going through my mind. His gaze seems to burn into me, the weight of it making my pulse race, and I swallow hard, trying to steady my breath. But it’s impossible, especially when he moves closer, closing the distance between us with slow, deliberate steps.

“Move over,” he murmurs, his voice rougher now, and it sends a shiver down my spine. I blink up at him, my body too tense to react, but then his lips curve into the faintest smile, a soft nudge to break the tension. “Come on,” he says, softer now, his eyes never leaving mine.

I scootch over, making room for him, though my heart pounds so hard I’m sure he can hear it. He slides into bed beside me, his body so close I can feel the heat radiating off him, and my breath catches again, the space between us suddenly feeling too small.

Azriel settles beside me, his wings curling slightly around us, cocooning us in a soft darkness. His presence is overwhelming in the best possible way, and as he lies there, inches from me, I can’t help but feel like the world has narrowed down to just us—this bed, this moment.

And I can’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—he feels it too.

Azriel shifts closer, the bed dipping beneath his weight, and before I can react, his arm slides around my waist, pulling me against him. My heart stumbles in my chest, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. He’s so close—closer than I’ve ever been to him. His warmth seeps into me, the solidness of his body pressing against mine in a way that feels both comforting and electrifying at the same time.

I should pull away, should give him space. But instead, I melt into him, my body fitting against his as if we’ve done this a thousand times. The scent of him—night-chilled air, cedar, and something uniquely Azriel—fills my senses, grounding me and setting me alight all at once.

His breath is warm against my hair, and I can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my hand. I’m not sure what to say, how to fill the space between us now that we’re like this, but then his voice breaks the silence, low and rough.

“You shouldn’t have to sleep alone if it’s that bad.” There’s a hint of something deeper in his words, something that sends a shiver down my spine. His thumb begins to trace slow circles along my waist, and I swear I can feel each stroke burning through the thin fabric of my clothes.

I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. “It’s not just the nightmares…” The words slip out before I can stop them. I don’t know why I said it—why I feel the need to bare the truth of what’s been gnawing at me. But now that the words are out, I can’t take them back.

He tenses slightly, his arm tightening around me. “What else is it, then?” His voice is softer now, but there’s a heaviness to it, like he’s afraid of the answer.

I hesitate, my pulse racing. The air between us seems to thrum with something unspoken, something that’s been simmering beneath the surface for so long I don’t know how to let it out. But lying here, wrapped in his arms, with the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear, I feel braver than I have in a long time.

“I sleep better when I’m with you,” I whisper, the admission barely audible, but I know he hears it. I feel his breath catch, the shift in his body as my words sink in. “Last night… it was the first time in ages I didn’t wake up in a panic.” My heart is pounding now, and I can feel the flush spreading across my cheeks. “Being near you… it calms me.”

There’s a long stretch of silence, and I bite my lip, wondering if I’ve said too much. If I’ve crossed a line. But then, slowly, Azriel moves, his fingers tilting my chin so I’m looking up at him.

His eyes are dark, swirling with emotions I can’t quite read, but there’s something there—something raw and intense that makes my breath hitch. His thumb brushes along my jaw, and I lean into the touch without thinking.

“I didn’t know,” he says quietly, his voice rough around the edges. His thumb strokes my skin again, almost like he’s testing the waters, and I feel that ache in my chest grow sharper. “I didn’t know it was like that for you.”

I blink up at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Azriel, I—” My voice falters, my throat tightening as the weight of what I’m feeling crashes over me. I’ve kept these feelings buried for so long, locked away because it never felt like the right time, because I didn’t think he’d ever see me like that. But now, with him holding me like this, the truth feels too close to keep hidden.

His hand moves to cup the side of my face, his touch so gentle it makes my heart ache. “You never have to hide from me,” he murmurs, his eyes searching mine. There’s a softness in his gaze, a vulnerability I’ve never seen before, and it takes my breath away.

My chest tightens, and I take a shaky breath, feeling the tug in my heart pulling me toward him, drawing me in. I don’t know if it’s his shadows or something deeper between us, but every part of me is screaming that this is where I’m supposed to be—here, with him.

That tug in my chest tightens, and suddenly, I know.

It’s not just attraction. It’s not just this bond between friends, or the warmth of being close to someone who understands me. It’s something more. Something I can’t deny anymore, no matter how hard I try.

“Azriel…” My voice is shaky as I look up at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt. “Do you feel that?”

His hand moves from my waist to cup my face, his thumb brushing my cheek. He nods, his jaw clenched, as if he’s struggling to find the right words. “I’ve felt it for a while now,” he admits, his voice low, almost hoarse. “I just didn’t know if it was real. If it was possible.”

I swallow hard, my heart racing as the realization settles between us. It’s not just a pull, not just a bond forged in battle or friendship. It’s deeper than that. Stronger. My emotions have always been sharp around him, heightened in ways I couldn’t explain, and now I understand why.

We’re mates.

The thought crashes into me like a storm, and I see the same realization flicker in his eyes. His breath hitches, and for a moment, he looks at me like he’s afraid to believe it, afraid to hope. But I feel it—the undeniable truth, the connection between us that’s always been there, waiting to be acknowledged.

“I didn’t want to push you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s always been there. That pull… every time I’m near you, I feel it. Like a part of me is tethered to you.”

My chest tightens, and I bite my lip, trying to steady my racing heart. “It’s the same for me,” I admit, my voice small but certain. “Whenever you’re close, I can feel it. Like you’re part of me.”

His thumb strokes my jaw again, and I shiver at the touch, my skin tingling under his gentle caress. “I thought I was imagining it,” he says quietly, his gaze never leaving mine. “But now… now I know.”

He leans in closer, his forehead resting against mine, and the warmth of him, the strength of him, floods through me. “We’re mates,” I whisper, the words heavy with meaning, and his grip on me tightens as he exhales shakily.

His eyes darken, and I see the raw emotion there—the longing, the need, the fear and hope all tangled together. “I never thought…” His voice breaks off, and he shakes his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I never thought I’d be this lucky.”

I feel a soft tug in my chest, that same pull toward him, and without thinking, I press my lips to his cheek, just a gentle touch, barely there. His breath hitches, and before I can pull away, his hand slips to the back of my neck, gently pulling me back toward him.

His lips are on mine in an instant, and the world falls away.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if we’re testing the waters, but it deepens quickly, becoming something more. It’s not just a kiss—it’s the release of everything we’ve held back for so long, all the unspoken feelings, the quiet longing, the need to be close. His hand slides to my waist, pulling me tighter against him, and I can feel his heart beating wildly beneath my palm.

I melt into him, my body pressing against his as his wings flare behind him, cocooning us in shadow. His lips move against mine, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second of it, and I can’t help the soft sigh that escapes me as I kiss him back with everything I have.

It’s not enough. I want more. I need more.

When we finally break apart, both of us are breathless, and I can see the same hunger in his eyes that I feel in my own chest. His forehead presses against mine, and his voice is a ragged whisper when he speaks.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing along my lower lip. “Wanted you for so long.”

I close my eyes, my heart full to bursting, and I press my lips to his once more. “I’ve wanted you too,” I whisper back, my voice trembling with the weight of the truth. “I think… I think I’ve always known.”

Azriel pulls me closer, and I rest my head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my ear. His wings wrap around us, sheltering us from the world, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I feel truly at peace. 

ACOTAR Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 20/10/2024 Carlos Sainz - Toys

Plot: Carlos finds your side draw of toys when your out with the girls and he can’t wait to try them out with you.

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, use of dildo, use of vibrator, use of toys, sex with toys, 18+ Minors DNI

Carlos and you had a very active sex life but it was pretty mundane. You guys stuck to the basics, going in the order of making out, to him fingering you, to you giving him a hand job or blow job and then sex, of course in missionary because that’s all you’d ever tried.

And you knew it wasn’t an issue with Carlos because he always satisfied you in every aspect of your relationship.

However there were times when you didn’t go to a race with him and you’d have your little selfcare days. You’d go to the local spa, you’d have a massive shower where you’d shave and do all of your facial cleansing and body scrubbing to the point you felt like a squeaky clean scrubbing brush.

And then came the other aspect of your self care. And that all resided in your locked side draw in the bedside cabinet. You and Carlos had one each, even though this was your apartment, he stayed here so often between races that it just made sense he had his own space for stuff.

But all the time you were in the relationship the draw remained locked and you never showed Carlos what you did when it was just you.

You had loads of toys, ranging from purple dildos to bunny shaped vibrators, to vibrators you could store in your panties and control through a mobile app, you had as much as you could physically force into that draw.

Your use them whenever Carlos wasn’t around, it was like your smutty little secret that you were okay with just keeping to yourself as you found it kind of embarrassing, this side of you and you never wanted Carlos to think he was doing enough because he was.

But then in a rush, you’d left the draw unlocked after you’d spent a morning with your rose toy that acted like a tongue and felt like it was eating you out. It was something that was able to work motorised and faster than a natural tongue.

And Carlos had got home before you. You’d asked him to hang up a picture for you as he was sort of the handy man in the house now that he was there more often than not. He went looking for a screwdriver and some nails to see if he could get it up. And of course he went looking in your bedside cabinet when he couldn’t find it in the kitchen or the utility room.

When he opened the draw he couldn’t say he wasn’t shocked. It was so out of the ordinary for you, but then again he couldn’t really tell.

He placed them all on the bed in an order of what shocked him the most to what looked relatively normal for you.

When you got home, you chucked your bag on the entrance way floor kicking of your heels and stepping into the open plan apartment.

“Carlos?” You shout into the house expecting him to be here. You walk a little further in until you hear a shuffling noise upstairs.

“Baby is that you?” You ask, pulling your hair down and placing the clip on the counter.

“I’m in the upstairs bedroom” Carlos Spanish accent sounds throughout the house and you rush upstairs excited to see him after so long.

As you enter the bedroom, you halt the minute you see him sat on the bed dildo in hand. Your eyes go from the draw to the collection now on the bed and up to Carlos who has a straight look on his face.

“I-“ you start but don’t even know what to say here.

“Can explain? Mmmm I’m sure you can, you dirty dirty girl. Why didn’t you show me any of this” he asks looking at you intrigued.

“Well, it was just sort of for me” you explain getting a little nervous seeing all of your stuff out on the bed.

“Think we can maybe use it together?” He asks, and in his mind he was hoping and begging you’d say yes. He wanted to see you unravel so badly, and he wanted to see how you reacted to all these different toys.

“I” you start but he comes up to you, pulling you closer to him, kissing your lips and holding you by the hips.

“Please baby, needa see you” he says in that accent that you knew you couldn’t say no too. All you do is nod and he’s picking you up, and placing you gently on the bed.

“What do i use first?” He grins looking at the array of toys in the bed. He picks up a dildo and your praying he doesn’t use that first.

He then moves to a standard bullet vibrator. He holds it out inspecting it before helping you sit back, placing the edge of it to the jeans you were wearing causing a little whimper at the slight pressure.

“Why has my naughty naughty cabron got all of these little toys and not sharing them with me huh?” He says and you lurch forward as he pushes it more against your clothed core.

He starts to pull your jeans down your legs until they are fully off, your panties showing a wet spot of your arousal. He stuff the vibrator into your panties holding it against your clit, not pulling away even when your hands grab at his wrists.

He loved playing with the different speeds and vibrations on it, testing them to see which one got the best reaction form you. It was like his very own treat, being able to find out these new things about you and what you enjoyed.

He shifts through the objects until he finds your silicone dildo, a nice flexible purple one that you used often and was a size that you really enjoyed. It was actually very similar to what you knew Carlos size was.

“Mmmmm I think I’ll get you one of these but moulded to my dick so you can have me wherever and whenever I’m not here to give my girl what she needs. Because this is what all of this is about right? It’s for when I’m not here?” He grins looking at the more stuff on the bed and all you can do is nod as he ups the setting once again on the vibrator it being close to the highest straight setting.

“Fuck Carlos” you moan clenching your legs together as those vibrations hit. He keeps is there making you moan out in a pornographic sort of way. He takes this moment to slide the dildo in. Thrusting it in and out how he would if it was him and his hips driving in and out of you.

“Oh, fuck fuck baby” you cry out looking over him holding one of his hands the one that’s still and holding the vibrator on your clit.

I’m seconds you’re squirting which is something you haven’t done before. By yourself or with Carlos present but who knew when you combine your two sexual worlds you’d have one for he most transcendent nights ever.

“Oh fuck, did you just squirt mi amor?” He asks with a happy grin, excited with this new found outcome of pleasure he can entice from you.

“Carlos” you moan. He chucks the used dildo to the side and pulls his own sweatpants down, his hard cock slapping up against his stomach before he takes your own panties off chucking them on the floor with the rest of the clothes.

He positions himself above you before pushing himself in and leaning into you when he feels your wet walls clamp down around him.

“Oh fuck you’re so beautiful. Oh my god” he moans out as he can feel the vibrator that’s moving against your clit still as he pumps in and out of you. The sensation of the vibrations was like nothing he’d ever felt before and he was like a wild man. His hips snapping in and out of you.

His free hand was holding him up but he wanted nothing more than too grab your tits and play with them because he loved nothing more than you’re tits they were actually probably his favourite thing about you.

“Oh that’s it baby, hold this for me” he says grabbing your hand and making you hold the vibrator in between the two of you. His hands make a grab for your tits and he squeezes a groan coming from him as he feels you clench around him.

“Baby” you moan out before you release that tension for the second time that night.

He cums in you feeling the tightness of you build in him and the vibrator pressed onto a high yet setting.

“Fuck baby, we’re using them all the time” he groans flopping next to you on the bed careful to miss all the toys.

“Sorry I kept it from you. I don’t like to hide things from you but … I was embarrassed” you say blushing.

“Never be embarrassed of that”

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