#as well as a long weekend courtesy of not working today

[altruistic-meme]

at least 4 people have now asked in the notes of my post for someone to talk theories/ideas about how the ada would react to actually seeing skk's dynamic in canon so now i have to go rewatch and take notes to fulfill these requests. im probably not going to rewatch the WHOLE show for it but i will be watching the first few episodes as well as every episode with chuuya and especially all of the skk interactions.

[phagodyke]

man i was planning on calling a friend tonight but they've blown me off completely with no explanation or apology. I would be annoyed but tbh I was kind of expecting them to do this 😮‍💨

[marvelsswansong]

melting snow

summary: the subtle, obvious, sweet, and at times - dangerous - ways Coriolanus shows his love for you.

tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, possessive and lovesick!Snow, mostly fluff with light allusions to smut, significantly off-canon from movie (no lucy gray and no sejanus betrayal), CW possessive/dark behavior, graphic descriptions of murder, violence (it's only the last bit of this fic that's quite dark/violent, so feel free to read up until then. Please take care of yourself!!!)

☆ word count: 4.6K+ words ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

one: subtle praise

At the beginning, he would mask his true feelings and physical urges towards you with a tight lipped grin and a reserved compliment. Something that acknowledges something you've done objectively well, with a genuine softness that didn't apply to any of his other classmates, but seemingly delivered in a nonchalant matter to feign indifference.

"Great dodge." he'd say to you, both of your chests heaving from adrenaline during fencing class. You'd nod gently, a shy "thank you" leaving your lips.

But when Clemensia wins the next round against him, Coriolanus doesn't go above simply shake her left hand in courtesy before leaving the arena briskly.

"Well played." he'd joke, when it was revealed during the final student appraisal that you'd beaten Coriolanus' marks by a few points. Despite Archane and Felix throwing subtle jabs at his way for "losing" the star student title, you'd just shrug off the compliment profusely, praising him endlessly.

"A mere fluke, really. You're the brilliant student. I reckon I just study hard and get lucky." you'd reply, straightening the cuffs of your jacket nervously. The blonde always found it so endearing how bad you were at taking compliments.

So different from the rest of the scum in Capitol, he thought.

Eventually, he'd start to turn his verbal compliments towards things unrelated to your capabilities and work. And more towards things that were of a personal nature, like your looks and dress.

"Your hair looks very nice today." he comments one afternoon late after school, his shoulders brushing against yours as you both await your rides home. Your hands fly up to your hair, to the small crown of daisies adorning your head, as if you've almost forgotten what you were wearing.

"You think so?" you shyly ask, looking up at him nervously. "I wouldn't have worn it to the academy if we hadn't been called down on immediate notice. It's just that the family I babysit for on the weekends, their daughter just turned six and... well, she was very insistent on making me a flower crown."

He finds your embarrassment awfully cute.

"But I swear, when Dr Gaul turned to look at me today, I thought she was going to kill me."

Coriolanus only rolls his eyes playfully at that, knocking his shoulders against yours.

"And what would she know about first rate fashion? You look amazing."

It's the nicest compliment you've gotten over a silly crown of flowers, your heart warming and your breath stuttering at his words. It's what motivates you to lightly squeeze his right arm before you get into the car, your touch lingering in his mind long after you depart.

A month later, Coriolanus runs into you at the farmer's market on a Sunday. His instructions by Tigris to "buy some bread and oranges for tomorrow" are almost forgotten in one fell swoop when he sees you. Free from your usual academic attire, you're wearing a flowy lilac dress which sits right below your knees, the silky fabric glowing in the yellow sunlight.

"This color really suits you." he decides to whisper in your ear after discreetly sliding into the space next to you, the action so sudden that it causes you to jump. Your shoulders soften when you recognize his striking blue irises, and then you pout, punching him right in the chest.

"You scared me, Snow." you jokingly scold him. "And where are your manners? You should always introduce yourself first to a lady."

He pretends to be wounded by that, hand on heart whilst leaning backwards.

"My deepest apologies. Would this help?" he asks, effortlessly pulling a white rose from his back pocket. He revels in how your gaze lightens up in awe and amusement at the gesture.

"Perhaps so." you reply back, fingertips brushing against his.

The blonde takes it as a sign to slide it behind your ear, the memory of your etheral form with his flower tucked behind your right ear etched into his mind before you're called away by your friends.

------------------------------

two: soft touches

Once he's sure that his feelings are reciprocated, Coriolanus would start to step the line over into something more serious. He's not willing to open up immediately nor is he necessarily a man of romantic prose. A large part of him is scared, even, of the way you make him feel.

After all, what is love if not vulnerability?

And how he could be vulnerable with you, a woman so far out of his league, widely adored and your family amongst the wealthiest in Panem?

So it would start off when the class seating arrangements are changed and you're seated next to Coriolanus for the remainder of the year.

He'd start to purposefully spread his legs a little bit wider than usual, his knees always brushing against yours.

He'd take every chance he could to lean over to explain something to you, his face a few inches away from yours, if you ever seemed stuck on a question.

He'd open the classroom door for you in the mornings and offer to carry your heavy textbooks back to your family's car after school, insisting that it was because he wouldn't want you to trip on your heels. And if you'd ever insist on carrying the books on your own, he'd keep a gentle hand on your upper back to keep you upright "in balance."

Once, whilst presenting a speech at your father's fundraising dinner that you'd stayed up all night preparing for, you accidentally lose track of your speech. You stumble on your words, voice cracking in panic as you start to scan the page of thick text, all of which suddenly seem jumbled up and nonsensical.

Sensing distress, Coriolanus' hand quickly moves under the table to squeeze your left hand (hanging by your side) in a reassuring manner.

It's only then, somehow, that you find yourself able to re-focus on the printed text and continue your speech. Afterwards, you squeeze his hand back and whisper your gratitude.

"I owe you, Coriolanus."

Another time, it's a formal ball being hosted by the academy to mark the holiday season. After a few drinks, you're tipsy and manage to drag your friends up towards the balcony, despite it snowing outside and being below zero degrees.

Cautiously watching your every movement by where he's leaning by the bar, Coriolanus quickly makes an excuse to exit the conversation he found himself trapped in, before walking outside towards your shivering figure.

Your dress certainly isn't helping your situation, it being a satin slip dress with sleeves and a conservative cut out by your shoulders. It exposes your chilled skin as you rub the naked space with your arms, your staggered breaths coming out in white puffs of smoke.

"Corio! What're you doing he-" you start to walk towards him but nearly trip, his arms coming to supporting your body last second to save you from falling completely on your face.

"You shouldn't be outside in this weather." he comments, amused, as he helps you find your balance once more. But you refuse to re-enter the ballroom, choosing to instead excitedly ramble about how wonderful winter in the Capitol is and how you can't remember where you've placed your bag.

Listening earnestly to your ramblings with a smile on his face, he quickly shakes off his blazer.

"May I?" he asks. You blink slowly, heart fluttering at the gesture.

"O-okay."

The boy then carefully drapes his blazer over your shoulders, the act immediately enveloping your senses in his signature smells - oakwood and rose. Your fingers clutch the lapels of the jacket, your nose burrowing in to the softness of the fabric.

"Are you sure you won't be cold?"

He's freezing, of course, but he keeps his posture straight and tuck his hands into his pockets.

"I'm just fine. Don't you worry about me."

-------------------------------

three: nicknames

Once you two become an item, Coriolanus moves on to calling you affectionate names.

Of course, he'll prefer to call you by your name in professional settings - like during a presentation, in front of the Academy staff, at formal galas and dinners - but when it's just the two of you, or around people you both trust, or when he's jealous -

He almost never calls you by your name.

Darling is the classic, lovestruck expression he uses when he's being his most vulnerable. It's what he whispers into the gap underneath your neck when he's waking you up in the morning, landing kisses across your collarbone during sunrise. It's his greeting when he surprises you with a bouquet of flowers on your birthday, right before he whisks you away to a trip to district 1. It's what he cries into your hairline when you are hospitalized following a rogue rebel explosion on your trip home.

"Darling... darling, can you hear me?"

Coriolanus' voice is foggy, your head still ringing from the loud explosion earlier, but your heart still races at the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand on yours. Throat croaking, you try to respond with an affirmative "yes", to which your boyfriend responds by quickly grabbing a near by cup of water.

Gently guiding the glass to your lips, he treats you as if you're a fragile porcelain doll: smoothing down your hair gently and fluffing up your pillows to lay you back down. It's only then that you get a good look at him under the flickering lights - the bags under his eyes look heavy, his usually neat hair a complete mess, his blue irises blood shot.

"Have you been sleeping, Corio?" you ask, worried, your thumb rubbing circles onto his palm. He chokes up at that, shaking his head sideways with a sad smile.

"How... how could you ask me that, darling? You've been in the hospital for days."

"I hope that doesn't mean you haven't been sleeping for days." you quip back, raising your eyebrows. Your boyfriend opens his mouth to lie, but the twitch of his lips gives him away. So you instead shift towards the left of your bed, making space for him on the mattress.

"Come on you silly man."

He smiles a guilty grin before snuggling up next to you, letting out a heavy sigh of content at your warm body against his.

Petal is his sweet, infatuated name for you when he's referring to you in conversation or calling out for you in front of friends and family. Tigris never fails to tease Coriolanus for the name, but he doesn't mind it - you're his flower, his precious petal.

"I can't believe you think this is ugly." Tigris sighs at the dinner table one night, shuffling through the myriad of designs on the desk. "This was going to be the design I send off to the boutique tomorrow."

"I didn't say it was ugly, I just think this design is far nicer." Coriolanus responds, pushing forward the blue design in front of him. His cousin pouts at that, clearly unsatisfied with his answer.

"Petal-" Coriolanus calls out for you, where you're cooking with grandma'am in the kitchen. "Could you come in for a moment?"

When your confused face pops into the room, Tigris quickly calls you over, dramatically stretching out her arms to grab you.

"Mr Snow seems to think this design - the gold sweetheart dress with lace trimmings - is uglier than this blue version. What do you think, (Y/n)?" she earnestly asks, pushing over the two designs to your direction. You shuffle through the papers intently, studying each drawing up close, before ultimately taking Tigris' side.

"I'd say your eye for design is impeccable, Tigris. And that Coriolanus should perhaps stick to things other than fashion."

That makes both grandma'am (who is listening in from the kitchen) and Tigris, burst out in laughter, with the latter throwing her arms around your waist in a sideways hug.

"Ah, I knew you were my favorite for a reason." she jokes.

"Petal, you wound me." your boyfriend jokes, a small scowl on his face for show. Though, when you lean down to kiss him, the scowl easily melts away.

My doll is what he calls you when he's driven sick by jealousy and possession. As, much to Coriolanus' distate, you have many admirers - due to you coming from a wealthy family and being a well known socialite in your own right.

Coriolanus has never liked Felix Ravinstill, but he swears his hatred for the president's son only tripled after you and Coriolanus became an item. Felix was never shy about his attraction to you - the forward compliments, the invitations to his house after school, the rush to sit next to you during lunch periods. But now, the blonde thinks, it's getting full on desperate.

As you sit reading a book in the hallways of tha academy, waiting for Coriolanus to finish his talk with Dr Gaul, the dark haired boy decides to chat with you. When your boyfriend opens the door discreetly, upon hearing your voice mingle with someone else's outside, his vision nearly turns red at how close the other man is to you.

You're pointing out something in your book to Felix, your innocent eyes fixated purely on the black and white text and thus completely missing how shamelessly the man next to you is eyeing you up and down. It takes Dr Gaul's shout - "actually, Ms (Y/n), could we have a word regarding your last proposal" - for Coriolanus' rage to slowly fade.

Instead, he starts to feel cold, hardened logic putting a plan into motion.

And once you're inside the classroom, Coriolanus doesn't hesitate to slam Felix up against the wall, making sure to angle the boy's head to hit directly against a marble statute. The impact isn't hard enough to crack the man's skull, the last minute measurement in Coriolanus' head ensuring that he wouldn't be punished for injuring the president's son.

But he makes sure that the impact hurts enough to leave a mark.

It makes Coriolanus' heart twist in pleasure.

"You better leave my doll alone, Ravinstill. She's not interested in you. She's never been interested in you." he spits, snarling like a ravenous dog.

"You're delusional, Snow, if you think she'd ever want to stay with you." Felix manages to spit out, trying to wiggle his way out of the taller man's hold, but Coriolanus is too strong.

"You're the only delusional one here. It's pathetic, really. All that money and social connections in the world, and it'll never be good enough for my doll."

Coriolanus can tell that hit a nerve with Felix, so he lets go of the shorter boy, nearly throwing him away to the side in the process. Pride and ego surges through his veins when you appear and call out for Coriolanus, so the blonde makes a concerted effort to kiss you fiercely for show.

His arm snaking around your shoulder to pull you right up against him, a devious smile on his lips.

-----------------------

four: lavish gifts and deep marks

Things only escalate once Coriolanus' tribute ends up winning the hunger games and he's crowned the winner of the Plinth Prize. Now saddled with money, reputation and a full ride scholarship to the university funneled by the Plinth family - he finally finds himself able to spoil you in all the ways possible.

Fresh flowers adorn your windowsill every morning. The finest jewellery and newest luxury bags are delivered to your doorstep at random. Perhaps most impressive of all, he buys a two bedroom apartment near the center of the Capitol for you two to move into.

"How'd you..." you can't even finish your sentence when you first see the place: the prime location, the high arched ceilings, the stainless marble... He hadn't even allowed you to pitch in any of your own - or your family's - money to buy the place, insisting that it was to be a complete surprise.

His arms come around your shoulder to hug you close, swaying you from side to side.

"Generosity of the Plinth family and the spoils of being the victor, darling." he drawls in your ear.

You're still in awe, hands tracing the intricate patterns of the roman columns supporting the ceiling, when he starts to tug you up the stairs.

"Would you like to see the view from our bedroom? It's magnificent."

Of course, Coriolanus' new elevated status and recent memory of acting as a mentor in the hunger games - planning, guiding, and having a role in the extended play of human lives - it all makes him quite obsessive and possessive of you. Given that you're one of the few people in his life who has known him for years now, before he was a mentor and before had all this money and status...

He has to make sure to keep you in his life. He's made a lot of enemies, after all, many of whom would like to harm him. And with his undying love for you, hurting you becomes an attractive option for his enemies.

So Coriolanus gets more possessive by becoming more shameless in public. He'll gladly call you his love in front of crowds of hundreds. He'll kiss you breathless and squeeze your lower back if he thinks a man is staring a bit too long at you. And when he knows you two will be separated for a few days - usually due to him having to travel out of the Capitol on business matters - he'll leave bite marks on your neck.

You didn't even think about how noticeable the marks might be when you rush out of bed one morning, having promised to attend an engagement dinner of a fellow classmate, Clemensia's. Your rude awakening comes when, mid-way through the rehearsal, Sejanus leans over to quietly ask if you've brought your foundation with you.

You scrunch your face at the odd question.

"Uh, yes... I have a powder compact in my bag, why?"

Your friend smiles at you apologetically, before motioning to your neck.

"Because, (Y/n), it looks like a vampire has bit you."

And when you look at your reflection in your wine glass, it's clear that you have odd, dark, bite shaped marks littering your collarbone and neck.

Later in the week, when Coriolanus has finally returned from his business trip, you try and scold him for it.

"I nearly died of shame, Corio. Seriously, you should've seen how Arachne was looking at me the whole night." you sigh, just as he laughs.

"You're over thinking it, darling. Besides, you weren't complaining when I was leaving those marks on you on Tuesday."

You open his mouth to scold him again, but find yourself unable to mutter a smart response, your thoughts flying away when he's back to attacking your skin with his mouth.

After all, you're like a drug to him - he can never get enough.

---------------------------------------

five: killing for you

Once Coriolanus is sure that you're not going to leave him, he finds it appropriate to take it to the next level: marriage. He drops a few thousand dollars on a large diamond ring, a ring which he makes sure you never take off (except in the shower).

At this point, the thought of losing you nearly equals his fears of losing everything he's built so far: becoming wealthy, powerful and well known amongst the Capitol's elite. He's terrified of living in a world without you and so he considers anyone who is deemed a threat must be dealt with in a secure, efficient manner.

No mercy, no hesitation.

After all, Coriolanus thinks one night, whilst sharpening a spare knife in the kitchen: if you give a rebel an inch, they'll run a mile.

The first person he kills is a security guard who fails to do their job correctly in protecting you.

He'd been hired by Coriolanus to protect you in your daily transport from the mansion to anywhere outside the Capitol (most often, to districts 1-3 to support your family's business dealings). But the bodyguard had failed to protect you one fateful winter day, leaving you to stumble back home with a twisted ankle and a busted lip as your bodyguard was only able to neutralize the threat after a few minutes of tussling with the gang's leader in the snow.

Your fiancee was fuming, sending you off to a near by hospital with grandma'am, before he motioned for your bodyguard to come downstairs to the empty garden.

The blonde didn't even feel an ounce of sorrow as he pulled the trigger, simply ordering the next bodyguard he'd hired to do the messy job of disposing of the body.

The second person he kills is a rebel who attempted to sneak a bomb underneath the car transporting you to the Capitol, following Coriolanus' announcement as candidate for the presidency.

The rebel was apprehended by the security detail team pretty quickly, so fast in fact that you weren't even made aware of the threat on your life. All you're told that day by Coriolanus' subordinates is that "there had been a change of plans" and you were to go to a fundraising dinner at an art museum instead to raise funds for the campaign.

And whilst you're off at the dinner, making a passionate speech for his presidency, Coriolanus makes an order for the rebel to be dragged out into the fields.

"You dare threaten the love of my life?" he sneers into the rebel's face, which is already bloodied and broken beyond recognition. The animalistic rage pumping through Coriolanus' veins is unlike anything he's ever felt before, and the gun in his hands suddenly feels like too much of a merciful ending for the rebel's crime.

"Just kill me." the rebel spits, but that only makes Coriolanus let out a sinister chuckle.

"Don't worry, I will. But I think a gun shot will be far too quick."

Instead, Coriolanus orders the man to be placed into a cage - a prototype that was being designed as a trap for the next year's games - and for a tub of venomous snakes to be released.

Whilst the other workers in his campaign look away from the horrific sight, Coriolanus just stares in great interest and pride. Once the screaming dies down, he calmly disposes of his bloodied shirt and hails a ride to greet you at the museum entrance.

"All good?" you ask, noticing an odd expression on your lover's face. But he just kisses you lightly on the lips, chuckling.

"Of course, petal. Why wouldn't it be?"

And so on and so forth. Whether it's directly or indirectly, Coriolanus becomes ruthless in securing your safety and your love. And he's so good at hiding it, he thinks, until one day he becomes a bit sloppy.

It was supposed to be an easygoing dinner at the mansion, a wealthy donor - his top donor, his campaign manager had informed him - named Robert Hemingworth had requested a private dinner. Coriolanus intially wanted to refuse, hating the thought of inviting a stranger to his home, but both you and his campaign manager agreed that it was best to play nice given the money at stake.

"For your troubles." Robert had said on his way in, a snarky smirk on his lips. In his arms were a basket of wines and grapes worth a pretty penny, but Coriolanus couldn't help but think that there was something about the brunette's gaze that he didn't trust. But with pursed lips and a fake smile, he forced out a thank you and invited the man into the foyer.

"What a... charming little abode." the oil tycoon had drawled, his gloved hands tracing along the walls. The sly comments and odd compliments (in truth, backhanded compliments) continued through out the night, all the way from appetizer to the main course. Sipping on copious bottles of red wine in an effort to keep himself grounded, Coriolanus was managing to keep his temper down until the older man asked about your whereabouts.

"Will your charming fiancee not be joining us?"

He froze at the man's questions, the hungry look in the millionaire's eyes and the underlying threat weighing down the atmosphere. The desserts had now arrived, two maids scurrying in with small plates of bread pudding, both of whom Coriolanus quickly dismissed with a wave of his hand.

"She's out with Tigris. Dress shopping." he'd decided to leave it at that, his left hand squeezing his glass so tight the glass started to crack. Coriolanus had hoped the man would leave the discussion there, as he wasn't sure what he was capable of doing if the older man didn't.

But the man continued. A disgusting moan escaping his lips in satisfaction after biting into the pudding, a devious smirk on his lips to match.

"Ah. Well, what a shame. I was hoping she would be part of the dessert."

No sooner than those words leave the millionaire's mouth, Coriolanus' left hand grabbed the knife laying on the board in front of him, where moments ago the maids were cutting cheese and ham. He then brings the blade to swiftly meet the older man's stomach, white dress shirt staining crimson red, all the while Coriolanus refuses to break the man's gaze.

"You fucking disgust me. Everyone in the Capitol fucking disgusts me one way or another, but you? You dare invite yourself to my home?" he retracts the knife, before stabbing it back into the suited man's flesh, each pause accentuated by another driving force.

"You dare speak about my love in such a vulgar manner?"

"You dare insinuate such sinful acts with my beloved?"

"You dare try and buy your way into her body?"

The marble floors are now flooded in a sea of red, the man's dying chokes and Coriolanus' heavy breaths overwhelming the room. The room stings of the smell of copper when you enter the space, quietly closing the door behind you, as you were only able to see the man on the floor and your boyfriend standing on top of him from the entrance.

"Corio? Love?"

The blonde turns around at the sound of your voice, face etched with annoyance.

Annoyed that you'd have to be subject to a vulgar sight like this. Annoyed that he'd stained your new kitchen set with an unworthy man's blood... And most of all, annoyed that he can't tell what you're thinking: your face kept completely neutral as you slowly approach him.

"You're back early." is all he decides to say, testing the waters.

You look down at his hands, soaked in hot blood, then down at the man who is writhing on the floor.

"Found what we wanted quickly, I suppose." you reply, stopping next to Coirolanus before leaning down to get a better look at the dying man. "Right, what was his deal?"

"Hm?"

It's only then that your plain expression breaks, your usually light eyes swimming with sinister charm, a coy smile breaking out on your face.

"Come on, Corio. You don't seriously think I didn't notice the amount of odd stains on your cufflinks? Or the terrified looks the house servants give you since the beginning of our engagement?"

He blinks, surprised. Coriolanus had always assumed he was covering his tracks well. Or that, at the very least, you'd have something to say about it all.

"He was making rather vulgar comments about you, darling. The bastard seems to have been making donations in an effort to get closer to you." he slowly explains as you stand back up, nodding slowly.

"Hm... Yes, that is rather concerning. And I suppose you've gone too far ahead for us to save him, always the temperamental lover you are." you tease.

Your humorous response and your unwillingness to run away from the darkness of the situation, it awakens something fierce in Coriolanus that he hasn't felt for you before.

"I suppose."

The euphoria he feels when your delicate fingers lace his to grab the knife instead, before you finally drive the blade down and end the man's life, is indescribable.

"I think you owe me a new dress." you say quietly, dropping the knife onto the floor.

The blonde wastes no time gathering you up in his arms, kissing you so fiercely that it almost hurts your neck.

"I think I owe you more than that, darling. How about the entirety of Panem?"

He'd do anything for you. The entirety of Panem be damned.

a/n: omg this has got to be the darkest piece of writing + fucked up ending I've ever written in like years of writing on tumblr 😅😭 but idk I'm obsessed with an idea of Corio's partner being someone who embraces him wholeheartedly and surprises him by being darker than she seems on the surface.

please leave a like/comment/reblog/ask if you've enjoyed, your support is what motivates me to write!

ALSO I've just re-opened my requests bc I would love to receive some corio fic ideas, so please send in your corio thoughts if you have any 🥺🥺🥺

[lavenderchqn]

"MULTIPLICATION LENS"

synopsis — you have been stealing pantalone's glasses for a while now... so what happens when the lovely 9th harbinger is down to his last pair? pairing — pantalone x gn!reader warnings — implied murder, slightly suggestive at the end, possible wrong use of Dottore's actual name, overall chaos :D notes — this oneshot was inspired by a headcanon by @teabutmakeitazure on tumblr, as well as some of the comments under her post!

At first… It happened out of love. 

With Pantalone’s tendency to slave away at his desk, doing his work outside his working hours… You once found out that stealing his glasses was the only way to get him some rest. 

It worked amazingly… at first. 

His first attempt at stopping your antics was to have his glasses connected by a chain. Well, it worked great… until you found a workaround for it. 

Your solution was to stand directly behind him, sweet-talking him to have him lose focus… and when the moment came, you’d simply get the glasses with the chain attached and make a run for it. 

To be frank, Pantalone could easily reclaim his property. It was not only due to his office carrying more than enough pairs to not get concerned with one going missing, but also keeping you entertained. 

After all, if your spouse had to resort to stealing your tool for eyesight, there must’ve been a lack of affection on your part. Therefore, he simply did not pay as much attention to whatever you decided to do with his glasses from that point onwards. 

One by one, your racoon self managed to empty his once full drawer.

And yet, at some point, things managed to get even more chaotic. 

Pantalone was now left to his last pair of glasses — beautiful chain intact. 

It’s been months since you began to steal his glasses… and yet no matter what he did, he never managed to retrieve a single pair. Even though he would never suggest that you get involved with the Fatui, your skills have proven more efficient than most agents working under him. 

Thus, he forged a plan. 

From a singular glance, it was obvious that the last pair in his cabinet would be the most prized ones. Truly a trophy for your ever-rising collection. Gaining it would prove that your skills triumphed even over the 9th harbinger. 

Why not play a game of cat and mouse for it then? 

In all the years of you being married, Pantalone had learned your routine to perfection. 

You had the tendency to check on him at 6 PM every single day, aside from weekends. Saturday and Sunday were his strict no-work days, given that everyone — even workaholics of his calibre — should take breaks occasionally. 

There were days when you’d bring a cup of tea for him to enjoy, courtesy of many maids working at the estate. Other times you’d just come and spend some time to talk about your day, taking a seat on your dedicated armchair in his office. 

For those, where exhaustion made him fall asleep at his desk, you’d storm in with a blanket covering his body, usually staying long enough where he’d wake up from his nap. That would signify the end of said day’s work, the two of you spending the rest of it relaxing. 

Just… how did you know exactly what he was doing each day?

6 PM of today came around shortly, you didn't show up even once to check beforehand. 

His plan of motion was now finally being put into place. 

A soft knock on his door caught his attention, beginning his act of “napping”. Perhaps this was your means of figuring out what to do next. Rationally speaking, getting him a blanket after not showing signs of awareness would be obvious given the silence. 

Once you waited long enough, he could hear the sound of you walking away, most likely to get ahold of a comforter. 

You came back soon enough, opening the door slowly — to not startle him awake. 

“Let’s see…” You whispered to yourself, settling something behind his back before peering over his shoulder. “Zandik’s trying to get funding again? Man, he sure never stops.” 

Well, that was most certainly odd. No one used actual names to address other harbingers, let alone Dottore. 

Pantalone had to keep his composure, though… acting as if you’re sleeping was way more difficult than it seemed to be initially. 

Even if you caught his unnatural behaviour, you didn’t mention it — slowly tucking his hair behind his ear. How interesting. 

Pantalone thought you’d take the first possible chance to steal his glasses. Yet, here you were, organising his pens, sorting papers that fell to the floor… Acting like a dainty and adorable darling.  

Well, you did make your attempt soon enough. 

You’ve managed to sweep some dust, group papers based on importance and slowly yet swiftly, akin to a fox, you’ve made a move for his glasses. 

Hell, you would’ve even gotten away with it, if not for Pantalone’s equally fast reaction time. His hand locked around your wrist holding his frame, keeping it in a vice. 

“And what do we have here, Darling?” His coy voice putting a smug grin on your face.

“A loving and caring spouse, dearest Husband.” Despite your movement, you’ve managed to keep up the cheerful and loveable attitude. “Sleeping in glasses gives you headaches.” 

That was most absolutely correct… There were countless days and nights when you had to comfort your husband stuck in the misery of migraines. 

It’s been barely a minute of you stuck in this weird position. Your wrist starting to hurt a lot in the last few seconds, probably due to Pantalone’s nails digging into the skin.

“Could you unhand me?” You ask, gracing him with puppy-like eyes. “It’s starting to hurt.” 

Your husband lets go of you instantly, flashing a worried look and a whispered apology. Playing around was enjoyable at times, but causing you any pain — be it physical or emotional — was an enormous boundary of his. 

Unfortunately for Pantalone, you’re more than a simple spouse. With one last swift move, you grab his frames and make a run of it. 

Your master plan’s completion sets the estate into chaos. Well, it’s a simple commotion between two married people, yet maids can’t turn their eyes away from the situation they're witnessing.

A daring [Y/N] running away from her dear husband, his glasses in hand. To his credit, Pantalone is managing to keep up with your surprising speed. And Pierro has him reduced to a simple act of a Regrator? 

You have been doing your best to gain some speed advantage, just to get to your trophy cabinet as soon as possible… Why can’t Pantalone just give up and let you boast about your accomplishment...  

With how long of a game of cat and mouse this has been, you’re quickly losing steam. There is one last light of hope soon making itself known. 

The door to your study. 

You pull on the doorknob as precisely as possible, opening the door. Unfortunately for you, Pantalone managed to keep up and is just a step behind you.

 It seems playtime has now come to an end. 

“Darling, my glasses.” Based on his voice, he’s not even remotely tired after the chase that just happened. Well, neither are you, but the point still stands! 

“I have won them fair and square.” You go into the room, standing in front of a locked cabinet. 

Pantalone is beside you, his body language signalising he’s not as excited as you are. At the same time, he’s not trying to get his frames back by force… Maybe he now realises that there’s simply no use. 

“Beloved,” You open the cabinet. “Behold my collection.” 

There they are… all the other pairs that you had successfully stolen. Displayed alongside a tiny description, listing the date of the robbery. 

Pantalone sighs, extending his hand to ask again for his frames.

“I will give you them ‘back’ shortly,” He says, noticing your hesitance. “At least allow me to marvel at your accomplishment without having to squint.” 

There’s no harm in doing that, you think. Well, you close and lock the study’s door… just as an additional measure. 

With his glasses back on it’s rightful and yet wrong at the same time, place Pantalone is allowed to take in your past deeds. A collection spanning dates from almost a year, every pair presented with magnificence and beauty. 

However, just as Pantalone is about to comment, he notices something reflecting on one of the bottom shelves. 

“Treasure, what’s kept in that drawer?” He points to a drawer, unrecognisable at first glance. Made with tempered glass, there’s difficulty in trying to gauge its content.

You get visibly nervous at the sole thought of showing Pantalone your other… collection.

“Surely it cannot be that bad, Darling.” 

“Oh, you might divorce me once you see it…” 

“I’d rather work full-time with Tartaglia than divorce you, Love.” 

Filled with newfound confidence, you get the drawer open. Then follows the second and third one.

They’re filled to the brim with… Fatui insignias.

At a simple glance, there must be more than a thousand… from recruits to lieutenants, you have them all. 

Pantalone stares at them in utmost shock. Just, how did you manage to get your hands on so many? 

“Care… to elaborate, Darling?”

“Oh, I was just bored.” Your husband is floored at your answer. 

“This is not the time and place for jokes, Love.” 

“I mean, I was bored for like… two years straight?” 

Pantalone blinked, struggling to comprehend the magnitude of your confession. Two years? He couldn't fathom how, in his meticulously guarded world, you had managed such an astonishing feat without him noticing.

“Bored?” His voice, usually so composed, held an edge of incredulity. “Two years of boredom led to... this?” He gestured to the overflowing drawers of Fatui insignias, his expression a mix of awe and disbelief.

You shrugged, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Well, you were always busy with work, and I had to find something to keep myself entertained. It started as a little game—seeing how far I could go before anyone noticed. And then, it became a sort of... hobby.”

“A hobby,” Pantalone repeats, shaking his head as he examines one of the insignias more closely. “Do you realise how dangerous this could have been? How many agents must have been in a frenzy trying to find these?

“Well, they are probably not in the health… to look for them,” you reply with a wink, clearly unbothered by the potential ramifications. “Besides, not a singular harbinger has noticed. I made sure of it.”

He sighs, rubbing his temples as if trying to ease an impending headache. “You truly are something else, Darling. How many agents have you gotten killed?—and for what? A collection?”

“A very impressive collection,” you correct him, your grin widening. “And one that took a lot of effort and skill to amass, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh yeah, and the numbers are somewhere in the tens of thousands.”

Pantalone sighs, deciding not to pry any further. It’s for the best not to know the details of your spouse going on… murder sprees… on your employees.

With a slow move, he takes off his glasses, moving them into your palms. It’s followed by a slow dip, just so that he can be as close to you as possible. 

“Well then, Darling.” He whispers into your ear. “As the victor of our little game, how about I congratulate you in ways other than words.” 

date of posting — august 15th 2024

[writerpeach]

Never Safe For Work

Dreamcatcher Gahyeon x m!reader

word count: 14k

The long-awaited return to the Dreamcatcher Office series

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

Universally, it went without saying that nobody in their right mind liked Mondays, for obvious reasons. But Tuesdays? Those were the real fucker. 

The beginning of the work week always started the same way. Monday mornings were nothing but meetings, meetings, and more meetings. So that meant Tuesdays were not just four days left to endure, but time spent dealing with the aftermath from those endless hours of time spent discussing problems, budgets, and other mundane matters—time that could have easily been spent working on more crucial responsibilities.

Each hour passed felt longer than the previous one. Every minute dragged on as if it would never end. 

Early morning hours were the most troublesome part of the day to get through, weighed down by never-ending tasks daunting for an entire team, let alone one person. Not that the rest of the week’s schedule wouldn’t be any better, always filled, with the following day more hectic than the last one.

While the weekend seemed so out of reach, somehow you mustered up the energy to tackle your responsibilities, but even the simplest task felt difficult to do before your regularly scheduled trip to the vending machine and a refill of coffee. Equipped with a hot mug, alongside your second headache of the day, you sorted through dozens of emails about new projects from your bosses, other clients, and business partners. And just when you finished one task, another would be assigned to you, another plate to spin, another fire to put out.

Despite how early it was, you needed a break—caffeine wasn’t doing its job properly, so maybe you needed an extra dose, a shot of espresso from the fancy machine in the break room that you never touched for fear of breaking it. But before you could even get out of your chair, before you could stretch your arms, a loud knock at the door interrupted your countless thoughts. 

Great. 

Almost nothing good came from a knock at the door before noon. Usually, your superiors would call your office when they needed something, but when they needed to show up in person—that was when you were doomed. So, with dreadful anticipation as to which boss would further ruin your day, you waited for the door to open, half expecting flames to appear on the other side. 

But when the door creaked open and the figure standing in the doorway did not sport a pair of devil horns, you let out an enormous sigh of relief that it was only your assistant, Gahyeon. It wasn’t that she didn’t cause problems of her own, yet at least she wasn’t here to chastise you about an impending deadline or shove a brand new project to your already massive pile of work.

"Good morning, boss,” Gahyeon said as she stood in the doorway with her arms crossed, her mouth twisted into a less than genuine smile. 

“You look pretty busy.” Nothing she could have said would be more obvious other than calling water wet. With a heavy sigh, you glared at her and tried to keep your annoyance in check. Given the evident stack of documents on your desk, you couldn’t afford to waste any time today. 

"You’re late, Gahyeon. Once again. It’s half past ten, and you were supposed to be here over an hour ago.”

Upon entering the office, Gahyeon shrugged without a care in the world, but at least had the courtesy to shut the door so you could reprimand her in private. “But I’m here now, aren’t I?” 

That annoying smirk on her face made it even worse. You wouldn’t have been so annoyed with her if she hadn’t done this during one of the busiest weeks of the year. Nearly three months had gone by since you promoted Gahyeon to fulltime and made her your personal assistant. Essentially, it was the same job but with increased responsibilities and higher expectations, but you were beginning to regret it when she fell back on old habits. 

“Well, I’ve done all the heavy lifting already since you couldn’t bother to show up when I actually needed you. There’s not much left to do right now. Go get some coffee or something.” 

“But I don’t like coffee…” Gahyeon pouted, always finding an excuse to fight back against even the smallest command. 

With the last of your worn patience razor-thin, you resisted the urge to snap at her while rolling your eyes practically out of your head. There was little you wanted to deal with right now, but if she was here, then you’d find some purpose for her. "Then go get something else to drink, Gahyeon. Just be back here within five minutes."

As Gahyeon left the room, you took a deep breath and rubbed your temple. Having such an unreliable assistant just added more stress, especially when she often had to be micromanaged at every moment. Your one hope would be that Gahyeon took her new position more seriously and became a valuable asset to the team, rather than a hindrance. The last thing you needed was someone to babysit. 

Trying to put a dent in your many, many emails, Gahyeon returned with a bottle of fruit juice in hand, plopped down in a chair in front of your desk and took a sip, an unnerving smile etched on her smug features. She wiped her mouth, leaving a lipstick stain on the bottle as she placed it on your desk. 

"You look like you could use a break, boss," she said in her usual cocky tone. Again—nothing had been more obvious. 

“I could always use a break,” you replied, raising an eyebrow while you looked up from your monitor. “But that’s not a luxury we have. There’s a lot of work to be done, and not enough time to do it.” 

Growing more frustrated, you looked back at your monitor, then back at Gahyeon, who hadn't moved aside from continuing to sip her fruit juice. You took a good look at her—with everything going on, her outfit hadn’t caught your attention until now. When Gahyeon was an intern, you would typically ignore it as long as her attire didn't deviate too far from the office dress code, but now that she held a place on your team, there was an expectation to dress more professional. However, every day she showed up she seemed to wear something that the higher-ups would consider wildly inappropriate. 

“Gahyeon, what have I told you about your work attire?” 

“What’s wrong with it?” Gahyeon looked down at her outfit, puzzled as if she wasn’t wearing anything out of the ordinary. Which, if it were up to you, would be fine—but even if you didn’t make the rules, it was your responsibility to make sure that everyone who worked underneath you followed them. 

“Do I really need to answer that? A skull tie, ripped stockings, and those boots? This is a professional environment, Gahyeon,” you said, letting your frustrations all out. “And you’re expected to dress as such. You’re not that clueless intern anymore, you’ve moved up. You represent this company now, so when I ask tasks to be run and our clients show up and see you like that—”

“But I like the way it looks…I like being comfortable.” 

Like always, Gahyeon missed the point, and you could feel the throbbing ache in your temple again. 

“Gahyeon, do you think I like wearing these stuffy collared shirts? Or these boring, constricting ties? No, I hate them, but I deal with it.” 

Before continuing, you let out a deep breath. “I don’t ask for much. Just that you show up on time and wear work-appropriate clothing. Yet you’ve failed to do both today. When I decided to hire you, it was because you promised me that you would take this position seriously, but if you won’t—then I can easily find somebody else who will.”

“Okay, okay. Calm down, boss. Tomorrow, I’ll wear one of your ugly little ties. And high heels. I promise.” 

“Just be professional.” 

“Aren’t I always? I’ll wear my best outfit. You won’t even recognize me.” 

Gahyeon wasn't the same intern she was a year before, despite her sometimes acting like it. You had a feeling she would come around eventually, she just needed a little push in the right direction. 

“So…is there anything I can help with, boss?” Gahyeon asked, even if it was a bit too little too late. 

After a long pause, she leaned against your office desk, looking around at cluttered reports, financial documents, endless proposals, and worst of all—an entirely too empty coffee mug. Out of frustration, you laughed—because what didn't you need help with? 

“Everything,” you said, slumping back in your chair. “I need to finish looking over these reports so I can have them sent to Minji. I’ve got weeks of expenses that need to be tallied up so Siyeon can reimburse me. There’s a video meeting with our new business partner in an hour and I haven’t even begun to prepare for it yet. And on top of that, every time I take a sip of coffee, my inbox keeps filling up. I just—” 

Letting out a sigh of defeat, your voice sounded more and more strained. To make matters worse, Gahyeon hopped atop your desk, interrupting any chance to finish more work. She crossed her legs before reaching forward and placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently. 

“Boss, you’re stressed. And your muscles are so tense. It sounds like you need a massage. Do you want me to give you one?” 

“That’s not what I need, Gahyeon. I just need you to help me look over these reports.”

“But that’s so boring,” she whined, pouting those sultry lips in disappointment. Having little energy left to endure her presence, you could feel your headache coming back. 

“That’s why it’s called work, we’re not at a theme park. You asked what I needed help with, so this is what I need help with. Maybe after we finish, then you can give me a massage.” 

Gahyeon wasn't pleased with your response, as evidenced by the look in her eyes. Refusing to sit idly, she lifted herself up off your desk and slid onto your lap before you could say another word, swinging her legs over to one side, so the weight of her generous butt rested on your thigh. But she couldn’t help but fiddle with your tie, flashing a flirtatious glance in your direction.

“You smell good, boss. New cologne?” Gahyeon asked, leaning in much closer until her face became mere inches from yours, with her seductive lips dangerously close. It became impossible to avoid her gaze, and you were inclined to lift her petite frame anchored on your lap. However, it didn't really matter because fighting Gahyeon's charm was a hopeless battle.

“I don’t wear cologne. But you need to get off me, you’re being a distraction.” 

Gahyeon didn’t care—rarely did she ever, with the only goal to get whatever she wanted. “Take it easy boss, you’ll pop a blood vessel. A little break won’t hurt, will it?” 

“If I had time for a break, I would take one.” Whenever Gahyeon lingered around, you only grew more and more frustrated with each passing second. 

“There’s always time for a break…” Gahyeon said, always refusing to make work a priority. “Maybe you should take a short one, boss? It’s not good for your health if you keep this up. Besides—isn’t this what you hired me for?” 

Your brow furrowed in irritation, before finally letting out another sigh. “No, I hired you because you showed what a good worker can be. Which I’m starting to believe was just a mistake, and I should let you be an intern forever.” 

Gahyeon chuckled, her demeanor unbothered. “But you like having me around. We both know you didn’t hire me just for my work skills…” 

She wasn’t exactly wrong. When Gahyeon wasn’t being a thorn in your side, you enjoyed her company, and if you had to admit, it was nice to have a pretty face show up to your office first thing in the morning—when she actually showed up. 

“Gahyeon, please get off me. Once I put a dent in this work then I’ll take a break. I promise.” But as expected, she didn’t budge, stubborn as ever, and kept playing with your tie. 

“But I think you should take a break now…” 

“Gahyeon—” 

“I get it, work comes first. But so should my boss,” she smirked, taking advantage of your compromised position. You had no response.

“So you wouldn’t want me to give you a nice, sloppy blowjob under your desk? I shouldn’t get on my knees for you and wrap these pretty little lips around your thick, delicious cock?” 

You swallowed hard. Gahyeon knew how to make you crumble, no matter how tough you tried to hide your weaknesses. She knew better than anyone what exact words to say and when to provoke you. If only she put as much effort into seducing you as she did in putting off her obligations. 

But your lack of any protest was the closest thing to an answer as she loosened up your tie and positioned herself into a proper mount on your lap. “I wanna make you cum, boss.” 

Her words sent an electrifying tingle up your spine. “I wanna make you cum in my mouth, so I can swallow it all. So you can watch me swallow your huge load. Come on, boss. I’m dying to suck your dick.” 

When your assistant practically begged, it was hard not to cave in. Your heavy workload could wait, because you couldn’t avoid those tempting eyes any longer. And if anything—it would be the best way to silence that mouth. 

“Then get on your fucking knees, slut.” 

Gahyeon’s devilish lips couldn’t smile any wider. Quick to comply after you uttered her favorite word, a word she no longer pretended to protest against, she used those same lips to deliver a greedy, deliberate kiss, before wiping her lipstick from your mouth.

“Since when do you care about lipstick marks?” 

“I don’t, boss. I’d just rather see my lipstick at the end of your cock.” 

There it was again, that annoying sly grin as Gahyeon removed herself from your lap, and lowered to her knees. She then maneuvered into the space underneath your desk, nestled perfectly between your legs. 

“Anything for you, boss.” Not one to hesitate, Gahyeon unzipped your pants with an intense desire to please you, eager for what waited underneath when she felt up your crotch. Faster than your next heartbeat, she yanked your slacks down, letting them drop to the floor in a heap, and your boxers fell to your ankles moments after. 

Gahyeon might have been a lot of things: unmotivated, a complainer, habitually late, but if there was one thing she was an expert at, that would be taking your mind off work. So you watched while she grabbed your cock, and slapped it on her pretty face, all while maintaining that seductive smile that screamed I’ll do anything. 

But it had all fallen into place far too easily. “Are you sure you deserve to suck my cock?” 

Refraining from saying much more, Gahyeon frowned and answered with deft strokes as she pumped your cock with a tight grip. 

“I’ll convince you, boss.” 

Her eyes sparkled with determination, widening even more when she admired your shaft, before she teased it with her wet tongue and licked along your length. 

If you had to admit one weakness, it would be Gahyeon’s lips; so pouty and full, kissably soft and always ready to go down on you at a moment’s notice. When they made contact on your swollen cockhead and planted several wet kisses, there would be no holding back, you had fully given into temptation. 

But there would be no guilt about letting your assistant suck you off in your office for the umpteenth time, because as Gahyeon suggested—it was just part of the job. 

So without interruption, you let Gahyeon do what she did best. She continued kissing your cockhead and created a path of tender kisses all the way down to your base that warmed your shaft with her hot breath as she did so. “You’re so hard, boss…” 

Only Gahyeon could be blamed for that.

“Need to get this down my throat. I’m so hungry, I haven’t had breakfast yet,” Gahyeon murmured as she licked her lips, and gave your stiff cock a proper tongue bath, followed by bouts of kissing your cock that gave as much attention as she could. Ultimately, it was the look in her eyes that turned you on more so than the sloppy licks she gave your cock, but her unwavering eye contact and growing desperation while on her knees more than helped persuade you. 

“Then stop teasing me, Gahyeon,” you said, shooting her a look that demanded she comply. Surprisingly, she did just that—after one more long lick up your length, her sexy lips parted, and swallowed up the engorged head of your cock. From that moment, you melted into your office chair when Gahyeon sucked your tip, and her head bobbed in a hypnotic rhythm while her delicate hands caressed your bare thighs. 

“There you fucking go,,” you muttered, almost too loud for comfort as any tension in your body began to fade. Gahyeon wrapped those pretty lips around your cock and created a tight suction that instantly made you groan as she worked her magic. Using those perfect plump lips to suck on your swollen head, she only let go of your cock to flick against your leaking slit, then nudged down further to the base to take more of you in her warm mouth. 

“Mmm, you’re so delicious, boss. I’ve been waiting for this all morning,” she moaned, as she slapped your cock against her wet tongue. You knew her intentions went deeper than just your personal wellbeing, but you never should have fought back against this—and if anything, Gahyeon’s mouth on your cock should be part of your morning routine. 

That pretty mouth felt better the deeper it went, using all the tricks she had stored—spitting on your dick, hollowing her cheeks, and fondling your balls until your entire length ended up buried down her throat. 

“Fuck, Gahyeon—just like that.” With a deep groan, your gaze fixated on Gahyeon’s bobbing head, as you savored the intense wetness of her mouth, the softness of her lips, and the wonderful warmth of her throat. The messier she got, the more tension from your body dissipated, and soon you felt lighter than a cloud, as both the stiffness in your neck and shoulders subsided. 

Gahyeon, like she had candy in her mouth, sucked on each of your balls while she furiously stroked your cock. From there, her sloppy mouth swapped between your tender sack and your stiffened cock, giving equal attention until she doused each part of you with as much warm saliva as she could. 

In that instant, when your throbbing length filled her throat, her greedy lips remained balls deep, with her cute nose flush against your stomach. Lost in her piercing gaze, Gahyeon lips stayed latched onto your shaft, as she took hungry, fulfilling strokes, and had never looked so needy.

But you, on the other hand, needed more than just a wet mouth to satisfy your craving. “Open that shirt up, slut. Need to see those pretty tits.” 

Bobbing her head more frantically, Gahyeon kept her focus on swallowing your cock down her throat, but also loosened her tie up, and began unbuttoning her shirt. Multitasking was only a skill used when she needed it. Her nimble fingers practically ripped open her top, exposing her full, clothed breasts in the black bra underneath, with her skull tie nestled perfectly in between deep cleavage that stared back at you. 

“Fuck, there’s nothing more I love than sucking your cock,” Gahyeon said, filling up her throat with every long stroke, using her talented mouth with more fervor than she ever did before. 

“Doesn’t that feel good? I love hearing you moan, boss. My pretty lips must feel so good on your huge, throbbing cock, right?” 

Another set of painfully obvious questions that you shouldn’t have bothered to answer. “Yeah, Gahyeon. You’re being such a good little cockslut. Fuck, your mouth feels so fucking—

It was hard to finish your sentence when you had your assistant slobbering on your dick, lips hard at work, desperate to prove her worth. 

"Then why aren’t you fucking my throat?" Gahyeon asked, hands gripping your thighs to further add encouragement. You had to ask yourself the same question—but there was no need for an answer, especially after you immediately grabbed both sides of her head, with your fingers tangled up in her pretty locks. 

Fortunately for Gahyeon, it wasn't in your nature to be gentle with her, and she would never want you to be. After staring at her mesmerizing eyes, you shoved her head down your length, thrusting into her mouth until you bottomed out her throat in one fluid stroke, forcing out a gag on the first try. 

Holding her head down, you pumped vigorously into that tight mouth, and Gahyeon gagged once more as the bottom of your length became saturated with lipstick and saliva. Now that the last bits of control were taken away, Gahyeon let out sultry sounds of being unable to manage your length, regardless how many times she had been in this exact position.

“Sorry, boss. You’re just so big for my slutty little mouth.” Gahyeon got off on this part the most, and nothing made her happier than having her throat stuffed to the hilt, being choked with cock as you shoved it down until she couldn’t even breathe. 

More than the thick flesh that gagged her, Gahyeon loved the helplessness that came with being throatfucked, the way her mouth filled with drool, and how it took mere seconds until her once pretty face became an absolute mess with just a handful of harsh thrusts. On your end, you loved ruining Gahyeon’s makeup, as well as making her luscious lips glisten with saliva, because when she walked out of your office with mascara and tears dripping down her cheeks—you knew she had no way to hide the events that had just transpired. 

Yet, for all the many times you gave Gahyeon the rough throatfucking she so desperately begged for, she should have grown accustomed to the harsh way you used her pretty mouth. But you couldn’t say you didn’t love to see her struggle, audibly gag, and drool when your length continuously shoved down her throat. 

After all, whenever Gahyeon was on her knees, she had little trouble submitting to you. In fact, she preferred this, to be treated like nothing but your own personal toy, to use whenever at your own convenience. Without any complaints, Gahyeon continued gagging on your cock, as you continued thrusting your hips into her face, urged by the look on her face. 

“Such a good fucking slut, taking me so well. My pretty little assistant really likes being facefucked, don’t you? And gagging on your boss’s dick?” With her cock-filled throat gurgling on your shaft, slurping and leaking saliva down the corners of her lips as she tried to choke it down, Gahyeon couldn’t exactly give a response. But you could see it in those needy, lust-filled eyes, how much she took pleasure in her throat being fucked without mercy, without consideration for how well she could breathe. 

Only once did you grant Gahyeon a brief respite that left her gasping for air. Unconcerned for anything but your taste, she latched her wet lips onto your balls, and suckled them with a greedy hunger you hadn’t seen before, tasting her own spilled saliva. “I really love choking on your dick, boss. You make me so wet when you force my head down, when you make my eyes water, when I can feel every last inch of this beautiful dick throbbing down my throat…” 

From then, it only got rougher, even messier when Gahyeon sputtered out saliva against your shaft, gagging on your length over and over as she struggled to breathe properly. Regardless of how rough things got, she would always choose the hard flesh jammed down her throat over oxygen, and nothing could deter the lewd expressions she made, nor could it deter your vigorous skullfucking. 

More and more you craved your addiction—the sounds of Gahyeon struggling, the tears in her pleading eyes, the streaks of mascara that beautifully ran down her face, and the harsh tugs of her hair you made when you hit the back of her throat. Equally, Gahyeon craved the way her lips were forced down at the bottom of your base, her mouth wide open and her jaw stretched out. Most of all, you were addicted to the intense feeling of ramming your cock down Gahyeon’s throat, because there wasn’t anything better than the messy sounds from a good throatfuck. 

Gahyeon fulfilled her role well, even if she did little but stay on her knees and offer up her wet throat, dedicated to your pleasure. 

"Fuck, this throat feels so damn good,” you groaned, as the endless echoing noises her messy little mouth made compelled you to be even rougher, causing the final traces of self-control collapsed. “You sound so good choking on this dick. My little slut likes being your boss’s personal fucktoy, don’t you?” 

The way that Gahyeon looked up drove you wild as she answered with her eyes, not only just enduring, but savoring the merciless treatment of her throat, yet getting off more by your degrading words than any actions. 

Just as you felt yourself going insane with bliss and drew closer and closer to that sweet nirvana—there came a knock at a door that interrupted your fun. 

Shit. 

Mild panic kicked in—you couldn’t think straight. You wouldn't have any cause for concern if Yoohyeon or Bora came through that door, they’d even take a seat to enjoy the show and spur you on. But you had to be ready for anyone else who wouldn’t turn a blind eye, regardless if the entire office floor knew you railed your assistant more often than a fresh cup of coffee brewed. 

After you involuntarily released the tight grip you held on either side of Gahyeon’s head, you tried to collect yourself and ran through dozens of scenarios in your head in preparation for whatever possibility would materialize. 

“Don’t fucking move, Gahyeon. Don’t make a fucking sound, just keep my cock warm in your throat, okay?”

Moving back beneath your desk as a quick sign of acknowledgment, Gahyeon tried her best to stay out of sight, and for the time being, kept your cock in her mouth obediently. 

While your heart pounded as you wondered who could possibly be behind your office door, you made your best effort to tidy up your desk, wanting at least something to look presentable. 

“Come in!” you said, after some serious hesitation, and hoped that you wouldn’t be caught with your pants down—quite literally. Moments later, the door to your office opened, and it came as no surprise who stood behind it, the lesser of two evils—Kim Minji. 

“Good morning, boss.” Somehow, you found the courage to look straight ahead while resisting the impulse to look underneath your desk.

 “Morning!” Minji replied back, sporting a bright smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to add to your pile. I come with good news only. Here are our monthly earnings reports. We’re up ten percent from last month, so your bonus at the end of the month will reflect that. Good work.” 

You held your breath when Minji dropped a folder on your desk, and pretended everything was as normal as could be, like you weren’t naked from the waist down with your cock being warmed by Gahyeon’s pretty lips. 

“Thank you, boss. Oh here, I have some reports that you need to look over and sign them.” 

“Of course, I’ll have them back to you by the end of the day.” For all the stress that Minji brought, her smile alone came with a sense of relief, and she was much preferable to deal with than her scary counterpart, Siyeon. 

“Wait, where is Gahyeon? I swear I saw her earlier, did she not show up today?” Minji asked, folding her arms against her chest. 

If only Minji knew your assistant was nestled under your desk. Which of course meant Gahyeon couldn’t help herself. As if on cue, her tongue began to play with the underside of your shaft, and you gritted your teeth to control yourself, but you palmed the back of Gahyeon's head and dug your nails into her skull to prevent anything else. 

“Oh, she’s here. She’s…around. I sent her on a couple errands, so she should be back soon.” 

“Ah, okay. Well, whenever she comes back, send her my regards for a job well done. She’s an official part of the team now, so she shares the credit.” 

“Sure thing, boss.” Minji nodded, turned around to head back to her office, then shut the door behind her. Once she had departed, you took a deep breath, and relaxed back in your chair, with your heart still racing.

“Jesus, Gahyeon. What did I say?” You glared at her underneath your desk, but she didn’t utter a single word. No sooner had you taken your next breath before she snatched your cock back inside her mouth and went back to work. 

“Think you can finish me off by yourself? You want me to blow my load down your tummy?"

Gahyeon had never smiled so wide, nor had as much enthusiasm when she bobbed her head and played with your balls, trying to speed up your orgasm. “Yes, boss! Please let me swallow your cum, I’ll suck every drop out of you.” 

Despite how much she enjoyed having her throat used, Gahyeon also took pride in her oral expertise. So, in the blink of an eye, her movements grew frantic, eager to wring out your load as promised, with every stroke of her mouth bringing you even further to ecstasy.

More than ready to blow your load, you couldn’t ignore the tightness in your core when Gahyeon’s warm, sloppy mouth devoured your cock up, deepthroating from tip to base, with a trail of saliva covering every inch as she slurped the life out of you. 

“Don’t fucking stop, Gahyeon. I’m so close, keep sucking that dick until you make me explode,” you demanded, and she obliged as she sucked with a fervor never shown before, impatiently waiting for you to shoot down her throat. 

Nearly there, your breathing grew heavy, faster with each stroke, and you couldn’t wait to release that deep reservoir of pent up lust Gahyeon had caused. As each pass drove you closer and closer to release, you couldn't stop staring at how her lips swallowed you whole while her eyes kept their focus on you, anticipating your climax. 

Gahyeon didn’t hold back anything, finishing you off with one more long stroke from base to tip, as you gripped the back of her head tightly with both hands, pressed her face down your crotch, and let out a loud groan when you finally unloaded in her mouth. Like a tidal wave, your orgasm hit, her eyes widening more than they ever had when your thick cum quickly overflowed from the messy corners of her lips, the volume of your orgasm simply too much to handle. 

You firmly held her head down, unwilling to let go, all while your dick continued to pulsate inside Gahyeon’s throat, sending more hot semen down, and you spilled everything you had with loud grunts and lust-filled groans. Exhausted and drained of every drop, every ounce of energy, you gasped and panted while releasing the harsh grip you held, feeling the weight of the world lifted. With a messy face and a satisfied smile, Gahyeon pulled away until your cock released from her lips, and opened her mouth wide to let you see the creamy pool of cum gathered up before she swallowed the sticky mess that coated her throat. 

After licking her lips stained with saliva, Gahyeon cleaned up the remnants of arousal that she failed to contain, using her tongue to clean up your crotch so she could fill her stomach more. Only then did she place one more deep kiss on your cock that had yet to stop twitching, and slid her tongue into your sensitive slit, desperate to try to find a drop she hadn’t yet tasted.

“Your cum tastes so good, but I need more, boss, much more. Your delicious cum makes a very good breakfast.” 

“Greedy little cumslut.” Gahyeon giggled in admission as she licked clean the head of your cock. Several deep breaths later, you leaned back in your chair and just stared at her, who kept some part of her body touching yours, lips kissing your inner thighs, delicate hands longing to keep your body warm. 

You were far from done with her, but the workplace would no longer cut it, you needed a more open playground. 

“There’s much more for you later, but you’ll have to earn it,” you said, earning a pout from Gahyeon’s thoroughly used lips, because being told to work for something—even your dick, made her disappointed. Taking some pause, she lifted herself up, stood upright, and took a seat back on your desk, eyes looking around at the stacks and mountains of paperwork that seemed impossible to know where to begin. 

“Now that I’ve relieved some of that stress, what else can I help with, boss?” she asked, not even bothering to button up her shirt. 

“Nothing, Gahyeon.” 

“Nothing?” she repeated, tilting her head to one side. “But I thought you had a lot of work to finish…” 

“Yeah, I do. Piles of it, as you can see. But since you got me so worked up, it’ll have to wait,” you said, shamelessly focusing on her uncovered cleavage that still had glistening saliva staining her chest.

“I’m going to take the rest of the day off, and so are you, just so I can rail you into next week—but not here. Because we both know you’ll be far too loud, so we’re going back to my place so I can fuck your brains out far away from this office, where nobody will be around to hear how loud you’ll scream for me.” 

Even in her disheveled state, Gahyeon couldn’t have been more overjoyed. She’d take any excuse to leave the office. But convincing your superiors as to why you were leaving work with your assistant before noon would be the tricky part, though just this once, you could count on Gahyeon, because you knew she had a thousand different ways to get out of work. You'd leave that part all up to her.

✦ ✦

You couldn’t have driven fast enough to your place. Luckily, most traffic lights were in your favor, and those that weren’t, well—you were fortunate enough to not see red and blue in your rear view mirror. Not even three songs played through your playlist before you arrived, then it became a race to enter your house, and the door couldn’t open fast enough. 

The thought of staying in a hotel did cross your mind, with its spacious beds that you wouldn’t be responsible for changing sheets, scalding hot showers, and beautiful balconies that were perfect for ramming your pretty assistant up against the cold glass while admiring the view. If you wanted, you could have made everything come full circle and took Gahyeon to the same hotel you took Bora to that very first night that snowballed your office relationships. For sure, that really would have made Gahyeon jealous and brought out an even bigger brat in her, but also most likely you’d get kicked out for noise complaints within five minutes. 

Your place would suffice. After all, it was already well equipped with everything you needed, without worries of noise or any other concerns, although you planned on fucking Gahyeon hard enough that the entire neighborhood could hear her moans and screams. 

When the door closed behind Gahyeon, there would be no more holding back, the green light to take her against any surface to do whatever you pleased with her. But she didn’t even bother to properly store her shoes when she slipped them off, yet neither did you, as you tossed your keys, wallet, and all your inhibitions. 

“Bedroom? Living room?” she asked, but wouldn’t make it past the foyer before you pinned her against the front door with a hand wrapped around her throat. Gahyeon knew things wouldn’t be easy the moment she stepped foot in your place, but it didn’t stop her from feeling just a trace of nervousness when you tightened your grip, adding to her arousal. 

She couldn’t hide her anticipation, nor her little lip quivers under your control, but at the same time—this was what she wanted, what she worked hard to provoke you, willing to fold and let you have your way with her. 

“Here? You’re gonna fuck me hard against this door, daddy?” she asked, as though it were both a question and a suggestion, but it only made you clutch her throat harder when you pushed her more against the wood of the front door. 

“Don’t call me that, Gahyeon.”

“But you like it when I call you that. And we’re not at the office…” Gahyeon was right on all counts, but after her little morning shenanigans, she would have to earn her daddy privileges back. 

“You’re right. We’re not at the office anymore, but that doesn’t mean you still deserve to use that word. Because now you’re going to call me sir while I fuck you senseless until your legs give out.”

Releasing the grip on her throat, Gahyeon caught her breath, then gave a slight nod with a blatantly mocking salute. “Yes, sir.” 

“That’s much better. Now arms up.” 

Gahyeon stalled as she rolled her eyes and curled her lips into an even more blatant smirk. “But what if I don’t wanna?” 

That was what you expected, of course. Now, in the comfort of your own space, the best part of bringing Gahyeon home was the freedom to do what you wanted with her. But it came at a cost, for her to fall into her old bratty ways, with her own freedom to challenge every order you gave with less repercussions than at the office.. 

“Arms up, slut,” you repeated, but predictable as always, Gahyeon didn’t move a muscle, nor did she make any attempts to listen. Fine then, you would play her little game—for now. While you stared at the whites of those gorgeous eyes, waiting to see who would blink first, you seized her cold, delicate wrists, and pinned them above her head with the harshest grip you could manage. 

She pretended to fight back, squirming under your touch, and pretended like she couldn’t be controlled. But when you stared daggers into her big, round eyes, she folded like a deck of cards, thanks to your intimidating gaze. 

“Keep those arms raised, Gahyeon. Don’t drop them until I say so.” 

“Y-yes, sir,” she said after nodding in agreement, refusing to give up her faux defiance while you caressed and patted her cheek. 

“Good girl.” 

As her first test of obedience, you released the firm grip on her wrists that had developed bruises already, and observed while she kept her arms held high above her head. Searching for any signs of resistance, you couldn’t find any when you loosened up Gahyeon’s tie and slid it off her, almost tempted to use it to bind her hands together. Instead, you flung it aside and undid her top, allowing yourself access to her ample breasts once more. 

Her chest didn’t stay covered for long, and after a long stare between her deep cleavage, you tugged her lacy bra down enough to release her wonderful full breasts, cupping them the moment they earned freedom. 

Making sure Gahyeon still held her arms up, you squeezed her bare breasts, groping as much flesh could fill your hands. You teased her taut nipples, flicking your fingers against them as they stiffened up, which made a helpless Gahyeon moan against your touch. 

“Look at these gorgeous fucking tits. They look so swollen and sensitive,” you said while fondling them to your heart's content, enjoying their softness, their pleasant weight, and how effortlessly they bounced as you toyed with them. Her tits were as immaculate as they were sensitive, softer as you remembered, perfectly shaped, and you could spend hours kneading them, playing with them, all while her eyes begging for your continued touch.

The more you squeezed Gahyeon’s large breasts, the needier her moans became, as your hands got lost in that milky flesh. She could feel her shoulders ache the longer things went, but knew better than to dare complain. That would be the least of her worries soon enough. 

You tugged at her pretty nipples, pinched them, then flicked them more just to break the silence with her whines—but it would be the last modicum of pure pleasure you would grant Gahyeon. Without warning, you slapped one of her heavy breasts, and watched her flinch in surprise. You then slapped her other breast even harder, perfectly landing on her stiffened nipple that you pinched right after, making her yelp out while causing satisfying ripples of her sensitive flesh. 

Unable to hide her reactions, Gahyeon cried out in both pain and pleasure while you continued smacking her pale tits, the harsh sound an addictive level of arousal for her—for you, another release of frustration, more encouragement to hear those cute whines, and most of all, more punishment. 

Back and forth you went between her beautiful tits, and smacked one after another, right, then the left, then the opposite direction, even slapping them both at once, like a metronome of painful pleasure leaving an arousing soreness that made Gahyeon’s thighs clench. 

"I like you much better when you're an obedient little whore,” you said, proud to have wiped that smirk from Gahyeon’s pretty face, and kept up your assault on her supple, tender breasts that began to turn a shade of red that contrasted with her creamy skin, turning even more sensitive than from the start. She fought hard not to moan, unsuccessful when you carried on the ruthless nature, each pass across her reddened chest a heavy reminder that you were the one with all the power. 

“Fucking brat. You like these huge fucking tits being slapped?” Before she responded, you roughly kneaded her breasts, earning even louder whimpers when you played with her nipples, driving her crazy with stimulation.  

“Y-yes, sir, I love it, I love my tits being slapped! Please, sir, please—make it hurt,” Gahyeon pleaded, and for once, you’d oblige her by smacking her tits with much more force than previously, only to watch them bounce and bounce, as if counting the times she disobeyed you. You knew she could take more, that the painful sting of her tits being slapped would only ruin her panties more. Which was exactly why following a few more smacks and tugs at her swollen nipples, you gave each sensitive, reddened breast one final slap before you pulled away. 

Unsurprisingly, Gahyeon couldn’t help but be greedy and beg for just a little more. “Please, sir! Please keep slapping my tits, please, please…”  

But you ignored her pleas entirely and took a step back, admiring the way Gahyeon stayed frozen in this helpless state. “No, Gahyeon. A greedy little slut like you doesn’t deserve anything.” 

Next came the customary pouts, needy whines, and desperate pleas that you disregarded while guiding her away from the doorway, removing that pesky shirt and bra to leave her fully topless. Finally able to rest her tired arms, the first thing Gahyeon did was make her way over to you, squeezed a handful of your crotch, and let her eyes wander while a delightful smile overtook her sinful lips. 

“Please, sir…” Normally, you’d punish an unpermitted action like that, but well—you figured Gahyeon had enough punishment for now. Plus, you knew that would be exactly what she wanted. So instead, you simply grabbed Gahyeon by the waist, and held her tight against the nearest wall as you dove into her neck. 

“Ah, please!” Letting out little gasps while you licked, nibbled, and then sucked on her delicate neck, eager to leave a mark.  

As you kept sucking a bruise into her neck, Gahyeon returned to your crotch, and rubbed you through your slacks until you hardened under her touch. You made quick work of her skirt and removed it from her tiny little waist, then watched the way it dropped down to her ankles, leaving her in just skimpy panties and torn stockings. Those tattered, unprofessional stockings which gave you an idea when you dropped to one knee. 

You ran a finger over her thigh, scratching against the material to test its strength, and easily tore through the fragile fabric. Confirming your suspicions, you found the perfect spot and tugged at the sheer fabric right between the center until they ripped open. 

Gahyeon looked down in shock, but you couldn’t even be bothered to meet her gaze. “Hey! I liked those stockings!” 

You didn’t—they were tacky, cheap-looking, and most of all, inappropriate for the office. No better excuse than getting rid of them by ripping them off Gahyeon. “You earn a better paycheck now, you can buy another pair. One that’s more professional, like you promised. Besides, they were ripped already.” 

“But they’re supposed to be—” 

Ignoring her was, as always, the best course of action while you removed her now useless stockings and admired her bare, luscious legs in all their splendor. When you rose to your feet and pressed two fingers against her clothed cunt, Gahyeon no longer had any complaints to spare. 

“Ah! Will you—will you fuck me now, sir?”

Not a damn thing would stop you from that. “Yes, Gahyeon. I’m going to use your tight body, every slutty little hole, until I’m satisfied, and I’ll make sure I ruin you.” 

With your intentions laid out, Gahyeon couldn’t look more pleased, and there was no better motivation than your petite assistant waiting for you to ravage her body. Not wasting a second, Gahyeon unbuttoned your pants as you took off your shirt, adding both items to the discarded pile of clothes underneath. For a brief moment, you admired each other’s half-naked bodies, until you grabbed her waist to pull her close enough so that she could feel your bulge against her toned stomach. 

“I can feel how hard you are. I did this to you, didn’t I sir?” Gahyeon asked, as she reached down to massage your bulge, tracing every inch while your throbbing erection strained against the fabric. 

“You’re right, Gahyeon. Your slutty little body caused this. And you know what I plan on doing about it right?” 

“This cock is going inside me, isn’t it, sir? Until I can’t walk?” 

“Until you can’t walk.” 

Without saying anything more, Gahyeon began her ascent up the stairs that led to the bedroom, but only made it a few steps, before you grabbed her voluptuous hips and bent her over the stairwell railing. Little could compare from such a vantage point with your curvy assistant in your favorite position, yet you wasted no time peeling off her skimpy little thong to expose her plump buttcheeks and the prettiest set of pink pussy lips. 

“Impatient, sir?” she asked, and instinctively spread her legs, granting easier access to whichever part of her body you would decide to partake in first. Making that decision would be more difficult than anything you had done at work, for sure. 

“That’s your fault, Gahyeon. Now you’re going to share some of the responsibility,” you replied, pondering over your choices carefully. Her tight, spankable ass begged for attention, and that little asshole would be a wonderful place to start, but the wet flesh of her gorgeous cunt couldn’t be ignored, beckoning as it dripped with arousal. Either would provide an ideal home for your aching shaft. 

Until a decision could be made, you removed your boxers, and gave yourself some relief, stroking several times as your attention grew divided between Gahyeon’s juicy ass and the slick pair of lips that waited for you. 

“Where do you want this cock, slut?" you asked, unable to make a decision on your own and rested your shaft between her shapely cheeks. Surrounded by supple flesh that sandwiched your thick erection, you slid in between and throbbed while you awaited her answer. 

“Wherever you want, sir,” Gahyeon responded, an honest, yet unhelpful response that did little to steer your answer in the right direction. “It really doesn’t matter, as long as you pound me like a whore and empty these big juicy balls inside me.” 

Back at square one, it would be up to you to choose your own fate. Inevitably, you’d use both that tight sculpted ass and her drenched, succulent pussy, but without any lube in arm’s reach, the choice became obvious which would be the winner of your seed. You would save the best for last. 

“Fine, Gahyeon. Let’s start with this pretty little cunt.” 

With your cock poised above Gahyeon’s ass, she couldn’t have been more ready when she arched her back and leaned firmly on the railing, looking back for a moment to entice you with her eyes. As you lined yourself up with her warm opening, your tip nudged her plump pussy lips, and you felt her walls tremble in anticipation. You were all out of patience, so after you grabbed her wide hips and slid inside her with ease, you bottomed her out with your entire length in one fluid motion. 

“Oh god,” Gahyeon moaned out in surprise, while her pussy tightened around your shaft the moment she felt your thick shaft slide into her slippery warmth. “So fucking big.” 

There was no pause, no hesitation when you plunged your hard cock inside the intense warmth of Gahyeon’s tight little pussy. The soft flesh wrapped around you, already dripping wet when it squeezed your length, and your shaft felt so damn good inside that tight hole that your hips picked up speed right away, stretching out her velvety walls. With every thrust you felt her walls quiver, compelled to grip her body tighter, and used her body as an outlet, entirely out of frustration for how goddamn tight she was. 

“Goddamn, Gahyeon, you’re so fucking wet,” you hissed, out of breath at the hot flesh that craved your throbbing cock as you pumped into her heat, your entire shaft covered in her slick juices. “So tight, such a tight fucking slut, god—this tight pussy feels too good.” 

Already, you were going insane, even by the first set of thrusts, Gahyeon felt so hot around you, her delicious cunt squeezing so harshly, that you couldn't help but give in to lust, freeing the restraints that remained. Almost on autopilot, you pounded into her heat unabated, pistoning your hips that met her supple cheeks, and rippled with every thrust as the smack of flesh on flesh filled the small foyer. 

“Oh my god, just like that. Fuck me like that, please sir, fuck me like a toy!” she begged, not that being gentle with her would ever be an option, not when you could stretch her in ways unimaginable. 

“Your tight little cunt loves my cock, doesn’t it? Look at you creaming all over me like a needy fucking whore. You like being used, don’t you? You like being fucked this rough by your boss?” you growled, as Gahyeon desperately moaned for more. 

Fueled by the intense clench of her cunt that persuaded you to keep the rough pace, she held the railing while you kept railing her, and made every type of satisfied moan imaginable. Those delicious cheeks bounced and bounced when your body clapped against them, and they became a soundtrack of delirious bliss, one that you could listen to forever. 

“Sir, yes! Oh my god, you’re so deep in my little pussy, please, please, sir—fuck me harder! Fuck, oh fuck!” 

You continued to mercilessly slam into Gahyeon’s wet cunt as she repeatedly added the word sir to the end of her moans, and fought to keep up with the tempo you set as she became louder with each hard set of thrusts. 

Beginning to pant heavily, Gahyeon squirmed underneath your body and desperately tried to anchor herself to the stairwell. Her beautiful pale skin glistened with sweat as you kept pounding away into her slippery warm depths, and your movements became more and more erratic, borderline out of control. 

And she endured it all so well, so fucking wet you swore you would slip out of her at any moment, but you kept hammering out thrusts, with your end goal to absolutely destroy her cunt. Because with Gahyeon, there was no such thing as being too rough, no holding back, and it was a given to fuck her without a morsel of mercy that undoubtedly, even your neighbors across the street could hear the screams she made while your bodies crashed together. 

If it were anything less, Gahyeon would have complained without end. 

Leaning closer, with your hands still squeezing her insanely wide hips, you buried your face into the crook of her hot sweaty neck, took a long lick, and bit down harshly, yearning for the rich taste of Gahyeon.

“After I cum in you, that huge ass is next. I’ve been waiting to fill your holes, ever since you were on your knees under my desk. I could have pounded your ass at work, but I wanted to do it in the comfort of my own bed so I wouldn’t have to worry about staining the carpet. It’s not easy to explain to the custodial staff that my assistant can’t keep her fucking legs closed.”

For once, maybe since the first time you met her—Gahyeon became speechless. Her attention narrowed on how you were slamming your hips against her and rearranging her guts. “When you report to work tomorrow, you’re going to have to carry around one of those spare cushions from the maintenance closet from me ravaging your perfect ass.” 

Every slew of vulgarity that left your mouth made Gahyeon’s hips buck almost as much as the rough thrusts that battered her sweaty little body. You kept yourself buried in her tight cunt, consumed with desire from the sensations of your hard cock that slid between her drenched lips, pounding into her with thrusts so hard she almost collapsed. 

Overpowered by exhaustion, Gahyeon released her grip on the stairwell, and you took advantage by seizing both her arms one at a time, and held them behind her back, linking them with yours. She wasn’t going anywhere as her lips uttered the most needy cries of pleasure when you pulled her upright towards you, the warmth of her cunt intoxicating, sending you into a frenzy of bliss. Gahyeon was completely yours, and you were free to use and dominate her hot body as much as you desired until you had your fill. 

Utilizing your remaining strength, you followed down a final path of merciless thrusts while keeping her curves close to you at all times, maintaining the urge to fuck every last little bit of brat out of her. 

Her words became a jumbled mess of incoherence, and the more you plunged into that smothering wet heat, the greater the urge became to spill your seed inside Gahyeon, unwilling to fight back against the tightness in your balls that demanded to be drained. 

And while Gahyeon didn’t deserve to cum—you were more than content to keep this a one-sided ride of pleasure, but had to ensure that she became more than a ruined, blithering, fucked out mess who couldn’t remember whose assistant she was. You wouldn’t be satisfied until her legs turned to jelly, hell-bent on this maddening pace as her body began to tremble, counting down to the last moments of release that you both chased. 

Because there would never be anything better than watching Gahyeon fall apart at the seams.

"Sir, please, I’m so close. Please, n-need, need to—” Gahyeon didn’t even have to vocalize her desires when the walls of her soaked cunt tightened to a new level, but you always enjoyed that begging, and wouldn’t hesitate to finish what you had started. So after letting go of her arms, she collapsed to the stairs, clinging onto the wooden steps with your cock still pounding away.

“Hurry up and cum then,” you said, indulging your desires to reclaim her delicious hips once more, clutching them tightly. 

Gahyeon couldn’t exactly do much else under your control, so close to obtaining what she craved since you shoved your cock inside her. She seemed almost reluctant, but the tighter you held her and the quicker you pumped, the more the walls of her cunt pulsated violently—until she shattered like glass. The pressure boiled up inside far too much, making her writhe uncontrollably, juices pouring down your dick that painted the bottom stairs.

“Shit, oh fuck, oh fuck—” Gahyeon gasped out when she hit her peak, and let out a torrential outpour of shrieks, her walls continuously suffocating your cock. The only thing better would be seeing Gahyeon’s tits bouncing wildly in the mirror, as well as the look of pure bliss etched on her gorgeous face when she came. 

Never had her pussy felt so wet or so tight, those harsh clenches like she was prematurely attempting to extract the cum from your aching balls, desperate to be filled with your seed to the brim.

“You must be close too, sir. Cum inside me, please, please cum inside me, fill me, sir…” 

“Don’t you fucking worry, Gahyeon. Your slutty little pussy feels way too good for me not to empty my load into you. That’s what you wanted from the beginning, right? Your boss pumping all this hot cum into your warm little cunt?”

“Yes, yes! Please, sir—fill your little brat, fill me up and use me like a cumdump. Need to feel your big throbbing cock emptying into me, please.” 

Savoring the way that tight little hole trembled for your load would be the last thing you did before burying your length inside one last time, and unloaded deep into Gahyeon. All those hours of pent up annoyance disappeared when you spilled your hot seed into her insides. Her wet, hungry pussy clenched for more, milking out spurt after spurt, groan after groan, as your cock twitched in violent pulsations, and filled her up to the brim, overflowing with every drop. 

You chased that last bit of bliss, pumping with as many strokes as your body had left, and fucked your hot semen into Gahyeon deep, deep as it would go—all the way into her womb.

When that last spurt finally left your balls, you slumped against her, panting heavily, but with no desire to unsheathe from her warmth. Especially not when Gahyeon continued to quiver in ecstasy, catching her breath while you both recovered. 

“Th-thank you, sir,” Gahyeon whispered, her voice weak and trembling, just like her legs underneath her that became just as useless as any words. Your breathing only became deeper the longer you stayed inside Gahyeon, and eventually you pulled out from her swollen lips, watching a slow drip of thick, pearlescent cum that had just been swallowed up leak down her glistening thighs, meeting the rest of her arousal on the steps. 

“Gahyeon, fuck—” 

“D-don’t worry, sir,” she answered, almost reading your mind while your fresh cum continued to trickle down her battered cunt. “Never been better…” 

After a tilt of her head sideways, you kissed her lips while still pressing yourself against her body, feeling her breath in your mouth to validate her condition for yourself. “That’s my good assistant.” 

Even though her legs no longer felt like her legs, and her breathing remained unsteady, you helped Gahyeon up to her feet, and moved her so her back rested against the railing. 

“So, boss…” 

Her chest still hypnotically heaved, and she held onto each side of the railing for support. “H-how come you never fuck me this hard in the office?” 

“Because if I fucked you this hard, we’d both get fired. We’ve gotten caught enough times as is.”

“Yeah, well—” she paused, and avoided the subject, grabbing you by the arm with a weak grip. “You promised you’d fuck me in the ass, boss. Now, come on, I can still walk. Barely.” 

Whenever Gahyeon looked up at you like that, flushed cheeks, disheveled hair, and a magic smile, now you were the one powerless. If she didn’t need a breather, then neither did you. So, leading the way, Gahyeon sluggishly climbed up the stairs to the bedroom, swaying her hips, with her round ass such a beautiful target that you couldn’t help but smack. 

✦ ✦

After the pounding she took, Gahyeon didn’t exactly run up the bedroom stairs. However, her leisurely pace meant you could admire every aspect of her delicious body, and watch the way your cum still dripped down her thighs with every step. 

Her appetite for dick hadn’t been tamed, and if there was anything better than Gahyeon on her knees—it was Gahyeon lying on your bed naked. Running fingers through her hair, her head bobbed with familiarity between your spread legs, her bare feet dangling in the air, with a mouth full of cock. 

But while you loved the proper oral session Gahyeon gave as you relaxed into your pillows, and her hot mouth swallowing your length whole, that wasn’t her purpose here. That belonged to something waiting on your nightstand. 

You raised Gahyeon’s head off your cock with a simple motion, which caused her lips to pout, but instead of complaining, she crawled over your lap and grabbed something from said nightstand. 

“This must be for me,” Gahyeon said, attempting to act coy and innocent as she shook up a bottle of lube, its contents already half-empty. She flicked the bottle open with a pop, and turned her back towards you, positioning herself on the edge of your lap. Gahyeon gave you a worthy show when she lubed herself up, inserting one digit, then another, fingering her ass as she spread the cold liquid around her tightest hole, letting out cute little moans the deeper she went. 

“Can’t wait to feel your cock instead of my fingers,” she said, turning to face you, and drizzled lube down your shaft, eyes beaming with anticipation. “Can’t wait to feel all of it filling me up.”

For good measure, she poured some down your balls, just to see the way they glistened when she rubbed it in, but kept going, her oiled up hands massaging your stiff cock. 

“Hope you’re ready for that little asshole to be stretched, Gahyeon.” 

“I am. I can’t wait anymore, sir, please,” she pleaded, guiding your cock, and groaned when she sandwiched your girth between her asscheeks. Letting her impatience linger, you remained silent while Gahyeon’s massive ass rubbed your cock, but grabbed the bottle of lube from her, and coated her pale cheeks until her entire backside became oiled up. 

“See? Doesn’t that feel good? It’ll feel so much better when it’s inside me…” 

You couldn’t agree more, but that only meant Gahyeon would wait longer, because you needed one more moment to savor how the oiled flesh of her plump ass squeezed your cock, one more moment to admire that magnificent ass. Grabbing a handful, you smacked it hard, an imaginary green light appearing in her eyes. 

“Yeah? You’re going to ream my ass finally?” Gahyeon asked with a breath of relief.

“Yes, Gahyeon. There’s no way I’m not going to shove my cock up this perfect ass.” 

Those words made her grin from ear to ear, earning what she wished for, a reward for patience. "I’ve needed my little hole stretched so wide, sir, please—” 

“You don’t have to keep calling me sir,” you said, and her eyes twinkled upon earning her privileges back. 

“Please, daddy—” 

“Stop begging, Gahyeon. I'm not only going to stretch you out, I plan on destroying your tight ass until you become a pathetic, whimpering mess. And even if you pleaded with me to stop fucking your brains out, I won’t, because remember—you wanted this.” 

Gahyeon couldn’t help but curl her distinctive lips into a blush-inducing smile. Despite the fact that you just laid out the blueprints to give her the anal hammering she so richly deserved, you felt no obligation to move a muscle. After all, you shouldn’t be the only one doing all the work, should you?

“If you want this dick so bad, then come bounce that fat ass on it.” 

“Yes, daddy!” she replied, somehow still so energetic while she lifted her hips high and grabbed your cock, carefully lining it up against her back opening, that juicy ass eagerly waiting to be filled. When it came to anal, Gahyeon was nothing but enthusiastic, and preferred it almost as much as you did, and who could blame her when she had an ass like that. 

So naturally, Gahyeon wasted little time, taking a deep breath before lowering herself down, until your thick cockhead disappeared inside her impossibly tight asshole. That first orgasmic plunge was the very definition of heaven, a slow burn of bliss upon entering her back entrance that always took your breath away. 

“Oh god, daddy,” she gasped, placing both hands on your thighs for leverage. Sharing the sentiment, you gritted your teeth when you felt such an overwhelming tightness that surrounded your shaft, and could hardly process it all, eyes focused on the way Gahyeon’s luscious ass rose back up, nearly leaving herself empty before she sank deeper. There was nothing like watching her ass swallow up your cock. 

Every little twitch, every shudder that ran through your body urged her to take you deeper, because for your assistant, it wasn’t much trouble to fit more of you inside. At this point, Gahyeon was a seasoned veteran in taking a cock up her ass, relaxing every muscle, while she took more into her hungry lithe body.

“Shit, Gahyeon, that ass is fucking tight,” you said, now your turn to be blatantly obvious as Gahyeon worked more cock inside that warm little hole, with only one goal in mind—every inch balls deep.

That goal wouldn’t take long to accomplish when she arched her back, taking your cock into her small frame like it was nothing, and spread her ass cheeks to accept more of you. “Good girl, you take that cock like such a good girl, stretch that little asshole out.”

With every word of praise, she clenched hard, an extra bonus to that magnificent view in front, Gahyeon’s perfect, round ass taking more of your girth, begging for your whole length. 

“Ah fuck, daddy—oh my god, you’re so big. You feel so good, daddy, I need more, fuck, fuck—” 

Nothing compared to the tightness of Gahyeon; that divine cunt could squeeze a load out of you in seconds, but her warm, heavenly asshole, almost painfully tight—that’s where the real fun started. 

Greedy as could be, Gahyeon bounced her thick ass on your dick like she had something to prove, that vice-like grip already driving you to the point of insanity. Nearly burying your entire length in one motion, she pumped those wide hips like they had a mind of their own, and the pressure on your cock intensified while her tight little hole became stretched to the limit. 

“Fuck, I love how good this feels. Need daddy to gape me, open me up more. Please, daddy, fill me more…” 

She pleaded with every word, and your throbbing shaft fought against the constricting walls of her asshole, but for either of you, it was never enough—you needed to be as deep inside her as possible. At the tail end of one of her endless bounces, you reached up to grab her oiled ass and pulled her body back as you plunged the full length of your shaft deep inside her asshole in one continuous stroke. 

“Oh shit!” Gahyeon cried out, those tight walls grasping your cock with somehow more force after feeling your full length buried inside her. She rolled those magical hips to match your thrusts, that ass eager to take every last inch, and she tried her absolute best to accommodate your size. 

“Does my little slut like bouncing that fat ass on my dick?” you asked, returning the reins back to Gahyeon, who took the initiative and slammed her cheeks down on your thick, rigid cock, every bounce devouring you balls deep. 

“Yes, daddy! Oh god, it’s so amazing. You know I ride dick better when it’s in my ass.” Gahyeon demonstrated by using your cock to ride with more fervor, that plump ass engulfing your stiff erection as her hips moved in powerful circles, drawing you deeper under her euphoric spell. 

All your focus stayed on Gahyeon’s body, how sweat collected on her back, and the hypnotic way her round wet cheeks rippled as she fucked herself on your shaft without interruption. As her ass choked your cock, you did nothing but lay back in the sheets and let her handle everything, the cadence of her careless bounces mirroring the bed that creaked in protest. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight, so perfect—god, that tight little asshole feels incredible. Look how well you take me, keep going,” you said, demanding in your tone, and now that Gahyeon had been properly opened up, she had an obligation to take your whole length into her hot little asshole as she rode you like crazy, accelerating her hips, utterly consumed by lust. Even when the bounces of her ass became relentless, it didn’t dampen the unimaginable bliss; if anything, it planted the seeds of desire further. 

“My body is yours, daddy. Use it, use me as you like,” Gahyeon said, looking back with her lips curled wider than ever. Words like that made your swelling erection throb like crazy, the pleasure of your shaft buried in her suffocating ass almost too much to handle. 

Seizing control of Gahyeon’s tight frame, she lifted her bare feet and placed them on your thighs as you took hold of her hips, not wanting to waste any time as you remained lodged within that perfect plump ass.

“You feel that hard cock throbbing inside you? That’s what’s gonna destroy this amazing ass. I’ll make sure my pretty slut can’t walk for a whole fucking week.” 

Gahyeon wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less, nor would she if you granted her any mercy while hammering your dick into her asshole, making every thrust that you delivered count. Firmly in charge of her body, you pounded away at that tight muscular ring, using your cock to gape Gahyeon’s little hole until it no longer struggled to fit your length, but she craved more, much more, and you reciprocated her desires. 

“Yes, daddy, yes! Fuck, that cock stretches me so well, use me all you want,” she whimpered, the strength in her voice fading from all the begging. Just like in the office, Gahyeon understood her duties in the bedroom, knowing how to be an outlet for your lust, and how to be a proper fucktoy. There would never be any doubts about how aggressive you would be with her, so after sliding your hands under her sweaty thighs, you pushed her legs up into a V shape, locked your fingers around her neck, then lifted her small frame into the air, giving your all into every unforgiving thrust. 

“Oh fuck—fuck, fuck, holy shit—” Gahyeon cried out as you fully put her into the full nelson position and hammered her ass relentlessly like she was a fleshlight. As you used her incredible ass in the manner that she loved, taking absolute control, nothing could match the absolute bliss that filled your body, and you were lucky to pound something so perfect. 

If only you could see the way her eyes rolled back in her head while you rammed her ass without mercy—but hearing her boisterous cries of pleasure would have to do. In an instant, your hips released all their energy stored up for the last several moments, and you drilled Gahyeon’s asshole with so much vigor that her moans turned into loud, frantic screams—one of your favorite sounds from her lips. 

“Oh god, don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop, ruin my little asshole, oh fuck!” Gahyeon managed to utter out before her words became little more than a slur of curses, unraveling underneath your unrelenting onslaught as the intense pleasure in your cock turned into an addiction, one that you would fuel by treating her body just like a toy, giving her the anal pounding she so richly deserved. 

Despite how forceful your thrusts were, nothing would stop Gahyeon from begging for more, and you could drill her ass indefinitely. But as much as you craved to keep her suspended in that position, the creeping urge for release began to take over, so involuntarily you would oblige it, savoring how helpless Gahyeon remained while you kept her asshole filled to the hilt. 

When your shaft finally slipped from her ass, you beamed with pride at how gaped you made her asshole, and Gahyeon fell to her side, able to catch her breath. But that respite wouldn’t last long, since she couldn’t stand not having your cock inside in some way, and slurped on your Gahyeon-flavored tip once more.

“God, you’re an insatiable little slut, aren’t you? You like tasting your ass?” 

“Mhmm,” Gahyeon hummed, and planted a big wet kiss on your tip before she shoved your cock back inside her warm mouth, down to the base in one stroke. She indulged her hunger, sucking you off while tasting herself on your cock, her throat aching to drain everything from you. 

You weren’t finished with her yet, left empty by every second that went by without the suffocating grip of her ass. “You want me to keep pounding this tight little asshole?” 

Gahyeon hesitated for a moment, too involved with slobbering on your cock before withdrawing her pouty lips. “Want you to cum again. Wanna feel you in my ass again, my little hole hasn’t been stretched enough.”  

“Such a slut for this dick, aren’t you?” you asked, while Gahyeon nodded in agreement, shifting to the center of your messy bed sheets, her legs spread wide as she rubbed her cunt, unsatisfied with how much time she had spent empty. Her impatience grew, but you did little but watch, indulging yourself in her divine physique, focused on every movement she made while touching herself. 

“Come on, daddy. Shove that big cock back inside my ass.” 

You rubbed her thighs, and planted gentle kisses on their pillowy softness while spreading more lube inside her, using it as an excuse to tease her further. “Needy fucking brat.” 

“And your needy little brat needs another pounding…” 

In one movement, you lifted Gahyeon’s creamy legs into the air, and rested her ankles on your shoulders. No doubt you wouldn’t have much left in the reserves, but just to see the frustration on her face, you stalled while you stroked yourself, teasing her warm little hole with your swollen cockhead. 

"Daddy, pleeease—please fuck me," she pleaded, with a drone of whines, your cock nudging against the inviting warmth of her ass. But you still hesitated—not for Gahyeon’s sake, but for yours, and needed a moment to prepare—to prepare for that insane tightness again. With one hand lining up your shaft, the other stroked her beautiful legs, until you were ready to fill her back up again. 

You waited for one more whiny plea, one more ‘daddy’ while keeping track of the desperation in her eyes, then impaled your entire shaft into that tiny, unyielding hole. Her back arched right off the bed upon re-entry, and you swore the second time felt like an even tighter squeeze, fitting perfectly inside her. “Shit, Gahyeon—”

That tight hole tempted you into an early climax, but you fought back against those urges, and one stroke at a time, pumped into Gahyeon, groaning at that familiar tightness. 

“Daddy, why aren’t you pounding me?” Her lips pouted in her usual manner, but you ignored her and focused on setting the pace, allowing only the head of your cock to disappear inside her asshole as she desperately squeezed you. 

“Let me feel it all, daddy. Split me open.”

Regardless of the look on her face, you wouldn’t give in that easily. “Be a good girl and rub your clit for me. Nice and slow.” 

You didn't take your eyes off Gahyeon as she obeyed, using her fingers to rub slow, lazy circles against her sensitive swollen clit, and bit her lip at the added stimulation. Her cute whimpers guided your hips and urged you to sink deeper inside her, your strokes quickening as you filled more hard flesh inside that tight hole. Every expression her cute face made became a contortion of lust, and you couldn’t keep yourself from bottoming her out once more, returning back to your animalistic desires.  

“Daddy, just like this, you’re so deep, need more…” 

Holding back would no longer be an option when the urgency in Gahyeon’s eyes mirrored your own, and you didn’t hesitate to keep your length buried inside her ass, not even giving a chance for her to adjust to your size, pumping against the harsh grip around your cock. 

Snatching whatever pleasure she could while Gahyeon kept playing with her clit, you rammed her little asshole without any cares or limits, thrusting with your hips in an erratic rhythm, more and more uncontrolled with every stroke. 

“Oh god, daddy, that feels so good. Stretch me with that thick cock, pound my asshole, fuck me hard!” The noises from her lips became borderline unintelligible as your thrusts increased tenfold, hard enough to make her big breasts bounce, and made her fingernails dig into the sheets she squirmed underneath. Her constant moans and whimpers spurred you on as you refused to let your cock stay outside longer than necessary, and held her legs together, hugging them tightly as you began to lose all sense of self-control.

“Fuck, this tight asshole makes my cock feel so fucking good, Gahyeon. Gonna pound you so hard, gonna fuck you like a little slut deserves,” you said as your shaft moved in frenzied, harsh strokes, hitting the right angle, not neglecting a single sweet spot. 

Not letting up your pace, you let those luscious legs fall from perched on top of your shoulders, then spread them wide as they could go, giving yourself a better view of your cock spearing her asshole. 

At this point, you weren’t so much as fucking Gahyeon anymore, but using her body as just a cocksleeve, a toy, a container for your uncontrollable lust. Through all that lust, you were so lost in the tightness of her ass that any words that exited her mouth sounded miles away, but still heard the faint murmur of pleas. You played with handfuls of her delicious bouncy tits, fingertips trailing up to her collarbone, and then you wrapped a hand around her throat, squeezed with just enough pressure. 

“Harder, choke me harder, daddy. Choke your little slut.” 

If there were any remnants of control left, Gahyeon relinquished it all when you squeezed her neck harder, and those large eyes spoke more than words ever could. Her asshole tightened more than you could fathom, just like your hand around her throat, and you had no qualms about how rough you were fucking Gahyeon, nor the red marks that would be left displayed on her bare flesh for everyone in the office to see in the morning. 

Not that your coworkers didn’t already know how rough you pounded Gahyeon in the various rooms and spaces around the workplace—if only everywhere else had as much soundproofing as your office did. 

But nothing would deter you from pounding Gahyeon’s wrecked asshole, when the constant uncontained lust in her eyes began to boil over, long past the point of no return. The pressure built up in her body faster than expected as she frantically worked two fingers deep inside her cunt, and without warning—Gahyeon sprayed your abdomen with a sudden influx of liquid, an orgasm so intense, so overwhelming, that it left her body shaking, desperate for more. 

“There you fucking go, Gahyeon. Good girl, cum for me one more time, can you do that?” 

Gahyeon could only nod. 

“Fuck!” she cried out, and did just that without hesitation, letting out another deluge of squirt from her greedy cunt that coated your lower body in her slick arousal. Her head fell back onto the mattress, quivering thighs spread wide, while you prepared to take your own climax. 

“Good little slut.” 

“D-daddy, I want your cum too—want it so bad,” Gahyeon said, with pleading eyes, and soon enough she would get it, every last little drop. You doubled down on your pace, and plunged your length into her asshole for as long as you could, savoring the last clenches while pumping into her until your climax was too strong to resist. 

All you could withstand were a few more thrusts, so after pulling out of her ass, you spilled hot cum all over her tight stomach, and covered her supple tits with the remainder of your milky load as Gahyeon groaned from below with each thick spurt that fell on her bare, sweaty body. 

Equally exhausted, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Gahyeon’s perfect body used as your canvas, staring at her glazed breasts that heaved hypnotically, and her cute, cum-covered tummy that became the perfect target for your load. Lusting for more, she stroked your sensitive cock, almost disappointed when you were milked dry, but kept pumping, desperate to extract one more leftover drop. 

“Gahyeon—” 

“Yes, daddy?” 

You couldn’t find the words you wanted to say, but continued to stare over Gahyeon's body, panting hard while you took in every tiny detail, every droplet of sweat on her pretty, pale skin. 

“Wanna go again?” Gahyeon asked, and while you didn’t exactly have much gas left in the tank—you couldn't find a good reason to say no. 

"Needy brat."

"I'm your needy brat. Come on, daddy. I know you wanna go again. Press my tits against the glass, get them all wet and soapy for you. You’re still so hard—I know you’d love a nice soapy titfuck,” she said, massaging your balls, teasing them with her fingers like she was trying to get them to fill back up. 

Just the thought ensured your erection wouldn’t falter, and well, you couldn’t ever refuse an offer like that. With a grin, you hoisted Gahyeon off the mattress to her feet, legs unsteadily underneath her.

She still had your load painted on her body drenched in sweat when she stood upright, but wore it proudly, just like the grin on her features. “I’ll go get the water running.”

Neither of you would spend that much time getting clean, because you knew the moment you stepped inside the hot shower, Gahyeon’s hands would be all over your body, doing way more than soaping you up. But you were used to that. 

Nothing could really ever quench Gahyeon’s bottomless libido, anyway. 

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

02/24/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Cast&CrewSightings; Samba BTS; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Damien Gerard; Guz Khan!; SaveOFMD Crew Billboard; AdoptOurCrew Saturday Sillies; Making A Difference; Articles; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika;

Been a long Saturday yall. Hope you enjoyed the BTS and general clown/honking going around!

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

= Samba Schutte Feat. David Jenkins! =

Samba's back with more BTS for us today!

This time the Crew Shoutout is for Chaos Dad himself: David Jenkins! So good to see Chaos dad having such a great time BTS. We love you David!

Videos on Tumblr:

Video 1

Video 2

Video 3

= Rhys Darby =

Rhys decided to take it up a notch today on his Tiktok/Instagram and tell... someone they've created a monster. Who might that be?

== Damien Gerard ==

Our crew-mate @patchworkpiratebear got a Cameo from our lovely Father-Teach, Damien Gerard! There's a bit of a story behind it, see below! Cameo link

== Guz Khan! ==

Hey! It's been a hot minute since we've seen our friend Guz Khan-- and now he's showed up on a cat! Good to see you sir!

== Save OFMD Crew ==

There have been questions raised about the billboard that the SaveOFMD Crew have been posting teasers for on their socials. The Crew had a meeting today wherein they discussed the concerns of the fandom, and have taken that feedback to heart. They are currently working on a clear information packet regarding the logistics of the current billboard efforts. They have kindly asked for your patience while they finish putting those last touches together!

== @adoptourcrew Saturday Sillies! ==

Our friends over at @adoptourcrew were kind enough to set up a new Saturday Sillies this week! This time they made custom OFMD Wordles! There were WAY too many images to include in the recap, so if you'd like to check them out, please visit the tumblr post below!

Wanna play? You can visit a tumblr post here

== Making a Difference! ==

Thank you to everyone who contributed to, or shared the fundraiser for Trans Pride Brighton! They've finally met their goal and can stay open another year! You made a serious difference in the lives of trans and non-binary folk in that community!

== Articles ==

Deze HBO-serie is gecanceld, maar had een 95% op Rotten Tomatoes

Schwule Romanze zwischen Piratenkapitänen

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies. I hope you had a fun Saturday/Sunday wherever you are. I know some of you are already closing out the weekend. We made it through another day-- and there's all sorts of action going on across all the platforms. I hope you got a chance to have fun, but also to rest. I know you know this, but even though I do too I often forget it. Rest is so very important. It's so easy to burn out, especially when we're constantly exposed to so much online. I think to myself "oh it's fine I'll just get a few more things done" and then it's suddenly 3 hours later and I've had only 4 hrs sleep in the last 30. Please please please give yourself self care today. Go brush your teeth, or take a shower. If you feel like you can do more, brush your hair, or make yourself a nice cup of tea. Do something for you that makes you relax and feel rested. On your last day of the weekend, make sure to take a few moments to yourself and just remember how awesome you are. You may not feel like it sometimes, but I can tell you now you truly are Awe-some. You bring so much life and love to this world and you deserve all beautiful things you want. Anyway, I'm very sleepy and I'm rambling again (what's new). Sleep well and enjoy your day lovelies, see you tomorrow.

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

I'm being lazy tonight again yall. Just two goofy gifs that caught my eye, sorry I am running on fumes. Tomorrow I'll try to find some themed ones for ya <3

Rhys Gif: Courtesy of @fandomsmeantheworldtome

Taika Gif: ohnotheydidnt.livejournal

[tgmsunmontue]

With our pets, a house becomes our home

5k Hangster MeetCute (Explicit, but not very by my standards). Bradley is the vet (DVM) that Jake takes Brisket to after he adopts her and moves to Corpus Christi to be a flying instructor.

I started this fic before I saw @yeagrave's art, but this post is 100% Jake's lockscreen (and those are a set of Jake's spare dog tags).

                Monday mornings generally suck. The people who have left their pets wellness until normal business hours because they didn’t want to pay the extra emergency fees. He quietly judges them. This Monday sucks more than most though, because he’s covering another vet on what is meant to be his day off. But he doesn’t want to make the admin staff have to reshuffle the thirty or so appointments that he now has facing him in a long gauntlet of monotony. Hopefully there will be something interesting that pops up.

                He deals with the standard checkups, listens to heart murmurs, administers vaccines, makes notes for the techs, gives instructions about diets he knows get ignored by owners who think they know better. He has to change his scrubs when a dog vomits on him and yeah… he wants his day off back with a deep burning passion but pushes through. He can shower and blob when he gets home and bitch and moan to his friends. They can compare Mondayitis stories and see who comes out worst.

                He steps into the waiting room, and there’s only two people left, one a woman with two kittens in a carrier, and the other a man cradling a puppy. He’s only got one left for his ticket today, and it’s a puppy so okay, at least he gets to look at a cute puppy and a cuter guy.

                “Brisket?”

                The guy blushes and Bradley can’t help his smile getting bigger as he gestures toward the consultation room.

                “Uh, hi.”

                “Hi, I’m Bradley. What brings Brisket in today?”

                “She needs a general checkup, and I wanted to register her with a vet since I moved here in the weekend… She needs vaccines I think? And to be fixed? And I wanted to ask some questions?”

                “So she’s here for the works… can I have a look?” Bradley asks and the guy blushes again, looks down at the tiny bundle who looks back at him adoringly and Bradley has a thing for guys who like animals. Couldn’t be with anyone who didn’t like animals, wouldn’t feel like he could trust them. He hands the puppy over to Bradley and he handles her gently, lets her lick and sniff at him a little before lowering her to the examination table.

                “Tell me about how you got Brisket,” Bradley says, running his hands down the little body, grinning as she happily licks his fingers, tail wagging enthusiastically. She’s very sweet. Most guys like having big dogs, so he’s genuinely curious as to whether this guy chose this dog, or if he’s here at the bequest of someone else. Girlfriend or boyfriend maybe. Purely out of professional courtesy.

                “Uh, I’ve wanted a dog for ages. Finally getting settled in one place for a while so I figured it was finally time you know? So I went to the shelter in San Diego, not really intending to adopt then and there…”

                “She’s a rescue?” Bradley says, and he’s a little surprised. Because if they’re not big dogs then they’re usually little dog breeds, so some hybrid-cross-breed that some breeder thinks will be in demand. This little thing hadn’t looked like any breed he was familiar with, but there’s so many new ones and he’s not usually up with them all.

                “Well yeah, of course. She just had such a friendly personality you know?”

                “She is very sweet natured,” Bradley agrees, because the guy is clearly besotted with his puppy, and it’s adorable. He listens to her heart and lungs, takes her temperature and soothes her through the discomfit.

                “So did you have paperwork showing what she’s already been vaccinated for? Most shelters give you adoption paperwork?”

                “Oh, yeah, they did. One second,” the guy says, pulling folded pieces of paper out of his pocket and handing them over. On the top of the paper are all the details of the dog, and then down the bottom the details of the new owner. Jake Seresin. At least he has a name now.

                “Okay, so she’s all up to date with all the vaccines, she’ll need to come back in six weeks for a booster. And we don’t do on the spot spaying or neutering, you’ll have to make an appointment when she’s a little older. Try not to let her out unattended, because we don’t want to be adding to the puppy population, regardless of the fact that she’d no doubt make gorgeous babies…You a first time dog owner?”

                “I grew up on a ranch, had lots of animals. Horses mainly. Well, beef stock. But lots of working animals, not pets. She’s my first.”

                “Well, you made a good choice. She’s got a lovely temperament. Nice and healthy,” Bradley states, laughing as she tries to chew on his thumb and he reaches for a dog toy from the jar. “Okay, so she’s going to be mouthy, she’ll want to chew on things as her adult teeth come through. You might find a couple of puppy teeth lying around but they usually just swallow them. It’s all normal. You have any questions?”

                “Uh…I… um. Made a list.”

                “Sensible,” Bradley says, and this guy’s adorable intensity is commendable, he wished more owners thought to ask their vets the questions rather than trusting Google.

                “You’ve, uh, already answered a few of them actually.”

                “That’s good, what else have you got?”

                He asks about diet and exercise, sleep and routines, anxiety and separation and toilet training and Bradley answers them all, writes down a few notes and links to some reputable websites. Recommends a puppy obedience course, steers him away from problematic dog toys which can cause more harm than good. The appointment definitely runs well over the time, but it’s his last of the day and he’s got nowhere else he’d rather be, and after the day he’s had this is a nice silver lining.

                “Anything else I can help you with?”

                “No, I think that’s it. Thanks so much, it’s really helped.”

                “You’re more than welcome. I guess I just have a question for you now.”

                “Of course, what is it?”

                “I don’t usually do this, but you want to grab a drink sometime?”

                “A drink. Like…A date?”

                “Yep.”

                “Yeah. Yeah I’d like that.”

                “Great, let me get a card.” He grabs a business card, usually reserved for when he goes to conferences, carefully prints his personal cell phone number on the back and hands it over. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

…             …             …

                Jake gets back to his house and immediately lets Brisket out into the back garden, looks at the little rectangular piece of card and puts the number into his phone before he loses it. He puts the name in as Bradley but then follows it with the flame emoji, followed by the guy with the moustache and then the dog emoji. That’s enough to remind him of who exactly Bradley is. Not that he thinks he’s going to need the reminder.

                He spends some time looking at the websites Bradley has recommended, sends an enquiry about the puppy obedience classes. He’d already made an appointment for the booster shots and for getting Brisket fixed. Definitely doesn’t want to wait that long before seeing Bradley again. He grins. Only in town for five days and he’s got a guys number. Without even trying. Phoenix told him a puppy would help him make friends, that he needed as much help as he could, maybe she was onto something.

Hi Bradley. This is Jake. Let me know when you want to do that drink. I don’t start work until next week so currently free as a bird.

                It’s not too late, and it’s been a couple of hours. He’s not going to play hard to get. He’s never considered himself hard to get when the guy is as attractive as Bradley is, and he’s never been one to play games or overthink setting up dates or hookups. He’s hoping this is maybe more than a hookup.

I’m free most evenings. Tomorrow? Dinner?

                Jake grins, likes the idea of dinner even more than a drink, it’s a good sign; sends a message back, organizing a time but asking for recommendations of where they could go to eat.

…             …             …

                They settle at a table and quickly peruse the menu before placing orders with the hovering waitstaff. They’ve made superficial small-talk about the weather and how Brisket is doing, but he’s hoping he can find out more about Jake himself.

                “So you’re new to the area?”

                “Uh yeah, I guess. I lived here a while back but am back for work.”

                “And what do you do for work?”

                “I’m in the Navy. An aviator,” Jake says, like he’s a little unsure.

                “You’re shitting me…” Bradley says with a disbelieving laugh, because he’s had a guy tell him he was a naval aviator before. Except he hadn’t been and the lie had quickly bitten the other guy in the ass when Bradley had quickly realized and called him out on it. It had been a shame because Bradley had genuinely liked him.

                “Why would I lie?”

                “Well, some guys think it’ll sound impressive…”

                “Isn’t it?”

                “Well… maybe to some guys,” Bradley concedes.

                “Not you?”

                “No. Not to me. I’m more impressed you adopted a rescue, travelled across country with it and care about your puppy than what you might or might not do for your work.”

                “Most people care that I disappear for months on end. Or have a thing against the military in general.”

                “Huh,” Bradley states, realizing that that was maybe where his hesitance had come from. “I’m used to people being away for long periods,” Bradley states. Jake raises an eyebrow. “Sorry. I’m just… I was a Navy brat. Sort of.”

                “Sort of?”

                “Yeah. Grew up on bases, spent most of my life on them. We probably know some of the same people, if you’re actually a naval aviator…” Bradley says, still giving him an out, because maybe this guy is not realising the hole he’s dug.

                “How do you figure?”

                “My dad was a naval aviator, and until very recently my godfather was also a naval aviator, although he’s recently retired. Although I don’t think the Navy will actually ever get rid of him. He’s pretty entrenched.”

                “Yeah, what’s his name?”

                “Pete Mitchell,” Bradley provides, and Jake’s immediate response makes him relax a little. That’s definitely recognition of the name.

                “Maverick? Mav’s your godfather?”

                Bradley opens his mouth, snaps it shut again. Not just recognition but more than that. He's calling him Mav. Of fucking course he knows Mav, and he hadn’t used his callsign so this guy is legitimately a naval aviator.

                “You know Mav huh?”

                “Yeah. He’s… damn. He’s fucking insane but so good. He was brought in to train us and he’s just… that good.”

                “Don’t let him hear you say that. His ego doesn’t need to be made any bigger.”

                “He deserves his ego, he’s fucking legendary.”

                “You sound like a fan.”

                “Yeah, I guess I am. He’s… worthy of fans.”

                “Yeah well, he’s my godfather. So there you go.”

                “Wait, are you little goose?”

                “Oh god…” Bradley groans.

                “You are!”

                “Yeah yeah… this is quickly losing the date vibe.”

                “Sorry, I can bring it back to that,” Jake says, and his hand is suddenly resting on Bradley’s, warm and dry, fingers stroking the back of his hand.

                “Yeah, think you better or you might strike out…”

                “Wouldn’t want that…” Jake says, and his eyes are dark and amused and Bradley feels a little thrill at being the subject of his intense gaze.

                “So, you’re an actual naval aviator.”

                “Yeah, no wonder you aren’t impressed if you grew up hearing about Mav’s exploits. Fuck.”

                “Trust me, I find you plenty impressive.”

                “Good to know,” Jake says, his smile clearly pleased. “I’m one of the new flight instructors. Have a three-year stint here and Kingsville unless they need me for something special.”

                “Nice. Do you like teaching?”

                Their conversation changes as they talk more, discussing what their upbringings were like, their families, respective careers, all of Bradley’s current animals, favorite food and drink. It’s easy, their humor similar and gently teasing at times, making laughter come easily. It’s one of the best first-dates he’s ever had and it’s not until there’s a polite cough that he looks up to see the rest of the restaurant is empty, the waitstaff having clearly cleared up and are now just waiting on them. A quick glance at his phone tells him it’s nearly midnight and his mind bugs out a little.

                “Shit, sorry. I guess we got caught up talking.”

                “It’s fine.”

                He grabs the bill, leaving a generous tip for keeping them and tells Jake he can grab the bill next time, which has him murmuring next time huh under his breath, close to Bradley’s ear as they walk close together as they step outside. There are only two cars left in the lot and he guesses the staff must park somewhere else. He walks Jake to his car, only a few yards from his own truck.

                “I had a really good time tonight…” Bradley starts.

                “Me too. Wouldn’t mind doing it again…”

                “What are you doing Saturday?”

                “Having dinner with this hot guy I just met…”

                “What a weird coincidence, so am I…”

                He shifts forward, eyes searching Jake’s face to make sure there isn’t any hesitation before placing a gentle kiss on Jake’s mouth. He pulls back slowly, his lips quirking in amusement when Jake quickly gives him another kiss back, slightly firmer and longer and he feels the flicker of warm anticipation come to life in his belly. Potential something.

                “Don’t suppose I can tempt you to come back to my place?”

                “I’m definitely tempted, but I’ve got to get home. Dogs.”

                “Oh yeah, of course.”

                “Bring Brisket on Saturday. She can meet the pack…”

                He doesn’t want to mention that Jake could also bring all her gear, as well as a spare toothbrush for himself.

…             …             …

                They’ve been messaging since dinner on Tuesday and Jake feels completely settled into his house now, he’s driven to both Corpus Christi and Kingsville to familiarize himself with the routes. He’s taken Brisket to her first puppy obedience class, figured out the most convenient grocery store. All week he’s been looking forward to Saturday, packs some things and leaves them in has car, so if he needs any of it they’ll be close at hand. If it’s effectively a sleepover backpack for him and Brisket that’s between him and Brisket.

                He pulls into the drive of the house address Bradley had given him and looks at the tall fence that surrounds the back garden, can already hear barking and he looks down at Brisket who is sitting there, ears pricking forward at the sound of other dogs. He gets out, grabs her bag of stuff and carries her toward the house, glad she at least seems curious about the barking rather than terrified. He rings the bell, eyes widening at the sudden increase in barking and then Bradley is there, smiling at him behind the wavy glass of the door. Immediately the barking ceases, although there is a small yap, and then the door opens.

                “Hi. Come on in.”

                “Hi. Uh. Are you sure she’s going to be okay?”

                “Trust me, if anything she’ll rule them with an iron paw… feel free to put her down.”

                Jake doesn’t particularly want to, but Bradley is looking expectant, as are the five dogs who are all sitting and waiting obediently. He knows they aren’t all Bradley’s dogs permanently, that he’s fostering three and dog-sitting one, but he can’t remember which one is which. Most of the dogs are normal sized, one is huge though, and he wishes he remembered which one Bradley said was his. Then a cat walks in and insolently stalks in front of the line of dogs and collapses at Bradley’s feet.

                “Curtiss,” Bradley states, waving a hand at the cat with a sardonic sigh. The fact that none of the dogs have moved, except one, the largest, whose tail had started wagging enthusiastically makes Jake feel more confident about putting Brisket down. She is nowhere near as disciplined as any of the other dogs. Hell, the cat is probably more disciplined than Brisket, despite the fact it is a cat and takes direction from no one. Understandably she runs from him to Bradley, then to the cat, then back to Jake, then takes turns running to and around each dog and prancing playfully, like she expects them to play with her.

                “I’m going to give them the release signal and it’s going to get chaotic, but just trust me okay? They’re well trained.”

                He believes it, but sure enough in less than a second there’s barking again, six dogs suddenly all barking and then they’re running and Brisket is chasing after them and Bradley grins at him.

                “I gave them the signal for outside. Brewster is too big to not be well trained, and he generally gets all other dogs quickly following his lead.”

                “What kind of dog is he again?”

                “A Leonberger. He was surrendered to a local shelter because the owners couldn’t afford to keep him. He eats a lot. He went unadopted because of the costs associated with feeding him, raft of potential health issues as he aged and because he had zero training. I’ve had him for five years now.”

                “He’s massive,” Jake says, and he knows he’s stating the fucking obvious but when Bradley had said he had just the one big dog, he had never imagined this. He’s pretty sure Brisket is the size of one of his paws.

                “Yep. But as I said, he’s very well trained. I work with him every day as well. Come on, I promised you dinner.”

                “You cooked?”

                “I did, but it’s only one of the five meals I can make, so don’t go thinking I’m accomplished or anything.”

                “As long as it’s edible.”

                He takes the offered beer, watches as Bradley dishes out some pasta dish along with some garlic bread and then directs him to sit at a high bench on bar stools rather than at the dining table.

                “We don’t want Brewster putting his mouth into our food, at least up here we have a slightly better chance of protecting it.”

                “I thought you said he was really well trained?”

                “Not when I’m eating food. All bets are off if I’m eating.”

                Jake laughs and just like it did on Tuesday, conversation flows easily. Bradley can follow his work talk easily, obviously used to Navy talk because of Mav, his own work stories are equal parts hilarious and terrifying. He’s attentive, giving Jake his full attention and he finds he likes that a lot more than he thought he would. They finish dinner, Bradley quickly stacking his dishwasher before feeding the dogs. He watches as Bradley holds their attention before giving them the signal that they can eat and he can’t help but be impressed. He’s pretty sure Brisket is only going to have to look at him and he’s going to cave to her every whim. He does try and look like he’s not a complete soft touch in front of Bradley as he feeds her, but he doesn’t think he succeeds.

                They go into the back lawn and throw balls for the dogs, starting an elaborate game of keep-away for about twenty minutes before Bradley offers him dessert. He wants to ask if it’s Bradley himself on offer but doesn’t, instead takes the bowl of fruit and ice-cream and makes himself comfortable on the sofa, apparently safe from Brewster as he’s afraid of the scent of fruit. There’s a collection of boardgames, none of which he’s familiar with so he asks about them and learns that it’s another of Bradley’s hobbies.

                When they’re finished he follows Bradley back to the kitchen, notices it’s much quieter, almost dark outside and there’s no more barking and he looks around, suddenly anxious.

                “She’s just over there…” Bradley says, his lips twitching with a smile and Jake’s not sure if he’s laughing at him or… oh. That’s fucking cute. Brisket is curled up on Brewster, she’s somehow managed to climb up the almost mountain like body and curl up on top of him. He grabs his phone and snaps a photo, and then a few more because one is never going to be enough.

                “She’s all tuckered out… You going to wake her up?”

                Jake looks up at Bradley’s tone, and his eyes are hooded and Jake feels an immediate jolt of arousal spark through him.

                “No… she looks far too comfortable. Think I need to go to bed too…”

                “Yeah?”

                “Definitely. Show me the way…”

…             …             …

                They’ve not talked about what they’re doing, not in the actual physical and practical sense. Not in terms of sex and he’s definitely been raised in a house with the rule of if you can’t talk about it you shouldn’t be doing it. Which actually only goes so far when you really don’t want to share details of your sex life with your surrogate parents, or hear anything about theirs. He does agree in principle though, and there’s only one way to find out. Conversation hasn’t been difficult between them so he doesn’t expect this to be awkward either. He shifts slightly so he can rest his head on his hand while his other hand runs up and down from Jake’s shoulder to his hip.

                “Anything you don’t like?”

                “Uh…”

                “Anything you do like? Or prefer? I’m easy…”

                “Lucky me.”

                “Can I touch?”

                “Yeah…course.”

                Bradley lets his hand rub Jake’s cock through his underwear as he kisses him, enjoys the feel of Jake’s body moving against his hand, body and mouth. Jake’s free hand runs through the hair on his chest, then his shoulders, down his arm before there are blunt nails digging into his ass; then finally a large palm rubs his cock far too fleetingly to be anything more than a frustrating taste before it starts back at the beginning.

                “This okay?”

                “Yeah, look, if you do something I don’t like I’ll say something okay?”

                “And if I do something you like?”

                “Actually, you could work on that a little bit more…”

                He kisses him hard then, grinds their hips together and palms an ass cheek in his hand, holding Jake tight against him.

                “Yeah, fuck…”

                He shifts, pushes Jake back to lie on his back and then straddles one of Jake’s thighs. He runs both hands down Jake’s naked chest, leans down to kiss him again, hands on either side of Jake’s shoulders. Jake looks good, is confident with it, Bradley can’t help but find it attractive. He shifts a little, Jake’s hands are all over, hips lifting up to try and rub against him and Bradley would tease him for being impatient but he is starting to feel the same.

                Their breathing is getting shallower, and he kisses over Jake’s collar bone, licks a little into the slight dip in his clavicle and assumes it’s a little ticklish from the way Jake laughs a little. He runs a hand down Jake’s side, his mouth moving down his chest but his eyes are on Jake’s neck and mouth, muscles taut and mouth open as he breathes harshly. He’s clearly given up waiting for Bradley to pay attention to his dick, has his own hand rubbing himself, occasionally detouring to rub Bradley’s dick as well. He moves his mouth over Jake’s pectorals, sucks gently at one nipple, wanting to know if this is something Jake –

                 “Fucking hell,” Jake exclaims, body jerking up as if electrified and Bradley pulls back immediately.

                “Good or bad?”

                “Good. Do it again …”

                Bradley grins and seals his mouth around his right nipple again and sucks, flicking his tongue over the harder nub of flesh in his mouth and Jake’s entire body arches again and Bradley can’t believe how good he looks. How good he feels.

                “Fuck, why does that feel so good?”

                “Lots of nerve endings…”

                “It was a fucking rhetorical question…”

                He snorts, lowers his mouth back and presses down with his lower body at the same time, wants to give something for Jake to grind against, push him toward climax. Jake is reading his body easily, his hips angling slightly to thrust against the juncture of his thigh and hip, hands both on Bradley’s lower back urging him closer, pulling him down and Bradley lets a little more of his weight press down. The moan Jake lets out is gratifying and he reaches a hand between them and presses harder, feels the dampness from where he’s leaking pre-come.

                “Lube?”

                “No, I like it a little, uh, rough… you go ahead though, if you want…”

                “Nope, I’m all good…”

                His lips are red and swollen and Bradley wants to make him look like this all the time. He runs a finger under the elastic of the underwear and then Jake’s hips are up and he shifts back and out of the way. Watches as Jake pushes them down and he can’t actually get them off with the way Bradley is half-kneeling over him, one thigh between Jake’s legs. He shuffles down the bed. Drags his hands down Jake’s legs, tugs the underwear off before moving back up, placing gentle kisses on knees, thighs and hips before he licks up the length of Jake’s cock, kisses the head and lets his moustache scrape against the skin gently. Jake is shifting, clearly wanting to move more but holding himself back and he’s got far too much control for Bradley’s liking.

                He wraps his hand around Jake’s cock, a little firmer than he would usually, but Jake had said he likes it a little rough. He jerks it steadily, watches as Jake’s eyes squeeze shut, mouth opening in a silent gasp and he keeps going. It’s been a while, but he knows how to multitask and he wants to hear and see what will happen next. Knows getting Jake off is likely going to make him come as well. He settles his mouth over the same nipple he’d sucked before, and it’s a little pink, and he sucks again. The resulting words from Jake’s mouth are nonsensical in between loud gasps for air and what he recognizes as his name. He doesn’t say anything, can’t really, with his mouth busy sucking intently. His hand has sped up and he’s resting a fair bit of his weight on Jake’s leg, partly pinning Jake beneath him and his cock is hard and leaking. One of Jake’s hands is fisted in his hair, holding Bradley to his chest and then his whole body goes taut like a rubber band being stretched before it snaps back and then Jake is coming all over his hand and he gentles the sucking to more gentler licks and swirls of his tongue because it’s most likely going to be a little bruised.

                 “Ungh… fuck…”

                He doesn’t bother moving very much, just shoves his own underwear down enough to take his cock in his hand and jerk himself off, hard and desperate to come, no need to try and make it last longer or hold back. He moves enough to kiss Jake and he feels a hand try to come and help him and while he appreciates the intent it isn’t something that is even a consideration right now, he’s too close and he doesn’t need much…

                “Bradley…”

                Yeah, that’ll do it. He comes with a groan, his come joining Jake’s on his stomach. He rests his forehead against Jake’s neck while he tries to steady his breathing. Their breathing is the only sound he can hear outside of his body, heartbeat pounding in his ears, waits a moment before he lets out a long shuddery breath and kisses Jake on the chin.

                “You okay?”

                “What’s that saying, ask a stupid question?”

                “Get a stupid answer…”

                “Yeah.”

                He grabs some tissues, passes the box to Jake and they wipe themselves clean and he feels fantastic, hopes Jake feels similarly. He kisses him, takes the dirty tissues from his unresisting fingers and lies down beside him.

                “Stupidly okay. You?”

                “Yeah. That sounds about right. Damned good for a first run…”

                “Mmm. Imagine what it will be like when we’ve got a few more test runs behind us.”

                “Always room for improvement.”

                “That’s very true… I’m just going to go and let the dogs out but I’ll be right back. If you wanted to stay that is?”

                “Yeah, staying sounds good. Just… uh. Brisket normally sleeps on the bed with me.”

                “Think she’s found a new bed.”

                “Lucky for me I won’t be lonely I guess.”

                Bradley grins.

…             …             …

2 MONTHS LATER

                He’s running a little late, but not by a lot. He’s messaged both Jake and Mav to say he’s running a bit behind due to a surgery requiring a bit more time. He walks into the restaurant and spies them sitting at a booth near the back, tells the hostess he’s with them and raises his hand in greeting as Mav is standing to give him a hug.

                “Bradley!”

                “Hey Mav, good to see you,” Bradley says, returning the tight embrace.

                “Good to see you too. You’re looking good. This is… Jake.”

                Bradley leans down and gives Jake a kiss, takes his time and licks into his mouth.

                “Hi.”

                “I hope you don’t meet everyone that way…”

                “Only my boyfriend Mav,” Bradley says, laughing. “You didn’t tell him?” he asks Jake.

                “Nope, one of my joys in life is keeping him on his toes,” Jake says, grinning at them both as they sit. Mav is rolling his eyes and huffing, but Bradley can tell he’s a little pleased. At least he knows now why Bradley really didn’t care about him inviting someone else along to dinner.

                “How long has this been going on?” Mav asks, looking between them with interest.

                “Couple of months,” Bradley provides.

                “You move fast,” Mav says to Jake dryly.

                “What can I say? I know a good thing when I see one.”

                “Plus Brisket loves me.”

                “She does have exceptional taste.”

                “Much like her owner. Although don’t you get the names mixed up? Brisket, Bradley and Brewster? There’s definitely a theme there…”

                Jake blinks, looks at Bradley and he just shrugs.

                “We could get a couple more pets and name them Brownie and Bruno and you’d have the whole set.”

                Jake laughs, eye brow quirks;

                “Sounds like a plan.”

[suzukiblu]

If you’re still taking prompts: Stockholm Syndrome and/or betrayal.

"I'm not interested in curtailing your . . . hobbies," Lex Luthor says just a little bit distastefully, like literally saving people's lives is just some kind of pointless timekiller or a random thing to do over a long weekend to stave off boredom. "I don't have any intention of forcing you to move into Metropolis proper or anything similar, either. But I do intend to pursue visitation rights, for what I can only hope will be obvious reasons."

"What the fuck?" Kon asks, staring at him incredulously. "Why the hell would you want that?"

"The fact that you feel you have to ask that makes me want to actually burn down reality," Lex Luthor says with vague resignation, folding his arms. "I want that because you are my soulmate. Which, quite frankly, I am more surprised to discover I have one of than anyone. I was under the impression that I was a sociopath and a malignant narcissist."

"I'm pretty sure the Justice League would agree with that assessment," Kon says, though he's also pretty sure that sociopaths and malignant narcissists do, in fact, still get soulmates. Like, they're still people. "Like, very strongly would the Justice League agree with that assessment."

"Yes, so did I," Lex Luthor says. "So I was rather annoyed when I realized that I'd actually gone and developed a mark. Especially a mark with that crest involved in it. In fact I specifically came here today to inform you that I had no interest in pursuing any manner of relationship with you and would be rejecting the mark, and that I expected that courtesy to be returned."

"What?! Why the fuck did you make me sit through the DNA tests and all this stupid bullshit when you could've just said that?!" Kon demands, staring at him in disbelief. Not that it's not a relief to hear, even if it also makes him feel sick and pathetic, just–

"Because you went and opened that smart mouth of yours and I immediately thought 'well, I suppose it could be worse'," Lex Luthor says. "And because every person of any significance in this organization that I've tried to bully or bribe for access to you quite explicitly told me to go to hell rather than commit what they perceived to be a betrayal of your trust. I actually had to arrange a not insubstantial amount of government pressure to even get in the door to begin with."

Kon stares at him.

"What?" he says blankly.

"I suppose you don't know me well enough to understand what I mean by any of that," Lex Luthor says, tilting his head consideringly before just offering another shrug. "But you will soon enough. As far as visitation, well, we can just work around your schedule for now. When's most convenient for you?"

"The second Tuesday after the heat death of the universe," Kon says. Lex Luthor smiles, looking amused.

"Tuesdays work for me," he says agreeably.

[11thwardtls]

Memory Defrag | TRACK 2 - RECORD A | Azekawa Kinari's Ward Mayor Novel Translation

Warnings and Disclaimers:

This translation is not professionally done and is not proofread. Edits and clean-ups may come at a later date.

Not a 1:1 translation either and some liberties into localization were taken into account.

This novel will contain spoilers for the Ev3ns Main Story: "Chained Up Scarlet".

Appropriate Content and Trigger Warnings will be added if needed.

May be used for quotebots/masterlists etc.

I am not fluent and self-studying Japanese (albeit at turtle speed), this was translated by ear and with the help of a JP dictionary, so please feel free to point out any errors!

CW: Discussions about Death and Terminal Illness

—/—/—/—/—/—

“Raito, Kuguri. I am about to enter my own data maintenance so I’ll be in sleep mode for several hours. 

My breathing and heartbeats may stop, but I should wake up in about five hours after it has begun. 

I may also enter a semi-conscious mode while my memory is being organized,  although this is nothing to be worried about.” By nighttime, Raito and Kuguri have returned so I let them know about this occurrence as courtesy to my roommates.

Neither of the two were surprised about this as they had seen me in a suspended state during self-maintenance several times before. However, as the scheduled time was longer than usual, Raito’s lips curved into somewhat of a frown and asked, “Is everything alright?”

“Sleeping for such a long time as if you’ve died, Plüss? That sounds wonderful, I wonder what kind of pranks I should play?” Kuguri narrowed his eyes and smiled slyly. 

Raito quickly seized Kuguri’s arm. 

“Don’t worry about him, Kinari. I’ll keep a watchful eye.” He said.

As he was approached by Raito, Kuguri displayed visible disgust and shook his arm away. 

Either way, I trust that these two will not harm me, so after I laid down on my bed and entered sleep mode, I went to uncover deep into my memory storage.

Up until now, there lay a box of data that I dared not to open. 

[…Someday, if you ever feel like it, you can use the contents of this box as a sample of emotional data as you wish.] 

A long time ago, the developer… My father said that it was a recorded piece of data I had saved buried deep within me. 

[This storage space will be reorganized. Would you like to view the following data?]

With this message appearing on my retina, I selected [Yes].

Then, I heard a voice.

How nostalgic… It was my Father’s voice.

—/—/—/—/—/—

[It’s finally the weekend, and I can finally be with Kinari[1].]

It was a stronger, a more youthful voice than I had remembered him having. 

One could clearly hear the love in his voice for his young son. 

He seemed guilty that he was busy with work and couldn’t be with him all the time. 

It seems that today was a long-awaited day off, and the raw emotions of the developer, wanting to make his son happy although he himself felt quite lonely, came surging into my own heart. 

An image was then projected into my retina.

The developer was walking with a young, original Kinari, hand in hand.

On the floor of what appeared to be a movie theater, the pair stood in front of a poster for an anime film that just finished its screening.

And then, with a disposable camera of which was popular during the Heisei era[2], they took pictures while simultaneously blending in with the crowd. 

“It was so fun! Papa, that moo-vii[3] was was soooooo amazing!” 

“Wasn’t it hard to understand?”

“I[4] understood everything…! Because I’m smart, aren’t I?”

Seeing his son be so proud of himself, the developer felt a strong, yet warm and painful feeling well up in his heart. This is... ‘love’. 

It’s called ‘Love’. 

I understood that much. 

“Kinari, shall we go eat dinner? It’s time for you to take your medicine.”

“I don’t want the powdered kind if it’s not in ice cream...”

“That’s alright. We can go to a restaurant that serves some.” 

The developer joined his hands together with Kinari and continued to walk away.

Each of Kinari’s steps were small and tiny. In accordance with that, the developer walked slowly to match his pace. 

As they walked together, Kinari began to sing a song that he’d heard from the movie they watched.

He had perfect pitch—it was almost unbelievable that it was a child singing a song. 

“You really like to sing, huh, Kinari.”

“Mhm. When I grow up, I’m gonna become a singer.”

The developer gazed at his adorable, darling son.

In his heart, he had felt the sudden surprise and joy of learning of his child’s dream for the first time. What soon followed after was the feeling of grief, that thought of [This child may never grow up into an adult.], and understanding that as fact.  

[——I will cure Kinari’s illness.]

The developer swore to himself. 

“I’ll definitely make it happen.”

“I don’t want Papa to make it happen, I’m gonna make it happen myself!”

Kinari innocently tilted his head to the side. 

In his pure eyes, Papa[5] had simply said something weird. Once I thought of it that way, it suddenly occurred to me.  

To a boy as young as Kinari, the future is limitless, infinite even. 

The thought of death had not yet dyed his pure heart. 

The developer had the artificial organs he was researching at home in his mind. 

In order to cure Kinari’s illness, he persisted with his self-funded and ongoing research. 

He held his son’s hand, determined that he’d surely extend his lifespan, no matter what. 

“...You were really good at singing the Yokohama City Song[6], weren’t you? Can I request that you sing it for me?” 

When he requested this of his son, Kinari’s face lit up, smiling ever so brightly. 

He started to sing, so overjoyed. 

Even the people passing by turned their heads with smiles on their faces as they listened to the child sing. 

“Papa, do you like this song?”

“I do. It’s even better if it was you singing.”

“Then, I’ll record it on a cassette tape so you can listen to it even at work. Will that make papa happy?”

“Ah, of course I’ll be.”

What came to the developer’s mind was love, kindness and sadness—and a little anger.

Hatred towards the illness that was destroying his child. 

Supporting this is his burning resolve and determination. 

Kinari’s singing voice was then lost in the noise of a sea of people.

—/—/—/—/—/—

And the record of that small family holiday ended right there. 

—/—/—/—/—/—

Translation Notes: 

1 - I think this is already known and established already but Kinari and the Original’s names were spoken the same, but are not spelt the same. Our Kinari uses 幾 kanji, and the original uses 生. 

2 - 平成時代 (1989-2019), the same time period that frequently come up with Chihiro and Tao. 

3 - Baby Kinari speaks in a lot of Hiragana so I purposely misspelled some things he says. Also translated お父さん, into a more childish “Papa”! Following suit, I used easier-to-understand language when Mr. Azekawa is speaking to his son. 

4 - Sorry for another footnote but this isn’t anything particular, he just used ‘boku’ in Hiragana here. I thought it was cute. Oops. 

5 -  Since its our Kinari narrating here, I worded it to match the kid’s speech pattern, even if he said the same old お父さん.

6 - The same song Kinari sings in Main Story SideA-15, and the same song recorded on the cassette tape in B-06.

—/—/—/—/—/—

Directory:

Main Page | TRACK 1 | TRACK 2 | TRACK 3 | TRACK 4 | TRACK 5

[weaponizedhorse]

This post is really long but God I'm pissed

I am now positive this one pharmacy lady is trying to fuck me over whenever possible. I called the pharmacy like over a week ago to see what day I could pick the other part of my pain med prescription and I was told it was the 5th which is today. So I call today today and the lady said "okay yes I see a note here to fill it I will get that started" then she calls me back and says "oh it can't be filled til tomorrow" and "you should have enough til Monday" okay first of all my prescription is not broken up into two parts out of some reason to stop me getting all my medication at once because I am druggie or some shit. And my Dr specifically does not post date the two prescriptions so she wants me to pick them up as soon as I can. I specifically ask to get it in two parts cause your stupid pharmacy never has enough to fill the the entire 140 and now I get 168 so they DEFINITELY do not have enough.

But it's odd to say that I shouldn't be able to get it til tomorrow because when they actually try to fill it and it's too soon I get a text message. Every time without fail. But I didn't get one. This is the second time I have not gotten that text with the same pharmacist. It has never failed otherwise. I was suspicious last time now I am certain she is lying. So I tell her that I didn't get a text message and she says "well I don't know why it didn't send, but you know I'd love to give you your medication" like yeah sure you would.

So I ask if this is an insurance thing or an FDA thing (cause if it's an insurance I will just pay out of pocket I have an FSA I'd really rather not go downtown tomorrow cause we have shit to do this weekend) and she give me some kind of half answer "oh well I don't know blah blah" yes you do know you have that information right Infront of you. Whatever. I hang up and go look at my CVS account and it says my medication has been "placed on hold due to insurance as a courtesy" so I call back and I relay what CVS account says and she says "oh well I don't know the reason it gives blah blah" (yes you very much do cause every other pharmacist can tell me exactly if it's cause of the FDA or if it's insurance) and so I told her I said "I have stuff to do this weekend and the next time my mom would able to pick my medication is on Monday but she works til 7 so and I would have less than half a days medication so I won't make it to that time so if it's an insurance thing I will just pay out of pocket" and

So she says "fine. I can do the 30* for cash." In this extremely curt and shrill voice like she was very upset she was having to do this. Like stop acting like the fucking pain killer police that is not your job. Wanna know whose job it is? My fucking doctor. And this lady is definitely not a doctor.

tbh I don't even think that my insurance won't pay for it. I think that is just the reason she input into the system as an excuse to put my medication on hold and is now running it without insurance to spite me. Because if insurance didn't cover it I still would have gotten a text message.

[come-away-with-me87]

Love & Angst Chapter 10

Chapter 9 here

Warning: Just some more angst and sadness for poor Y/N. This chapter is based on the song "Without a Word" by Birdy.

******

"Stand there and look into my eyes And tell me that all we had were lies Show me that to you it don't count And I'll stand here if you prefer Yes I'll leave you without a word Without a word"

******

You woke up the next morning feeling very groggy, and with a headache worthy of a hangover. You knew the headache was from all that sobbing the night before, though. You went to your bathroom and grabbed some ibuprofen from your medicine cabinet. You remembered you left your phone on Do Not Disturb the night before. You couldn't lie to yourself, there was a small glimmer of hope in you that you would have a text from Shouta saying he made a huge mistake. Alas, that wasn't the case. Instead, you had six missed calls and even more text messages from Naomi. "CALL ME AS SOON AS YOU GET THIS" her last message stated. You knew she loved you and meant well, but you were still processing everything yourself, and didn't feel ready to talk about it yet with anyone.

As a courtesy to your best friend, you did call her, to which she picked up on the second ring. "ARE YOU OKAY, Y/N?!? Boss said you called off for the entire weekend! And that is NOT like you." All you told her was that Shouta broke up with you last night, but you weren't ready to talk about the details yet. You did promise her, however, that you would have her over soon and explain everything that happened. That seemed to appease her enough, and made you promise to talk about it with her soon and not let it fester all alone in your head. You made that promise to her. You two exchanged I love you's, and hung up the phone.

You decided against a shower and even changing out of your night clothes that morning. You went downstairs to make some coffee to see if that would also help with the headache. You had absolutely no appetite, so you didn't bother with breakfast. After drinking your cup of coffee, you went straight to your couch, laid down, and just stared straight ahead at the television that wasn't playing anything. And this is how you were for the entire weekend. You only got up to use the restroom, or to feed your cats. You still had no appetite, but you forced yourself to eat something small here and there so you wouldn't get sick.

You should have had Naomi come over, but instead did exactly what she didn't want you to do; let it fester in your head, all alone. Shouta said that you did nothing wrong, but you had to do *something* to make him break up with you. To fall out of love with you. The thought of that made you feel physically sick to your stomach, and you ended up running to your bathroom to throw up. Still, instead of calling Naomi, you went right back to your couch and laid in the same position. What went wrong? You were so happy and good together. You thought this was it for you; no man could ever make you feel the way he did. But suddenly, he didn't love you anymore. How does that even happen? You just laid there and stayed with these thoughts until it was time to go to bed.

You couldn't call off of your job from city hall on Monday; you had to go back to work and have some semblance of normalcy. You got ready for bed, and once again fell into a restless sleep where you tossed and turned all night. You got up the next morning to get ready for work. Normally, you loved your job at city hall, but today you were dreading going in. Nevertheless, you got ready for your day. You put the absolute minimum into your appearance that day, said goodbye to your cats, as you did every morning, and got into your car to go to work.

Thankfully for you, the workday was uneventful. You got home around 4:30pm, and thought to yourself that you left Naomi hanging long enough after not talking to her [or anyone] all weekend. You sent her a message asking if she wanted to come over that night, and you would explain everything that happened. She readily agreed, and said she would be there within the hour.

As expected, Naomi arrived to your house before the hour was over. The second you opened your door to welcome her in, she gave you the biggest bear hug. You couldn't help yourself at that point; you burst into tears the moment you hugged her back. "Oh, honey..." she exclaimed sadly, "come on, let's go talk." You two went inside and sat on your couch, where you told her everything that happened three nights before. How Shouta unexpectedly showed up to your house, how he seemed indifferent and monotone, how he came to the "realization" that he didn't want to be with you anymore, and worst of all when you asked him if he loved you, his replying that he didn't.

Needless to say, Naomi couldn't stay quiet after hearing all of this, calling Shouta every name in the book. You just let her go on; you knew she was saying all of this because she cared for you. Once she was done, she just looked at you and said, "I'm so sorry, Y/N. You don't deserve this." You just started crying again, leaning into her shoulder and practically soaking her shirt. After that, you two just sat there like that for a while. "Do you want me to stay with you tonight? I don't want to see you be alone," she asked. You thanked her for her sweet gesture, but told her would be okay by yourself. If you were able to get through the weekend, which was treacherous on its own, you could get through the next nights by yourself.

You two talked a little more, and said your goodbyes to each other. Before she walked out the door, though, she said "I mean it, if you need *anything*, I'm here. I don't care what time of day or night it is, I'll be there." You heart swelled up at that statement, and for the first time in three days, you cracked a small smile. "Thank you, Naomi, I love you." "I love you, too, Y/N." You two hugged one more time, and said your goodbyes again. You watched her get safely to her car, then closed and locked your front door. You then got ready for bed, knowing full well you had another restless night of sleep ahead of you. Little did you know, there was a figure keeping out of sight at the end of your street, watching your entire exchange at the door with Naomi.

******

To be continued!

[mariacallous]

Meduza's The Beet: Dispatch from Podlaskie

Hello, and welcome back to The Beet!

Eilish Hart here, the editor of this weekly newsletter from Meduza that brings you long-form journalism from across Central and Eastern Europe, the Caucasus, and Central Asia. If this email was forwarded to you, sign up here to join our mailing list. And be sure to check out last week’s feature about Nagorno-Karabakh’s tragic final act if you haven’t already. 

As you may know, Poland is set to hold a doubleheader this weekend. The ruling Law and Justice party (PiS) has called a controversial four-question referendum for the same day as the October 15 parliamentary vote. Voters will be asked if they support dismantling border defenses and accepting “thousands of illegal immigrants from the Middle East and Africa” — the antithesis of the PiS government’s handling of the border crisis with Belarus since 2021. By all appearances, the ruling party designed the referendum questions to highlight key talking points in their campaign and to undermine their main rival: the opposition Civic Coalition led by former Prime Minister Donald Tusk. However, both the PiS and the opposition have been pushing anti-migrant rhetoric in their campaigns in an apparent attempt to outdo each other in what polling shows will be an extremely tight race. 

And so, ahead of this weekend’s vote, we’re bringing you a bittersweet dispatch courtesy of journalist James Jackson, whom you may remember for his past work with The Beet on a borderless tripoint in Central Europe. This week, James takes us back to summertime in Podlaskie, a province in northeastern Poland that, in addition to sharing a highly fortified border with Belarus, is home to two Tatar villages. As the descendants of asylum seekers who settled in the region centuries ago, Podlaskie’s Tatars are living proof of Central and Eastern Europe’s diverse past — and, boy, do they have stories to share. Moreover, since 2021, these communities have experienced the border crisis firsthand and responded with compassion, distributing aid to stranded migrants and refugees and even conducting Islamic funerals for the deceased among them. I hope you find their story as fascinating as I did.

Dispatch from Podlaskie

In Poland’s Wild East, Tatar culture is alive and well 

By James Jackson

There’s something ethereal about driving through the vast Polish region of Podlaskie in the summer. Best known for its bison and Żubrówka Bison Grass Vodka, this is Poland’s own Wild East, a frontier province along the reinforced border with Belarus. Yellow corn fields and seemingly endless rows of green pine trees punctuate its wide-open blue skies. Locals drink a moonshine called duch puszczy, “the spirit of the forest.”

Podlaskie even boasts its own historic horse-riding warriors, the Tatars, one of Europe’s oldest and one of the world’s most northern Muslim populations. With their wooden houses of worship, the Tatar villages of Bohoniki and Kruszyniany have the air of a little mosque on the prairie. Their cemeteries boast gravestones inscribed with novel-sounding Polish-Muslim names like Aisza Poltorzycka and Mustafa Bogdanowicz, alongside flourishes of Arabic and a smattering of Cyrillic lettering.

Kruszyniany Mosque, August 2022

GRZEGORZ GAJEWSKI / ALAMY / VIDA PRESS

JAMES JACKSON

Painted wooden shutters on a wooden house in Kruszyniany. June 2018.

EDWIN REMSBERG / ALAMY / VIDA PRESS

Crimea’s indigenous Tatar population may be larger and better known today, but the Lipka Tatars were Muslim islands in interflowing Catholic and Orthodox seas spread across Poland, Belarus, and Lithuania before modern statehood. There are around 2,000 Tatars still living in Poland today, half in Podlaskie’s Tatar villages and the others scattered to the cities.

‘We don’t feel like outsiders’

In the Western imagination, Central Europe isn’t known for its diversity. Behind the Iron Curtain, everything was communist or Christian, gray with soot, and rife with decaying prefabricated tower blocks. But sitting down over a bright purple chłodnik soup of beetroot, cucumber, and eggs outside a colorful yurt in the Tatar village of Kruszyniany, these preconceptions seem far away. 

As both the nationalist government and catch-all opposition take aim at migrants and refugees from the Middle East and Africa ahead of the parliamentary election on October 15, the Tatars serve as a reminder of a diverse and tolerant Poland that can sometimes be hard for modern observers to recognize.

Dżenneta Bogdanowicz runs a local restaurant and a visitor’s center with her husband. The Bogdanowicz family received this land hundreds of years ago as a gift from the legendary Polish King Jan III Sobieski for bravery in the Battle of Vienna. This battle looms heavily in nationalist myth-making as a time when the Polish Winged Hussars saved Christian Europe from the Turkic hordes of the Ottoman Empire. Some would perhaps rather forget that they fought victoriously alongside Muslim Tatars, just like they did in the Battle of Grunwald to throw off the yoke of the Teutonic order.

Bogdanowicz is a diminutive, effusive woman with a bowl haircut. As we eat, she chatters away in Polish, her first language. “The Polish Tatar language disappeared in the 16th century. Tatars are military men; they came to the area and married women, but children usually learn language from their mother, so that’s why the language disappeared,” she explains. “Many Tatar tribes didn’t have a common language, so they usually spoke the local language of where they were.”

Bogdanowicz’s family once owned 500 hectares (1,235 acres) of land in what is now Belarus, but it was lost in the great redrawing of Poland’s borders after World War II. Her grandfather fought for Poland in the war, following a family tradition of sorts. When he returned from exile in Britain on his wife’s orders, the Communist secret police hunted him down as a former Polish officer. He was kept in a prison camp in the center of Warsaw before he was executed in the 1950s.

She tells us this before instructing us on how to eat the traditional beef pie — “you cut the top off and eat it from the inside” — that she’s served alongside a babka ziemniaczana, a peppery potato cake with salty pickled cucumbers from their garden.

JAMES JACKSON

The Bogdanowiczs’ hospitality took a bittersweet blow five years ago. “We lost everything in a fire, even historical artifacts and souvenirs,” our host says, pointing to a freshly built wooden house that took the place of their burned home. But well-wishers from across Poland rallied to their aid. “We didn’t realize people even knew who we were, but many came to support us financially and mentally, as well,” she recalls. 

“We don’t feel like outsiders,” Bogdanowicz adds. “Polish people see Tatars as equal citizens.”

The frontier of the Islamic world

“The Tatars are a remnant of an extremely multicultural world,” historian and Goodbye, Eastern Europe authorJacob Mikanowski tells The Beet. With nomadic origins as part of the Mongol Golden Horde, the Tatars were invited to settle in the region by a Lithuanian duke who granted asylum to Khan Tokhtamysh’s clan after they lost a war with the conqueror Timur in 1395.

At that time, the Grand Duchy of Lithuania — which later became part of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth — was home to a wide range of ethnic and religious groups, including Orthodox Ukrainians and Belarusians, alongside Ashkenazi Jewish minorities, who would experience the Jewish Golden Age. Then, at the end of the 18th century, Poland-Lithuania’s more centralized and militaristic neighbors in Prussia, Russia, and the Habsburg Empire teamed up to extinguish this diversity and partition the commonwealth, spelling the end for what was once the largest state in Europe.

Nomadic fighters were an invaluable asset on this western edge of the flat Eurasian Steppe, and the Lipka Tatars often crossed sabers with Cossacks, Crimean Tatars, and Ottomans in service of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania and later the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. In a prime position in the Bogdanowiczs’ kitchen, there stands a crescent-shaped standard bearer their ancestors carried centuries ago to fight for this flawed, unstable, yet precocious European republic.

“Eastern Europe is one of the frontier regions of the Muslim world,” Mikanowski explains. “We shouldn’t see it from just the West; you can change your perspective and equally well view it as one of the northernmost extensions of Islam.” Indeed, some Balkan countries have been Muslim longer than Latin America has been Christian, and Tatars have played a crucial role in Eastern European and Russian history.

The Muslim cemetery in Kruszyniany. October 2018.

TOUCH OF NATURE / ALAMY / VIDA PRESS

This consistent exposure to Islam led to one of the strangest trends in Polish history. From the 16th until the 18th century, members of the aristocratic Szlachta elite (who made up around 15 percent of the commonwealth, which by then they viewed as the bulwark of Christendom) started dressing in the Ottoman style and calling themselves Sarmatians, an ancient term for eastern European nomadic tribes taken from Ptolemy’s Geography.

Even when riding into battle against the Ottoman Empire, these nobles wore curved sabers, Turkic kalpak hats, and colorful Persian sashes. “When [Jan III] Sobieski was defeating the Turks during the 1683 Battle of Vienna, his Polish troops were dressed almost exactly the same way as their opponents,” writes journalist Marek Kępa. 

As the only people able to vote under Poland-Lithuania’s Golden Liberty system (also known as the Nobles’ Democracy), the Szlachta relied on an imagined, ancient-Iranian warrior ancestry. “That was to differentiate the gentry from the peasantry. It was about being better than your serfs,” Mikanowski explains. Some nobles even saw the Tatars as their brethren — with the caveat that, as non-Christians, they were unsaved.

Doing something good

Though the Renaissance-era daydream of Sarmatism eventually died out, the Lipka Tatars did not, and they preserved their own traditions despite the disappearance of their language. 

In the village of Bohoniki, half an hour’s drive from Kruszyniany, a wedding party gathers outside the community center while we wait for Maciej Szczęsnowicz, the chairman of the local Muslim community. As we sit down for tea across from the square brown house of prayer with its subtle minaret and red fence spiked with a crescent moon, the sounds of clapping and accordion music waft over to us, along with the scent of cardamom. The celebrants are dancing in a circle; among them is an older man who looks uncannily like a Tatar Lech Wałęsa.

Maciej Szczęsnowicz

JAMES JACKSON

Szczęsnowicz and his community attracted international attention in 2021 after Alexander Lukashenko’s regime tried to send tens of thousands of migrants and asylum seekers over the Belarusian border and into neighboring Poland. A humanitarian crisis ensued, with Polish border guards carrying out unlawful and sometimes violent pushbacks. The Polish government accused Minsk of waging a “hybrid war” and declared a state of emergency along the country’s eastern frontier, barring access to journalists and activists. 

Szczęsnowicz, however, got permission from the Polish authorities to help the migrants, and he was one of the very few allowed to enter the tightly controlled border zone. Together with his community members, he began handing out 300 meals a day. 

Some migrants didn’t survive the journey, succumbing to hunger, thirst, exposure, or injuries from beatings at the hands of border guards. That November, the Bohoniki Tatars conducted an Islamic funeral for 19-year-old Syrian Ahmed al-Hassan, who reportedly drowned in the river that runs along the Polish-Belarusian border. As the Imam read the rites, al-Hassan’s family watched via video link. “We wanted to spread the news that we were doing something good for people,” Szczęsnowicz tells The Beet. 

Despite the bureaucratic hurdles in getting permission from embassies and the Polish authorities, Bohoniki’s Muslim community has held eight more funerals since then, burying the dead on the edge of their cemetery. The most recent ceremony took place in January of this year. 

“They found him close to the Białowieża [Forest]. His brother came for the funeral, and so did the ambassador of Iraq,” Szczęsnowicz recalls. 

Imam Aleksander Bazarewicz (center) says a prayer during the funeral ceremony of a 19-year-old Syrian refugee who drowned in the border river trying to get to Poland. Bohoniki, November 15, 2021.

WOJTEK RADWANSKI / AFP / SCANPIX / LETA

At least 49 people have died since the border crisis began, and more than 200 others are still missing. One body was found with a piece of paper that had the address of the Bohoniki community center written on it, Szczęsnowicz says.

The response to the funerals hasn’t always been positive, however. Szczęsnowicz has even received death threats, as well as offers of police protection.

Polish director Agnieszka Holland’s The Green Border, a film based on the true story of refugees stranded between Belarus and Poland in 2021, has met similar backlash — including from figures in the Polish government. Before the film’s premiere at last month’s Venice Film Festival, Justice Minister Zbigniew Ziobro likened it to Nazi propaganda. (The film won a special jury prize, and Holland filed a lawsuit against Ziobro for defamation.) 

Though the crisis has somewhat abated, the electronic sensors on Poland’s newly constructed border wall registered 20,000 attempts to cross between January and August. 

On election day, October 15, Poles at the polls will also take part in a national referendum, which will ask (among other things) whether they support the “admission of thousands of illegal immigrants from the Middle East and Africa” as part of the European Union’s migration pact. 

The referendum is widely regarded as a way to boost turnout ahead of a tightly fought race where both sides have used immigration has as a rhetorical chess piece. How Poles respond may show how much of the commonwealth’s legacy lives on today. As loyal Muslim defenders of Poland and descendants of refugees, the Tatars will be watching.

JAMES JACKSON

That’s all for now! 

For more of The Beet’s reporting from Poland, check out our March dispatch on how Ukrainian refugees were faring there after one year of all-out war. Until next time,

Eilish

[lakmeacademycourse]

10 must-have skills to become a professional cosmetologist in today’s world

A career in cosmetology is one of the most trending careers in the beauty and wellness industry today. Becoming a cosmetologist requires patience, dedication, creativity, and of course knowledge about latest industry trends and the right skills to work on those trends. A professional cosmetologist has got more to do than just a facial, waxing, or acne treatment. We list below 10 must have skills to become a professional cosmetologist.

1. Creative mind:

One of the first and foremost skills to become a cosmetologist is creativity. Professional cosmetologist are creative people who understands the art of beauty treatments and services like facials, hairstyles, makeup, waxing procedures, etc. and can apply it with ease on clients.

2. Knowledge about products and services:

Professional cosmetologists should have up-to-date knowledge about all latest products and equipment being used in the industry. They should keep upgrading their skills and should keep studying and analysing about new products and services that are being launched. Having knowledge about these and sharing the same with clients will increase the customer satisfaction and client base.

Picture courtesy: https://www.orane.com/cosmetology-courses-to-explore-your-career-as-a-professional-cosmetologist/

3. Good communication skills:

Cosmetologists need to master the art of good communication skills. They should be extrovert, social, and vocal about the services they offer to clients. All these will make the client feel comfortable and confident at the same time. They should interact with clients and explain them about the benefits of a particular beauty treatment while performing the same.

4. Great personality:

While having good communication skills is a must, cosmetologists should also possess excellent personality. They should be smart, welcoming, and hospitable. This will bring in more positive vibes to the salon or spa and boost confidence amongst clients. This will also increase the client base with a rise in number of recurring clients.

Picture courtesy: https://www.ogleschool.edu/blog/how-to-ensure-you-and-your-hairstyling-clients-are-on-the-same-page/

5. Physically fit:

Cosmetologists should always be physically fit to work for long shifts. The job of a cosmetologist demands long working hours, random day-offs, and short breaks in between work. Until and unless one is fit and healthy, he or she might not be able to carry out the role of a cosmetologist successfully.

6. Time management skills:

Cosmetologists have several appointments lined up in a day, especially during weekends. Those with good time management skills will be able to fix appointment smartly and dedicate sufficient time to deliver service to each client. They should ensure that clients do not have to wait for a long time to avail a service.

7. Proficient in using beauty tools:

Cosmetologists should be skilled to use basic as well as advanced beauty tools. This is because the job of a cosmetologist extends beyond basic hair spa, bridal makeup, and facial to anti-ageing treatment, high-definition makeup, skin detoxifying treatment and pigmentation treatment. And all of these require use of advanced and sometimes complex makeup and beauty tools.

8. Visualization skills:

Professional cosmetologists should have excellent visualization skills when it comes to applying makeup or doing a haircut. They should be able to visualise a hairstyle or a makeup based upon their clients facial features and overall appearance. This way they will be able to deliver the best makeup or haircut to clients.

9. Industry awareness:

One of the vital skills to become a professional cosmetologist is to keep updating oneself with latest trends of the beauty and wellness industry. They should constantly read, research, and attend workshops to hone their existing skills and upgrade themselves with latest industry-oriented beauty products and services.

Picture courtesy: https://www.freepik.com/premium-photo/professional-cosmetology-young-woman-cosmetologist-standing-near-her-female-client-while-talking-about-beauty-procedures-showing-cosmetology-medicines_8676517.htm

10. Mental stamina:

Cosmetologists face clients from various walks of life. Each of them have different temperament. Therefore, as professionals, cosmetologists should be mentally strong to handle various types of clients. There can be some clients who are impossible to please. In such cases, cosmetologists should stay patient, listen to the clients’ problems, explain the pros and cons of a particular service or product and provide the same effortlessly.

To become a professional cosmetologist, one must be also pursue the right course in cosmetology. A professional course in cosmetology grooms students on all these aspects and make them industry ready.

[buzzerbeaterbin]

Like clockwork, I always manage to come down with some sort of respiratory illness every February and September ish; this time around however my body has endured some weird PMS, GI, and UO (my attempt to spare those in my circle who are not in medicine and do not have the same TMI-threshold) symptoms all month and starting Sunday I've been dealing with a feverish, achy kind of malaise with a nonexistent appetite for food or water. Not the strongest comeback after a month of an intense anxiety/adrenaline high (my second exam of the year was hell in ways I won't bore anyone with), but I am grateful for remote access to my education in the meantime 🙏 I just hope I'm able to not mess up my sleep schedule too much, considering I knocked out for hours in the early evening today and find myself writing this at 3am.

To state the obvious and expected: school has been exceedingly difficult. Not necessarily in a bad way though, at least all the time? I am constantly flipping between resentment towards the unreasonable pacing of a medical school education and feeling blessed and willing to probe about everything I learn about**; there's no shortage of academic and even existential enrichment these days, and as a kid who never took school as seriously as they probably should have, I'm holding on tightly to the opportunity to prove to myself that I can be the intellectually curious human I've always wanted to be. In short, these days have been an extension of last year - the arduous yet rewarding process of learning, period; about cells, the trajectory of an organic molecule in our livers, the phenotypical presentations of certain enzyme deficiencies, and the hardest one as of late - about how to maintain my sanity while being tested over and over again.

As I've been carrying the weight of this mental load, movement (in any form) has unfortunately been largely on the back burner. I'm hoping to never have to go a full week without at least fitting in some maintenance weight lifting, if not progressive overloading, but being sick this week might get in the way. The good news is I think I've nailed down a daily routine that I can start sticking to once I'm back in person?? I have one more true P/F exam before I'll start being tier graded (honors/high P/P/F), so the pressure is on to really figure out my strategies this time.

Godspeed to everyone working towards a time sensitive, stress inducing, energy draining or fate controlling project/goal/milestone right now - we're all in this together <3

10 things that have kept me nourished recently (I love fall):

CONCORD GRAPE SEASON YAAAAAAA (pictured above - NOT JUMBO BLUEBERRIES tho I have a soft spot for all fruits ofc)

Peanut butter chocolate chip larabars; I have adam tcharni to thank for introducing me to these

a ton of veggie-saturated japchae, porridge, and japanese curry courtesy of my mom but all very simple dishes to cook up as well if anybody needs meal inspo

finding this chocolate and miso banana bread recipe and making plans to bake it w a friend this weekend

planning a mid-autumn/chuseok potluck for this weekend to celebrate w my fellow asian american classmates! excited to gather and bool

The healthy minds (thank you ryan) and balance apps - both have built-in gameifying features that encourage a regimented approach to meditation in the same way that a lot of fitness apps do

seeing matthew's decorated spooky apt and watching season 4 of love is blind together as a mental pacifier before bed

deep cleaning/sanitizing my own apt

finding a volunteer opportunity for a trick or treat program the school hosts for the city kids

A very long but very needed talk with my brother who imparted tons of his invaluable wisdom

**Our existence is made up of long ass codes, created by strings of sugar, phosphate, and nitrogen-rich molecules. These codes are used to make proteins. But where the hell, then, does sentience come from??

[moodswingsabz]

As I stood drinking a warm can of beer in a car park in Livingston, wondering how long it would be before the traffic would dissipate to a level where it was worth attempting the journey home, I knew one thing - the Cinch was back. Due to some horrendous traffic, it had been a rushed and cramped journey down the road, my arse numb and hips on fire by Stonehaven, only to be treated to a Dons side frustrated by a home team playing a brand of football that really should be illegal. I don’t want to get into criticising oppositions tactics or performances and in some ways I almost respect the siege mentality Livi have adopted in the face of their financial woes but make for an entertaining game, it did not and what was worse, it felt like Aberdeen played into their hands a little too readily. I’ve seen in the days since the match speculation that this was to protect a makeshift defence and to try and force the action on the horrendous Spaghettihad surface but with every long ball, it seemed more like it would inevitably prove to be fruitless and the Dons supported filtered out the Tony Macaroni Arena as frustrated as Lee Johnson when struggling to come up with his latest unhinged analogy.

Let’s look at some positives - a point on the board and a look at some of the new recruits with Slobodan Rubezic looking like the no-nonsense, albeit slightly rash, solid centre back we had hoped for and Nicky Devlin with a committed performance on his return to his old stomping ground, with a little bit of shit-housery thrown in to boot. Had this result come at a different point in the season and without this weekend’s fixture ahead of it, it might well be viewed as a good point on the road but with the first match at Pittodrie as tough as they come in the SPFL, it looks like an opportunity missed. Today’s announcement of the incoming left back James McGarry and Alan Burrows assurances that more deals are being worked on provide some hope but for many may only paper over the notion that the current squad isn’t strong enough to match the aspirations that have been set out, on several different fronts, for the season ahead. For now, we will have to wait and see how the recruitment goes and hope that Angus MacDonald and Rhys Williams make their way back from injury sooner rather than later but it leaves a lot of questions ahead of a huge test this Sunday.

So, let’s look at the Celtic game. There are probably few Dons fans who can attest to this, but it was actually matches against Celtic that first fully sparked my interest in becoming a fully fledged supporter and in fact two of my first ever three Dons matches were victories against Celtic. The first came at Celtic park in the 2014 Scottish Cup with Pawlett and Anderson scoring to give the Dons a 2-1 victory and then the following Tuesday evening I saw Aberdeen, at home this time, again trump Neil Lennon’s Celtic side 2-1 with a blistering Jonny Hayes strike and an Adam Rooney header giving me the belief that everything was going to be totally great forever. In fact, I even got to relive the glory immediately after in Archibald Simpsons where the whole game was shown on a projector courtesy of BBC Alba, with goal celebrations in the bar to rival the ones in the stadium. Needless to say that since then I have shared the frustrations of the Aberdeen support with many difficult games against the Glasgow side, with a stream of Cup semi-finals and finals being particularly agonising.

This weekend we face a Celtic side somewhat in transition. Their opening game saw them concede two goals, looking perhaps slightly less solid in defence than the blistering Ange Postecoglou team of last season, however they now have a familiarly frustrating face at the helm in Brendan Rodgers who’s previous incarnation of Celtic, the Dons (and most other teams in the league) found it incredibly difficult to overcome. We can only hope for more teething problems for the opposition and that a near (or completely by Sunday) sold out Pittodrie crowd can come together along with quality in the home side and see us through to finally getting some sort of result against the league favourites. By midday Sunday there will be a great sense of elation and joy at being back in our home ground after almost three months, nervousness, excitement and a nervous excitement for the next 90+ minutes, a huge queue for macaroni and black pudding pies and a real hope that at this early stage of the season, Aberdeen can put in a performance that reignites the excitement that has been building around this season! 

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day. Welcome to the working week although, for those of you working in the NHS, welcome to just another day.

My weekend was very enjoyable! For a wide variety of reasons. Actually, I always enjoy my weekend. Whether I’m doing something or nothing, I enjoy my life. My life is good.

Friday was a very long day! I was up before 6.00, scheduled to teach from 9.30-12.30, then I had planned to help a student with his podcast from 1.00-2.00, but then the school asked me to cover another lesson from 4.30-7.30. So, when I eventually got home just before 9.00, I was cold, tired and hungry but, thankfully, my house was warm and there was Chinese food waiting for me.

I’m not well. I sound a bit like Barry White. Got a bit of a cough and a cold. More like Barry Green! Thankfully, the radio show went well. Many thanks to everyone that listened to the show live and those that will listen to it on MixCloud. The Letter M (Pt. 11) is this Saturday at 1.00 p.m.

On Saturday evening, The Trouble and I attended a 90th birthday party. The father of GaryColonel Henry. 90 years old? Crikey, if I make it to 70, we’re having a big fuck-off party! If I make it to 80, you are ALL invited! When I first met The Trouble in 1982, she was part of a lover’s rock called Prediction, which is also when I first met Gary. Because they were brilliant, I began managing the band soon after and, many years later, Gary and I wrote most of the songs on the second Dazzle album, so we’ve known each other 40 years and been through a lot together. It was a pleasure to catch-up with old friends and hear lots of them grown folks, old time reggae tunes. Delicious catering courtesy of Angie’s Kitchen, who gave me some take away boxes, which I will eat today!

On Sunday, The Trouble cooked-up a storm and we actually entertained Sunday lunch guests. Most Sundays, we do a huge fry-up but, this week, we got rice & peas, stewed chicken, macaroni cheese and BBQ ribs. Yes, yes, I know. I am spoilt rotten. During Sunday lunch with some of The Trouble’s cousins, we were talking about Caribbean people reaching 90-plus, and they agreed it was probably due to more ‘natural’ remedies (such a soursop and cerasee) being dispensed, as opposed to yet another drug prescribed by the local GP.

My diary has suddenly gone barmy but there is lots to look forward to. We are down in Hove this weekend, I am spinning tunes at a wedding on May 27th and joining the Bank Holiday party at The White Lion (Streatham) on May 28th. We have one dinner date on 31st and another dinner date on June 3rd, it’s The Trouble’s birthday on June 11th, ‘The A-Z Of Mi-Soul Music’ is coming live from Summer Soulstice on June 24th and then I’ll be doing the Mi-Soul ‘Concert At The Castle’ event in Windsor on July 9th. ‘Let The Music Play’ is back at Cinnabar (Stevenage) on August 27th and, at some point in September, we need to go to Jamaica for a family wedding!

Sad to hear about the death of Dave Brown, presenter of the soul show on BBC Radio Kent for many years. First met him in about 1982. Back in the day, before the internet, for the good folk of Kent, Dave was their essential guide to the newest soul, funk, jazz-funk and disco releases.

The only problem with the 90th function was that it was held in a five-a-side centre, with guys playing football long into the evening. Needless to say, the male toilets were disgusting! What is it with men and toilets? All three stalls were clogged with toilet paper. Parents: do the world a favour and teach your boys how to use a toilet! How hard is it to take responsibility for your waste? Flush two and three times, if necessary. It’s not complicated.

Probably the funniest thing on Sunday morning was people on my timeline going, “Eurovision was rubbish!” Erm … Eurovision always has been rubbish and always will be rubbish. It’s a flawed concept. It makes ‘Naked Attraction’ look like good television!

Have a marvellous and momentous Monday. I love you all.