#it never got the sequel it deserved

[the-force-awakens]

not to talk about sw in not a totally positive light (it's not even a criticism, precisely, its just something I'm contemplating), but I've been thinking about the recent string of shows (mando s3, kenobi, and ahsoka) and I am beginning to wonder if Disney/Lucasfilm vastly misunderstood the backlash to the sequel trilogy, because....they keep rehashing plot points and emotional beats from those movies.

And okay, sure you could say it's also to help build up the timeline and show how the FO rise, but it also feels a little bit like they're taking the safest route and just...copying and pasting those things into stories with characters that are (almost) universally loved (Din, Grogu, Ahsoka, Obi Wan) — and combined that with the near radio silence of anything about the sequel trilogy characters, across the smorgasbord of Star Wars content? I really think they're steering clear (aside from the Rey movie they announced) of anything to do with Rey, Finn or Poe because they think they're why the movies weren't popular. And that's... exactly the opposite of the sentiment I've seen in this fandom, but I also know exactly why they have that impression and I hate it.

[wayfaringauthorofficial]

I'M ON AO3 NOW!!

[sugarsugarmp3]

looked in zlib bc i was curious and found there’s 3 sequels to a book i was obsessed with when i was like 11. i know what i’m reading tmr

[ilyrafe]

𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: brief sexual innuendo, rafe being a softie!!!!

word count: 2.6k (i *might* have gotten carried away i'm so sorry lol)

a/n: this is a sequel to late night and also based on this, so thanks @keziahcore ! your mind is literally everything!

it’s almost like a sixth sense.

rafe feels your absence from the bed, and immediately becomes agitated. he turns on the lamp next to his bed and looks for any sign that you’re still there, and finds your small handbag on the armchair, which makes him just slightly relieved. 

when he looks at the clock, he sees that it is almost two in the morning. the bathroom door is ajar and the lights are off, which means you’re not there. before he can leave his room looking for you, you return, holding a glass of water, wearing only his shirt to cover yourself up.

“where were you? why did you leave me here?”

he can’t control this agony, this anguish that always catches him off guard when he finds himself alone. he can’t help feeling like a time bomb, ready to explode at any moment. the smallest things you do seem to trigger him massively, and he hates that. he hates that he ends up being rude and harsh to you, because you’re always so understanding and sweet.

even he knows he doesn’t deserve you.

“i was thirsty and went downstairs to drink some water.” your tone is sweet and calm, which makes him feel like shit.

his face changes, as he seems to calm down. you didn’t leave him, you just went to get some water. you’re there, your stuff is there, you’re not going anywhere.

“next time, leave a glass here. i don’t like it when you do that.” he says in a much softer tone, but he’s still upset that his sleep got interrupted.

“do what? get hydrated?” you joke, trying to lighten up his mood.

he rolls his eyes and huffs. don’t make him tell the truth.

“go back to bed. i’m tired, alright? i had a long day.”

“actually, i was going to read a book. i’m not sleepy and i don’t want to lie down right now.”

is it so hard to understand that he wants you to be close to him so that he feels safe enough to get a decent night’s sleep?

“you can read on the bed.”

“you won’t mind the lamp on?”

“no, just get the damn book and come back to bed.”

you laugh and nod, picking up the book from his desk and following him to his bed. rafe gets to his spot and as you sit down, he places one hand on your bare thigh and falls back to sleep almost immediately.

while he dives deep into his necessary rest, you start reading. it’s that book, in cold blood by truman capote. you don’t know if rafe is a reader, he never really talks about books with you.

every once in a while, you look down at your thighs to see his hand, firmly holding you, to make sure you won’t leave. this small gesture makes you feel stupid. stupid to believe he might feel something other than lust for you. rafe makes you question your beliefs and that itself makes you feel overwhelmed.

sometimes you want to leave, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. and you have tried countless times. he’s good for you in the same intensity he’s bad. to say you’re scared to ask him what you are would be an understatement, but you just would like some clarification, because you don’t beg the people you’re casually fucking to stay the night almost every night and throw a tantrum when they leave to get some water.

deep down, you know you’re more scared to hear you’re just an easy fuck. at this point, this would tear you apart.

being with rafe is a challenge. it’s like running a marathon you know you will not get to the finish line, and yet, you keep running.

when it’s almost four in the morning, you close the book and turn the lamp off. finally, sleep comes to you, and you settle into his bed, still holding rafe’s hand, which never left your thigh. with the touch, rafe wakes up, and this time he is no longer agitated.

“sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” you say, as you snuggle into the mattress.

“you- what time is it?” he asks, adorably confused and sleepy.

“it’s almost four.”

“and you’re going to sleep now?”

“yeah. go back to sleep, it’s early.” you say softly, placing a hand on his cheek, and he complies, pulling you close.

(...)

rafe’s alarm clock rings promptly at seven in the morning. he turns it off and goes back to his previous position: hugging you.

your hair smells like coconut and your skin is always soft. he never wants to not be touching you. it’s like your body was made to be next to his. for some reason, just your presence is enough to make him feel calm and at peace.

he places the softest kiss on your shoulder, enjoying the quietness that only early mornings can give him. the sweet sound of birds chirping outside makes him forget about everything else. rafe only has you in his mind (and in his arms).

you wake up and soon turn to face him. rafe has the most adorable sleepy face, and you might never stop melting over him. seeing him up close will never not be amazing. he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. he probably has the most beautiful shade of blue in his eyes.

“go back to sleep.” he whispers.

“‘m not sleepy anymore.” you mumble as you rub your eyes, which rafe finds captivating. “hi.”

“hi,” he smiles. “you only slept for three hours, sleep some more.” he insists, and you feel a tone of concern in his voice, but maybe it’s just your sleep giving you that impression.

“i’m okay, rafey.”

rafey. he hates that stupid nickname, but when it comes out of your mouth, he wants to legally change his name to it.

“you’re gonna be tired.”

“no, i’m not. i don’t normally sleep a lot.”

rafe frowns not because he’s confused - he obviously isn’t. he’s just not liking what you’re saying. he doesn’t like the idea of you struggling with whatever that may be. rafe knows damn well how bad it is to be sleep deprived, he doesn’t want you going through that.

“you have insomnia?”

“i guess i do,” you shrug. “i don’t really know. i just don’t sleep a lot. i wish i did, though. i get so jealous when i see you sleeping for hours on end.” you smile sweetly at him. “you’re so relaxed. must be nice…”

you let go of rafe after leaving a timid kiss on his lips, and stretch before getting up and going to his bathroom to start your morning routine.

after a quiet breakfast, rafe gives you a ride home, and he can’t hide his concern about what you said.

“i’ll see you around, yeah?” you tell him, with the sweetest smile you always have.

“of course. uh, about that sleep thing… if you need help with that… i’m here.”

“rafe, i think you might be a sex addict.” you joke, really not understanding what he meant. he isn’t talking about sex. the one time he isn’t talking about sex, you don’t get it.

“well, i’m just one call away.”

you chuckle and intend to kiss his cheek, but rafe is quick enough to turn his face and make you kiss his lips. you laugh at his antics.

silly rafe is your favorite. if only other people got to see this side of him.

he watches you leave his car and get inside your home. the strange feeling of loneliness comes back almost immediately, but it gets him thinking. it has to be some sort of irony that the person that quite literally helps him sleep isn’t sleeping.

(...)

only two days have passed and rafe already needs you to spend the night at his house again. he is so tired and exhausted. he takes out his phone and quickly types a message.

rafe: are u busy right now? can i pick u up?

you don’t tend to take long to respond to his texts, but this time, an hour goes by and nothing, so rafe starts to feel that unbearable anguish again, and starts to think that you left him and that you found someone better to spend you time with.

impulsively, rafe facetimes you, and you answer. from your face alone, he can see the tiredness in your eyes. or rather, in your dark circles. you’re in your bedroom, which makes him feel calmer.

“hi, rafey. sorry, i just got my phone.”

“what are you doing?”

“i’m studying for my exams.”

“i just wanted to know if i could pick you up.”

“i’d love to,” you smile. “but it’s not a good idea, i need to study and i have a mountain of books to read until tomorrow if i want a good grade, which i do.”

“you’re tired, you should rest.” he advises, visibly worried.

“nothing a can of red bull can’t fix.” you say showing him the can.

“y/n, please go to sleep.”

something about his request makes you angry. maybe it’s the stress, or the fact that this time rafe is right.

“rafe, you’re not my boss. i need to hang up, i got shit to do.”

before he can protest, you hang up the call, and surprisingly, rafe doesn’t get angry. this is what it’s like when he’s sleep deprived.

as always, rafe wants to take control of the situation, so he puts on a hoodie, grabs his car keys and leaves his house to go to yours. it’s late at night, and rafe knows your parents are probably asleep.

the path is short, and soon he arrives in front of your house and the light is on in your bedroom, which tells him that you are still up. carefully, rafe gets out of his car and walks to the back of your residence, and climbs the wall, always making sure he doesn’t get caught by anyone. finally, rafe gets on the small balcony of your room and sees you surrounded by papers, books and notebooks. it’s a mess.

he knocks on the glass door, which startles you, but you soon calm down when you see it’s him. you almost run to open the door, but your face isn’t the happiest.

“what are you doing here, rafe?”

“nice to see you, too.” he ironizes as he steps inside your bedroom. “i have a proposition for you.”

“i’m so not in the mood, rafe…”

“listen to me.” he says. “i’ll… i’ll help you out with this stuff, as long as you let me help you sleep.”

“i don’t wanna have sex.”

“i’m not talking about sex.”

oh.

“you mean… sleep? like, really sleep?”

“yeah. i don’t like that you sleep so little. you’re becoming cranky.”

you chuckle at the last bit. you can’t stay mad at him, can you?

“that’s a nice offer, rafe, but what do you know about biology?”

“i’ll have you know i was a good student.” he pouts and you laugh. “even if i don’t know what you’re studying, i’ll help you out.”

it takes you a few seconds, but it’s decided. your body is about to give out, you really need to rest. you can’t absorb any more information. a good sleep might even help you learn whatever you need.

“okay.”

rafe smiles and it might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

you begin to organize all your notes and books on your desk and rafe begins to undress down to his underwear, and gets comfortable on your bed. he realizes this is his first time sleeping on your bed, and he already likes the faint smell of rosemary that your bedroom exudes.

you have such a pretty bedroom. the walls are painted in the softest shade of blue, and you have books everywhere. no wonder you’re so smart, you read a lot.

the wooden furniture gives an earthy feel to your room, contrasting with the delicacy of the light blue walls. in the photos of the small mural on the wall, rafe realizes that he wanted to be there, present in the photos, and maybe, in a photo with you. you are always smiling and being hugged by someone, or hugging them. you are like that, you are magnetic.

you finish organizing your things and quickly change into a shirt of rafe’s that you hope he doesn’t recognize. it’s big and comfortable, and it makes you feel close to him when he’s far away.

the lamp next to your bed is on, so you turn off the main light in your room and go to your bed, meeting rafe, and he has the smallest smile on his lips. it’s ironic how having sex and being naked doesn’t feel as intimate as simply sleeping together does.

“are your parents home?” he asks.

“no, why?”

“so i could have come through the door, huh.”

“yeah.” you laugh.

a brief moment of silence sits between you two, as you’re staring at each other’s eyes. rafe is mesmerized and terrified at the same time. this - whatever this is - feels so nice and so foreign. he knows damn well he isn’t one to want to just sleep with someone, let alone climb up a wall to just sleep with someone.

rafe cameron is in love, and he is utterly terrified.

“what are you thinking?” you ask in a whisper.

your blinks are getting slower and slower. rafe begins to run his hand through your hair, combing them back, and touching the skin of your neck and shoulders ever so softly.

thinking about how much i want to be with you and how fucking scared i am.

“nothin’. close your eyes.”

you do, not because he told you to, but because you couldn’t keep them open any longer. 

why do you feel the safest with someone as dangerous as rafe cameron? someone who deals with the shadiest people around, that has anger issues and violent behavior.

that tried to drown his own sister.

why none of that matters when you’re in his arms? are you actually insane?

probably.

(...)

as soon as you wake up, you see your bed empty, and rafe’s clothes are no longer on the floor, where he had left them last night. it was to be expected, but you still feel disappointed. he was so sweet last night.

when you look at the clock, it’s already past nine in the morning, which means you’ve slept, surprisingly, eight hours straight. damn, you really were sleep deprived.

the sound of your stomach begging for food makes you get out of bed.

when you leave your bedroom, you hear the sound of the tv on and get scared. slowly, without making any noise, you go down the stairs, trying to find out if your house has been invaded, but it would be strange, as it is daytime. soon you see rafe walking around your house.

he didn’t leave?

it’s like you’re not even there. you get to watch rafe make himself comfortable in your kitchen, looking for stuff to put on the table. there are two delivery bags on the counter, which means he bought food, but the gesture warms your heart, which was merely shattered.

“the cutlery is in the second drawer next to the sink.” you say, startling him a bit.

“jesus. can you, i don’t know, announce you’re in the room? i almost dropped your coffee.”

you laugh.

“sorry, rafey. what are you doing, i thought you had left.”

“uh, i bought breakfast for y- us.” he says. you look inside the bags and you can tell he ordered possibly everything you have eaten from that place. “c’mon, i ordered that vegan shit you like, your coffee and even a pretzel.”

you follow him to the table and you both begin helping yourselves. this isn’t your first time having breakfast with him, but it does feel like it’s a first.

for the first time, you don’t want to leave him.

i love feedback! let me know your thoughts! <3

[lustspren]

All Of The Lights ft Mina, Sana, Momo.

length: 27,1k words✦

Flashing Lights sequel.

Male reader, Male character x Mina, Sana, Momo.

genres: fivesome, anal, voyeur, hard sex, double/triple blowjob, creampie, double penetration, striptease, oral sex, facefuck, squirt, facial, bi, footjob, titjob, thighjob, butt play, daddy kink, sauna, sweaty sex ✧

✦✧✦✧✦✧

✦✧✦✧✦✧

The stars had aligned. The opportunity had presented itself to you, once again. With a promotion of stratospheric proportions and a long, well-deserved vacation. You had every reason to aim high. Budapest. You had to go back to Budapest. Your body was begging you, the universe itself was begging you. It was an imperative need. That damn place seemed to attract you like an industrial magnet, and you had no intention of resisting that call.

Besides, you had a promise to keep. A promise you had made over a year ago to a gorgeous Japanese girl who managed to win your heart in just three days. You remembered her face every day, and not just hers, but also the girl who had stopped you from getting beaten up in the first place.

You needed them. In the UK you felt incomplete, counting the days and hours. Not living, just killing time. The only way was to go back.

And there you were, in front of that place again. You had to admit that during the flight to Budapest you had an irrational fear that for some reason the establishment no longer existed. But no, it was still there, standing tall, mysterious and elegant. You could also hear the loud music booming just a few meters below. It was still operational, thank God.

And still not a single damn security guard at the door. Who knows how many other poor bastards with less luck than you have already been beaten out.

Your stomach was in knots, but you went in anyway.

Inside everything was exactly the same as you remembered it, except that this time you didn't know what you were getting into, with a mixture of fear, uncertainty and curiosity. This time you knew exactly what you were doing, and as you went down those stairs you could do nothing but think about that girl. Was she still there? There was no reason to believe otherwise, but when you got downstairs you didn't see her anywhere.

Another girl, however, immediately caught your attention. Among all the dancers, waitresses and assistants, she gave off a very different aura and kind of beauty, standing on one of the small circular platforms for everyone to see her dancing to Dua Lipa's New Rules. Her light brown hair ran free, shiny and silky. Slim body, but full of perfect curves in every possible place, covered by a black lace outfit, under which she wore a black top and shorts. And damn, her face was downright a gift from the gods.

The way she moved was hypnotic, mesmerizing, with the energy of a person who was confident of herself and her charms. And bloody hell... those facial expressions were everything. She had every single man's mouth watering. Many offered bills in exchange for touching her, but she only mocked them with an incredulous laugh and a haughty look. You had never seen anything like that before; you were stunned. She…

"You here again?" A male voice said from your left, snapping you out of your trance. “You’re a fucking pain, kid.”

You never thought you’d be glad to see the man you turned around to see.

“And you’re a fucking grouch, Takashi,” you said with a smirk, looking at the burly man who nearly killed you a year ago. He looked better this time, with a visibly more expensive suit and a decent haircut. “Still no security guards at the door?”

“Still not learning Japanese?”

A laugh escaped you.

“Touché.”

“If you’re looking for the bosses, they’re not here right now,” he said, crossing his arms.

You frowned.

“The bosses?” you asked. “Plural?”

“Yeah, bosses. Miss Myoui now runs this club in conjunction with Miss Hirai.”

You knew a lot could change in a year, but that wasn't part of your assumptions. A pleasant surprise, indeed.

"And where are they? Momo was always here."

"It's none of your business, boy!" Takashi pointed at you with his finger. "Wait as long as it takes or fuck off!"

"But..."

Takashi didn't let you finish, he just glared at you and went into the club to do his respective patrol. What a grumpy fucking lad.

With no other option but to wait, you went straight to the bar, this time without any Japanese bouncers to stop you. The girl was still dancing a few meters to the right, but all you could think about was refreshing your throat with something really cold.

There were a couple of not-so-friendly-looking men sitting at the bar, chatting between arrogant laughs. You took the stool as far away from them as possible, not because you were scared, but to avoid controversy over the fact that you were the only non-Asian there.

As soon as you sat down, a cute, slim girl in a sleeveless black dress, with her dark hair down, approached you. The bartender.

"Shitsurei itashimasu ga, go-chūmon wa nani ni nasaimasu ka?" she said, of course, in Japanese.

"Uh..." you scratched your eyebrow. "Do you know any English, dear?"

The girl stared at you with a frown, one elbow on the bar.

"English," you repeated more slowly.

"Oh, eigo!" she nodded quickly. "Little bit," she finally replied.

You sighed. Well, you'd have to be clear and concise.

"Uhm... whiskey?" you asked under her watchful gaze. "Scotch?"

"Scotch whiski?" she asked, and turned to the shelf of bottles to give it a quick glance. "Oh! That one?"

She pointed, thankfully, to a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label.

"Yes!" you nodded. "One, with tonic water, please."

"Hai!"

The girl got to work, with frankly surprising speed. She had your drink ready in less than a minute, without a single hint of error. You didn't remember seeing her a year ago, but she most likely had quite a bit of experience already.

"Thank you very much, dear," you smiled at her once she handed you the drink.

She just smiled back, and after a small bow she went to serve the other customers. So you were left alone with your glass of whiskey, which like a good Brit you knew how to appreciate once the first sip went down your throat. It was just what you needed to relax your body.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed someone sitting next to you. You only saw the shadow, so you didn't know if it was a man or a woman. You, minding your own business, decided not to turn around so as not to attract attention.

"Moka-chan!" the person said. A woman. "Osake wo ippai choudai, onegai. Tsukarechatta!"

She said that last word with a tired tone and a sigh. You frowned and turned your head just a little. This time you managed to see the silhouette, pale and darkly dressed. Was it...?

"Ah! Sana-chan!" said the bartender, who you deduced was called Moka, with a smile. "Sugu ni ne! Asoko de sugokatta yo!"

The girl next to you, Sana, let out a cute giggle.

"Arigato, arigato!"

Her voice was extremely sweet, like a sugary melody made for tired ears. You stared at your glass still full of whiskey, but curiosity had you by the neck, and in the end forced you to turn to look at her, as discreetly as you could.

She was, indeed, the girl you had seen dancing a few minutes ago, and if she looked beautiful from so many meters away, from this distance it was like seeing the love child between two angels. Her gaze was fixed straight ahead, attentive as Moka served her whatever she had ordered, her chin resting on her knuckles.

"Hai, douzo!" said Moka, handing Sana a small glass with a clear liquid that could well have been vodka, tequila, or who knows what. "Uchi no sutā ni ippai!"

Sana accepted the small glass with a nod of her head and a charming smirk. She then took it and, without even thinking twice, drank it all in one gulp before tapping the bar with the empty glass.

"Ah, oishii!" exclaimed Sana, visibly happier.

But what you didn't notice was that you had been staring at her for too long, so as soon as she turned her head slightly, she caught you. You quickly looked back at your glass, and tried to cover it up by taking a sip while looking in the opposite direction. With a bit of luck, she would forget about it and...

"Nee..." she said. "Nani miteru no?"

Shit. The implied question tone made it clear that she was talking to you. You couldn't just ignore her; that would be rude, but you also didn't know how to look at her after you'd been doing it in secret.

"Hm? Matte..." she paused, and you noticed how she leaned forward a little to get a better look at you. "You're not Japanese, are you?"

You sighed and looked at your whiskey, with no other option but to give up.

"You got me, I guess," you replied, and now you looked at her. Bad mistake. That only made you nervous, as she was too close and her beauty worked twice as effectively.

"You are aware of where you are, sweetheart?" she asked.

"Quite aware, yes," you nodded with a chuckle. "Do you speak English?"

"I do, and apparently you too..." she picked up her stool and moved it closer to yours. "Which leads me to think that you are definitely not Hungarian, you are a foreigner."

"What makes you think that I am not just a Hungarian who speaks very good English?" you asked, and took a sip of your whiskey with your gaze fixed straight ahead.

"No one here has that accent," Sana replied with a smirk. "But okay, let’s say you’re actually Hungarian. That doesn't answer the most important question of all..." she moved even closer, her face on the side of your shoulder. "What are you doing here?"

"Why, does my presence bother you?" you asked, glancing at her.

"Not at all, sweetheart," she said, shaking her head. "But I'm surprised you're still sitting here without Takashi-kun kicking your ass."

"Well..." you swirled the whiskey in your glass. "Let's just say I'm not an unfamiliar face to him. I've been here before."

"That doesn't answer my question, in fact it gives me a better one: what did you do that time to not get your ass kicked and why are you back?" she asked, tilting her head to meet your gaze. "You don't seem interested in us dancers... even though you should definitely be interested in me."

"To start off, darling, that's two questions and one self-centered statement," you replied, shoving your hands into the pockets of your windbreaker, then turning the stool around to face her. "That time your boss saved my ass."

Sana frowned and opened her mouth in surprise.

"Momo-sama?"

You nodded.

"Back then Miss Myoui was still a dancer," you said. "I'm waiting for them right now."

"Are you a business partner or something?" she asked.

"I don't remember at what point this turned into an interrogation," you picked up your glass of whiskey on your left and took a sip, looking at Sana. "Anyway, it's my turn to ask the questions now."

"And what if I don't want to answer them?" she asked, shifting her crossed legs.

"Oh, you'll want to answer this one," you said with a smile. "You said I should definitely be interested in you, why?"

"The answer to that question lies in how you were looking at me before I caught you red-handed," she subtly took the glass from your hand. "So you tell me," she then took a sip of your whiskey, her eyes fixed on you.

You looked into her eyes and then away to her now whiskey-wet, tantalizingly kissable lips.

"Because you're a delight. You look like the real thing..." you took the glass back from her and drank from the same side as her. "And I'm sure you must taste like the real thing."

Sana smiled.

"There's your answer. Still, I have one last question..." she took the glass from you, but this time she set it on the bar to stand up and between your legs, her hands on your thighs and her face inches from yours. "Do you want to taste me?"

Having her up close put all your senses on full spurt. Your heart began to beat faster, and her hands on your thighs caused the bulge in your pants to stir as you woke up. You were supposed to sit there waiting for the girls to come, but it was rare to see such tempting Japanese candy like that.

"Aren't you going to get in trouble?" you asked, taking the liberty of putting your hands on that small waist. "You seem pretty famous around here."

"Trouble?" She laughed out loud, as if the question offended her. "I'm the star of this club, I can do whatever I want..." She brought one of her hands to your bulge to give it a gentle squeeze. "Even fuck a cute foreign boy who's maybe too god damn lucky."

"Too lucky, indeed…”

Then she kissed you.

Sana only needed five seconds to prove that she was the hell of a good kisser. Your lips were wrapped in a sensual exchange of saliva, her hand constantly massaging your bulge until your cock was hard under your pants. She was smart; she did it knowing that from the other side of the bar no one could see what she was doing with her hand, so Moka couldn't stop you.

You put your arms around her in the middle of the kiss, delighted to be able to feel that sexy slim body under the tip of your fingers. When you lowered one of your hands to grab her ass she squeezed your cock harder, and as you began to massage one of her butt cheeks she let out a small moan against your lips.

"To give you an idea of ​​how lucky you are..." she said between kisses. "The last time a man tried to do what you're doing..." another hard squeeze to your now painfully hard cock. "He left with broken wrists."

"Ouch..." you said.

"Shall we go to the bathroom? To your place?" she asked.

"The bathroom suits my urge to bury my cock deep inside you better," you replied.

Sana let out a sly smile.

"You're a bold son of a bitch, have you been told that?"

"A couple of times," you admitted.

She let go of you to walk away from the bar, but not before looking over her shoulder at you, indicating for you to follow her. You did so, after taking a last sip of your whiskey.

"Oi, omae!" a female voice called out from behind you, as you were halfway to the bathroom.

You stood very still, staring at the floor. Sana had also stopped to turn around. You knew that voice, more than perfectly. You ended up turning around, very slowly.

Standing at the bottom of the stairs was she. Myoui Mina. As beautiful and graceful as ever. It was the first time you saw her dressed like that, in black shorts, a turtleneck sweater, and a black trench coat with beautiful silver engravings on it, a clear sign of her now well-deserved new status. Her countenance was stern, unyielding. Like that of a supreme empress who knew she could have a mountain moved for her with just one word.

But still, that countenance softened and transformed into something completely new the moment she recognized you.

Mina took slow steps towards you, and you towards her. Instantly she quickened her pace, and a smile formed on both her face and yours. The last few meters she shortened with long strides, until finally, you wrapped each other in a strong embrace.

"I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!" She squealed against your shoulder, her arms wrapped around your neck, and yours around her waist. “I knew you were coming back!”

“I had to, didn’t I?” you replied, and buried your face in her hair to breathe in her familiar scent. “A promise is a promise.”

A few feet ahead, just down the stairs, the woman who had made it all possible in the first place appeared. Hirai Momo looked as sexy and alluring as ever, dressed in a two-piece outfit that looked like a full-body dress, her body as delicious looking as you remembered, only now she had shorter hair.

Her expression was a bit different from Mina’s. Funny, to say the least. She looked like she had seen a ghost, but you still managed to notice small hints of a smile. She was pleased, but she couldn’t seem to believe it as she slowly walked towards you.

“One year and four months, you jerk…” she muttered, clinging to you like a koala to its branch. "You took too long."

"I know, sweetheart, I'm sorry..." you murmured back, rubbing her back with your hand. "But there wasn't a single day that I didn't think about you... and here I am."

Mina pulled away from you slightly, to look you in the eyes up close. She then cupped your face with her soft hands, and without warning, she kissed you. It wasn't something that bothered you at all, of course, but the surprise lay in where she was doing it, not caring what her employees or her customers thought. You didn't care either, that's why you gladly accepted the kiss.

The remorse of conscience, however, made you break the kiss a few seconds earlier than you would have liked. Meters behind you the cause must have still been standing, maybe confused, maybe angry, maybe disappointed, or a mix of all three. You really had no idea.

“Damn, you two can’t wait for a moment of privacy, can you?” Momo asked, standing behind Mina before shifting her gaze behind you. “Soko de nani shiteru no? Ojō-san. Nanika matteru no?”

That last bit was for Sana. You pulled away from Mina to turn and look at her. Sana had her arms crossed, a mischievous smile plastered on her face as she watched you and Mina. That ruled out your previous assumptions; she looked satisfied.

“Oh, nothing, boss,” Sana replied directly in English. She took a few steps towards the two of you, but kept her gaze locked on you. “Definitely not a business partner, huh?”

Mina furrowed her brow, and looked at you and Sana.

“I assume you two have met already.”

“Hai, at the bar,” Sana pointed at it with her chin, her hands behind her back. “Your cute boyfriend was waiting for you like a good boy.”

On your quest to find a place to look without looking suspicious, you met the knowing eyes of Momo, who was watching you with a small, sly smile. She nodded at Sana, which you interpreted as a yes or no question. You just shrugged and nodded, a yes.

“I see,” Mina crossed her arms. “But you two seemed to be going somewhere. May I know where?”

Sana gave you furtive glances.

“Well, he asked me very nicely to show him where the bathroom was,” she replied before fixing you with a look. “Right?”

“Ah yeah yeah,” you laughed. “That whiskey filled my bladder faster than I anticipated.”

That didn’t seem to convince Mina, who raised her eyebrows and nodded slowly to look at you.

"Lucky, huh? Thank goodness our Sana-chan is so kind," she stared at you without blinking, hoping to fluster you so you'd give yourself away.

You didn't know how to respond, so you gave Momo a quick glance to signal her to stop holding back her laughter and help you out.

"Oi, Mina-chan," she finally chimed in, standing next to the three of you. "I really need a seat and a drink, let's go inside."

"You're right, I'm thirsty too," Mina replied without taking her eyes off you. "Will you join us, sweetie?" she raised an eyebrow.

"What do you think?"

She smiled.

"Come on then."

Mina was the one who took the lead. You then looked at Sana, who winked at you once Mina's back was turned.

"Alright, you two," Momo said, standing very close to the two of you. She put one hand on your back and the other around Sana's waist. "I don't like being lied to. Who's going to tell me the truth first?"

"We were going to fuck in the bathroom until you two came along, boss," Sana replied, bluntly, without mincing words, unfazed.

You glared at her, and gave Mina a quick glance to see if she had heard; she didn't seem to have, she was watching you at the entrance to the hallway leading to the office, expectantly.

Momo couldn't help but laugh.

"You work fast, huh?" she looked at you. "At this rate you're going to fuck even Moka."

"Actually," Sana chimed in. "I was the one who seduced him and made him drool all over me. It wasn't his doing, boss."

"Oh my god..." you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. She was only making you look worse with every single thing she said.

"Did you see his cock already?" Momo asked, biting her own lip and looking at you.

"Actually no," Sana giggled and looked at you too. "But I did touch it... and I wanted it deep inside me right away."

"You're coming with us then?" Momo looked at Sana, and you noticed how she squeezed her waist. "You know... we'll drink something, chat, and maybe put on a great little show."

"A great little show?" Sana gasped in surprise. "I'll get to dance for my bosses?"

"With your bosses," Momo corrected, and looked at you. "The dance will be for our extra exclusive customer."

"I see..." Sana nodded slowly, before giving a quick glance to Mina, who was already getting impatient. "His girlfriend won't be upset?"

Momo let out a laugh.

"She's not even his damn girlfriend," she paused to think about it. "Well, not for now at least. But in the meantime he can do whatever he wants. He’s single."

Sana shrugged with her head cocked to the side, showing false innocence.

"Then I don't see why not, boss."

"Saikō!" Momo clapped her hands, grinning from ear to ear. "Follow me then."

You were about to complain about the hasty decision, but held back as you assumed there was nothing you disagreed with. You wanted that more than any of the three of them. The only drawback was Mina; you didn't know how she was going to take it, but you didn't think she was going to put up too many obstacles either. After all, you only had an emotional bond, nothing formal: she wasn't your girlfriend.

Yet. Who knows what was going to happen in those four days.

"Come on, sweetheart," Sana urged you as Momo walked towards the office. She leaned close to your ear. "I'm dying to taste that juicy cock."

Sana pulled away from you with a mischievous smirk, and winked at you before turning around and following Momo. You followed her as well.

To your surprise, the entire office had been remodeled, so nothing was in the place you remembered. The floor, now level and without steps, was made of elegant dark wood planks that made a soft creaking sound under your feet. The famous pole was no longer at the back of the room, it was now near the entrance, in front of the large semi-rectangular shaped couch, where Mina was now comfortably seated, cross-legged, while eating peanuts from a glass bowl.

The ceiling was still as high as before, made of a beautiful wooden facade with warm bulbs embedded in it. On each side of the room extended long, low chests of drawers, on which they displayed objects of all kinds, from books to small gadgets. The walls were decorated with paintings, the most notable one on the back wall. The corners, meanwhile, were adorned with tall plants and a majestic marble statue, representing a swan in full flight.

And of course, there were now two desks instead of one.

"I was going to ask what you were talking about without me, but I don't think I need to," Mina said, seeing Sana enter with you.

You took a few steps forward, carefully observing the entire space. The gold color was everywhere, especially in the details of the furniture and the ceiling. Even the pole seemed to be made of the precious metal. You doubted its authenticity, but with the amount of money Momo handled, you wouldn't be surprised if it was real.

"Sana-chan will be joining us to celebrate tonight, my dear," Momo announced, walking past the couch towards her desk, to set her handbag down.

Sana, still near the entrance, gave a small bow to Mina.

"It's an honor, Mina-sama," she said, her hands clasped together on her belly.

You sat down next to Mina, who immediately offered you peanuts. You grabbed a couple and ate them. The couch was considerably more comfortable than the old one, and the lilac velvet gave it the perfect touch. The only drawback was that the backrest was lower, making it difficult to fully support your back.

“Please call me Mina, sweetie,” she waved her hand casually, leaving the bowl of peanuts on the coffee table. “Come sit with us.”

“Hai!” Sana bowed again, and with slow steps went to sit right next to you.

“What are you celebrating for?” you looked at Mina. “Is that why you were out?”

“That’s right!” Momo appeared again, now with a bottle of chilled champagne in one hand and four glasses skillfully held in the other. “We bought an apartment!”

She set the bottle and glasses down on the coffee table around the bowl of peanuts, then walked past Sana, sitting on the right side of your lap to wrap her arms around your head and hug you. You hugged her back.

"Our dream apartment," Mina clarified, watching as Momo pressed your face into her big melons. "What better reason to celebrate than that? Besides, your return is a good reason too."

"Damn, you've been doing well, haven't you?" you managed to say against Momo's breasts, then turned your face to look at Mina with a smile. "That's great sweetie, congratulations."

Mina smiled back, looking at you with a cute sparkle in her eyes.

"Thanks baby," she leaned forward to look at Sana beside you. "Though you have to give our cute star dancer a lot of credit; she's a money-making machine."

Sana leaned over to look at Mina as well, a proud smile on her face. She took some peanuts from the bowl.

"Thank the horny brained men too, boss, they're pretty pathetic."

Mina and Momo laughed.

"You're certainly not wrong," Mina said. "But I've never been handed as much money as you."

Sana shrugged, munching on some peanuts.

"I'm really good at sweet-talking them, and they seem to have never had any female contact in their life. They drop like flies."

"Sana, cutie, could you pour the champagne?" Momo asked. "I'd do it myself, but I missed my big boy and want to hug him some more."

At this point you felt like you were going to get a crick in your neck at any moment, but anything was worth it to have Momo's gorgeous ass on your lap and her breasts in your face. You had to be grateful for the privileges you had.

"Hai!" Sana nodded, and picked up the bottle as she examined the table. "Where's the corkscrew?"

"Right there," Momo pointed to the drawer of the coffee table. "It's electric, so you won't have to leave your wrist."

Sana opened the drawer and took out the corkscrew, then put the bottle on the table and got to work.

"Honey, sorry for the question," you moved away from Momo's breasts so you could look at Mina comfortably. "But how did you come to run the business with Momo?"

"Well, it's an easy question actually," she looked at Momo. "Do you want to answer it yourself?"

Momo finally removed her arms from around your neck and rested both hands on your right shoulder.

"She's a real beast at negotiating; she's much better with people than I am," she paused to look at Sana as she poured the champagne into the glasses. "As soon as I noticed, I gave her a few tests, and she passed them all with flying colors."

As she finished pouring the champagne, Sana took each glass and handed it to you one by one. You and Momo nodded in thanks.

"Thank you, dear," Mina told her with a smirk, then looked at you. "Well, yeah, I basically went back to college for a day."

"But it was worth it, wasn't it?" Momo raised an eyebrow. "Look at us now, we've taken the club to a whole other level thanks to you joining."

Mina nodded proudly.

"It was totally worth it."

"Cheers to that, girls, I really couldn't be more proud of you," you raised your glass with a smile.

Momo grabbed your face and planted her lips on your cheek. Mina leaned over to you as well and planted hers on the other one.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Momo raised her glass to the center. "Kanpai!"

"Kanpai!" you, Mina, and Sana said in unison, raising your glasses before taking a sip of the champagne.

"Baby, as much as I love having you on my lap, I can't feel my leg anymore," you patted Momo's lower back, your thigh growing numb.

Momo giggled.

"Woopsies, I'm sorry," she stood up from your thigh with an innocent little smile and went to sit on Sana's right. "Blame my big ass."

Mina took another sip of her champagne glass, set it down on the coffee table, and turned to raise one knee on top of your thighs. She then crossed her arms, looking at Sana.

"So? How was your evening, darling?" She raised an eyebrow. "You're in a good mood."

Now the real fun began. You knew Mina wasn't going to sit back and take the answer she got from Sana a few minutes ago; she'd try to get the truth out of her. 

Sana raised her eyebrows for a moment. The question had caught her taking a sip of champagne.

"Really fun, boss," she set her glass down on the coffee table. You still had yours in your hand, as did Momo. "But I was hoping it would be a little more... spicy."

"You've got quite a spicy dance routine already, what do you mean?"

"I don't know," Sana shrugged, then clasped her hands on her knee to lean towards you. "Don't you sometimes feel like your night is missing something?"

Mina frowned.

"Every night since he's not here, why?"

You stared at Mina with a half smile. Apparently you weren't the only one who was feeling that way this whole time.

Sana let out a silly giggle.

"Aw, that's adorable! So you understand how I feel tonight."

"So that's how you found him then?"

"Oh, I didn't find him," Sana said, reaching for her champagne glass. "In fact, if it were up to me I would never have noticed his existence, you already know me. He gave himself away," she sipped from the glass.

The smile on your face faded. You sipped champagne to keep from saying anything. At that moment you met Momo's gaze. She was holding back her laughter again.

"He gave himself away?"

"Yeah!" Sana nodded. "I was minding my own business, ordering my usual sip of sake from Moka-chan, when I happened to notice this…" she leaned over to you and placed her hand on your chest. "cute gentleman gaze!"

You cleared your throat.

"I literally only looked at her for a second because she was sitting next to me and she happened to look back," you said, hoping to maybe clean up your image a bit.

Sana laughed out loud, as if you'd told a really good joke.

"For a second?" she raised her eyebrows. "You looked like you were about to pierce me with your eyes!"

You shrugged, skeptical.

"Your imagination, surely."

"So you met him purely by chance?" Mina asked.

"Hai! Although I must say, it seemed like he wanted us to meet," Sana replied, giving you sidelong glances. One of them went down; you knew exactly where.

Mina looked at you, and it seemed like she also looked where Sana had. She most likely already knew the truth at this point, but she seemed to be playing with you as if she were a cat and you were a mouse.

"Is that true?" she asked, and her knee tightened on your thighs.

You were between a rock and a hard place. You had to tell the truth, but the dilemma was how you were going to do it, whether to disguise it so as not to make yourself look so needy or to cut the crap and tell things as they were.

But fuck it. If you didn't get straight to the point, the only thing you would achieve was to delay the inevitable even further.

"Yeah, I saw her dancing when I got here and she left me stunned," you leaned back, propping yourself up with your elbows on the back of the couch to look at the two of them. "When she talked to me at the bar I jumped at the chance."

A small smile formed on Sana's face as she took another sip of her champagne. She looked only at you, eager for you to spill the beans.

"The chance for what?" Mina asked.

"To take my shots."

You watched Mina's reaction closely. You expected her to be upset by it, but you only managed to catch a tiny hint of a smile. She looked down, then back at Sana.

"You weren't showing him where the bathroom was, huh?"

"Nope," you shook your head, responding for Sana. "You know what we were going to do in there, sweetheart."

Mina didn't even look at you, she was still intent on Sana, arms crossed and unblinking.

"What do you have to say about that, Sana-chan?"

"That his shots hit the mark," Sana downed the last of the champagne in her glass in one gulp, then set it down on the coffee table. "We were headed straight for fucking until you came along, boss."

"Oh, do I have to apologize, then?" Mina raised an eyebrow.

Sana gently shook her head.

"Not at all. I don't think you could have known."

The office fell into a deep silence. Mina and Sana stared at each other without saying a word, and you could perfectly imagine the lightning bolts striking between their heads. However, you didn't notice an air of confrontation, but rather a defiant one.

"Go on, then," Mina broke the silence, after a few long seconds. "You must be eager to get back to it."

"Fuck, it was about time," you heard Momo say.

"Right now?" Sana laughed.

“Yeah,” Mina moved her knee off you and moved a small distance to the left, crossing her legs again. “But I’ll decide when you two stop.”

“Ahhh!” Sana whined, pouting. “How am I supposed to focus like that?”

“That’s your problem, sweetie, not mine. Come on.”

Sana looked at you and, after kicking off her heels, straddled your lap, her hands on your abdomen. She made to lean forward, but stopped to look at Mina.

“Can I at least ask for some music?”

“As you prefer,” Mina looked at Momo. “Would you?”

“I’d be happy to,” Momo nodded, and pulled her phone out of her handbag to connect to the office sound system, set up on four large speakers positioned at each corner of the ceiling. She put on Britney Spears’ Gimme More first.

Sana then turned to look at you again. She smiled and bit her lip, and began to move her hips ever so slowly to the music, grinding against your bulge. After a few short seconds she leaned into you, her hands now on your collarbone, and with her face inches from yours, she kissed you.

Between Sana’s sweet lips and the satisfying rumble of the music it wasn’t hard to enclose yourself with her in a bubble of passion and lust. You wrapped your arms around her small waist, pressing your bodies together as she moved her hips. She cradled your face in her hands, your tongues swirling together until she pulled away to attack the right side of your neck with wet kisses and licks.

Mina’s gaze met yours, and you held it as your hands left Sana’s waist to roam the rest of her body. You touched every corner you could reach, but ended up focused on her pretty ass, which you noticed was bigger and softer than it seemed at first glance. Mina followed each movement attentively to the next, probably eager to see more.

"Damn, they really wanted each other," you heard Momo say followed by a giggle, watching as Sana kissed your neck and face and you groped her ass.

Sana untied the zipper of your parka and opened it to the sides to put her hands under your sweater. She caressed your chest and abdomen with her fingers, then kissed you again and proceeded to take off your upper garments. With your torso already naked, she lowered the kisses to your pectorals and then to your abdomen, where she stayed for a few seconds in which she grabbed the hem of your sweatpants and your boxers and pulled them down together to release your hard cock.

“Oh god, I knew I wasn’t wrong…” Sana smiled, exhaling hot breath against the back of your cock. “This thing is massive.”

The song changed to 50 Cent’s Candy Shop, perfect timing as she climbed off the couch, kneeled between your legs and took your cock in one hand to press it against her lips as she peppered it with kisses; after spreading them all over your shaft, she moved on to licking your tip in slow swirls, until finally she took you into her warm mouth.

You gifted Sana with your first moan of the night. She sucked on your tip gently for the first few seconds, still using her tongue to lick around it. Then her eyes met yours as she slowly lowered her lips halfway down your cock, one hand at your base and the other kneading your balls.

Her head movements were gentle and calculated, soon accompanied by a small series of moans that Sana let out every few seconds that made your shaft vibrate. You looked straight into her eyes, amazed at how they could change so drastically from one moment to the next: first they looked like two cute bubbles, but now they seemed to be able to see through your soul.

She gave you a few more sucks and pulled you out of her mouth, her hand moving up and down your cock.

"You want me to take my clothes off huh?" she asked, caressing your thigh with her other hand. "You've wanted to since you saw me out there."

"Y-yeah..."

"Then you're going to help me with it."

Sana let go of your cock and stood up so she had her back to you. She had taken off her lace dress in a flash, and when she was left in her shorts and top, she leaned on your thighs and sat fully on top of your cock. The song changed to Sock It 2 ​​Me by Missy Elliott and she started moving her hips to the beat, then looked over her shoulder at you.

"Come on pretty boy, undress me," she said, looking at you with those stupidly sexy eyes.

You brought your hands to her waist and let her dance against your cock for a few seconds, but soon you lost patience and pulled down the zipper on the side of her shorts, which you then grabbed the hem to pull down and slowly reveal her ass cheeks. Sana lifted her hips for a moment, and finally you were able to slide her shorts down her legs. Her panties were also semi-transparent black lace, and made her ass look like a real treat. Next was her top, easier to remove than the bottoms. Underneath she was wearing absolutely nothing, but you couldn't see anything until she stood up and turned to kneel between your legs again. They were a pair of tits that were close to perfection: pretty, round and the size of an apple.

Sana took your cock and brought it back to her mouth, sucked it up and down a few times and pulled it out to jerk you off, her eyes on yours.

"Well?" She smiled, her hand moving in a steady rhythm over your throbbing cock. “Am I just like you pictured me naked in your head?”

“Even fucking better,” you gasped, still unable to stop staring at her tits.

She noticed your gaze and reached up to rub your cock against her tits, consequently smearing them with saliva.

“You like them?” Sana giggled.

“They’re so fucking pretty…” you leaned forward to cup and squeeze one of her breasts in your hand. “I want them in my mouth.”

“And I still want your cock in my mouth,” she rubbed your tip against her nipple. “Now what do we do?”

“After I taste your tits you can ride me however you want,” you moved your hand up to her neck and then up to her chin to slide a thumb into her mouth. She sucked on it, “Is that okay with you, darling?”

“Mmmmm,” she sucked on your finger for a few seconds until she pulled it out, “We have a deal, gorgeous.”

Sana stood up to straddle your lap, her crotch pressed against your cock. You straightened your back, and now with that pair of gorgeous breasts in front of your face, you brought your hands to her ass and plunged your mouth into one of them. She let out a cute moan and gently held onto your head, rocking her hips back and forth against your cock with her fingers tangled in your hair.

You spent the next long seconds sucking on her tits and groping her ass. Your hands moved from her ass cheeks to her legs, and back up to rub her lower back. All the while, you licked and kissed her nipples, using your free hand to massage the free breast that you didn’t have in your mouth at the moment. They were a delicious, fluffy pair of tits, and if Momo didn't exist, they would definitely be the best tits you'd ever suck on in your life.

"S-stop it..." Sana moaned against your cheek. "I want that cock inside me..."

"Then put those panties aside and ride me, you little slut," you said against one of her tits.

Sana wasted no time in lifting her hips and bringing one of her hands to her crotch. You felt her pull the panties to the side, your cock now rubbing against her wet folds. She then used her other hand to grab your shaft and straighten it out to align it with her pussy. When she lowered her hips...

"Alright, stop," Mina chimed in, standing up.

Damn woman.

"Ughhh! This has to be a joke!" you groaned, bringing your hands to your face. You had completely forgotten that neither you nor Sana were in charge of what was going on.

"Boss!" Sana shrieked, forced to release your cock. "Don't be so fucking cruel!"

Mina crossed her arms as she stood in front of you.

"I said I'd decide when you were going to stop," she said. "You should have remembered that. Now stand up, girl, we've got work to do."

Sana frowned and turned to look at her. Momo seemed to know what she was talking about, judging by her smile.

"Work to do?" Sana asked.

"Remember what I said about a great little show?" Momo said, and stood up as well. "I think it's time, sweetheart."

"But I wanted to get fucked!" Sana protested. "Couldn't you have picked a better time?"

"You'll get what you want, darling," Mina said. "But on our terms."

Sana climbed off your lap and adjusted her panties, then stood up to face Mina. The bolts between foreheads again.

"Boss, with all due respect, I didn't come in here because you asked me to," Sana said. "I just wanted to do it because I want to have fun. So, if you want me to do this on your terms, you'll have to grant me one wish."

You never thought you'd hear someone speak that way to Mina or Momo, so you immediately feared for Sana. But to your surprise, neither of them took it the wrong way. Mina just smiled and looked her straight in the eyes, steely.

"And what wish could that be, chibi kōrogi-chan?"

"Like I said, I came here to have fun," Sana replied, holding her gaze. "And what better fun than two cocks instead of one? That makes it up to me for taking one of them away the first time."

Both you and Mina were about to protest, but Momo held up her hand.

"We can fulfill that wish," she said. "But again, you're on our terms."

She looked at you and Mina.

"What rules do you want to set for our guest? Not for you, for the other idiot we're bringing."

"He won't be able to touch me. Or look at me," Mina replied, visibly angry. "And I'm being too damn generous because I'm in a good mood today, Hirai."

"Blindfolded eyes and hands tied behind his back, got it," Momo then looked at you. "Anything to add?"

You didn't want to share any of the three of them with some unknown bastard. But seeing as you would keep 90% of your privileges and there was no other option, you decided to give in.

"Condom always. Even for blowjobs."

Mina nodded in satisfaction, her rigid face now a little calmer.

Sana laughed in disbelief.

"You don't happen to want to cut off his balls too?" she asked. "He won't even be able to watch the show."

"You want him to fuck, not watch the show," Mina said. "Why do you care?"

"I don't care," Sana rebutted. "I'd be disgusted if an ordinary Japanese guy touched me."

Momo clapped her hands together in applause, just like a few minutes ago.

"Then there's nothing more to discuss!" she said. "You two go get ready. I'll send for the lucky bastard."

"And what about me?" you asked. "I just wait here with a hard-on with nothing else to do?"

"Hai!" Momo said with a smirk, then walked over to her desk.

"You'll have music, at least," Mina said, stepping out of the couch space to walk to the side of the office with Sana holding her hand. "Any requests?"

"How long will it take?"

"About fifteen minutes if we're being optimistic."

"Aight, give me Supersonic by Oasis, Jigsaw Falling Into Place by Radiohead and..." you thought for a moment. "I don't fucking know, Cemetry Gates by the Smiths. Yeah, that'll do."

"Fine. As long as you don't get drunk in the meantime."

Mina blew you a kiss, and turned with Sana to go through the door to the left of Momo's desk.

Momo, who you heard on the phone just a few seconds ago, came back to you.

"Takashi will bring the poor bastard over any minute," she said. "Don't worry, neither he nor Takashi will see your dick. One is blindfolded and the other has no interest."

Supersonic started playing at that moment. Mina had to have played it from inside.

"And what do I have to do?"

"Get him to undress and put the handcuffs on him that are in the second drawer of my desk," she pointed at it. "Don't ask why I have them."

"I'm not gonna touch that dude."

"You don't have to touch him, you just need to tell him two things: Fuku wo nuide," she held up a finger. "That means undress. And damatte," she held up the other finger. "Which basically means shut up. Can you pronounce them correctly?"

"I've watched enough anime, yeah."

"Alright, see you in a bit!"

She walked over to you, gave you a peck on the cheek and walked with quick steps to the door Mina and Sana were behind.

So you were left alone, listening to one of the best songs ever written, naked and with your arms crossed. There was no sign of Takashi or the other man until the second song you had requested was halfway through, when they both came storming in. Out of instinct you covered your crotch with a nearby pillow, but it was unnecessary, Takashi was facing the opposite direction and the man he was holding by the forearm was blindfolded.

You sighed and stood up.

"Thank you, Mr. Takashi," you said, walking towards them. "I'll take it from here."

Takashi let go of the man and stood with his back to you.

"Tell Miss Hirai that I'll leave what she ordered me to do on her doorstep," he said. "And that I'm expecting my raise tomorrow."

"Uh... okay."

With nothing else to do, Takashi walked out the door and closed it. That left you alone with the man. He wasn't taller than you; he was a bit shorter, but slightly stockier and older. The way he swayed was indicative of his disorientation.

"Hey, you, do you understand English?"

"U-uh... little bit," he made the same damn gesture with his fingers as Moka.

"Fucking wonderful," you said under your breath. "Walk forward mate."

He complied, taking fearful steps forward. You had to move out of his way as you watched.

"Keep going... keep going."

The man was approaching the couch area, but he was going to crash into the coffee table.

"Stop stop!" you took strides towards him and kept your hands near his back in case he actually fell. "Take two steps to the left and then forward again."

Luckily for you, the man understood your commands and managed to successfully reach the couch. Now it was time to show off your Japanese skills.

"Aight..." you took a deep breath. "What was it like? Ah yeah, uh... Fuku wo nuide."

"Eh? Nani? Nan no tame ni?" the man looked around.

"Don't make it harder, pal," you said with a sigh. "Just o-be-y."

With that said, you went and sat on the couch, facing forward, arms crossed. Cemetry Gates had already started. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that the man was already undressing. You avoided looking at him for now.

"What's your name, mate?" you asked, your gaze wandering between different decorations.

"R-Rizuri," the man replied, taking off his shoes and pants.

You stood up and walked over to Momo's desk.

"Alright, Rizuri," you said as you went through the second drawer, which had mostly papers, a stapler, and several pens. You found the handcuffs at the bottom; they looked perfect and of good quality, with well-polished stainless steel. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't protest."

Looking up, you saw that Rizuri had already sat down without you asking him to. What a fucking problem.

"Oh no no, stand up," you grabbed the handcuffs, closed the drawer, and walked back to him. He didn't understand you at first. "Stand-up!"

"U-uh hai!" he nodded, and then stood up.

As much as you hated to do it, you had to touch him. You grabbed his hands and put them behind his back, but he immediately freaked out and hesitated.

"Eh! Nani shiten no?!" He tried to break free from your grip, but you quickly locked the cuffs and threw the key onto the coffee table.

“Damatte!” you bellowed, and grabbed his arm tightly. “No one will hurt you, you bloody idiot. Consider yourself lucky instead.”

The song had ended a few seconds ago, and now the office was enveloped in silence. The only thing you could hear was the distant rumble of the club music on the other side of the walls.

However, the silence was suddenly interrupted when a song you hadn’t asked for, but that you knew marked the start of the show, began to play. Immediately, the ceiling lights went out, only to turn back on following the rhythm of the song that you soon recognized as Ariana Grande’s Bloodline. The pink, purple, and light blue hues alternated in dim flashes.

“Oh boy, now the fun begins,” you smiled, and pulled Rizuri back to sit on the couch. You did the same, considerably away from him.

Not even ten seconds into the song had passed when Mina appeared from your left. You were near that end of the couch, so she put her hand on your shoulder and gently slid it as she modeled the music to her position.

Your jaw nearly dropped to the floor at the sight of her dressed like that, yet another reminder of why you were so crazy about that woman. The most striking thing was her black top, adorned with shimmering purple straps, held up by three thin straps that revealed her completely bare back. She also wore high heeled boots that reached halfway up her thighs, and black denim shorts.

She stared at you, as she performed the first steps of the choreography she had prepared for that song. Each move was designed to highlight two things primarily: her back and her ass, so they were mostly sequences where she turned her back to you and looked at you over her shoulder, a half smile on her face as she watched your cock awaken again thanks to her hip movements and her hypnotizing twerk.

When the song ended, things didn't end there; another one played immediately. Lights On by Normani, slower and with the vibes that the situation demanded the most. Mina's face changed completely; just a moment ago you noticed her spicy, playful. Now it was the opposite: her face exuded pure lust, and the desire for you to put your hands on her as soon as you had the chance.

She finally approached you when the beat of the song broke, with slow steps and her hands on her back. You didn't really know why she had them there until she stopped between your legs and her top fell to the floor. And after a year and three months, that pair of small, pretty tits were at your mercy.

You reached out to put your hand on her abdomen, but Mina grabbed your wrist to stop you. She then turned around and moved her ass slowly from side to side, lowering herself until she could lean on your knees and then coming back up with a sensual movement that made her ass pass inches from your face. You noticed how she put her hands on her shorts, which without turning around, and without stopping her subtle movement of her hips, she slowly pulled down her legs with her body bent forward. Now that delicious ass, round and perfect, was also uncovered in front of you, adorned by a cute light blue thong.

As if she were reading your mind, she went straight down to sit on top of your already hard cock, which was crushed between her two buttocks in such a sublime way that it made you moan. You noticed a small, hard bulge between her buttocks, but before you could ask, Mina had pulled back, wrapped an arm around your neck, and started grinding her ass to the beat of the music against your shaft.

She brought her face close to your ear. Her hot breath sent shivers down your spine. You brought your hands to her waist, then slowly moved up to her tits to rub her nipples with your fingers. Mina let out a small moan, and bit your earlobe.

"Yeah baby... touch me," she panted against your ear, now moving her ass in slow circles, kneading your cock between her buttocks. "Feel your girl... show how much you missed doing that."

Turning your face to look at her, you were met with her lips, which merged with yours in a heated kiss filled with moans from both sides. Your hands kneaded her tits for a second, then moved back down her belly to reach her thighs, which you caressed up and down to her knees and back up. Your right hand went to her pussy to rub it over the soft fabric, and your left arm wrapped around the front of her abdomen to press her against you.

Mina, not happy with feeling your fingers only over a piece of fabric, lifted her hips and desperately pulled her panties off. Perhaps she breaked the dynamic a bit, but you were grateful for it, as now you could not only feel her buttocks, but also a bit of her wet pussy every time she moved her hips in the right way.

This, on the other hand, also made you confirm your initial suspicions. The hard bulge you felt a second ago turned out to be nothing but a butt plug, you could feel the cold metal every few seconds. But you didn't say anything for now, focused on rubbing between Mina's soft wet folds, her little bush rubbing against your palm.

The moment was too fucking hot for you, and you were about to lift her hips and take your cock inside her until the song finally stopped. As a result, she stopped moving as well. She broke the kiss, and looked into your eyes between heavy panting breaths. Just then another song started playing, Womanizer by Britney Spears. You knew exactly who was next.

"The show isn't over, baby," she murmured against your lips. "You enjoy it and leave the rest to me."

"Oi! Nani ga okiterun da?! Nande ore wo koko ni tsurete kita n da?!" Rizuri shrieked to your right. You had forgotten about the poor bastard's presence.

"Damare!" Mina shrieked back, not too pleased with his presence. "Koko ni irareru dake demo kansha shiro. Mou sugu omae no nozomi ga kanau!"

You didn't know what the hell she had said to him, but judging by his silence, you assumed it was something convincing enough to keep his mouth shut.

But soon you didn't have to pay attention to him anymore. Sana appeared from the right, with quick steps that matched the rhythm of the song. It looked like something similar to the first part of Mina's performance: a sexy and playful choreography to highlight her beauty and features. But she didn't just highlight that, but also her magnificent dancing skills, which were downright impressive.

Of course she also had you salivating in a matter of seconds. Just like Mina, Sana had made a complete outfit change: she now sported an olive green outfit that consisted of a semi-transparent long-sleeved top, and a short, tight skirt low enough at the waist to show off that delicious belly. On the other hand, she was wearing high boots in a lighter shade of green, which highlighted her beautiful legs.

Mina had gotten off you to sit at your left, her body pressed against your side and a thigh above yours, and while Sana left you stunned with those sequences full of sharp, fast and sexy movements, she spit on her hand and brought it straight to your cock to rub it slowly up and down. She also buried her face in your neck to fill it with kisses and subtle licks.

You moaned and put your arms on the low back of the couch, forcing yourself to focus your gaze on Sana, who was also staring at you while doing a sequence on the floor in which you could see under her skirt. She wasn't wearing anything underneath, so you had a quick glimpse of her pussy until she stood up again.

After a few seconds Sana pulled an astonishing movement out of her sleeve and took off one of the two tops she was wearing, the semi-transparent one, leaving her only in the tight one she was wearing underneath. When the song ended you thought she would go into the next part like that, but she then also took off that top, now being naked from the waist up.

In sequence came the next song: Let Me Love You, another Ariana Grande song. Sana followed Mina's trend and transformed into another whole person, but in her the change was more noticeable, especially in her gaze, now predatory and thirsty. Kinda scary if you had to be honest.

She walked slowly towards you, while Mina continued to move her hand steadily along your cock and rubbed your thighs together. When Sana was between your legs, the first thing she did was bring her fingers to your lips to rub them, the other hand on one of her breasts and her hips moving to the slow beat of the music. She put two of those fingers inside your mouth, and you gladly sucked them, reaching out one hand to place it on her waist. You put the other around Mina's body, to squeeze one of her buttocks and caress her waist.

Within seconds, Sana pulled her fingers out of your mouth and let you grope her tits with your hand as she grabbed the hem of her miniskirt and pulled it up very slowly. When you were about to see her pussy, she turned around, and finished pulling up her miniskirt with her back arched and her ass pushed towards you, so that you could see that magnificent piece of meat just inches away.

It didn't surprise you that she was also wearing a butt plug, a shiny purple one.

Opportunely, Mina moved her hand a little faster on your cock, now littering the side of your face with kisses. You reached between her buttocks with your hand and rubbed her pussy, your fingers now soaked by her wet folds. She moaned in your ear, and in one subtle movement she settled herself down with her legs spread out on the couch and the side of her upper body on top of your thigh. This way she could grab your cock, spit on it, and take it straight to her mouth.

You moaned as you felt Mina's warm mouth halfway down your shaft, and Sana turned over her shoulder to watch the scene with a lewd little smirk. She brought her hands to her own buttocks to squeeze them, urging you to grab them yourself. You didn't hesitate to do so, and then she took a couple of steps back, her ass now so close to your face that all you had to do was...

Sana buried your face in her ass, right between her buttocks. She had stolen your idea.

The anal plug blocked your access to her butt hole, but you didn't care; it wasn't your main objective. You squeezed both of her buttocks and separated them, to go down to her pussy and give her a long lick from bottom to top. Sana moaned, and remembering that she was supposed to be dancing, she ground her ass against your face, both hands gripping your head.

Mina on the other hand was in a completely different focus. She pumped her head up and down, slurping on your cock in a slow, sensual blowjob that had you moaning against Sana's pussy. You kept moving your fingers between her folds, but since you wanted to reward her for such a delicious head, you brought those two fingers inside her pussy, making her moan around your shaft.

The song ended without you realizing it, and Sana was forced to move her ass away from your face. When you looked up at her she had already turned around, to grab your face with both hands and crash her lips against yours. You kissed during those seconds of silence, with nothing but Mina's moans around your cock as you fingered her.

"You eat pussy so fucking well, you know that?" Sana murmured against your lips, biting the bottom one. “I see why Mina-sama fell in love with you.”

The lights went out for a second, and came back on a moment later as another song started. Call Out My Name by The Weeknd. It was the boss lady’s turn to take the stage.

Sana started to shower the right side of your face with kisses and sat down next to you, quickly taking off her boots, not an easy task given the amount of laces they had. But she was skilled at the task, and as soon as she could, she kicked off the boots and adopted the same position as Mina to grab that side of your cock, showering kisses on every area Mina didn't cover with her mouth.

Momo made her appearance a few seconds later, on the right side of the room. She looked stupidly hot in the outfit she was wearing, which consisted only of a short, strapless red dress and a pair of long red lace gloves. She walked straight to the pole in front of you, and as she watched Sana and Mina suck your cock, she let out a little smile and began her act.

The first few seconds of the performance were on the floor, using the pole for every move. She was still as magnificent at it as you remembered, and even better. You didn't doubt that she had been practicing non-stop all this time, because the damn woman seemed to be one with that thing.

She stared into your eyes every moment, and you forced yourself to hold her gaze amidst the moans that Sana and Mina, who turned out to be a great duo, drew from you. Now it was Sana who had you inside her mouth, also with slow and sensual pumps, while Mina salivated on your balls and kissed your lower abdomen.

Sana seemed to be the only one who remembered Rizuri's existence; the poor man remained completely still and confused, not knowing what to do or say. Luckily for him, Sana's feet were quite close. She only had to spread her legs a little, to be able to reach Rizuri's cock and caress it with the sole of her foot. Rizuri was slightly startled, but calmed down and sighed as soon as Sana's feet began to do their work.

A little over halfway through the song, Momo stopped to step aside and put her hands behind her back. The cute red dress fell to the floor a second later. What was underneath—or rather, what wasn't—made you question all the sexy things you'd ever seen in your life. Her pair of melons were free, round and perfect. But underneath she was wearing a piece of red crotchless lingerie, which perfectly showed off her little bush.

Momo then resumed the show, but this time she finally got on the pole to begin her routine.

Getting to see her pole dance naked was something that only existed within your deepest fantasies, and boy was it exactly how you expected it to be. That pair of wonderful tits bouncing, hanging and squeezing against the pole felt like a hypnosis method that your mind was unable to resist. If that wasn't enough, the lingerie piece showed way too much from behind, so her round, toned ass was also exposed and free for your delight.

Sana and Mina each now took a side of your shaft to lick and suck, until they moved up and their tongues met at your tip. You pumped your fingers faster in and out of Mina's pussy, and with your other hand you soon reached Sana's as well to finger it. Mina let out a louder moan and took your cock down her throat, holding it there for a few seconds and pulling it out for Sana to continue sucking.

Rizuri's moans had joined yours. Sana had made him hard in a matter of seconds. Now her feet were moving up and down his cock, at the steadiest pace she could between her moans and her pumps.

The song ended, but no other followed. The office fell into partial silence, accompanied by the sounds of sucking, fingers going in and out of wet flesh, and moans. Momo got off the pole in one deft move, and you noticed in her eyes that she had enough of the show.

She walked with quick steps towards you and dropped to her knees on the floor between your legs. You held each other's gaze, as she brought her lace-covered hands to your knees to caress them up and down, passing over your thighs as well. Her eyes then dropped to your cock, which Mina and Sana were still having a juicy feast on.

"Enjoying yourself so far, darling?" she asked, and brought a hand to your balls to fondle them gently. You were unable to formulate a response. "I know you are... but now you must feed us."

Momo removed her hand from your balls and leaned forward, planting her tongue on the back of your cock and teaming up with Sana and Mina to slowly drive you down into complete madness. You couldn't do anything but close your eyes and let your head fall back, moving both of your wrists as fast as you could to get more and more moans out of Sana and Mina.

Mina exploded into moans and spasms a few seconds later, pushing her ass against your fingers, which left Momo and Sana with a clear path to have your cock for themselves. It was Momo who was quick-witted and took you inside her mouth, and unlike the other two, she was like a hungry monster and gave you a sloppy, messy blowjob for the entire time she had you.

Sana fell victim to your fingering not long after. Her orgasm, however, was more frenzied than Mina's, since she had been teased for a while longer and must have felt close to exploding for an hour. The only one affected by this was Rizuri. She couldn't concentrate on continuing to move her feet, so for a few long seconds he was left without receiving any kind of pleasure.

When Sana's orgasm had passed, the three of them were back on your cock. A hand—you didn't know whose it was—wrapped around you and moved quickly up and down, while the three tongues and pairs of lips swirled and kissed near your tip. Another hand also went to your balls to keep them tight.

Opening your eyes and looking down you found that the hand stroking you was Momo's, and the hand on your balls was Mina's. If you hadn't been looking at anything you might have lasted a few seconds longer, but the lewd image, coupled with the hot naked bodies of the three on stage, made you explode immediately.

You let out a loud moan as you felt your thick streams of cum shoot up and then spill out the sides of your cock. Momo, Sana, and Mina made sure to catch and swallow every drop possible from their respective sides, but several of those drops had splashed onto their faces, so all three had either smeared cheeks or noses.

When the cum stopped pouring out of your cock, the three of them finally separated so you could see their faces. Momo had a couple of drops running down her forehead; Sana had one from her upper lip, and Mina had one from her cheek. The three of them looked at each other, and in a stupidly hot act they began cleaning each other up, using only their tongues to do so.

Mina and Sana finally sat up. Sana hugged your side and planted a kiss on your neck.

"Your cock is fucking delicious... fuck," she gasped. "And on top of that your cum is thick and hot... don't you want to plant a load like that inside me?"

"I'm sorry to say you'll have to wait, darling," Mina said from your left. "If I don't get him first I'll kill you both."

"But I'm sure he'll want a little break, won't he?" Momo asked with a smirk. "He came too fucking much, and he's been staring at my tits this whole time."

"Because I need them in my mouth as soon as possible," you replied between gasps. "Come fucking here."

"Fuck yeah daddy," she said, and stood up to straddle you, her thighs pressed tightly on either side of your hips.

Now with Momo's tits in front of your face it was your turn to feast. You wrapped one arm around her waist, pressed her against you and took one of those juicy melons into your mouth, followed by a satisfied moan. Momo wrapped both hands around your head and let out a moan as well, but soon sought out Mina's lips, who had knelt up to grope her all over.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed that Sana had gone to Rizuri. She was murmuring things to him in Japanese, one hand moving slowly up and down his cock. But it seemed the man wasn't in his strongest mental state, because judging by the way he squirmed, you deduced that he had cum way too early.

"Oh my god!" you heard her complain, annoyed. "He didn't even last a minute! Tsugi wa motto nagaku motasero yo, baka!"

You clearly didn't understand, but she didn't sound happy, so it was most likely a threat.

"H-Hai! Hai!" Rizuri replied, embarrassed. "Gomen, mou shinai!"

"You fucking better!" Sana turned to you. "Momo-sama! Where are the condoms?"

Momo didn't know. You were forced to pull her nipple out of your mouth to answer her.

"Takashi left them outside the door, go see," you replied, and continued to eat and massage Momo's perfect tits.

Mina's job had been to grope Momo's ass and rub her pussy, while their lips danced in a fiery, sloppy kiss. But after a minute she used her right hand to grab your cock and stroke it, with the other behind Momo, teasing with a finger inside her pussy.

Your cock came back to life within seconds inside her hand, and then you pulled away from Momo's tits to look at Mina.

"Ready to ride daddy's cock again, my love?" you asked, and leaned in to kiss her.

"Mmm yeah," she moaned against your lips, and pulled back to look at Momo. "Get out of the way right now, woman."

“Let’s go to the floor,” Momo panted, and gestured to the mat that covered the entire space. “I remind you that we no longer have the couch to ourselves.”

To your right Sana had already returned with Rizuri. She was lying on the couch, her feet close to you, giving the man a blowjob while lazily fingering her pussy. On the table was an open box of condoms; one was missing. The torn envelope was on the floor, and you quickly deduced that Rizuri was wearing it. Good.

You pushed Momo off you and stood up. The coffee table took up more space than you would have liked, so you took a moment to move it to the corner of the mat. There was now a large free space that you didn’t hesitate to lay down on, the soft velvet serving as a perfect bedspread.

Mina climbed off the couch and immediately went to straddle your abdomen. She leaned forward and cupped your face in her hands to kiss you. You wrapped your arms around her slim body, then brought your hands up to her ass to squeeze it hard. Her pussy was rubbing against your shaft, and you couldn't take another minute without being in there, so you grabbed your cock, rubbed it between her folds, and pressed it against her entrance to get her hips to lower.

"Mmmgh!" she moaned against your lips; she bit the bottom one a little harder than you expected. "Fuck yeah..."

Your cock pushed through her folds easily, due to how wet she already was and how slippery your cock was. You hadn't noticed it until now, but not being able to be inside her for all that time had given you severe withdrawal symptoms that were relieved when you were buried all the way in.

Mina began to move her hips up and down, slow and nice, her hands resting on your chest. Your cock slid smoothly, all the way in and out with each movement.

“God… I missed you so much, baby,” she moaned against your lips, and grabbed your face again to pepper it with kisses. “You’re as fucking big as I remember.”

“And you as tight, honey,” you panted, your hands on her waist.

She let out a moan against your cheek and moved down to your chin to bite it. Her hip movements became faster and more uncontrolled, until she simply planted her feet on the floor and began bouncing up and down on your cock.

“Hey, you two will have time to get intimate later,” you heard Momo say behind your head. “I want my piece of the pie too.”

Mina looked up at Momo and didn't protest, she just straightened her back and rested her hands on your lower abdomen to continue bouncing on your cock. But then your vision was obstructed by a beautiful wet pussy just inches above your face, which then lowered until it was pressed against your mouth. Momo had squatted down, her hands resting on your chest and her ass—which also had an anal plug embedded in it—choking you.

Now you didn't know where to put your hands, so you opted to leave one attached to Momo's thigh and the other on Mina's waist. You ate that piece of tender meat as if your life depended on it—and maybe it did, because that massive ass didn't allow you to breathe properly—with fast and hungry licks that had Momo's nails digging into your chest and trembling between moans.

Mina, on the other hand, was jumping so fast that you feared she might break her own tailbone from all the aggressive slamming against your pelvis. She also had her nails digging into your lower abdomen, but she was careful compared to Momo, whose nails you thought were going to pierce your fucking heart.

The first to cum after a little over a minute and a half was Mina, with a high-pitched scream and a downward thrust that made you moan against Momo's pussy. Mina lowered her knees and pressed her thighs on either side of your hips, slowly fucking herself against your cock through her orgasm.

Momo followed a few seconds later, and like Mina, she lowered her knees to sit completely on your face the moment her body exploded. Now you weren't breathing at all. You brought your hands to Momo's buttocks and squeezed them together before giving one a hard spank. She just ground herself against your face between moans, caring little if you were breathing or not.

A couple seconds later she finally got off your face, her orgasm having passed. You took a deep breath, your chest rising and falling violently. You were sure your face must be red.

“God, I’m sorry baby!” Momo gasped, and leaned over to give you pecks on the cheeks. “I couldn’t control myself.”

“I noticed,” you replied, regulating your breathing. “I’m not done with you two yet. Get on top of each other.”

Mina immediately got off your cock and laid down on her back beside you, legs spread wide. Momo climbed on top of her, thighs on either side of her waist and her melons pressed against Mina's small tits. You stood up to position yourself behind her, to delight in the hot sight of both of their pussies stacked on top of each other.

Momo looked over her shoulder at you with a mischievous little smile, subtly shaking your ass, and that alone was enough to make your choice clear. You put your hand on one of her buttocks, and with the other you took your cock and brought it to her pussy, to push your hips forward and slowly penetrate her.

"Oh fuck!" Momo squealed, and pursed her lips. "Slow, slow! I haven't had anything that big since the last time you were here, mmmgh."

“That flatters me, Hirai,” you smiled, and let out a groan as your cock was halfway inside. “This backshot is still immaculate, I must say.”

You dropped both hands on her waist and gave one last push to get the last few inches of your shaft in. Momo let out a moan and clung to Mina’s shoulders, who placed pecks on the side of her face.

“I’ve been working out,” she moaned, and bit her bottom lip as you began to slowly pump your hips. “Thanks for noticing, sweetheart.”

Momo then gave in to the pleasure and turned her head to meet Mina’s lips. Your slow pumps continued for the next few seconds, as you wanted to admire how your cock disappeared and reappeared from between that pair of pretty ass cheeks. But when your body demanded more you pursed your lips and dropped another hard spank on Momo’s ass. She squealed in the middle of the kiss with Mina, and you grabbed onto her ass to fuck her hard now.

After almost a minute Momo broke away from the kiss with Mina and buried her face in her neck, showering it with kisses and bites, a way to muffle her own moans. Mina's eyes then met yours. Her gaze was pleading, full of wanting you to fuck her that hard too, and you didn't want to make her wait too long, so you let Momo's ass jiggle for a little while until you pulled out of her pussy and moved on to Mina's.

Momo didn't complain. Instead, she cooperated with you and lowered her body a little to suck on Mina's tits, while you pumped rapidly in and out of her tight pussy. Mina became a quivering mess of moans and hugged Momo's head, urging her to continue kissing her tits. You, for your part, were holding onto Mina's thighs; you had them pressed back, so that they were almost intertwined with Momo's.

You fucked Mina for almost the same amount of time as Momo—maybe a little longer—and by the time you switched pussies again you were already completely feral; Momo was the only possible victim of this, as as soon as you were fucking her, you grabbed her hair in a fistful and pulled it back hard, giving her another spank with your free hand. The arch of Momo's back let her tits bounce constantly, and Mina, not wasting any opportunity, took them into her mouth and hugged Momo around the waist.

Half a minute later you returned to Mina's pussy, and fucked it with exactly the same fury and effort. This brought her to a sudden orgasm under Momo's body, who held her by the neck while kissing her. You waited for her orgasm to pass, not slowing down, before you returned inside Momo.

The spanking and hair pulling continued, as did the ass jiggles you constantly caused with your frantic pumping. She soon came too, in a violent whirlwind of spasms and screams through which you fucked her mercilessly.

Soon you felt yourself very close to your peak. You brought your hands to her waist, your fingers clenched there tightly. Momo remained still and relaxed-muscled, making herself look like a piece of meat made only for fucking. You groaned and gritted your teeth, when you then felt the tickle.

You quickly pulled out of Momo's pussy and masturbated as hard and fast as you could, until you exploded in thick jets of cum. The first few drops went down Momo's back, while the vast majority went between her buttocks, spilling between them to go around the butt plug, through her slit, and into Mina's pussy.

Behind you, you heard another loud squeal of pleasure. When you looked over your shoulder, you found that Sana had been watching you all this time with Rizuri's cock in her mouth, and had made herself cum with her own fingers. Her eyes were on you, and just like Mina's had been a moment ago, they were begging you to fuck her.

"Come clean up your bosses, cutie," you ordered between gasps.

Sana obeyed without a word. She pulled Rizuri's cock out of her mouth and climbed down from the couch to join you. She first knelt down beside Momo to lick your cum off her back, and then gently pushed you away to lick the rest of it, from Momo's buttocks to Mina's pussy, leaving every little corner completely clean.

Sana then hugged your arm and pressed her tits against it. She gave you a couple of kisses on the neck.

"It's my turn with you now, sweetheart," Sana murmured. "And don't you even dare refuse."

"I wasn't going to," you replied, and turned your head to kiss her. "But since I need a break, I'm going to eat that pretty pussy of yours first."

You grabbed Sana by the arm and pushed her. She fell onto her back, and you quickly laid face down with your face in front of her pussy. You grabbed her thighs and roughly pressed them back, then planted your mouth there to devour her. Sana squealed and brought a hand to your hair to tangle her fingers in it, arching her back.

“Aw, our poor guest looks helpless,” you heard Momo say. “He deserves some consideration.”

You didn’t see what happened next since you had your eyes closed, focused on devouring and tasting every inch of wet flesh and making those thighs tremble, but the next thing you heard was a moan from Rizuri followed by one from Momo.

When you considered your break over, you pulled away from Sana’s pussy and got on top of her to kiss her. She immediately brought a hand between your bodies and reached for your cock, which she brought back to life with gentle strokes and caresses of your balls. Her legs wrapped around your torso, and then she guided your cock inside herself.

"Mmmgh, fucking finally!" she sensually moaned against your lips, and arched her back as your cock was engulfed between her folds. "It feels so big... and so fucking thick, fuck... fuck!"

Sana's pussy was a fucking wonder; it was warm, almost as tight as Mina's and wet like no other. Your cock soon reached the bottom, and in between kisses and bites to her chin, you began to move your hips in a steady rhythm.

She held you close and dug her nails into your back, hers now straight so that you could kiss her and she could muffle moan after moan against your lips. Her legs clung tighter around your body as well, prompting you to grab her thighs and pump as fast as that position would let you now.

In that little flurry of moans and sweat you remembered Mina. You pulled away from Sana's lips and looked to your left. Mina was watching you two, propped up on one elbow and rubbing her pussy, her brow furrowed in pleasure and her lips parted.

"Go to the couch, sweetheart," you said between gasps. "We'll put Sana's pretty little mouth to work on that pussy of yours."

Mina nodded and stood up on shaky legs, walking over to the couch. You then turned your gaze to Sana and pecked her lips.

"Come on cutie," you forced her to let go of your torso and pulled out of her. "Let's go with Mina-chan; I think she wants some attention too."

You stood up and helped Sana onto all fours. Mina was already sitting on the couch, her legs spread wide near the edge; you positioned Sana with her face between them. Sana then spread her knees, lifted her ass and arched her back for you, before planting her mouth on Mina's pussy to eat it out.

Now you could finally see what was going on between Momo and Rizuri. She was on top of him, her back to him, her feet planted on the sides of his thighs as she rapidly rose and fell on his cock. She must have been in a very good mood, because a year ago you would have laughed your head off at the thought of her letting another man fuck her.

However your focus right now wasn't on that, but on Sana's pretty ass presented to you, her pussy ready for you to destroy.

You grabbed your cock and with one hand on Sana's lower back you went back inside her. She moaned against Mina's pussy, who had her hand on Sana's head, her fingers caressing and tangling in her brown strands. Sana held onto Mina's thighs, her moans increasing in volume as you moved on to hammering her pussy as hard as you could.

"That's it darling..." Mina moaned, watching Sana eat her pussy. The hold she had on her hair looked tight and painful. "Be a good girl and make your boss cum!"

Sana could only nod between uncontrolled moans, being roughly shaken by your frantic pumping in and out of her pussy. You couldn't pull her hair because that would interrupt Mina's pleasure, so you opted to simply squeeze her ass cheeks hard and treat her like a living fleshlight.

She came a few moments later, and with the vibrations of her moans Mina came as well. Both of them exploded into violent contractions, Mina with her thighs now around Sana's head, and Sana holding onto those thighs as the only possible point of grip as you fucked her through her orgasm.

To your left you heard Rizuri moan louder than usual. You turned to find Momo now riding him from the front, her arms around his head. Momo seemed glad that he had come, but she didn't look satisfied at all. You could tell she needed a lot more than that.

You pulled out of Sana's pussy a few seconds later, her thighs still shaking. Mina released her head from between her thighs, her breathing ragged as she looked at you and then at her.

"You sure know how to use that pretty little mouth huh?" Mina asked, brushing Sana's hair out of her face before caressing her cheek with her thumb.

"I like being a good girl and always doing my best," Sana replied, moving on to give Mina pecks on her thighs.

You sat back on your heels and rested your hands on your thighs. Shortly after, you saw Momo get up from the couch out of the corner of your eye. She stood behind you and grabbed your chin to tilt your head back and make you look up at her.

"Hey, pretty boy," she smiled, and caressed your cheek with her thumb. "You wanna fuck my ass? You must miss it."

"For sure I fucking do," you replied, and pointed at Rizuri with your finger. "You gonna put him to work?"

Momo looked at him, and when she looked back at you, she shrugged.

"I've always wanted to know what it feels like to have two cocks fucking me in two different holes, so why not?"

"Where do you keep the lube?"

"Not me; Mina," she looked at the desk. "Search in the top drawer."

You turned to look at Mina. Sana had climbed onto the couch with her, both of them resting snuggled up against each other. Who knew that up until an hour ago you thought they'd end up hating each other.

"Can I?" you asked.

"Why are you asking if you'll do it anyway?" she replied.

You shrugged and stood up.

"I feel like if I didn't you'd yell at me."

"I would never yell at you!" she yelled at you, as you walked to her desk. You couldn't help but laugh.

When you got to the desk you opened the drawer and the first thing you saw was the little black bottle, it wasn't completely full, and you smiled at the thought of Mina having her little moments of fun when she was alone in the office.

You grabbed the bottle, closed the drawer and went back to the center of the office. Momo was already lying on her side on the mat, Rizuri next to her with a new condom already on. He was on his knees, apparently ready for whatever was coming. The only missing piece was you.

You laid down next to Momo, who had her back to you. You stayed propped up on one elbow, and brought your hand between her buttocks to grab the anal plug.

"Ready?" you asked, and gave her a little kiss on the shoulder.

She turned her head to look at you.

"To take a big cock in my ass? Always."

You smiled and proceeded to pull the anal plug out carefully. Momo moaned, one hand on her own thigh. With the path now clear you grabbed the lube, opened it and poured it onto your two fingers and brought them straight inside her butthole, stretching it as much as possible. Within seconds you pulled them out.

“And now?” she asked, already panting.

“You ride me,” you replied, lying on your back as you poured lube now onto your cock. “In reverse so our little friend can get his share of the action.”

Momo complied and mounted you facing Rizuri, both feet planted on the sides of your hips and her hands on your thighs. Your cock was already lubed and ready, so you just grabbed it, rubbed it between her ass cheeks and lined it up with her butthole so she only had to lower her hips and slowly impale herself.

“Oh my fucking god…” she muttered, as your cock was engulfed inch by inch by her ass; when it was halfway in, it only took one smooth movement to get it all the way in. “Fuck!!”

With your cock already buried inside her, Momo dropped down to rest half her back on your chest and spread her legs, placing them behind yours. She gave a quick instruction to Rizuri in Japanese, and he moved over to position himself between your legs and hers. All Momo had to do was grab Rizuri’s cock and take it inside her pussy.

“Mmmgh fuck!” Momo squealed, supporting herself with her hands on the floor. “Fucking use me!”

You and Rizuri began pumping in and out. You weren't exactly being coordinated; Rizuri was going fast from the start, focused on his own pleasure. But you made sure Momo felt every single upward thrust with every fiber of her body. This ultimately resulted in her going crazy with pleasure in no time.

"Girls, come over here and serve the boss," you said to Sana and Mina, who you didn't have in your line of vision but you knew were waiting expectantly. "Do whatever you want with her."

You placed your hands on Momo's waist and slowly matched Rizuri's pace, hard thrusts making your pelvis bump against her big ass. Sana and Mina came within seconds, one on your left and one on your right, respectively. Mina immediately kissed Momo and groped one of her breasts, while Sana brought the other to her mouth, one hand caressing the inside of her thigh.

"Slap her tits," you panted to the girls. "I'm sure that'll drive her crazy."

"Oh yeah?" Sana asked, her tone seductive, then squeezed one of Momo's breasts and gave it a sharp slap. Momo squealed. "Does the boss like that?"

"Of course she does," Mina replied, and slapped the other breast harder. "The boss is a little slut who loves having her tits played with."

Mina and Sana each sank down on the side of Momo's neck to shower it with less than gentle kisses and bites. The slaps on her tits continued, getting more frequent and harder. Momo just squealed with each one, almost screaming.

"See?" Mina said against Momo's cheek. "I bet she loves that... doesn't she?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!!" Momo nodded between moans. Sana rewarded her with two quick, hard slaps to her breast. "I love how you fucking play with my big tits, keep going! Fuck!"

Mina smiled and took Momo's nipple between her index finger and thumb to pinch and flick it. She then gave her another slap, the hardest one yet, which made Momo scream. You and Rizuri were still focused on your task, you hammering her ass and him her pussy. Between all these pleasure inputs Momo was quick to explode.

"Mmmgh yeahhh!!" Momo dropped back against your chest, and you reached around her torso to slowly fuck her through her orgasm. "So good, fuck!!"

Mina and Sana apparently hadn't had enough fun, because while Momo was still writhing in pleasure on top of you, they kept pinching her nipples and giving her tits painful slaps. Rizuri had been considerate enough to slow down as well, until Momo's orgasm finally passed.

Momo put a hand on Rizuri's abdomen and pushed him out of her. She then raised her hips so you pulled out of her and dropped to your side. When you turned to look at her, you found that her tits looked like two tomatoes. 

God damn, Sana and Mina had been hard.

"Stay exactly where you are," Sana said, adopting the same position as Momo on top of you. You noticed that she had already removed the anal plug. "Because now it's my turn."

Neither of you objected. You repeated the same process as with Momo, and when Sana's ass was nice and lubed up and ready, you had her fully impale herself on your cock.

"Mmmgh fuck, that thing feels even better inside my ass," she moaned, fully lying on your chest and holding onto your head. "Momo-sama, would you put our guest's cock inside me?"

Momo was more dead than alive, but she somehow managed to gather the strength to sit up and take Rizuri's cock and guide it into Sana's pussy. By this point you weren't much more energized than Momo, but Sana's ass felt too fucking tight to come down on.

You and Rizuri began pumping fast and hard from the start, and Sana's squeals blossomed one after another. She turned her head to find your lips and kiss them, one hand tangled in your hair and the other on the floor. You gave her body a quick run with your hands until you found her legs, which you grabbed behind the knees to press them towards you.

This time you didn't have to give the order for Mina to get into action. She and Momo knew exactly what to do from the start. Mina leaned down to kiss her abdomen, one hand circling Sana's clit. Momo, meanwhile, returned the favor to Sana and began to suck on her tits.

But then you heard a slap; something dry hitting wet flesh, followed by a squeal that made Sana pull away from your lips.

"Mmm, what do we have here," you heard Momo say with a giggle. "The little whore likes her pussy slapped."

"I-I didn't..." another slap to her pussy, quick and dry, another squeal. "Mmmmgh!!"

You smiled at the discovery made by Momo, and pressed Sana's thighs hard against her own torso, now fucking her ass as fast and hard as you could. Rizuri matched your pace, quite impressive considering his hands were tied behind his back and his eyes were blindfolded; his pelvis was slamming into Sana's crotch as hard as yours was slamming into her ass.

Just like the slaps to Momo's tits, the slaps to Sana's pussy fell one after another like a meteor shower; each one made Sana shudder and squeal, and soon the moans turned into whimpers accompanied by tears of pleasure.

"Look at the little fucking slut..." Mina said, and let out an evil giggle. "So fucking slutty. You like that, whore?" she gave her a hard slap and then frantically rubbed her clit. "Huh?"

"Yes, Mina-sama!!" Sana squealed, her fingers clenching in your hair. "I fucking love it!"

"Who's our little whore? Huh?" Momo asked. "Who's our little sex doll?"

"Me! Me! I fucking am, me!!" she whimpered in response. "Ahhhh!!!"

Sana suddenly exploded, and the orgasm came with a little surprise, as while she writhed in pleasure like a cute rag doll, intense jets of squirt came out of her pussy, staining Rizuri's entire torso.

You heard Momo gasp in surprise.

"She even knows how to squirt!" she said. "You're quite the fucking treasure huh?"

Mina didn't say anything, she simply leaned down to put her face in front of Sana's pussy and lick it, collecting as many squirt jets as she could. Sana continued to writhe on top of you; her thighs trembled beneath your fingers.

“Kuso… hontōni sugoi,” Sana moaned under her breath, weak-eyed and sweat-stained. She turned kissed you again. “You’re fucking wonderful, honey.”

“Just like you…” you panted against her lips. “I truly am a very lucky bastard.”

“Don’t even mention it,” she smirked, and like Momo, made you both get out of her so she could climb down and lay down on your side. She looked at Mina. “Boss, there’s only you left.”

“Don’t even think about it,” she refused immediately. “My pussy is reserved solely and exclusively for him.”

“But not your ass huh?” Momo chimed in with a giggle. “Come on, Mina-chan, just this once.”

Mina frowned and glared at her.

"Hirai Momo, you owe me big time after all this," she threatened, with a finger in the air. "And it won't happen again!"

"Yeah yeah, whatever you say, love," Momo nodded disinterestedly. "Now ride him and finish them off."

Mina huffed in annoyance and pulled out the light blue anal plug herself, then straddled you. In comparison to Momo and Sana, she was facing you, her back to Rizuri. Her thighs adjusted to your hips, and she placed her hands on your chest. Sana meanwhile was lubing up Rizuri's cock, then did the same to Mina's ass.

"You're gonna put that hot fucking load all the way inside my pussy, you understand me?" she asked you, giving you affectionate pecks on the lips. She then turned to look at Rizuri with a frown. "Eh! Omae mo ki wo tsukero, samonaito korosu zo!"

Another threat, surely. How fucking scary. If you were Rizuri you would be shitting yourself alive if Mina had spoken to you in that tone and in her language.

You grabbed your cock and took it straight into her pussy, Mina moaned and lowered her hips, impaling herself as deep as possible. Momo then helped Rizuri, taking his cock and guiding it into Mina's ass. It was a bit of a difficult process, as Mina kept insulting him in Japanese for not doing the job the way she wanted, but eventually both cocks were buried deep in both holes, and soon they were going in and out.

Even though Mina's pride weighed more than two cargo ships together, she was quick to let go and show that she was enjoying it as much as Momo or Sana. You wrapped your arms around her body, one arm around her lower waist and the other around her back. You held her tight against you, and she kissed you, as you pumped faster and faster.

Momo and Sana didn't have much to do; just one thing. A few seconds of moaning sounds and flesh crashing against flesh passed, until you heard flesh being spanked. Mina squealed and turned to see the two of them on their knees on either side of her ass, both peppering each butt cheek with kisses.

"What? Are you going to say you don't like that, boss?" Sana asked with a giggle, and gave her another spank that made her squirm.

"She's so haughty that she'll never admit that she loves it, but I can tell you she does," Momo replied, as you watched her bite one of her butt cheeks and then spank it.

Momo was right: Mina was enjoying every single second of it, you could see it in her eyes and the tone of her cheeks, and the way her nails dug into your chest as she moaned louder and louder. Her neck was accessible to you, and you didn't hesitate to kiss it while caressing her back and waist.

"Harder, fuck!!" Mina shrieked. "Don't be weak bitches and spank that ass properly!!"

Momo and Sana took it as a challenge, because the spanks started to fall one after another, each one harder and more violent than the last. The interval between spanks became shorter, until they sounded like a small round of applause. Mina couldn't find anything to hold on to to scream, so she opted for the easy way of cupping your face and kissing you to muffle the shrieks against your lips.

"That hard is fine, you arrogant fucking whore?" you heard Momo say.

"Yeah, just like that, you stupid fucking bitch!!" Mina yelled, clinging to your neck. "And you better not stop unless you want a punch in your stupid face!"

Again, fucking scary.

It wasn't surprising to you that Rizuri was the first to cum. The man gave his last few thrusts until with a loud moan he pushed in as he drained himself. After a few seconds he just pulled out of Mina and let himself fall back, the condom on his cock filled with cum.

That left you alone. But not entirely, because Sana made up for the lack of Rizuri's cock with her own fingers. You weren't sure you saw right, but you swore you saw her use three fingers. This brought Mina quickly to her orgasm, which came in a tidal wave of spasms and screams into the air.

Mina's pussy clenched hard around your cock, and you were close too, so you kept fucking her through her orgasm without slowing down. It wasn't long until you joined her and exploded with an upward thrust, unloading all your seed inside her warm pussy.

"Oh yes baby yes!!" Mina moaned sensually, and she went on to do the work, moving her hips up and down as you shot spurt after spurt inside her walls. "Fill me up, fuck... Fucking missed this feeling."

Your lips met again, this time in a kiss filled with passion and adorable little moans from her. Mina caressed your hair and cheeks, and you just held her between your arms.

"Fuck, they're being cheesy again," you heard Momo say.

"Do they like each other or...?" Sana said.

"Shut up both of you!" Mina snapped, then pointed at Rizuri, who was lying on his side on the floor. "Now get him out of here!"

While Sana and Momo were busy getting Rizuri to stand up and get dressed, you and Mina continued kissing until your cock came out of her pussy, so all your cum could come out. Neither Sana nor Momo bothered to clean it up since they were doing a harder job, so you two had to find a towel to clean up yourselves.

When you finished, Mina intertwined her hand with yours and led you to the couch. She made you lie down, so she could lie between you and the backrest, her body pressed against your side. You put your left arm around her, the other hand on your chest. You both watched as Momo and Sana took Rizuri out of the office with his hands now free.

"And there goes the poor bastard," Momo said with a smile, walking over to you. She sat down at your feet.

"He's not poor at all," Sana said, sitting on Momo's lap with complete confidence. Momo put her arms around her and looked at her with shining eyes. How curious. "He got to fuck the three hottest Japanese girls in the entire country."

"Yeah, but he didn't know," Mina laughed. "He only knows that he fucked three Japanese women; he doesn't know what kind."

"I don't think he cares either," you laughed as well. "He came out of here pretty drained."

"Hey, get some rest and get dressed," Momo said. "We're going to the apartment," she then looked at Sana, caressing her lower back. "Do you have something to do, sweetheart?"

"Not really, why?" she asked, and cocked her head. "Are you inviting me to spend the night with you, Momo-sama?"

Momo shrugged.

"If you want, of course."

"Of course I do," she smiled.

Sana then grabbed Momo by the chin and leaned over to give her a small kiss. She then stood up with a smirk and started to get her clothes. Momo stared at her, and you and Mina looked at each other with a frown. Suspicious to say the least.

After Sana, Momo was the next to stand up to go get her clothes and get dressed. Mina and you were in no hurry; you were exhausted, and she was more of the same. You spent at least another five minutes just lying there cuddled up against each other, feeling nothing but each other's breathing.

"Cuties, sorry to break the mood but it's getting late and I want to take a shower," Momo said, already dressed in her previous outfit, the one from before the show.

"I have to go get my stuff from the hotel and cancel the nights I already had paid for," you said, and after giving Mina a peck on the forehead, you stood up with a sigh.

"Do you want me to pay for the taxi?" Momo asked.

Sana appeared as well, dressed in part of her performance outfit and Mina's coat over her to cover herself.

"I'll do it," Mina said, also standing up. "I'll go with him and we'll meet you at the apartment."

"Honey, there's no need..." you tried to protest, but she raised a finger at you.

"I didn't ask you, it's mandatory."

You shrugged and gave in. You searched for your clothes, which were scattered around the carpet, and as you got dressed you made sure you had all your things in order. Mina had gone into the room to get dressed; she came out a few minutes later, wearing the outfit she was wearing when you met up earlier.

"Ready then?" Momo asked, fixing her hair.

"Yeah, let's get out of here," Mina nodded. "I'll tell Takashi-kun to close the club and send the girls home safely."

Mina got on the phone for a minute, and then she motioned for you to leave. You followed Momo and Sana, but waited for her under the door frame until she caught up to you and linked her arm with yours.

As you walked out of the club Momo walked hand in hand with Sana to a sedan parked on the side of the road. A black chrome Mazda 3. She unlocked the doors with the remote and opened the passenger door for Sana to get in.

"Come on, get in," Momo nodded at you. "I'll take you to the hotel and then I'll head to the apartment."

"Sounds good," you nodded, and went to open the back door for Mina to get in. You followed her.

Momo got you to the hotel in a matter of about ten minutes, and even though you tried to tell her that you didn't think it would take long and that she could wait for you, she ignored you and just drove off with Sana to the apartment. You and Mina agreed that those two were really into each other.

Mina walked you to your room and helped you gather your things to put in your suitcase, then went to the lobby to cancel the nights you had booked. For some reason the hotel didn't do refunds, and Mina nearly jumped over the counter to beat the hell out of the receptionist. But you just put your arm around her waist and pulled her out of the lobby amid Japanese insults.

Outside, Mina took charge of ordering the taxi, which arrived in less than five minutes ready to take you to your destination. After about ten minutes you finally arrived at the street of the building, near the parliament and also the Danube river, which was only a couple of blocks away.

It was a beautiful street, full of small shops and tall, thin trees, with small, sparse leaves that allowed you to see the windows and balconies. The buildings, all at least five stories high and built of light stone, stood imposing and elegant, with classic ornamental facades in the purest European style.

Mina led you inside one of them, which was exclusively residential. You climbed the stairs to the fourth floor, and walked through a wide hallway until you reached the last door. She first opened the outer gate, then the varnished wooden door that led you inside.

"Welcome to my new home, darling," Mina said behind you as she closed the door.

This apartment was a clear example of all the hard work the girls had put in over the past year or so. It was simply gorgeous, modern and cozy, very much the style of the two of them. The aesthetic was minimalist, yet sophisticated and elegant, with a shiny marble floor and white walls, which were complemented by the warm brown tones of the furniture.

You passed through the doorway on the left of the small lobby you were in, which led you to the wide open hallway with the dining table on the left wall; it was made of a shiny, polished wood, which reflected the dim light from the hanging lamps. Just to the right was the kitchen, perfectly integrated into the space thanks to the shiny wood finish of the cabinets, the long black countertop and the built-in appliances.

But after taking a few more steps you were in the main attraction of the apartment. The living room featured brown leather furniture: a large sofa at the back and two individual armchairs, arranged on a fluffy light gray rug. The ceiling was double-height, with a recessed lighting rectangle built in, and the large window at the back, covered by white curtains, completed a more than perfect, comfortable space.

"Honey, this is gorgeous," you said, hands clasped behind your back, admiring the abstract paintings on the walls. Then you turned to look at her. She was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and looking at you with a smirk. "I'm proud of you, really."

Mina smiled from ear to ear and walked over to you to wrap her arms around your neck. She pecked you on the lips and looked into your eyes. You put your hands on her waist.

"Thanks, baby," she said in a cute tone of voice. "It was fucking hard to haggle with the owner, but it was worth it."

You laughed and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

"I never thought you'd end up being Jordan Belfort."

She laughed, and you were dazzled by that beautiful gummy smile.

"But I don't launder money," she pointed out. "Huge difference."

Your reply was cut off by the sound of a door opening behind you. You turned to see Sana and Mina exiting what you could see was a bedroom. The comfortable outfits they got on consisted of shorts and a loose hoodie. That led you to deduce that they had already showered. Together, apparently.

“You two sure took a while, didn’t you?” Momo asked with a goofy little grin that she shared with Sana. Those two were up to something until you two arrived, you were sure.

“I got into a little argument with a damn bitch, but it’s okay,” Mina let go of you and walked over to them. “Can I use the bathroom? I could use a shower too.”

“Yeah, go,” Momo stepped away from the door to let Mina through. She then looked at you. "You can use the bathroom in my room if you want, sweetie.”

"And that's...?"

"Over there," she pointed down the hallway behind you. "The door at the very back."

"Got it," you nodded. "I assume this is Mina's room, then?"

"Aha."

"Perfect, I'll leave my suitcase here."

She rolled her eyes as you picked up your suitcase and walked past her into the room.

"Don't you dare deny that you're crazy about that woman, my god."

You left your suitcase inside the room and from inside you took out the clothes you would wear after your shower, listening to the sound of water falling behind the door to your left.

With your things in hand you walked out of the room to find Sana on top of Momo on the wide leather couch. They didn't mind your presence, so you simply ignored them and went where Momo had indicated.

You walked down the hall and into Momo's room, then into her bathroom. The shower you took was a bit intensive as you were exhausted and sticky, and you also needed to relax your muscles with some cold water. When you finished you felt like you were made of clouds, a completely new man.

You walked back into the living room, drying the inside of your ears with the towel, dressed but barefoot. Mina had already come out of the shower, she was sitting on the couch with Sana and Momo, who had moved to the far end so they could be comfortable.

You went to sit next to Mina, who clung to you with her arms and legs like a koala. Her pajamas were some small shorts and a loose black t-shirt. You snuggled her against you.

"What a day, huh?" you asked. "Bloody hell. I feel like an elephant ran over me."

"Tell me about it," Momo replied, now she was the one snuggled up against Sana's chest and arms. "Doing all the paperwork for this place was an ordeal."

"On top of that, the stinky man kept pestering us with cheap compliments and pathetic laughs," Mina added in a dismissive tone, as if she was disgusted by talking about him.

Sana suddenly yawned hilariously loudly. Momo raised her head to look at her with an amused smile.

"Sleepy, sweetie?" she asked.

Sana could only nod. Her face was that of a person who just wanted to hibernate like a marmot, her eyes weak and half-closed.

"Let's go to sleep then," Momo pulled away from her and nodded towards the hallway.

Sana nodded again and stood up, and as she walked towards the hallway she gave the two of you a lazy wave goodbye, too tired to speak.

You and Mina then stared at Momo. She looked back at you, and seeing your judging eyes made her smile fade.

"What?"

"You like her?" Mina asked.

The question immediately made Momo nervous. She let out an awkward giggle.

"Sana? Nah. I'm just being nice."

"I don't know about you, but I don't just cuddle up in the arms of a person I'm just being nice to," Mina attacked again.

"Alright, this conversation is over," she stood up. "Goodnight, darlings."

You shared a smile with Mina, and waited for her to leave before continuing to talk.

"She likes her, right?" you asked.

"Yeah, it's been going on for months, it's just that today they had the chance to be together. And it seems that they have a thing for each other."

"They look cute together, you have to admit," you said, shrugging.

"Yeah, but I've told Momo many times not to get her hopes up too high."

"Why?"

"Because boss-employee relationships don't usually work out all that well most of the time," she then yawned as well. "But anyway, it's between the two of them."

"Time for cuddles in bed and sleep?"

"Fuck, yes please," she sighed.

You stood up and offered Mina your hand. She took it, and together you walked into her room. She was quick to turn on the air conditioning, while you got into bed and under the blanket, then joined you. You immediately pulled her into your arms, and she hugged your chest.

All the accumulated tiredness knocked you out in a matter of minutes.

The next morning felt like a lucid dream. You didn't know what had woken you up first, the rays of sunlight filtering through the white curtains or the pots clanking together and the sound of the sink opening and closing outside.

But none of that was relevant when you woke up with that angel by your side.

Mina was a gift from the gods, you confirmed it when you saw her face illuminated from the side by the morning light. She was an unmatched beauty, worthy of a princess from a fairy tale. Even her voice sounded like that (even when she was angry).

You couldn't find a better way to wake her than with kisses all over her face, as subtle and affectionate as you could. They worked a few seconds later, when she stirred and snuggled up against your chest. Mina then opened one eye, looked at you, and closed it again.

"Nice way to wake me up..." she murmured. "But I don't see why you should stop giving me kisses."

You smiled and gave her more and more kisses, several of them on the lips, until she finally opened both eyes and cupped your face in her hands to kiss you. After a few seconds you pulled away from her lips and pulled her up to your side, wrapping your arms around her.

"I could see that pretty face of yours every day when I wake up and never get tired of it, you know?" you gave her a peck on the nose.

"Oh yeah?" she caressed your cheek with her thumb, looking into your eyes from very close. "That could be arranged."

"Ask me. I know you want to."

She hesitated for a moment, and nibbled on her lower lip nervously.

"Honey, stay, please..." she cupped your face in her gentle hands. "Stay here with me and let's be happy. I..." she looked down. "God, it's been a year and three months where I couldn't get you out of my head, and I can't go through that again."

You thought for a moment about your answer, licking your lips before doing so.

"Honey... you know it's not easy," you said.

"I know it's not easy, fuck," she looked you in the eyes. "But you have us here. We have contacts; we can help you! Hell, you can even bring your parents if you want, I don't care."

"Baby, I need you to relax," you said, noticing that she was getting a little tense for no reason. "My parents aren't a problem."

"But..."

"I do want to stay," you interrupted her, and that lit up her face like a beacon. "But it will take about a month to get all the paperwork done, and in the meantime you two have to help me with the residency and work permit. With the whole UK leaving the European Union thing, things got a bit screwed up."

Mina's only response was to let out an excited squeal and kiss you, kicking your feet so excitedly that they made the bed shake. You laughed and kissed back.

"Are you serious?" she asked. "Aren't you messing with me?"

"I'm serious. But you two have to put in a lot of effort too."

"No problem with that," she waved her hand. "We can employ you as a secretary first and move from there."

"Well, going from accounting director to secretary isn't something I was planning on but I'm in."

Mina's face changed. She frowned.

"Wait a minute, are you an accountant?"

"Uh... yes?"

"You'll be our accountant!" she announced, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "Holy crap... thank goodness."

"Wait, you didn't have an accountant?"

"No! Can you believe that? Momo and I are barely keeping track!"

"How the hell haven't you been fined? Or worse, how have you not gone bankrupt?"

She shrugged.

"I don't know, we make a lot of fucking money and we're not stupid either."

"Fuck..." you sighed. "Fine, I'll be your accountant. Have you thought about expanding the business?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, make a more general bar, maybe, and less hidden," you said. "You're wasting Moka's talents on a bunch of stinky Japanese men."

"I mean... you're right. But right now we have to get back on our feet financially after buying the apartment."

"I can check your account book today, so you'll know where you stand exactly. Do you have an Excel file?"

"Yeah but..." she scratched her temple. "It's a bit messy."

"I'll fix it, no problem."

"God, thanks sweetie..." she sighed, and put her cheek against your chest. "Wait a minute..."

She lifted her head and stared at you with half-lidded eyes.

"What?"

"Why don't I have your fucking phone number?"

You were absolute idiots. The two of you. Momo included. The most basic thing had slipped your mind a year and three fucking months ago.

"I..." you thought about it for a second, your gaze lost somewhere on the curtains. In the end you shrugged and shook your head.

"Fucking hell..." she snorted. "I forgot that this isn't the fucking 1960s. Let's go get breakfast before I start banging my head against the wall."

"Yeah, same."

You and Mina got out of bed feeling like a couple of retards. Neither of you brought it up again, you'd do it with Momo in a moment to see how stupid her face would be too.

Going outside and into the kitchen confirmed what you already suspected: Sana and Momo were already preparing something. One was at the counter whisking some eggs and the other near the sink, chopping vegetables.

Sana was the first to notice your presence.

"Ohayou!" she said with a smile, looking at you for a moment before looking back at the eggs she was whisking. "Did you sleep well?"

Momo turned around for a second and smiled too.

"Of course they slept well, look at those cute little faces in love."

Mina walked into the kitchen and walked over to the fridge. You stood leaning against the wall behind Sana.

“What are you two cooking?” she asked.

“Tamagoyaki and tsukemono,” Momo replied.

“Waa!” Mina grinned, pulling out a bottle of cold water from the fridge. “Oishii!”

Mina walked over to you, drank from the bottle, and offered it to you.

“What’s that supposed to be?” you asked, taking the bottle of water and then opening it and taking a long drink.

“Omelet and pickled vegetables,” Sana replied. “Nothing fancy, but it’s delicious.”

“Oh, by the way,” Momo set her knife aside and turned around to face you. “I have some errands to run, so I’ll be gone for the better part of the afternoon.”

“I have to get going, too,” Sana said, pouring the eggs into the pan. "I have a condo meeting and my landlord is coming to see the apartment."

"But you have the night off, right?" Momo asked.

"Uh..." Sana looked at her and tilted her head. "I have to go to the club, right?"

"Wrong. You're going out with us."

"You made plans without telling us?" Mina asked from beside you.

"I made them because I know you wouldn't say no," Momo turned around again to continue chopping vegetables. "We're going to a sauna. A nice, private one."

"Well, I certainly wasn't going to say no to that."

"You see? I always have everything under control. Now go set the table, please. This will be ready soon."

You and Mina got to work, and the table was ready in no time. Breakfast was ready just a couple of minutes later; Momo and Sana took care of serving it to everyone, accompanied by a delicious glass of soy milk. Everything was delicious: the omelet was kind of sweet and fluffy, and the vegetables tasted fresh.

After finishing breakfast, Sana and Momo got up from the table ready to go change and go out to do their errands. You and Mina stayed chatting at the table, while she showed you some files she had on her phone about the club's accounting. You couldn't do much with it, but it served to give you a first idea.

It was only when the girls left that you were free to discuss the matter more calmly. She took out her laptop, and accessed her Drive file to get all the files from there. You were fully expecting what you found in them: lack of control over income and expenses, lack of clear categorization, and problems with cash flow. It was a problem, but everything was perfectly reversible; it would take a few months to be solved.

With that matter sorted out for now, you and Mina were free to spend the afternoon spending quality time together.

Your favorite moment was the conversation you had while putting together a 500-piece puzzle, because the chemistry flowed like a calm river, and you couldn't have been more relieved. You both delved into each other's lives, slowly opening the doors to a growing mutual trust. This was easy, as Mina was open to answering every question without reservation, and you didn't hesitate to do the same. All of this led to a point where you felt that your relationship would only get stronger, on a horizon that looked fulfilling for both of you.

You even took a short nap on the couch, interrupted by the arrival of Momo, who gently shook you awake. You opened your eyes to find her standing beside you, handbag still in her hand. 

The sun had dipped considerably, and the room was now morose. It had to be close to 6 already. You and Mina had fallen asleep at 4.

"Wakey wakey," she told you. Mina woke up seconds later, rubbing her eyes. "Go get ready. We have to go."

"Already?" Mina asked in a small voice, followed by a yawn. She sat up.

"Our appointment is at 7, and it's going to be almost 6. So yeah, get moving."

Momo left you and walked down the hall, checking her phone. You and Mina hurried to stand up and go get dressed. It wasn't a formal occasion, and you weren't going to a crowded place either, so you didn't put too much effort into your outfit. Mina was kind of different, she always tried to look her best, no matter where she went, so you had to wait a couple more minutes for her.

By 6:30 the three of you were ready to go to the car. As you walked down the stairs Momo told you that you would pick up Sana at her apartment, and that's what you did. In no time you were all heading to the establishment where Momo had rented the sauna, which you arrived at just in time.

It was a place somewhat far from the city center, picturesque looking and full of beautiful cabins connected to small sheds on the side. Shortly after, you learned that those cabins were also part of the establishment, and that one of those sheds—specifically one of the furthest ones, almost touching the forest on top of a small hill—, was the space assigned to you.

Momo stayed talking to the receptionist while you admired the green landscape, and after a few small adjustments and details to clarify, you were assigned a worker who would accompany you to the cabin to explain how the sauna worked and what you would have to do if you wanted to adjust certain aspects such as the temperature, the lights or the music. It was a brief instruction, but effective enough to make everything easy for you.

Then the worker left, and left you alone in the cabin, which consisted of only one floor and an attic. The guy emphasized that you take a shower first to prepare your bodies for the heat. After doing so, you came out with the towels already rolled around your bodies to get into the cabin.

It was a relatively small space, perfect for four people to fit comfortably without being too crowded. Light wood walls surrounded everything, with a single decorative panel of textured concrete lit from behind. The ceiling was adorned with discs of cut wooden logs, giving the place a rustic feel. Soft, warm light emerged from hidden strips beneath the seats, arranged in three different tiered levels. In front of them, a circular stove loaded with rocks waited and was already lit. The heat immediately hit you.

“Fuck, how hot is it in here?” Sana asked, going to sit on the second level, where there was a bowl of water. The worker had explained that if you wanted to add a little steam you would just have to pour some on the rocks.

You reached for the touch panel in the booth to corroborate that information and adjust the lights in the process.

“70 degrees,” you read, dimming the lights a little and putting on a lo-fi playlist perfect for relaxing. "But with you three in that tiny towel, about 80."

The three of them laughed as they settled in. Momo sat on the top level, and Mina sat next to Sana, leaving a space between them that you sat in, hands braced at your sides. The dry heat took its toll quickly, and the four of you were practically covered in sweat within five minutes.

"So? What are your plans, sweetie?" Momo asked from behind you. She had her legs crossed just behind your head. "When are you leaving?"

You turned your head to look up at her. You'd be a liar if you didn't admit that you first saw that pair of toned legs and her cleavage on the towel before you saw her eyes.

"Day after tomorrow, 8 fucking morning," you replied.

"We can go out to lunch tomorrow then," she suggested. "And then go partying. I know a couple of good places."

"Yeah, that sounds cool. The nightlife is hella fun here."

"Hey, and you're not planning on staying?" Sana asked from beside you.

"Well, actually..." you gave a quick glance to Mina, who had a small smirk on her face. "I'll probably end up moving here. Sooner rather than later."

"Wait what?!" Momo squealed behind you, leaning forward to look at you, holding onto your shoulders. Her mouth was agape.

"I mean, you won't see me for a few months, but you'll be helping me with all the necessary paperwork," you replied with a smile, looking up at her. "Mina will fill you in on the details."

You and Mina spent the next few minutes explaining to Momo everything that needed to be done. You inevitably came up with the subject of the club's accounting, a topic she stared into space throughout your explanation of the things that were wrong and needed to be corrected.

"Damn, that's what I get for being stingy," she muttered, dismayed, but then her face changed to a smile. "But oh my god, I can't believe you're actually going to move here!"

She hugged your head from behind, you smiled and took her forearms. Sana seemed happy about it too.

"It's advantageous for everyone," she said. "Now Mina-sama won't have a sour face everywhere."

"I don't wear a sour face everywhere, you fucking-" Mina tried to go past you to pinch Sana's thigh, but you stopped her and pulled her back as Sana giggled.

A couple of minutes passed when Mina stood up and poured a little water on the stones, so that the steam emerged and covered the cabin. It was light, nothing too overwhelming. Your body certainly appreciated it.

"Fuck, it's already getting too hot," Sana said with a sigh, and then she unrolled her towel, which fell behind her and revealed her sexy, naked, sweaty body.

It was a move you were more than expecting, so it didn't surprise you. You did try to look at her as little as possible, though, so you wouldn't get an instant boner. It wasn't like they would care, but you thought that maybe it would just be an intimate moment without any lewdness involved.

How naive of you. Of course there was going to be lewdness involved; you were in a fucking sauna with three women you'd already fucked previously.

"Ah! Sana-chan's right," Momo said from behind you, and you didn't need to turn around and look at her to know she'd taken off her towel as well.

"I'm not that hot," Mina said from your left. "But it would be rude of me to still be covered up with you two naked."

Mina then took off her towel as well. You couldn't help but stare at her, and damn, her pale, shiny, sexy body looked like a fucking snack. Turning your head you were met with another stupidly hot piece of meat, but what stood out the most about Momo were those perfect pair of tits covered in sweat.

"What?" she asked, her gaze somewhere other than your eyes. "Aren't you going to take it off too? I think that thing wants to breathe."

You followed her gaze, to find that you were already harder than the wooden discs on the ceiling. Your cock was sticking out of the towel with slight throbbing, and screaming for release. It was clear that you two had already gotten into the little game, so you weren't going to bother playing dumb.

"Oh right, my bad," you nodded, and unrolled your towel to take it off, thereby freeing your cock.

All three pairs of eyes went straight to it. Sana giggled, and sat as close to you as possible, thigh to thigh. Mina imitated her.

"It hasn't even been a minute since the three of us got naked..." Sana said to your right, close to your ear, her finger scribbling on your shoulder. "That horny we make you, daddy?"

"How crazy you are about us, daddy?" Mina asked to your left, one hand caressing your thigh, quite close to your cock. "I hope not too much... that boner looks painfully hard."

Momo climbed down from the seats behind you and made a spot right behind your back. She knelt up and hugged you at pec level, her slick tits pressing against your back.

"I think he wants us to take care of it," she said in your ear, caressing your nipples and pecs. "Right daddy?"

"Oh I sure do," you replied with a gasp, and turned around to find Sana's face and parted lips inches away. Kissing her made everything go downhill.

The first thing Sana did was bring her hand to your cock, her fingers gripping tightly before slowly moving her wrist up and down, in the middle of a kiss that got heated from the start. Mina kissed your neck, her hand going from your abdomen to your balls. Momo, for her part, kissed your neck and shoulder blades, her hands still making circles on your pecs.

A couple of seconds later you moved on to kiss Mina. She added her hand to Sana's on your cock, and now you had both of them moving slowly up and down. Momo took care of your balls, extending an arm under yours to reach them and knead them carefully, purposely moving her tits up and down your back.

Sana was the first to give in to her desires and she settled back on the seat to take your cock straight into her mouth, with light suctions on the first few inches. Mina got into a similar position, to reach the side of your shaft and lick it in every way possible. Momo then came out from behind you and went to kneel between your legs to start sucking on your balls.

It was an act exactly like the one at the club last night, but this time you wanted to take a different tack.

"On your knees, all three of you," you ordered between gasps, hands on Sana and Mina's heads as they sucked your cock. "I'm gonna fuck your mouths."

"Mmm, yes daddy," Sana replied as she pulled you out of her mouth.

The three of them went to kneel on the floor, somewhat close to the stove with the stones. Mina on the left, Momo in the middle, and Sana on the right. You stood in front of Momo, who stuck her tongue out as soon as you grabbed her head to smack your cock against it several times, only to then take it inside her mouth.

You knew what they were capable of, so you weren't planning on being gentle. You shoved your cock into Momo's throat on the first thrust, and she took it like a champ, just gagging a few times before you started pumping in and out. Slow at first, fast and steady within a few seconds, not letting up until she started spilling her own saliva.

Next up was Mina, seeing as she was the one begging for it. You weren't gentle with her either, and you were fast from the start, one hand on the back of her neck and the other on her jaw. She was just as good as Momo, but every thrust you made into her throat made her gag and scrunch up her face.

With your cock now soaked to the base with a thick layer of Momo and Mina's combined saliva, you moved on to Sana. If with the previous two you had dispensed with any kind of gentleness, with Sana you went straight to being a fucking animal. She luckily took it all like an expert, with no signs of gagging even though you were destroying her mouth and making her salivate on your cock.

"Momo, make me fuck those tits, will you?" you asked, taking your cock out of Sana's mouth. "Let's take advantage of the natural lubrication."

"Mmm. of course," she nodded with a little smile. "Have a seat daddy."

You went to sit on the second step, and she went straight between your legs. Mina went to sit right behind you, wrapping her legs around your torso and pressing her slit against your lower back. Sana stayed on the floor, only to get on all fours so she could get level with Momo's ass to kiss and grope it.

Momo bit her lower lip and let out a small moan as she felt Sana's tongue between her buttocks, but she focused on what you had asked her for in the first place. She grabbed your cock, lifted her torso and placed it between her tits and then squeezed it between them.

She began to move up and down slowly, looking into your eyes between small moans that Sana elicited from her. Mina meanwhile kissed your back and neck, her hands roaming all over your sweaty body and her hips moving against your lower back so that you could feel how wet she was.

You brought your hand to Momo's chin and made her suck your thumb. She increased the speed, between louder moans since Sana was now on her knees, fingering her from behind, kissing and groping her buttocks.

Moans also escaped from you. Momo's tits had never felt this good, lubricated by a combination of saliva and sweat that in addition to their natural sponginess made your cock feel like it was inside two clouds.

"Do you want my feet or my thighs, daddy?" Mina asked in your ear with a small moan. "I'm completely yours to choose..."

"Give me your feet, baby," you replied between labored breaths. Momo was moving at her fastest pace yet. "Sana will give me her thighs and finish me off."

"Does that mean I have to stop daddy? Mmmgh," Momo moaned, her brow furrowed and her bottom lip bitten.

"For now," you added, and then she stopped to go and engage in a heated kiss with Sana, who continued to finger her as hard as her wrist would go.

Mina's feet instantly caught your cock. They moved up and down slowly at first, her toes caressing your balls and tip in circles as they went up.

"You chose my feet because you know they're magical, don't you daddy?" Mina asked in your ear, her arms wrapped around your torso, as she gave you a toe curling footjob.

"Of course I did sweetie," you managed to reply, your hips squirming slightly.

"And you like my nails?" she bit your neck and peppered it with kisses. "I got a pedicure a few days ago, so they're perfect for you."

"I can fucking feel it baby, oh my god," you moaned. Her feet were now moving rapidly up and down.

You let Mina continue to jerk you off with her feet for a few long seconds that felt like aligning all your fucking chakras. But you knew your body and you felt close, so it was time to take Sana's turn.

She and Momo were on the floor. Momo was lying down with her legs spread wide, while Sana was on the side, three fingers pumping in and out of her with one of her tits in her mouth.

"Sana, come here right now," you ordered as Mina slowed down the footjob. "Momo, baby, I'll fuck you first to make up for the interruption."

Sana gave Momo a sexy kiss and caressed her bottom lip with her thumb before standing up and going with you. Mina moved out from behind you, and knelt to your right. Momo, still agitated and visibly very horny, knelt on the opposite side. Sana meanwhile sat on her back on top of your cock, and you made her lift her hips to put your shaft between her slender, soft thighs.

"Come on baby, do the work and finish me off," you ordered, hands on her waist with kisses on her back.

"Yes daddy," she moaned, moving slowly up and down and then picking up the pace. "Is that good?" she asked between labored breaths. "You love that, daddy?"

You didn't love it, you were so fascinated that you couldn't do anything else but leave your mouth slightly ajar and lift your face to the ceiling with your eyes closed. Your fingers gripped her waist firmly, and then you moved your hands up to squeeze her tits as your cock went in and out of those perfect, slippery thighs.

As if that wasn't enough, Momo and Mina had gotten on their hands and knees, their faces just inches away from the action. They then stuck their tongues out and lingered above Sana's thighs, so that every time she went down and your tip was exposed, they would lick it.

That took you to another level of pleasure, and on top of that, Sana's ass bouncing against your pelvis felt amazing too. You couldn't help but explode a few seconds later.

"Mmmgh fuck, fuck!!" you groaned, feeling your cum jets being shot out one after another.

"Mmm yes! That's it daddy..." Sana moaned, twisting her body a little to wrap an arm around your head and kiss you. "You like how my pretty thighs drain you?"

You didn't manage to formulate a response, instead you wrapped your arms around Sana and pressed your forehead against her back between uncontrollable gasps. You could feel Mina and Momo's tongues already working, swirling around your tip and down your shaft.

When you opened your eyes and looked over Sana's shoulder you saw the mess you had made. Not only were her thighs covered in cum, but Mina and Momo's faces as well, who didn't bother to clean up until they made sure you had seen them.

Momo then grabbed Mina's face and used her tongue to clean it all over. Mina then returned the favor, but you didn't notice that either of them had swallowed what she collected. You got your answer when they knelt up, Momo grabbed Sana's chin and made her open her mouth and stick her tongue out. They both then opened their mouths and let all the cum that had accumulated inside them fall into Sana's mouth.

"Oh god..." you gasped, admiring the lewd scene up close.

Sana took every drop and swallowed it like a good girl, then scooped up what was left on her thighs with her fingers and shoved them into Mina and Momo's mouths.

"Play with each other, go on," you ordered. "I need a little break."

They happily obeyed. Sana climbed off your lap and picked up the other two to guide them to the floor. There they shared a three-way kiss, and the three pairs of hands roamed over each other's bodies. Sana touched Momo's pussy, who touched Mina's, who in turn touched Sana's.

After a few seconds they broke the kiss so that Sana and Mina focused on Momo's tits. Each took a breast into their mouths, sucking and licking. Mina brought a hand to Momo's clit, and together with Sana they began to touch her until she melted between moans. Momo didn't keep her hands still, she had both pairs of fingers now inside Sana and Mina's pussies, pumping them as fast as her own shaky, uncoordinated body would let her.

The lewd scene had you hard and ready to go within minutes. You felt bad for interrupting Momo again, but it would be worth it for her.

"Alright, come ride me, Hirai," you said, one hand on your slick cock, moving it up and down.

"Oh fuck!" she moaned, opening her eyes to look at your hard cock. "I'll gladly go, daddy."

She separated from the two of them and went with you. You made her climb with you to the last step, which was the highest and the one that had the most difference from the middle one. Momo turned her back to you and got between your legs, her ass hovering above your cock, which you took straight and rubbed between her buttocks until you found her pussy. She only had to lower her ass, and in a matter of seconds she was impaled on your shaft.

Momo moaned and clung to your knees, her wonderful round ass resting against your pelvis. Mina and Sana climbed up to the second step, where your feet were, just to continue pleasuring each other. Mina put Sana against the step and made her rest her head on it, then she climbed up to the step where you were sitting and sat on top of her face so Sana could eat her pussy.

You would have loved to see what was happening to your right, but Hirai Momo was bouncing like crazy on your cock, and you had a beautiful, privileged view of her ass bouncing and jiggling against your pelvis. Your hands went to her waist and held on there as hard as you could, but then you moved them around the front of her body and brought them to her heavy tits to squeeze them as they bounced.

After about a minute you decided to take control, given in to your carnal impulses. You stood up with Momo still impaled on your cock, and you made her climb onto the step with you to get her on all fours. She moaned and immediately arched her back, one hand resting on the floor and the other on the wall at the side of the cabin. Now you were the one moving your hips, fast and hard, filling the cabin with sounds of flesh slapping together.

"Mmmgh fuck yeah!" Momo squealed, looking over her shoulder at you, making her gleaming muscled back look even sexier. “Fuck me like that daddy! Fuck fuck fuck don’t stop!!”

You reached out and grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked it back hard, your other hand locked on her waist. Your violent thrusts had her moaning louder than either of you had yet, and drove her crazy with pleasure until she finally exploded.

“Oh fucking hell!” she growled, and you let go of her hair so she fell with her hands flat on the wood beneath her, her ass still perfectly raised as you slowly fucked her through her orgasm, which had her writhing.

Behind you, you heard Mina squeal as well. Looking over your shoulder, you found her grinding her hips against Sana’s face in the midst of an orgasm, her hands braced against the wall while Sana held her ass tightly. You then had decided who would get the next turn.

You pulled out of Momo's pussy and went to the bottom step to sit with your back against the one behind you. You wrapped an arm around Sana's waist and made her pressed against you, consequently leaving Mina's pussy. She looked at you somewhat disoriented, her chin and lips soaked with Mina's fluids.

"You still want to ride me, cutie?" you asked, licking from her chin up to taste Mina's fluids as well.

"You could ask me that any time of the day and I would run like crazy to do it, daddy," she replied, then climbed on top of you to grab your cock and take it inside her stiflingly tight pussy. "Mmmgh, and now your cute little girlfriend can't stop me, hehe."

Sana wrapped her arms around your neck and adjusted her thighs on either side of your hips before starting to move up and down. She let her head fall back, brow furrowed and mouth parted as moans began to flow out of her. You left your hands on her waist and then lowered them to her thighs, just admiring how absurdly sexy she was riding a cock.

It didn't take long for her to pick up speed and become a complete demon. Sana was an excellent dancer, you might even say prodigious, so you fully expected all that hip technique to be directly reflected in that moment. She certainly didn't disappoint, moving her hips so well and so fast that it left you paralyzed for a few seconds.

"Fuck... you really wanted to ride daddy's cock huh?" you teased, both hands on her ass as it moved on your cock. You gave her a small spank.

"I wanted it, I needed it!" she replied between moans, and lowered her head to kiss you.

With your lips dancing with each other and your tongues swirling you stopped her and stood up with her tightly wrapped around your waist with her legs. Then you walked down the couple of steps with her carried and leaned her legs wide open against the door of the cabin, now fucking her at full speed.

Sana squealed into the kiss and bit your bottom lip a little too hard, her arms now under yours and her hands on your back, nails scratching you mercilessly.

“Yes daddy yes! Fuck!!” she squealed. “Fuck my tight little pussy like the fucking little whore I am, mmmgh!!”

You moaned and buried your face in her neck to bite it, your hands gripping her thighs to both hold her against the wall and keep her legs spread wide. The constant hammering of her pussy took its toll a few short seconds later as Sana arched her back and dug her nails into your back as she came.

“Yes!! Oh god!!” she growled, hands now on your head to tangle her fingers in your hair. “Daddy makes my slutty pussy feel so good, fuck!”

You gave Sana the last few thrusts before pulling out of her and kissing her again, as you led her to one of the steps to rest. There you found Mina on top of Momo, in a sexy 69 where both of them were eating each other's pussy. Mina's ass was facing you, and you certainly weren't going to waste that opportunity.

Without warning her and without her noticing that you had gotten behind her, you knelt down and grabbed your cock to press it directly against her butthole. Mina startled and looked over her shoulder at you, and bit her lip when she noticed what you were doing.

"It's about time you came to fuck my cute ass, daddy," she said shaking it from side to side. "Come on, hard and deep, don't think about it."

You obeyed her command and slowly took your cock, still soaked in Sana's creamy fluids, into Mina's tight butthole. Momo was right below, so she caught one of your balls in her mouth as you sank deep into Mina's ass. When your cock had disappeared between that pair of bubble butt cheeks, you grabbed onto her waist and began pumping in and out.

As the seconds passed, you went straight to pumping with the sole intention of destroying her ass. That, along with Momo's mouth also on her pussy, brought her to a quick orgasm that wasn't a sign for you to stop. On the contrary, you went harder, between spankings and hair pulling that had her screaming.

But even though you loved fucking Mina from behind, you loved even more looking her straight in the eyes while you did it. So you grabbed her waist with both hands and made her get up from Momo's body to take her to the last step, where there was more room to maneuver. Up there you put her face up and with her legs wide open, to kneel in front of her and penetrate her ass again.

"You can't go five minutes without looking me in the eyes, right honey?" she asked in the middle of a moan while you fucked her hard and fast again. "Is that because you're obsessed with me?"

You put your hands on her fleshy thighs and pushed them back, pressing them against her body, to rest your hands on the wood on either side of her and lean forward.

"Obsessed is an understatement for what I am, Myoui Mina," you managed to answer between moans, your drops of sweat falling on her. "You have me fucking in love."

"Really?" Mina held eye contact with you, between squeals and labored breathing.

"I would never lie to you about that sweetie, you drive me fucking insane and I want you only" you replied, and then she closed her eyes, arched her back, and came again with screams of pleasure.

"Mmm fucking god!!" she growled. "I would scream for you to put a baby in me if only I wasn't on fucking birth control, ugh!!"

You didn't know if that was a bullet dodged or a real pity for you. Honestly, you didn't even know how to take it, so you just changed the subject.

"How about the three of you give me your pretty faces to paint?" you asked, loud enough for Momo and Sana to hear as well.

"Yeah, do that before I rip out my uterus and hand it to you on a silver platter," Mina said beneath you. If that was the start of a time where she was obsessively in love with you, you were completely down for it, tho.

You pulled out of Mina and helped her to the floor with Sana and Momo, who were already on their knees waiting for you. Mina knelt to the far right, and the three of them put their faces together under your cock with their tongues out. You just had to jerk yourself off as fast as you could, since you were also close, until you exploded in a maelstrom of moans and grunts.

The jets of thick cum shot out with force to fall directly on the sweaty faces of the three of them. You made sure to leave each face painted equally, from chin, to tongue and even forehead. Satisfactorily for you, your orgasm passed when those three beautiful faces resembled a messy canvas covered in white paint.

"God, how could you not want to stay here in Budapest..." Momo asked, still finding her breath. "Aren't we perfect, daddy?"

"You fucking are... fuck," you gasped.

"And just wait until we teach Moka-chan English," Sana said with a giggle.

You just narrowed your eyes and stared at her.

"Huh?"

You were downright drained and exhausted, so you just went to the bottom step and sat there to rest. The girls joined you shortly after Momo had turned off the heater, also exhausted. It took about ten minutes until the heat had decreased considerably and all the steam had disappeared.

You then made sure to leave everything in there clean, and with nothing else to do, you walked out with your towels on as if nothing had happened and went into the cabin to take cold showers and get dressed again. Within a half hour you were on your way home again.

That night was the quietest night for the four of you. Sana had stayed with you, and this time you made popcorn and ordered food to watch a movie. However, you went to bed early, since you all felt like your bones were aching.

The next day was the most normal of all: you had a delicious, cute and fun breakfast, played a couple of board games and then went out to lunch at a beautiful establishment that Momo took you to. Later in the evening you went to a nightclub, and you came back home with a fun drunkenness that mainly affected Sana, who had a bit too much to drink and was acting more goofy than usual.

The next morning it was time for you to leave for the United Kingdom. But it wasn't as sad as the last time, both Mina and you knew perfectly well that you didn't have to be; you would be together again, very soon.

This time there would be no more goodbyes, no more long waits to hold each other in each other's arms.

And who knows, maybe you would even get married to give birth to a mini you or a mini her.

Only time was going to tell.

————————————-

Spren Notes: Hehe. As always. Thanks for reading! MASTERLIST HERE!

[bunji-enthusiast]

Run, Run Far Angel

Note || I am obligated as a fanfic author to write this, sue me. I got attached to DogDay, and he deserved better in Chapter 3.

WC || 2,070

<(You are here)><(sequel part)>

Sypnosis || An unlikely shortcoming of a friendly entity, or, You get a new friend in spite of this hellish factory.

The noise that had buzzed in the far reaches in the depths of your ears had annoyed you to no end, insistent to remain with you. So many times over had your guilt marred your sense of peace, your sense of futility. Whatever control you felt you had in your life was completely gone the moment you had come back to the accursed place known as Playtime Co. Toy Factory. So many unruly things had gone here, things done and said that left you chuckling–few that had left you with regrets.

Regrets that had stayed with you for well over ten years, since your co-workers had disappeared. You always had a sinking feeling you knew well what had happened to the last of them, your friends and those that you had come to consider family. 

Then you fell into Playcare, a place once filled with laughter and joy, something of which was indescribable. To know the children here and being able to hear such joyful playing and sometimes the odd cry, it was fulfilling, now the whole Factory–every floor there was to know–was devoid of the very same life you’ve come to know and love all those years ago.

Now the only thing that had tormented your mind, as it always had been since you first arrived, was your fight or flight. Instinctive you were, but you hated every minute of having to run and hide away from the monster that had presided reign over their domain, on of which the very one you had to be stuck with was-

“Catnap?” You muttered, thumbing the scarred fur that was blotched with ashy spots, as if it were burned by fire. 

The small recreational stuffed animal looked so adorable for the most part, yet it disturbed you greatly, guilt was predominant in mind and body. In all of your years you had remembered working at the Factory you don't ever recall the name of Catnap, the creepy elongated mouth had stood out to you the most.

He was hunting you, toying with you for sport. You couldn’t really understand why he hadn’t just gunned you for killing you at a moment's notice, though you felt a breath of relief that you could buy yourself time.

Supposedly some of this relief is partial to the fact that this Ollie kid was guiding you on where to go, with how dark this place was is absurd to you–so the guidance was appreciated. A voice had finally snapped you out of your ever consuming thoughts, it was terribly the truth.

“Hey are you alright? Just press that button and you’ll be through in no time! The small critters cant seem to get you from up there so you should be alright.” Ollie, yes Ollie that is the kids name. Who is this strange person anyway?

Unfortunately you weren’t in a position to worry about that right now, you simply pressed the button with the help of your grabpack. Trying to remember all the hands you had now with you was troublesome, but you manage.

‘I suppose.’ You wonder if there is anyone in this place that won’t actively be out for your head, truth be told.

Maybe that was a miracle in mind, as you walked through the desolate rubble the air seemed to desaturate, a mist once permeated with dread and the iron taste of blood seemed to float away as you came across a surprising display. Gruesome but something nobody should have to see or experience. 

It seemed to be DogDay, you could've sworn coming across a cardboard cutout of the very same character earlier. 

He seemed to be so.. Sad.

“You…you’re Poppy’s angel. Come to save us. Nothing left to save, not here…You’re in CatNap’s home, angel. Their home.” His voice was broken, forlorn, vocal cords riddled with experience he never wanted to relive again. You felt saddened on his behalf, no doubt the pain he is feeling right now is tremendous. For a moment, silence had filled the comfortable atmosphere rendering you with a small pit of anxiety balling within your gut.

Still you feel as if you had to speak, but you allow Dogday to have his part, that much you could try to do for him.

DogDay’s head lolled about as if he were a ragdoll, the effort to make movement was extraneous. “A million pairs of eyes are on you now. Watching, waiting, hungry. They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin and eat away at you bit by little bit - fill what feels empty inside themselves.” Those words sparked an ire of curiosity inside your trodden heart, you wanted to help him now.

You needed help, especially answers too. He was in pain, and you wanted to help him, so to ease your guilty conscience a little; hopefully in the process of gaining a friend at the same time. “Catnap.. Just, I don’t understand him.” DogDay raised his head, looking at you wistfully as if he had expected the aforementioned cat to be brought up. 

DogDay winced as he moved, each little rattle sending painful vibrations throughout his body–the phantom legs hadn’t brought any peace to him whatsoever.

“That thing…CatNap. The Prototype is his God, and this is what he does to heretics.” His words carried an aura of ominous spiels, as if you were to heed this warning. “These little toys follow CatNap to avoid that very fate- and in return, they are fed.” 

In their place, you would take measures to avoid such a fate too if you would. To a point, you could sympathize with the small toys, not being able to do anything and the teetering possibility of being killed always hanging over your head. Knowing that alone is unfathomably terrifying.

“Would explain why they were hunting me previously..” You murmur, now tucking that thought to the depths of your mind. Still you wanted to hear out DogDay, for he knew better of what had gone on here then you did. His head had shagged, fur ruffled and dangling about as he had squirmed slightly.

“We tried to fight it, the Prototype’s control. I’m…the last of the Smiling Critters.” His tune was mournful, his friends really had been killed right before his very eyes. Catnap’s gas, you remember it well enough. 

You had to take a moment – articulate your words. You were completely filled to the brim with anxiety and alert, you remind yourself to not let down your guard in spite of being with someone who has no intention of wanting to kill you. “You had tried to escape, and he… knocked you out with his gas?”

DogDay’s brows creased, confirming your answer. You felt so terrible for him, causing you to be firmly set on a decision. 

You were helping him get out of here, in no way shape or form did you feel he should be left behind in shambles like this. “This is probably going to sound, insane. But I’m gonna help you get outta here.” Dogday perked up at this, nodding his head no.

He certainly didn’t want you to die, especially not on his account.

“Angel that is not wise! I will slow you down.” He persists, “Listen to me, you need to get out of this place. You need to live. You and Poppy can fix this, end this madness, the torment–” You didn’t want him to change your mind, so as immediate as you were, You desperately grabbed at his arms.

Quickly and surely enough the small critter toys had began crawling toward DogDay, you certainly would not put up with that. You fired a flare gun at the small critters, as much as you could so you could buy time to get DogDay out of his chains.

It seemed Dogday had sensed your determination to want to help him in spite of his warings, even with how much he had tried to convince you to leave. “You are doing well Angel, keep them away from me.. I will do my best to free myself of these.” His voice felt strained, cut off with a cough as he wriggled free–even if every brittle bone in his body had begged him to just lay there and rest.

You thanked him silently, continuing to work away at the critters who were highly determined in their goal to possess DogDay and resume their chase to kill you. “I am free! Quickly now Angel, quickly.” He ushered you forward to run right away, you picked him up as soon as he had done so and heaved him over your shoulders with a heavy breath as a display of your efforts. To say he was surprised at your willful strength was an understatement, he silently applauded you for your strength to keep moving.

Though, it hadn’t removed any of his worry for you as you continued to run forward, your muscles straining to keep up with your mind. From what he can understand of humans anyway, you were exhausted, though he felt it wasn’t right to speak out on it anyway–safety first before talking. 

“Almost there, Angel.. You just need to get to that elevator over there!” He jabbed his finger in the direction you needed to go, and you went on instinct with his direction. Your muscles ached and burned, but you could rest as soon as you reached the elevator, you couldn’t risk DogDay being left behind helpless with the small critters.

Speaking of which, they were still chasing you and your new companion. You wished they stopped, but you had considered an aforementioned thought, they only do this to ensure their fate wasn’t like his. Since then this has wildly changed.

You were close to the edge.

Then, you leaped, everything seemed to slow down. DogDay held on tightly, hands wrapped around your neck secured tight, to you it seemed comforting in the depths of your sudden despair.

You dropped right onto the metal plate, which luckily had railing. The door shut right behind you as DogDay had quickly made action to press the button to start up the elevator nor long after you had succeeded in jumping to the elevator. He slumped with a sigh, something you could very much agree with, sitting down with a thump following in your wake. 

Truth be told, you weren’t sure of how much more you could take much more of this nightmare. You may just as well be in a very long dream, and you were just actually sleeping at home, but no way however as the exhaustion had finally settled into your bones. 

Weary bones creaked about as DogDay made an effort to check over your slumped body, wanting to ensure you were not injured anywhere before he spoke, “Whatever questions you have..” He paused for a moment as if he were considering his words, something of which seemed to happen to a lot of people and toys alike in this Factory. “I will answer, rest for now first.”

DogDay was being his typical self, always so worried over someone else before considering his own health. His own legs being severed must be a great deal of pain, you wanted to ask him to rest too. Yet, you were too tired to respond, only nodding curtly as sleep had stolen you away from your awakened consciousness. 

A genuine smile seems to relax DogDay’s expression, you sorely needed rest. He would help you get that rest, things to talk about and things to face would come later. “You have done impossible things, you have run far. Thank you.” He quietly spoke, curling up to cuddle you. 

His head laid to rest on the crown of your head, hands and arms elongating ever so slightly to surround you in his warmth. DogDay was a leader, a friend, but he was also a good napping buddy. That much was certainly no lie to be told. 

Silence seemed to fill his ears now, sleep was creeping up to DogDay as well. Ah, he cannot sleep right now. You were in his care and vulnerable, especially considering you had gone through the trouble of freeing him. 

To those tormented, the madness had enraged man and toy, you were their saving graces. Someone they could get behind, without the utmost support where would you be now?

“Night has fallen, but for you I will do my absolute best to help you, Angel.”

[artificial-transmutations]

Your wish is my pleasure

Hi guys! The poll which story deserves a sequel came back pretty unambiguous! So, please enjoy more hunky Arab guys in the 3000 follower special: "Your wish is my pleasure"!

In case you want the first part first, here it is:

Greg looked at the lamp in his hand in disbelief. "Was that... because of what I said?"

One of the other guys, Maurice, who had been watching with his mouth open, nodded slowly. "It... seemed that way, bro! You wished for him to be gay and now Catherine is a fucking guy!"

Greg looked at James, and slowly, his disbelief turned into a smug grin that frightened James.

"Is that true, James? Are you gay now? Answer me!"

Again, James was compelled to answer, and so he said truthfully:

"Yes, master! That was your wish."

Greg turned around to the rest of the guys. "Man, can you believe this? We can, like, wish for *anything* now! Unlimited money!"

"Unlimited women!", Maurice chimed in, getting on board.

"I don't know, but what about James?"

It was Kit, formerly Catherine, who spoke for the first time since his transformation into a hunky guy. He seemed rather uneasy about the whole thing.

"Fuck James!" exclaimed Greg. "He's a real life genie now! Think of all the things we can wish for! You, too, Catherine! You've got a dick now as well, wouldn't you want unlimited pussy for it?"

Kit raised his arms.

"Oohkay, first, it's Kit. And second: Ew. I don't want pussy, just the thought alone..." He shuddered. "No, I prefer cock. Lots and lots of big, throbbing cocks."

Kit licked his lips and looked around at the others, who slowly backed away from Kit.

"God, you're really a fag now, aren't you?" Greg said, looking amused. "Okay, so pussy for the rest of us, and cock for Kit. Fine. It's my wish and nobody can say me and the guys don't like homos, right, guys?"

James perked up. There was a... choice. Greg had clearly said 'my wish', but it still sounded a lot like 'I wish' - enough for whatever power that bound James to give him a choice if he wanted to react to it. And James wanted to. Revenge was best served cold.

"And so it shall be, master!" he boomed, and felt the power surge through him once more.

"What? No! I didn't wish for anything!" Greg protested, but the other ones were quicker and just stared at Greg.

A wave of blue smoke emanated from James, the genie, and rolled over everyone, with the notable exclusion of Kit. As Greg breathed in the blue smog, his head was swimming all of a sudden and he had to close his eyes. When he opened them again, he suddenly saw his buddies in another light. He noticed things he never noticed before, like Maurice's cute nose or the way the muscles in his back rippled. Greg looked at his other friends and found that they were all handsome dudes. Kit was the cutest of them all, but that changed quickly. The temperature in the room seemed to rise and Greg, as well as his friends, one by one started pulling their shirts off, showcasing their changing bodies.

Every single one of them became even more handsome. Their chests gaining definition and toned muscles showing in the arms. Greg watched in wonder as his abs formed a six-pack and his hair styled itself into a modern, undeniably gay haircut. Every single one of them appeared to be well-groomed and body-focused now, even though they still had their individual touches.

"I... I'm hot." Greg whispered.

The other boys nodded. "Hell yes."

"And gay."

"Definitely."

Greg only noticed he was almost painfully hard from watching his buddies transform into a bunch of flaming homosexuals, when Maurice came over and groped Greg's cock through his jeans. Greg moaned and looked Maurice into the eyes, easily losing himself in the sight. Almost without him wanting to, their faces came closer to each other until their lips locked and they started making out. Greg moaned into the kiss and pressed his body against his friend.

While Greg and Maurice as well as the other ones were making out, Kit felt a little left out, but as he watched the two men, a certain feeling of arousal was creeping up on him. He looked at James, who was obviously also enjoying the show, judging by his tented underwear. That was a real man. Sure, the other guys were hot, but they were... American hot, but James was pure Arabian beef. And Kit felt bad for him, not able to participate.

Suddenly, he had an idea. It took a bit of strength to separate Greg from Maurice, but due to his new muscular frame, Kit managed.

"Hey, Greg, you're really hot that way. But you know what would be even hotter?"

Greg's cock was throbbing in his pants and had already formed a wet spot from his pre on the front. That was still more modest than what was going on in the background, where groins were gyrated against each other, and the first pair of jeans was being removed.

"No, what?" Greg moaned as Maurice continued to knead his groin.

"Look at James and how beefy he looks! Wouldn't you want this to be an all-Arabian orgy, instead?"

"Oh, God, Kit, that's such a hot idea." He looked at the lamp he was still holding in his hands.

"Genie, I wish that everyone here is a piece of Arab beef like you and that we all have some fun together, do you hear me? That includes you!"

This time, James was all too eager to grant the wish. With another "And so shall it be!", blue smoke emanated from his body and enveloped the room.

The changes were way more noticeable this time. Immediately, Greg felt his toned chest expand with each breath he took, but not receding as much as it expanded before. That way, his pecs solidified into two solid slabs of muscular meat, each easily the size of a plate. At the same time, his stomach also grew, but only as much as it needed to accommodate the new amount of muscle mass, forming a six pack and a delicious V-line.

At the same time, the skin covering this magnificent torso darkened into a healthy tan that was further visually darkened by the copious amount of body hair that also grew in, starting from his pecs and leading down his midsection, until it finally disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans.

Meanwhile, his back broadened to accommodate his massive, muscular shoulders, and his biceps swelled up in turn. The changes rippled down his arms, making his forearms, biceps and triceps swell until he looked like a bodybuilder.

But Greg was still standing, and his legs needed attention, too. His thighs became thicker, and his calves and shins swelled in turn, making his jeans uncomfortably tight and constricting. Moaning from the ecstasy of change, he fiddled with his jeans buttons until he finally opened them. At the same time, his shoes were torn apart from the swelling feet and fell to the ground, allowing his toes to spread out in all their glory.

Once Greg had managed to peel off his constricting pants and shook off the remains of his shoes, he could see his body changing in almost full glory. The only garment still on his body was his underwear, but that was tented to the breaking point now. His cock was throbbing like mad, coating his underwear with copious amounts of pre-cum, and with each throb, the magnificent manly rod grew even bigger. It was almost as big as James' cock already and wasn't finished yet.

At the same time, the rest of his body was continuing to bulk up. His backside was expanding, with his butt cheeks bulging out and filling the behind of his boxer shorts to the breaking point as well. All over his limbs, dark and curly hair was sprouting, adding an animalistic appeal. Especially his now enormous armpits filled out with hair and sweat, adding to the quickly evolving smell of manly musk and sexual urges in the room.

When Greg looked up, he saw that the same was happening to his other friends. Their bodies were expanding in size, gaining more muscle and more body hair. Their chests were filling out, their nipples becoming hard, dark nubs in the middle of a sea of hair. Before long, the small shop was filled with a group of hairy Arabs, and their combined smell and urges. It was getting harder and harder for Greg to restrain himself. He didn't recognize any of his friends anymore, and the blue smoke was the only thing setting James apart, who was licking his lips now. Even Kit had changed again and was now one of the similar looking but not identical Arabs in the room. His cock throbbed and Greg felt the testosterone surging in him. Fuck this. He *needed* to breed!

He growled and ripped off the underwear, and his cock finally sprang free, bouncing a little before resting, proud and hard, pointing up at the ceiling. It was the biggest and thickest cock Greg had seen in his life, and his balls, swinging below were heavy weight of their own. Still, in this room, the massive tool was about average. Everyone was more than well-endowed, and Greg couldn't wait to sink his cock into one of the beefy asses available or feel one of his friends' rods up his own. The situation grew tenser by the second, and he could already see one of the men make out with James, the genie. That must be Kit! Greg thought and smiled. He'd always been a little slutty.

Greg was getting impatient, too, though, and the lust and testosterone inside of him was making him lose his mind. He grabbed the nearest Arab and bent him over, exposing a deliciously hairy hole that was just begging to be bred. Greg didn't hold back and immediately plunged his rock hard member into the man, not caring which one of his former friends it was.

Before long, the room was filled with animalistic grunts and moans from men unhinged. Cocks were shoved up asses, and hands were jerking off the men who were lucky enough to be taken. It didn't take long for the first load of cum to spurt onto the carpet, followed by the next and the next. Soon, the air was thick with the smell of Arabian sex, and the sounds of pleasure.

As he thrust into the tight ass he had claimed, Greg couldn't remember a time when he was more aroused. The ass around his cock felt like it was made to be bred by him, and the sound of balls slapping against butt was the most satisfying thing he ever heard. He didn't know if the guy was still there mentally or not, but it didn't matter. He had an ass, and Greg had a cock, and that was all there was.

The orgy continued until the morning sun rose above the antiquity shop. Kit was exhausted as he looked around. It wouldn't be long until his grandmother came in, and probably would die from a heart attack. Valuable vases were shattered by the masculine bodies slammed against them, and furniture broken.

James looked spent, too, but content, when Kit cleared his throat.

"Honey, could you do something about this mess?"

James looked over to his lover and smiled as he snapped his finger.

"Of course, my dear. Your wish is my pleasure."

James didn't turn anyone back, of course. Wish is wish, after all. Every single one of them was now a constantly horny Arab for life. It wasn't a bad life, though, especially for Kit. Having a genie for a boyfriend certainly had its perks.

Thank you so much again! I'm already looking forward to the next special!

Oh, and since some of you asked: Of course, I will only write one sequel, this one here. However, seeing how popular the second place was, I might write another story that is suspiciously similar and in the spirit of "Calling the plumber", too ;-).

[skzdarlings]

bodyguard: the first guard | part three | chan/reader

masterlist.

(part one of the previous story.)

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | tba

( read on AO3 )

A sequel to the Bodyguard. Miroh’s daughter is assigned a bodyguard of her own. The past is confronted when old friendships and new enemies are pushed to the brink.

pairing: bang chan/reader content info: sequel to the bodyguard (felix/reader). this is a new reader perspective. the previously established story dyanmics: explicit violence, mentions of torture. mentions of past sexual abuse, detailed descriptions of needles. chapter word count: 12,525 words.

-

B E F O R E

“Happy fourteenth birthday.”

Felix looks up from his work.   He underperformed in training today and landed himself a punishment.  His good record spared him anything too painful, but he has been assigned cleaning duty.  Taking apart, cleaning, and reassembling weapons is not difficult work – he could do it in his sleep – but it is tedious.

Tedium is its own kind of torture, especially these days with his mind in a state of tumult.  He has grown closer to Chris with each passing day.  Felix knows they are not meant to think of each other as friends, just fellow soldiers, but that is the word Felix uses.

My friend.

That is who stands over Felix now.  Chris is smiling and holding something wrapped in what looks like a kitchen napkin.  Felix blinks at it, then furrows his brow.

“Huh?”  Felix says.  “It’s not my birthday.”

“Could be!” Chris says. 

Felix supposes Chris has a point.  Felix does not actually know his own birthday because he bounced around foster care before he found himself in Miroh’s program.  If his birthday was recorded anywhere, no one told him what it was.  So it could be his birthday.  The odds are not great but not impossible.

“Um,” Felix says, because no one has ever wished him a happy – or happy possible – birthday.  He guesses the best reply is, “Thanks?”

“It’s not a trick, man,” Chris says, smiling.  He laughs at Felix, though it doesn’t feel cruel, and ruffles his hair before shoving the little wrapped item at him.  “Here,” Chris says.  “Got it especially for you.”

Felix unfolds the napkin and finds a cookie.  It’s not the kind of food that is served at the regiment because their diet is so strict.  Food is a sustenance and not a pleasure.

“Wow,” Felix says.  It is a genuine surprise.  Chris had to go out of his way to get this. 

Felix feels embarrassed.  He still struggles to cope with feeling in general.  He almost yearns for a simpler, more naïve time, when he didn’t have to think or feel, just trust and follow.  Now he is a flustered knot of embarrassment because Chris is giving him presents just because Felix mentioned he had never received one.  It was an off-handed remark a few days ago, that he didn’t know his birthday and had never received a present but that it didn’t matter because he didn’t deserve it.

And he didn’t, he doesn’t, deserve any of it.  Not a birthday wish or a thoughtful gift or Chris’s friendship.  Felix has so much blood on his hands and he doesn’t how much of it is innocent.  He never counted his kills like some other agents, stupid kids bragging to seem bigger and more powerful than their circumstances.   Felix never did it for glory.  He knew his place.  Now he doesn’t count them because it doesn’t matter.  It all comes back to him when he closes his eyes.  He remembers what they were wearing, what they said before they died, the things they begged to a naïve, indifferent child.

He doesn’t count them because he doesn’t need a number to know it’s too much and he will never be able to take it back.  He doesn’t deserve birthdays and friendships and Chris.  He never will.

He doesn’t say this out loud.  He knows Chris will argue with him, belligerent in his kindness and reassurance.  Felix won’t listen in turn.  The conversation would be useless.  Rather than bother, Felix asks, “Where did you get it?” 

“Hey, I know I’m trouble,” Chris says, still smiling, “but I got connections too, you know?” 

Felix guesses he means Miroh’s daughter as she is the only agent with outside connections.  They seem to have a tenuous understanding because she and Chris get in the most trouble.  Chris, because he still bristles at commands and steps out of line.  Her, because she’s Miroh’s daughter and held to a higher standard than the rest of them.

Chris can befriend almost anyone, garnering admiration in his peers if nothing else.  His rebellious streak means no one wants visible association with him, but in the quietest of corners there is a whispered respect for the First Guard.  He is as notorious as he is skilled and he has a natural leadership.

Felix supposes it is not outside the realm of possibility that even Miroh’s daughter would consider Chris a friend – but only somewhere even quieter than most.

Felix does not consider Miroh’s daughter a friend and he doubts he ever will.  Her proximity to Miroh makes her an even bigger liability than Chris.  Felix would never get close to someone like that, born into their position and too close to power for his liking.

“Miroh’s daughter, you mean,” Felix says.

Felix might keep his musings close to his heart, but that doesn’t mean Chris can’t read them anyway.  Chris is a soldier by instinct if not choice.  He is always one step ahead.  It’s like he is inside Felix’s head.  He seems to know what Felix will do before Felix does.

“Yeah,” Chris says.  He rubs the back of his neck, breathing deeply.  He looks almost sheepish, as if admitting he knows better.  “She’s not that bad when you get to know her.  Really.”

Felix is certain he looks unconvinced.  It makes Chris laugh.

“You look worried,” Chris says. 

“I do worry about you,” Felix says.  He looks down at the cookie in his hand.  It is hard to say out loud, but he manages a weak, “You’re my friend.”

Chris is suspiciously quiet.  When Felix looks up, Chris has a determination to his countenance. 

“Find me when you’re done here,” Chris says.  “I wanna show you something.”

Felix, as usual, does as he is told.  When his punishment ends, he tracks Chris to the barracks where the older boy is patiently waiting.  He claps Felix on the shoulder but otherwise doesn’t stop to greet him.  He is a little skittish as he leads Felix to their mysterious destination.

It is not so extraordinary in the end.  Nothing around here is.  Everything is cold chrome and sleek silver, one room much like the next, branded by Miroh as surely as its occupants.

Chris knocks out a ventilation panel then leads Felix to what looks like an unused crawl space, forgotten and collecting dust.

“Welcome to my office,” Chris jokes, still with that nervous laughter.  It is putting Felix on edge.

“Is everything all right?” Felix asks.

“Well, no, Felix,” Chris says.  “It isn’t.  You know that now, don’t you?”

A couple years of shared assignments between the best and second best, the rebellious and the reluctant.  A couple years of watching Miroh bludgeon his way through the world.  A couple years of regret.

A couple years of friendship to change everything.

“Yeah,” Felix says.  It is all he needs to say.

“Sit,” Chris says.  There is a corner of the room that has been cleared of dust, this part of the hideaway evidently well-used.  “Let’s talk.” 

Whatever conversation Felix expects to have, it is not the one he gets.  He sits and watches Chris, watches him breathe and measure his words.   Chris is usually confident in what he has to say, even when staring down a barrel of a gun.  This is more than disconcerting.

“I’ve been talking to some others in the program,” Chris says.  “We’re all growing up.  I’ll be eighteen soon.  If we’re already strong, we’re just gonna get stronger.  Miroh has complete control over us.  I’m scared that if we don’t do something about it soon, then everything is going to get worse.  A lot, lot worse.”

“Do something,” Felix says, his mind going a mile a minute.  “What do you mean?  Who else have you told about this?”

“People I consider friends,” Chris says.  He puts a hand on Felix’s shoulder.  “People like you, Felix.”

He thinks of the cookie in his pocket.  His heart punches up with alarm. 

“Miroh’s daughter?”  Felix asks and this time he knows for certain his thoughts are very clear.  He says her name – not even her name, her position, the daughter and heir of the very thing Chris wants to fight – and he says it with the obvious inflection of what-the-fuck-are-you-thinking? 

“She’s a friend,” Chris says in a voice he usually reserves for an enemy.  It startles Felix into silence.  Seeing that, Chris smiles, trying to lighten the mood.  “You don’t have to trust her,” Chris says.  “Just trust me.  Felix, I want to get us out, all of us.  I don’t want that man or any other man like him to hurt anyone else.  Not kids, not adults, not anyone.  I won’t put you in more danger, I swear.  That’s the opposite of what I want.  I’m gonna protect you, okay?  I’m gonna protect all of you.  When the time comes to take a stand, I just want you to be ready.  If something happens, if it all goes wrong…”

Felix looks at him, alarm and worry plain on his young face.  Chris squeezes his shoulder again.

“If…” Chris swallows then continues, “If it is all goes wrong, I’ll pay the price alone.  But I’d rather die trying to save all of you than live another day hurting innocent people for Miroh.”

“Chris—” Felix starts, an argument on his tongue.

“Don’t,” Chris says firmly.  “If there was anything worth dying for, Felix, then it’s this.  I’m gonna get you out.  I’m gonna get you all out.  I swear.  Just be ready for when I say.  Just trust me.  Just be my friend.”

Felix spends a week after that in a state of restless turmoil.  He sleeps poorly and fights worse and even spends a night in the Cell for his mistakes. 

He doesn’t know what to think about Chris and his intentions.  It sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.   But if it worked…

It wouldn’t take the blood off Felix’s hands, but it would be a start to something better.  Felix has little thought for his own fate, undeserving as he is, but he thinks about Chris.  Chris, the First Guard, who has been here the longest, who has watched the most people die, who has been punished the worst.

Chris deserves better.

Felix believes in Chris.  He believes if Chris made an effort, then he would have what it takes to make a difference.  Felix knows Chris is capable. He could do what he sets out to do.

It is not Chris that Felix worries about.

Felix observes Miroh’s daughter, studying her more closely than ever before.  Felix trusts Chris’s general discretion but he worries Chris has a blind spot concerning her.  They are the only two in their age category and they share a small barrack, the forced proximity undoubtedly creating a semblance of intimacy.  Chris might trust her but Felix is not so biased.  All he sees is Miroh. 

Felix watches her.  She doesn’t spend much time with Chris in public, her only close relationship with Seo Changbin.  They are a bit notorious together.  Felix would not call them the best fighters but they are tricky.  He is pretty sure they throw their fights with each other and embellish more than necessary.  Both like a good skull crash, more brutal than efficient.  The trickery and brutality makes Felix more wary of her.

At the same time, her obvious friendship with Changbin shows she can care about someone else.  The pair throw a mean punch but always patch each other up after.

Chris catches Felix watching them.  They are having a go in the ring, punching and flipping, grinning when they think no one is watching.  They have smiles just for each other.

“You look really deep in thought, mate,” Chris says, laughing.  He hands Felix a water bottle while toweling down his own sweaty neck.

“Huh?” Felix finally breaks his concentration.  He takes the water and smiles one of his instinctive but fake smiles – the kind he uses on a mission, when he is trying to convince an adversary that he is an innocent, unassuming kid.

Chris sees through it, of course.  He lifts an eyebrow at Felix then follows his line of sight to the ring.

“What?” Chris says, laughing again.  His own ears turn a little red as he teases, “You got a crush on her or something?”

“Ew, shut up,” Felix says, throwing his own towel at him.  He feels flushed despite the fact it is vehemently untrue.  He is not used to being provoked with that line of teasing.  “No,” he says certainly.  “I have no feelings for anyone.  But I think they might.”

“Huh?”  Chris looks between Felix and the ring.  “What do you mean?”

“I mean, look at them,” Felix says.  “They’re a little too close, don’t you think?” 

Presently, Miroh’s daughter has Changbin pinned to the mat.  She is on top of him and whispering something that makes them both snicker.

Chris stares at them.  After a beat of contemplative silence, he laughs.  Felix recognizes the fake sound, the same disarming humour Felix uses when conning someone.   

“Yeah,” Chris says.  “Hey, I’ll be right back, yeah?”  

Felix watches Chris amble over.  He says something to the duo and Changbin retaliates with some non-descript shouting and flailing.  Miroh’s daughter rolls her eyes.  She grabs Chris by the collar and yanks him into a fight. 

The rest of the day progresses without much fuss or bother.  Miroh has no jobs for them today so the schedule is just training and recuperation. 

Felix manages to avoid punishment today.  He tries expelling his anxiety in a fight but it does not fully work.  Felix has come to realize he is not very good at letting go.  Belief, emotion, the good, the bad: all of gets clutched in his fists and held to his heart.

Fighting tires him but it is not a satisfying tired, of exerted muscles and a pumping heart.  He feels weary and everything everywhere is so loud, the chrome and steel of the Miroh facilities like an echoing dome.  It cycles all that noise in an agonizing reverberation.  It feels inescapable.  He goes to the barracks which are smaller but it makes the claustrophobia worse.

Laying in his bunk, rubbing his temples, Felix dreams of a quiet room of his own.

It is then he remembers Chris’s hideaway.  Chris miraculously dodged punishment today so he retreated to the barracks a while ago.  Felix doesn’t want to disturb him but he figures Chris won’t mind him using the hideaway on his own if he’s careful.

They are permitted access to the training room for the few hours between work and mandatory repose.  The hideaway is en route so it is easy for Felix to stealthily retrace his steps without raising suspicion.  He disappears in the security blind spot the way Chris showed him.  

Felix is in the tunnel when he hears a noise.  He worries he was followed despite being so careful, but then he realizes the noise is ahead of him, not behind him. 

He freezes in the crawl tunnel, trying to discern the sound.  It doesn’t sound like talking, more like… breathing?  Heavy breathing. 

Then he hears a laugh that he recognizes as Chris.  And he is not alone.  The other noise is a sigh, a lighter, more feminine sound.

Oh.

Apparently, Chris’s hideaway is not just for talking to friends.  The sound of kissing and sighing is more friendly than his conversation with Felix, that’s for sure.

Felix is frozen for a minute, too stunned and embarrassed to think of moving.  He has to shuffle backwards to escape because he can’t turn in that part of the crawl space.  If this was a mission, he could do it, but this is personal.  He doesn’t want to get caught but it’s not because it will compromise any job; it’s because it will be awkward.

He scuffs his shoe in his backwards shuffle.  It clangs, a subtle sound, but one that makes him wince.

It goes quiet around the corner.  Felix knows he was heard and there is no time to escape.  Seconds later, a frantic looking Chris is in the tunnel, red-faced with a line of sweat on his brow.  His uniform is clearly dishevelled and Felix gets even more embarrassed.

Those feelings need somewhere to go.  It comes out of him in a burst of frustration.

“What are you doing?” Felix demands, his voice breaking. 

“Nothing!” Chris says, clearly a knee-jerk reaction.  Then he takes a breath and says, “Look, I can explain—”

“It’s not Miroh’s daughter,” Felix says.  He can’t even pose it as a question because he refuses to believe Chris could genuinely be that reckless and stupid.  Befriending her is one thing – a stupid thing – but fooling around with the daughter of the powerful man who owns them is begging for tragedy. 

“I’m not stupid,” Chris says. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Felix says.  “Whoever it is, you need to stop.” 

“Look—”

“Seriously, Chris!”

“Felix—”

“It’s not worth it!”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Chris snaps.  “You’re not normal and you don’t understand what it means to care about someone like that.”

It is obviously thoughtless, blurted in the head of the moment.  It hurts anyway. Felix wonders if Chris can see the pain on his face because Chris looks immediately remorseful. 

“Look, I didn’t mean it like that—” Chris starts.

“It’s fine,” Felix says.  “You’re right.”

“Felix—”

Felix pushes backwards and leaves without waiting for any protest.  He does not stop, marching all the way back to this bunk.  Anger and embarrassment have finally dissipated by the time he returns.  It has been replaced with determination.

Chris is the best, but he has been compromised whether he wants to acknowledge it or not. He feels too much, for everyone and everything, and it will get him in even more trouble than he is already in.  if he retaliates with thoughtless provocation when it’s just Felix confronting him, then what will he do when it’s Miroh and the stakes are even higher?

Chris said he would protect them all. He swore to succeed at any cost, including his own life.  There is no one swearing the same for him.  No one has ever protected him. 

Felix is the second best.  He has never left a job unfinished and for that he is not deserving of the protection Chris is offering.

It won’t clean the blood on his hands, but if Felix can save a life worth more than his own, then maybe it will start to justify all of this, all of him.

Chris was right.  Felix is not normal.  But he was wrong say that Felix doesn’t know what it means to care about someone.  Because of Chris, Felix knows how to care.  He knows what he has to do.

Chris can try and save them all.

Felix is going to save Chris. 

-

P R E S E N T   D A Y

Miroh’s main facility has fallen.

It sounds so dramatic for something so anticlimactic, like you are describing the collapse of a kingdom and not the shutdown of his main office operation. 

It feels like an apocalyptic demise. 

You and Chan fight your way out of the building, taking on the people who fight in your name.  Your father’s name.  Miroh.

Miroh is dead.  Irrefutably broken, little more than a heap of meat on the tarmac.  With him gone and the only named heir on the run – you – this facility will shut down to maintain security. 

Miroh ran a meticulously compartmentalized business. There is protocol for everything so even if one part of his operation fell, the rest could continue unimpeded.  Miroh tried to establish a legacy that could rival old money like his enemy, going so far as to predict his own demise.  Miroh has long braced for the eventuality of his end, so he made sure his business could fracture and run without him.

He did everything in his power to make you just like him, a little broken fracture of himself to ensure that legacy.  But then he could not actually face what he created.  He could not actually let go.  He was the only one with the perspective and power and he had to keep it that way. 

Miroh would not have accounted for your rebellion, not for the sake of someone else.  For a friend.

Flashes of the last twenty four hours play in your mind.  You can hardly pinpoint the change in yourself.  It feels like this was somehow inevitable, despite how much you would have balked at the idea before.  But now it is all that matters.  It’s all that makes sense in this chaos.

You have to find your friend.  This facility will be empty in a matter of hours, but there are others.   Changbin is in one of them.  You have no idea where to start.

One thing at a time, you tell yourself.  Before you can ruminate on anything behind or in front of you, you need to fight.  You do not have time for introspection or planning.  You need to get away.  Away from this place, away from your dead father.

Away from his soldier, the First Guard, Bang Chan, who for some reason is helping you escape.

You don’t know why.  You seriously doubt your barely coherent pleading broke the conditioning and literal torture that made him into this thing. 

You don’t have time to find out.  At the first opportunity, you break away, leaving him with a handful of operatives to fight.  It should keep them all occupied while you escape. 

You do not want to risk trapping yourself in an enclosed space, so you do not venture to the parking garage where the company vehicles are stored.  Some of them will be programmed and bugged.  You feel bad targeting a civilian, but stealing one of their cars is the safest bet.   There are some administrative employees who complete menial tasks for the company, those with next to no clearance level.  They park their personal cars around the facility.  You pick one that is easy to reconfigure without a key to boot. 

Minutes later, you are driving for an exit.  Your whole body is aching but you push through it.  There will be time to recuperate when you are in the clear. 

Sirens wail and alarms blare, every security measure in action.  Your escape is certainly not a clean one but it doesn’t matter.  You just need to get away.

If you can get off the facility grounds, you can lose any adversaries in the back country roads.  The route to the facility was intentionally designed to be a convoluted labyrinth, making it difficult for enemies to approach without giving the facility ample preparation time.  You know the paths better than anyone.  You can get away.

A soldier marches right into the middle of your escape path. 

It is too brazen for a regular agent.  They would not be so stupid to try that, knowing you would just barrel into them. 

You speed closer and recognize the First Guard.  Chan is unflinching as ever, standing in the middle of the road as if he intends to stop your car with his body.   He is strong but not that strong.  You know that.  But he looks like an inhuman phantom, looming there in his combat gear and mask, unphased and unharmed despite the hour of nonstop violence.   

But that’s not the reason you stop.  You think about him in that van.  You could only see his eyes but they were expressive, the tilt of his head inquisitive. 

You slam on the brakes.  The car stops inches from his body but he doesn’t even blink.  

Your heart is racing, breath bursting in gasps.  He strolls around the car as if he was just waiting for his ride. 

Soldiering instinct propels your hands.  You draw a gun as he opens the passenger-side door.  He bends down and looks at you, his brow quirked with a silent question.  Your hand shakes and he is too good not to notice.  You know that, but a regular person would never guess because he does not take his eyes off yours. 

He disarms you, faster than a blink.   He drops into the passenger seat, then slams the door and shoves the gun in its storage compartment.

You stare at him.  Your gaze follows the line of his stark profile.  His hairline is a little sweaty but he doesn’t look out of breath.   

You don’t know what to think. 

This is the longest you have been in his company since you were kids in training.  Your memory of him is insubstantial, having spent little to no time with him personally.   But it hardly matters what he was.   Now he’s a soldier above all soldiers, a shadow filling this small civilian car.  He’s not the biggest man in the world but he’s overwhelming all the same, partially because of his uniform and partially because of his posture.  He feels too big for this little human space.  His knee hits the gear shift, his thighs bulky in the small seat, his shoulders broad where he leans back. 

He looks across the car and meets your eyes.  You think about how many people have met this gaze, maybe in a moment just like this, sitting across from Miroh’s asset in a little civilian vehicle before he put a bullet between their eyes or snapped their neck.  You have seen the results of his missions even if you were not involved in them.  The statistics and numbers speak for themselves.  Those eyes have seen more death than life and right now they are resolutely focussed on you. 

You jump when he lifts his hand.  He says nothing but turns the rearview mirror in your direction.  You reluctantly peel your gaze away from him.  You see what he sees: a vehicle in rapid pursuit of your own.

“Shit,” you say.  You shove the mirror back into place.  Your hands collide for a split second. 

You can’t linger on the weirdness of this moment, that the First Guard is your ally, sitting in the passenger seat and helping you escape.

You drive.  The other vehicle chases you down.  You get past the easy security measures, blowing past gates and guards.  When you approach the last gate, Chan rolls down the window and twists his body.  He pulls the stashed gun and aims somewhere.  Your eyes are on the road so you don’t see exactly what he does, but the gate slams shut between you and the pursuing vehicle, trapping them on the other side.    

Then it is just you, him, and the road. 

He puts the gun away.  He sits back.  He rolls up the window.  He makes it seem like a routine, still unphased while your heart pounds with adrenaline. 

You do not look at him.  You do not speak.  You focus on escape, taking a convoluted path through the countryside just in case.  When the facility is far, far behind you, you take a back road and pull into a shadowed space between some trees. 

You slam to a stop, shift the gear to park, but keep the engine running.  You clutch the steering so hard, you imagine it cracking beneath the force of your grip. 

Chan still does not speak.  The last time he spoke was on that rooftop.  What now? 

A damn good question. 

You look at him.  He is not sitting the way you would expect a machine of a man to be sitting.  You would have thought the First Guard would sit straight-backed and braced for confrontation, but his slouch is almost insouciant. He sits with his knees apart, his body slanted where his elbow rests on the door.   One gloved hand strums the door and the other is draped over his thigh.  He looks at you without any expression you can interpret. 

You are tired.  Your body hurts.  Your father is dead and the operation is changing and your only friend is suffering and you can’t do anything about any of it.  This morning you held a modicum of control over your life – or you thought you did – and now everything has spiralled. 

You know logically that Chan is a victim of Miroh, but right now it does not matter.  He is an infuriating figure of composure, not to mention your father’s greatest weapon, and that combination snaps the elastic thread of your patience, already stretched to its limits.

“Take off the fucking mask,” you say. 

He stares at you, his expression still unreadable.  You are tempted to reach across and rip the mask off his face.  You would definitely not succeed, no match for his reflexes on a good day, but logic is inconsequential in the face of your emotions. 

He doesn’t test you.  He stares for another moment then raises one gloved hand.  He unhooks the mask and peels it off.  He runs the other hand over his face and through his hair.   

You are not sure what you were expecting.  The same brown eyes stare back at you, lined with a smudged shadow to look as dark and intimidating as possible.  His brows are thick and dark, his hair as black, sweat loosening the slick style so a single curly tuft falls over his forehead. 

You follow the slope of his nose down to his mouth.  His mouth is closed and he is not smiling.  He has full lips, almost too pretty for what he is.  Glancing at that mouth on that too-pretty face, you picture a dimple smiled.  The memory is almost a blur, a smear of an image over his face.  You blink and it’s gone, his stoic face staring back at you. 

“What is it?” he says.  His voice is like the rest of him, too big in this small space.   You swear it shakes the car and the earth under it, though that is ridiculous.  It’s just a voice.  He’s just a man. 

Except he’s not.  He’s something else, something that should not have done what he did.  You have a million questions.  You need those answers before you can continue but it all jumbles together in your head.  It’s all too much, the flashes of today, of the past, of an uncertain future full of even more violence.

You finally turn off the engine and get out of the car.  You have no intention of going anywhere, but you need space. 

You pace in a long line, breathing in and out, using every trick in the book to ease your racing heart.  After a minute, you hear the passenger door open.  You look over your shoulder at Chan.

You can’t help the instinctive reaction to measure him like an adversary.  It doesn’t help he has pummelled you twice in the last few months, not to mention his horrid reputation in an already horrid place.  It would be stupid not to brace yourself. 

He approaches you cautiously.  He has the gall to raise a hand like you are the wild thing and he is the tamer. 

“Easy,” he says.  His voice is not so booming out here.  Other than the dark combat uniform, he almost looks normal, his whole face open to you, eyes narrowed with intense focus. 

It makes you breathe harder, the exhale shaky.  He notices because he tries to placate you. 

He smiles. 

It is forced and unpracticed, but there are those dimples, just like you thought.  You would have been less startled if he bared his teeth like an animal.  The smile unnerves you, undoing all the calming work of your exercises. 

“It’s all right,” he says in a frighteningly gentle voice.  He tilts his head as he looks at you.  “It’s just me, yeah?”

Just him.  Like that should comfort you.  You suppose you can marginally see things from his perspective, that maybe he has proved himself.  After all, he helped you escape.  It is obvious he is not doing this for your father or he would not have let you kill him.  This is not part of a grand plan.  There is no strategy.  It’s all over. 

It’s just you and him.

It does not comfort you the way he evidently thinks it should.  Now is the time to ask those million questions, but you are beyond words.  You are a live wire and that pitiful attempt at a truce ignites a flare of angry sparks. 

You were built to fight.  It punches out of you.  Literally.

Chan is faster than you.  He dodges your swing with ease, fast as an electric current himself. 

“Hey now,” he says, holding out both hands.  “Don’t—”

You know you can’t win this fight.  You know it’s stupid to try.  But each swing flies out of you, instinctive as breathing.  He catches every blow, bats your hands out of the way, but he doesn’t swing back.  His refusal to fight infuriates you.  It makes you feel as helpless as you are. 

An aggravated cry spills out of you, a strain behind your eyes as you take another swing. 

“Stop it,” he snaps, his smile gone. 

He finally goes on the offense, catching your hands and pinning them down.  There is a moment of struggle before you feel the driver door at your backside, his body caging you in.   You rear up against him but he holds you down, hip to hip, hand to hand. 

“I said stop it,” he says.  “What are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” you ask, voice breaking.  “What the fuck are you doing?” 

Your chest is pressed against his, moving with your breath while he stands like an ungiving wall.  You glare at him and he stares back.  His brow furrows in seeming confusion.  He closes both eyes and breathes out, a steadying breath. 

You thought seeing him lose composure would make you feel better, but you feel worse, more unnerved than before. 

He looks at you, a muscle in his jaw feathering when he clenches it.  You stare at it as he releases you.

“You must know I can’t trust you,” you say. 

You make the mistake of lifting your hands to shove him away.  You do not intend to punch him again, the worst of that aggression gone, but he doesn’t know that.  You suppose you can’t blame him for his instincts after your demonstration. 

When you lift your hands, he grabs your wrists.  Swiftly and effortlessly, he pins your hands by your head.

“Oh,” he says.  His eyebrows lift and his face is far more expressive than you expected.  “I’m the one who can’t be trusted, right?” 

“Excuse me?” you snap. 

“I’m doing my job, yeah,” he says.  “Yesterday you were running jobs for Daddy and today you shot him dead.  Wanna talk about erratic behaviour?  Wanna talk about who’s unpredictable?  About who can trust who here?” 

Your mouth parts with a useless, breathless rebuttal, stammering and empty.  You didn’t expect that many words from him, not when he has been a silent shadow for so long.  Never mind the easy, casual speech, every colloquialism and the taunting hurl of daddy.  It makes you think of that scathing, troublesome boy he once was, as sharp with his tongue as everything else.  But he is not that boy.  You know for a fact he was broken.  He has done all those jobs for Miroh without causing any strife in the operation.  He is a weapon and nothing more.  He exists to follow orders. 

Until today.  Until you. 

“So?” you finally say, because what else can you say? 

“So?” he repeats. 

“So.”  You have those million questions, but there is only one that really matters.  “What are we?  Soldiers without a general? Because right now it seems like we’re two people who have no reason to trust each other and no reason to work together.” 

Your gazes are locked and you measure each other.  Not that you are much of a threat to him.  He has you pinned with very little effort.  If you were at your fighting best, you like to think it would be a little challenge, but right now you stand no chance against him.  

But he doesn’t want to hurt you or he would have done it already. 

He drops your hands.  He doesn’t step away, still regarding you with that scrutinous eye, but it is a menial demonstration of trust. 

You drop your arms.  You stare back at him, refusing to show the depth of your weakness.  You think his body might be keeping yours upright, your legs so weak.  You do everything in your power to keep your wild emotions in check, to keep the tears in the back of your eyes.  You breathe deeply. 

“I’ll help you find your friend,” Chan says, the last thing you expect him to say.  You can only watch as he sighs and speaks.  “You were my last mission,” he says. “Miroh told me to bring you in.  I did.  He wanted me to watch you.  I am.  He wanted me to be your—”  He laughs but it is not a happy sound, dry and devoid of pleasure.  “Your bodyguard, I guess.”  He shakes his head.  “Consider this me following orders,” he says.  “That’s what I do, yeah?  I follow orders.  And I don’t leave a job unfinished.  Ever.” 

“And Miroh?” you say tentatively.  “The fact I killed him?”

He shrugs dramatically, hands open in surrender. 

“Miroh didn’t make me his bodyguard,” Chan says.  “He made me yours.” 

It is such preposterously simple logic that you laugh, a disbelieving bark of a sound.  You look around at nothing, like the answer to your ridiculous circumstance is in the trees or the road.  

When you look at Chan, he is still looking at you, his brow quirked inquisitively. 

“Well?” he says.  “Is that enough?  Can we work together to finish this last job?” 

“Your job,” you say slowly.  You meet his eyes.  “So that’s what I am to you?”

It’s meant to be an easy question with a reassuring answer.  He is a soldier.  You are his job.  He will do what you ask.  It’s as simple as that. 

He tilts his head as he looks at you.  His contemplation is too heavy.  It was a simple question for a simple soldier who should speak no language outside of missions and reports. 

His gaze is searing and it makes your heart skip a startled beat. 

“Yes,” he says.  He speaks the word like it’s exhausting to say out loud.  It lands with a thud on an exhale.  “My job.”

His forearm is planted by your head.  His other hand grips your bicep.  He is keeping you in place with his hips and thighs.  You can feel the tension in his body. 

You have no idea why you do what you do.  It comes from the same place as those desperate punches.  You know it’s useless, you know nothing will come of it, but you ride the propulsion of adrenaline.  Your body, on the brink of desperation, has been pushed to its utmost capabilities in the last couple hours.  What does it want?  What do you want?

What did you ever really want?

You kiss him. 

It shocks you both.  Unlike the punch, he does not know how to retaliate.  He stands there, breathing into your mouth.  He is neither encouraging nor withdrawing. 

You stop quickly and wipe your mouth.  Mortification sets in. 

None of this is like you.  You blame stress.  Your body is confused and hurt.  You need recuperation.  Whether you like it or not, you need comfort too.  It is a deep internal call, only human.  But you won’t be getting that from the solid, inhuman wall around you. 

You push at that wall and it finally gives.  Chan steps back.  You doubt a punch would have moved him so easily as that kiss. 

“Ignore that,” you say.  “Adrenaline.  I’m still – not right.”

He just stares, once more a silent shadow.  You breathe out in a huff. 

“Okay,” you say.  “And we’re back to the staring.  At least I know you’re still working.”

You turn to open the car door, effectively ending the tense exchange.  Chan walks away.  He silently circles the car to reach the passenger door.  You look at his face, once more stoic and expressionless.  He doesn’t look at you, dropping into the vehicle without another glance or sound. 

You close your eyes.  You take another deep breath of fresh air.

Maybe this is good.  Maybe Chan is the ally you need right now.  Someone level, someone only concerned with mission parameters.  Someone who will not become compromised because of emotion. 

Because you are very compromised. 

You are not thinking clearly.  You need a plan and some water and rest. 

You get in the car.  You start the engine.  You don’t speak another word.

-

You drive for hours, wanting distance between you and the destruction.

The silence in the car is piercing, your head aching after the first hour.  The little space acts like an echo chamber for your tumultuous thoughts.  You keep replaying the day, every death and cry.  You think about your security team strewn across those stairs, just another casualty in Miroh’s game.  You think about your father, the unplanned murder but the utter lack of regret in your heart.

You think about Changbin.  Your reckless side wants to look for him right now.  You cannot stand to waste another second.  Based on your father’s words, he could be anywhere, subject to any number of horrors.  But despite the whirlwind tempest of your mind, there is a soldier inside you and she is more pragmatic.  You are in no condition to fight.  Even if you knew Changbin’s exact location, you would be no use to him.  You need to rest, formulate a legitimate plan, then attack. 

You can’t afford to make any mistakes.  Better than anyone, you know the forces you are up against. 

You pull into a highway fill-up station at dusk.  The car needs fuel and so do you.  There is a little shop near the fuel pumps, the place deserted other than the bored cashier behind the counter. 

There was some cash in the glove box, enough for necessities.  You will inevitably need to steal or manipulate, but you prefer to lay low tonight.  You were careful to avoid traffic cameras and security tv as you exited the previous city.   By the time the car is reported and Miroh’s operation works out your connection, you will be off the grid. 

You turn off the engine and reach for the wallet.  Chan snatches it first. 

“What are you doing?” is spoken in unison. 

“I’m going to buy us some fucking water and food,” you say. 

“Are you?  Really?”  He gives you a pointed up-and-down look.  “You gonna do that looking like you just played cannonball with a cement wall?” 

You have not gotten a good look at yourself, just a flash in the rearview mirror, but he is probably right.  You feel like utter shit so you must look it too. 

“Well, you can’t go in there either,” you say.  Even without the mask, he is clearly in an unusual uniform.  A bored clerk will remember a terrifying soldier in combat clothes marching through his shop. 

Chan flashes you a dimpled smile, frighteningly charming.   

“Sure I can,” he says.  “Just have to blend in.” 

Your eyes widen as he discards both gloves then opens the neck of his shirt.  You stare as he efficiently strips off his top layers. 

If he looked powerful in the uniform, he looks as just as intimidating without it.  He doesn’t boast gargantuan proportions but he doesn’t need it.  There is lethal strength to the rolling musculature of his sturdy body. 

You shouldn’t care.  Soldiers strip all the time, long assignments and shared compartments making it an inevitability.   But Chan is not just another soldier.  In your head, he is that living shadow, covered all the way up to his eyes in the Miroh black and blue.  Seeing all that skin is a startling reminder of the man under the mask. 

You find Chan watching you, amused.  That stupid eyebrow is quirked again. 

“What?” you snap. 

“Nothing,” he replies.  “Be right back.  Don’t miss me too bad.”

You roll your eyes, slumping in your seat as he gets out of the car.  You have half a mind to drive away but you are pretty sure he would find a way to manifest at your destination anyway. 

You watch as he enters the shop in a nonchalant stroll, wearing just his pants and boots.  He waves at the cashier and says something that makes him laugh. 

To his credit, Chan looks like a regular guy on a hot day, casually perusing a gas station shop.  He makes small talk with the cashier and they laugh some more. 

You knew Chan was a good soldier but you didn’t expect him to be such a good agent too.  He is probably better at the civilian act than you.  You are standoffish and opt for a quiet demeanour, blending in through invisibility rather than a persona. 

Chan walks in and out, the cashier unaware of the nature of his customer.  You return to the road with a full of tank of gas and some sustenance. 

“Are you going to put your shirt back on?” you ask. 

He gives you a side-eye as he shrugs the outermost layer back on.  He doesn’t do it up.  You refuse to act like a glimpse of his bare chest means anything to you. 

Except it does.  When he sits there with his knee against the console and his skin showing and a tuft of hair over his forehead, he looks like a person.  He is a person, one who has been subject to some of the worst horrors of Miroh’s operation. 

There is no denying Chan is a complicated figure, unwillingly complicit in atrocities.  He acts like a normal person with a fully cognizant mind, but you just witnessed for yourself how easily he can fake that.  You do not know how much of the real Bang Chan is actually inside him. 

“Chan,” you say after a long time.  The sun has almost fully set, the sky in its navy gloaming. 

“Yeah?” he says. 

There are no words that suffice.  You could give an entire speech and it would be virtually meaningless.

“I’m sorry,” you say, leaving the breadth of the apology up to his interpretation.  You keep your eyes on the endless miles of highway that stretch ahead.  There is a long journey in front of you.  There is a longer road behind you. 

The car is illuminated with golden light from passing cars and overhead lamps.  It flashes over his face in the deepening darkness. 

“Don’t be,” Chan says.  He crosses his arms in a protective position, looking out his window though there is nothing to see but the highway and passing cars.  “None of this was your fault,” he says.  

You laugh, a similar humourless sound to his earlier laughter. 

“That’s not entirely true,” you say, thinking of all the missions you deliberately ran for Miroh.  You thought you could make it mean something.  You were just like your father, believing the ends would justify the means.   You never tortured Chan yourself, but you were part of the operation that kept him in chains.  There was nothing you could do to save him, but you certainly never tried. 

He looks at you.  You hear him move, the crinkle of his clothes, the water bottle he twists in his grip. 

“I don’t blame you, you know,” he says.  “Seriously.  Today was crazy.  Everything’s crazy.  You’re not responsible for it.” 

“I’m not not responsible,” you say.  “My team is dead.  My friend is gone.  My dad – well, you can’t say I didn’t do that.”

“He had that one coming,” Chan says, his laugh a little more real.  “No offense, but your dad kinda sucked.”

You find yourself laughing more genuinely too. 

“Yeah,” you say.  “I think we can agree on that.” 

You fall into silence but it is more comfortable than before.  There has been an undeniable tension since the moment he climbed in this car, looking at you with questioning confusion as you pointed a gun at him.  You were panicking but he must have been equally bewildered.  To him, you were a mission.  He lives by his orders. 

“I should apologize to you,” he says.

You look at him with obvious surprise.  He meets your gaze, his expression sincere if not a little chagrined.  His dimples show with a faint smile but it is not very happy. 

“I’ve been an ass,” he says.  “Today was – well.”  He runs a hand through his hair. 

“Trust me,” you say.  You try to lighten the mood with your tone.  “I’m a Miroh.  You will never have to apologize to me for as long as you live.”

He doesn’t laugh or even force that pretend sound.  He stares ahead, his gaze sorrowful and faraway. 

“Sorry, that was—” you begin. 

He forces a smile and shakes his head.

“Nah,” he says.  “Truce?”

Smiling feels awkward and your injuries probably make you a terrifying sight.  But he accepts it, nodding at you.  The car does not feel like such a claustrophobic space after that.  The air is clear as it can be, considering who you are.

Neither of you has an identity right now.  You were tethered to the same monstrosity and now it is gone.  Everything is different.

You are too tired for another late-night heart-to-heart.  It is time for rest. 

-

There is enough cash for a cheap motel room.  You find a quiet inn off the highway, sequestered beyond trees and countryside fields.  You finally look at yourself properly in the bathroom mirror.  You decide Chan’s earlier remarks were a severe understatement.  You look like a battleground more than a soldier. 

You injures will repair themselves with time, but it is a grisly sight.  You shower for now.  The soap and water helps. 

You don the same shirt and underwear.  New clothes will be a necessity.  You mentally plan tomorrow, everything you will need to accrue before you formulate an attack.  You have already mentally plotted the closest facilities, but you will need to verify their function and security protocol before striking. 

You are mentally strategize as you exit the bathroom.  You are distracted, thinking nothing of the fact you are wearing underwear and a shirt. 

Chan already showered because you insisted, knowing you would take longer with your injuries.  He is sitting on one of the single beds, sorting through his weapons. There is the gun you stole from Miroh plus his own array of armaments, things so well hidden you did not realize he even had them.  They are laid out on the bed.  He sits at the foot in his combat pants and nothing else, his dark hair damp and face bare. 

You stroll past him, feeling his eyes as they lift from a gun to your bare legs.  Now that you have scrubbed the worst of the brutality from your body, you feel like something of a person again.  His flicker of attention ignites an undeniable spark in your belly.  At first, it startles you, because the First Guard is the absolute last person you should ever think of like that.

But then you look at him.  He has turned his eyes back to his work, saying nothing as he reloads the gun with second-nature efficiency.  He is holding a weapon but, despite his conditioning, he is just a man. 

You are a grounded person.  You keep your head down and go about your tasks with confident certainty.  He is here, you are here, it has been a long day, and it is not unusual for soldiers to seek comfort before the dawn of a new fight.  Comfort is as important in healing and recuperation as anything else. 

You sit on your own bed and look at him. He is effortlessly attractive with his dark hair and dark eyes, the sloping muscle of his firm body.  You trace his chest and abdomen with your eyes.  He does not lift his gaze, his attention on the gun.

“Do you want to fuck?” you ask.

Bang Chan is the best soldier in the force.  You are pretty sure he has never fumbled a weapon quite so spectacularly.  It clatters to the floor and he kicks it under your bed.

“What!” he says.  He doesn’t look at you as he retrieves the gun, laughing a comically nervous giggle.  “Um… what?” he asks again.  Before you can answer, he shakes his head. “That’s uh, wait.  Um.  No.  Bad idea, right?  I mean—”

“It’s just a suggestion,” you say, not really offended. “It’s been a long day.  It doesn’t mean anything.  We’re both adults here.”

As you say it, you consider his circumstances.  Chan has spent his entire life in the house of Miroh.  He is not innocent but he might be inexperienced.  This man has killed dozens of people and worked dozens of dangerous operations.  His body is built for violence, not pleasure, and certainly not his own. 

You find yourself blurting, “Have you ever…?”

“Yes,” he says firmly, brow furrowing with annoyance. 

“All right, all right, just asking,” you say.  You decide not to push the topic because it clearly makes him uncomfortable.  You just cleared the air and you don’t want to muddy it again. 

You change the topic swiftly.  You make some empty remark about the weather as you turn on the small television.  It’s an old contraption, buzzing with static as it flickers to life.    

Chan resumes his work.  He puts his head down to concentrate. 

Your gaze inevitably strays to him. 

His hair dries curly.  It feels like an unusual thing to know about the First Guard.  He looks so much younger with a clean face. 

You jump when that face lifts.  He looks at you. 

“It wasn’t… you know…” There is a hunch to his shoulders, his eyes dropping to his work.  “I just did it on missions, ya know?” 

“Did it,” you say.  “On missions.”  It doesn’t register right away, partly because you are tired and partly because you did not expect him to continue this conversation.  “You mean sex?” you ask.  “You had sex on missions?” 

“I had sex for missions,” he corrects, eyes on the weapon he is disassembling.  He is acting like the conversation is meaningless, his attention divided, but you know his task does not require that degree of concentration.  He could take that thing apart in perfect darkness. 

“For missions,” you repeat.  “What, like a honeypot type scheme?  You?” 

It seems ridiculous at first.  You picture the First Guard smashing through windows and tackling you in stairwells.  There is nothing seductive about that raw violence.   But then you look at the man in front of you, young and handsome, the one who so easily charmed that cashier while pretending he was someone else.  You picture him in a suit and tie, maybe a t-shirt and jeans.  He would be devastating with the right preparation. 

Chan is the best.  Maybe it shouldn’t surprise you he would excel regardless of the scheme. 

“Something like that,” he says.  He finally loads the magazine.  “It wasn’t so bad, though.  Seriously.”  He twirls the gun with an effortless flourish.  The grip finds his palm like the pistol is a part of him.  “Trust me.  My body was used for worse things.  You get that too, yeah?” 

You suppose you relate well enough.  You were raised in the same program, put through the same grueling regimen.  You have done things and you are not proud of them all.   Your circumstances are not the same, though.   You are each uniquely situated in your positions, even if you started in the same place. 

We’re all that’s left.

Changbin’s voice in your head causes your mind to drift. 

“What about you?” Chan asks, drawing you back to the conversation. 

“Me?” you ask. 

“Yeah,” he says.  “You.”   

The First Guard is asking you about your sex life.  You woke this morning in a safe house and put on combat gear, ready for another mundane day of field work.  Somewhere in the middle of that was a cascade of violence.  Now Bang Chan is asking about your sexual proclivities.  If you weren’t so exhausted, you would laugh. 

“I mean, nothing special,” you say, sufficing for the boring truth.  “Mostly just this.  Sex doesn’t really mean anything to me.  It’s like exercise.  Long nights on a job.  You know.  Fellow soldiers on a mission.  Sometimes a civilian hook-up.” 

You can’t parse the expression on his face.  His gaze is somewhat judgemental, or maybe it is just scrutinizing, intensely focussed.  It bristles your nerves.  Your tone is more derisive when you say, “I’m not a romantic.”  You hold his intense stare in your own.  “Sex is just a bodily function to me.  Sometimes the body needs the release or the pleasure or whatever, so I satisfy it and move on.  That’s who I am.  I work.  I get the job done.  That’s what I have always done.”

What you always did.  You are not sure how to describe yourself anymore.  You nonetheless punctuate that definitive statement.  You assume that is the end of the conversation. 

Then Chan asks, “So there’s… no one… for you?” 

If he was any other soldier, you would think he was angling for flirtation, but he just turned down your very blatant offer. You do not know why he has any motivation to ask such personal and irrelevant questions. 

It is not worth the argument.  You conclude with a simple, “No.” 

He nods, rocking his whole body with the force of his too-casual gesture.  The tips of his ears are red, though your gaze does not stay there.  You are quickly distracted by his bicep.  He lifts an arm to rub the back of his neck, muscles softly rippling.  His brazen questioning coupled with his awkward shyness is incongruous. 

You think it is unlikely you will ever understand this man.  He has been taken apart and put back together too many times.  Fragments of him seem to fire all at once and in great contradiction. 

“What about Changbin?” he asks.  “He must be pretty special to you.  Ya know, for you to have done all this for him.” 

You are simultaneously struck by repulsion and sentiment.   Changbin is very special and you regret not realizing it sooner.  He has always been at your side, taking hits to protect you well before he became your bodyguard.  He is the person who kept you smiling.  You understood each other on a different level.  His friendship was a rare gift and you took it for granted.  Now you would do anything to have it back. 

But also…

It’s Changbin.  Ew.  You are an only child but you feel a brotherly affection for him.  Picturing him in any other context is nauseating.  It just feels wrong. 

You have such a visceral reaction of disgust that Chan laughs.  He puts up his hands as if in surrender. 

“Sorry, sorry, my bad,” he says.  “Just friends, then?” 

“Yes,” you say.  “Though there’s nothing just about it.” 

You have replayed that rooftop exchange a hundred times, torturing yourself with every possible outcome.   If only you did this, if only he did that.  You rearrange every second, trying to find a version with a different ending.    

You wonder how he will react when he finds out what you did.  Aha, murder princess living up to her name! he might say.  The old man should have seen it coming.  I knew you could it, but of course I did. I’m so much smarter and better looking than everyone else here. 

You smile at the idea but it fades quickly. 

Changbin was with you last night.  He was sitting within arm’s reach, his scar under your fingertips.  Now he could be anywhere and it’s all your fault.  Not just because of the rooftop mistakes, but because of every mistake you made before that.

You exhale.  Your shoulders shake.  Chan watches you close a fist around a pillow.   

“You all right?” he asks. 

“I’m ending it,” you say. 

“Sorry, what?”

“I always thought Miroh was an inevitability.”  You are speaking out loud but mostly to yourself.  Your gaze is fixed on some distant point, your mind and heart miles away.  “But he wasn’t,” you say.  “No more soldiers.  No more experiments.  No more bribes and theft and terror.  My father is dead and I am going to do what I should have done a long time ago.  I am going to make sure his work dies with him.”

You look at Chan.  A day ago, you both existed for Miroh.  Now you are two people planning to dismantle an empire from a motel room and a stolen car.     

“Do you have a problem with that?” you ask. 

A part of you is braced for the worst, that he will reject it, that he will revert to some kind of conditioned programming and drag you back to a facility for condemnation. 

Even while you think it, you know it won’t happen.  The eyes staring back at you are as clear as your own. 

“I’m just the bodyguard,” Chan says.  “I go wherever you go.  Always.”

You feel invigorated to start now, but you are tired beneath the burst of adrenaline.   You need to let your body heal.   

The room is dark and you doze in the light of the television. After a couple hours, you roll over and find Chan is still awake.  He is laying on his bed, arms crossed and eyes open.  He is watching the shopping channel, ad after ad after ad, with far more intensity than it merits.   His mind must be somewhere else.  You can only imagine what he is thinking about. 

You wonder how much he knows about himself.  He responded to your half-coherent treasonous pleading.  Does he remember hating Miroh?  Or is he truly only helping you because of mission parameters? 

It is easy to forget when he is a bare-faced, curly-haired young man slouching in a motel bed, but Bang Chan is lethally competent.  He knew all of Miroh’s innermost schemes.  It will come in handy now, but it makes him an irrevocably dark character, whether it was willing or not. 

You wonder how much Changbin would trust him. 

Wait.

You were so distracted with your plans, you did not question a moment in your conversation. 

Chan mentioned Changbin. 

You never told Chan the identity of your friend.  When you were pleading with him, you just called him a friend. 

Maybe Chan heard you talking to your father.  Maybe he knows about your relationships because that was his job.  Maybe he just guessed because Changbin volunteered himself in the ring. 

Maybe Bang Chan remembers more than he is letting on. 

-

You fall asleep to the soft drone of the television.  Your mind is walking in circles and you dream of similar rings.  Nightmares of chrome cages and steel traps, a suffocating helplessness squeezing your ribcage. 

In your dreams, the room fills with smoke, a charcoal smog that chokes you as quickly as the compression on your chest.  You look down but you can’t see your body, only feel it.  Your invisible body struggles against invisible bindings.  You gasp for breath.

Your father appears.  It is him holding you down, a heavy hand in the middle of your chest.  You cry out.  You want to move but your body is trapped.

You close your eyes.  When you open them, Changbin is there.  He is still a teenager.  His head is bleeding – why is his head bleeding? – but he wipes the blood as if it’s nothing more than sweat, all his focus on you. 

Of course it is.  He’s your friend.  He’s here to save you.  How did you not see it before?  It’s like you have been moving through the world in a fog, the same grey smoke that envelopes you now.  His face is the only clear image, gawky with youth but alive and real.

The weight is lifted off your chest.  Black spots swarm your vision as you suck in a lungful of air. 

When you look again, Changbin is grown.  He looks like he did a day ago, dark bangs in his eyes, stocky build ready for a fight. 

“I’m not leaving here without you.”

Not leaving here.

Not leaving here.

Not leaving here. 

His voices dances around you.  You are trapped in your body, a screaming, shrieking force, watching through dead eyes as the world spins.  People pass but they don’t hear you.  You try to reach for someone but your body doesn’t respond to your thoughts. 

A labyrinthine stretch of road unfurls then disappears.  You are standing in the infirmary at the main facility.  You stare at yourself, the younger version of you.  You are already dead behind the eyes, resigned to your situation.  There are masked doctors around you.  A tray full of needles.  You watch as the long point penetrates your skin.  You’re just a child, arm so small in comparison. 

Your child face contorts with pain, an expression your adult face cannot mimic because you cannot control your face. 

You remember the pain, even if you cannot cry.  It was like nothing you had ever felt.  The pain meant it was working. The medicant was only administered to you when it had been thoroughly tested.  The first injection killed every subject except one.  The second program was a success. 

The children were writhing in pain for weeks, screaming and crying, begging for parents that never came.  Yours did, looming over your bedside, touching your feverish forehead and speaking through the fog of pain. 

An investment, Miroh called it.  You’ll thank me one day. 

Changbin is there.  He is a child too.  They put a needle in his skinny arm.  He winces but he doesn’t cry.   He isn’t scared of the needles or the pain, but he isn’t eager either.  He is just there, his head down. 

You blink and he is grown.  The needle is still in his arm, only it is not an injection but an extraction.  You watch the fullness of his face wither.  They are taking too much.  He becomes a child again, screaming in pain.  

The same pain moves inside you. 

No, worse. 

Worse. 

You never could have imagined a worse pain.  It courses through your whole body, peeling apart your insides while you lay there, helpless, watching.   

Your father stands over you.  You’ll thank me one day.  

He disappears.  For a flickering moment, you see Bang Chan.  Curly-haired, dimpled cheeks.  He stutters and shakes like a bad film projection.  His face contorts, changes.  Wide dark eyes stare at you, his face covered in rain – water – tears?  Pouring down his cheeks, mouth open and a mute cry in the grey. 

You want to touch him but you cannot move.  His face flickers again.  You feel a tiny, infinitesimal twitch in your pinky. 

Then he disappears altogether.  Your father is there.  He grabs you by the shoulders and slams you down, straight through the earth, holding you there in the darkness where no one can find you and you cannot move. 

“Hey—” comes a voice, somehow reaching you in the depths of that pit.  “Hey, hey, hey, wake up.” 

In your dream, your father shoves you. 

In reality, you are thrashing in a motel bed. 

It takes a minute to realize you are awake, that everything was just a terrible dream.  Your adrenaline is a white hot heat in your chest, your voice a strangled shriek as you clamour around the twisting sheets. 

“Hey, it’s all right,” Chan says.  “You’re just dreaming, whoa, easy, c’mon…  It’s all good.  Easy now.  Breathe for me, okay?” 

It feels like your first breath in years.  It goes down shaky, your vision blurry.  You realize Chan is holding your wrist, lightly but carefully.  You blink up at him.  He turned on the bedside light at some point.  Half his face is lit in gold as he looks at you with concern.  It is such a strange expression to see on him.  These were the same eyes glaring at you over that uniform mask.  Now that brow is pinched with worry, his own breath a staggered thing. 

“You all right?” he asks. 

You are sitting upright.  You look at your wrist in his hand. 

“Did I try to punch you again?” you ask. 

“You missed,” he says, smiling.  Then he shakes his head and says more seriously, “It was my fault.  You were yelling in your sleep so I woke you up.  I guess it was too fast or something.  Just, you know, I don’t think the walls are very thick here.”

“Right,” you say.  Your heart is still stampeding.  “Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” he says.  “You… you good…?” 

“Yeah,” you say.  You are too weary for patience, so sarcasm spills out of you.  “Peachy.” 

He opens his mouth but you don’t wait to hear it.  You slide out of bed and land on shaky legs.  Your whole body is covered in a sheen of sweat.  You want to shower, wash away the nightmare and the terror. 

You are a light sleeper.  You never dream like that. It is a testament to your exhaustion that you fell into such a deep sleep. 

You tell yourself it was a dream, but your reassurances don’t work.  Because it wasn’t really a dream, was it? It was flashes of real moments, real faces, real pain. 

You stand under steady stream of hot water.  You watch as the heat and the torrent opens a few scrapes, the water at your feet turning red.  You think of Changbin with a needle in his arm, all that red pouring out of him.  Standing there, helpless to do anything, like you are right now. 

You have no idea where he is.  You look at the scar on your palm and think of him in the moonlight, him in the ring, him at your side.  A smile, a joke, a reassurance.  A hand in yours, a promise. 

He knew you better than you know yourself.  He predicted this exact crisis of identity. 

When it’s just you and you’re trying to decide who you want to be, not who your father wants you to be…  When you’re trying to remember everything and you can’t decide what was real and what was just training and what was Miroh…

He drew that line across his palm.  You picture a chasm of a wound, gaping and red, rushing red at your feet. 

Just remember me, he said.  I didn’t bleed because I believe in Miroh.  I’m your soldier, not his.

True to his word, a man of principle to the end, he is bleeding for you right now. 

In all your years of training, fighting, and soldiership, of missions and schemes, tricks and plots, you have always kept composure.  Now it all weighs on you at once, every single second of your life, and it’s too much.  

When was the last time you cried?  You can’t even remember.  It pours out of you now, big ugly gasping sobs that spill into the shower.  You sit down where the water is pooling in pink.  You wrap your arms around your legs and draw them up to your chest like a child. 

You do not know how long you sit there, crying until it feels like there is no more water left in your body.  It must be a long time because the water runs from hot to lukewarm.  It feels strange to heave dry sobs with the shower still pouring down on you.  

The water abruptly stops.  You lift your head.

Chan stands there.  He doesn’t look at you directly, his expression solemn, but he turns off the water and gets you a towel.  

It feels surreal.  Bang Chan is moving around a small motel bathroom, helping you like he has helped you all day.  You stare at him with scrunched, sore eyes, your throat too strained to speak.  You drop your legs and let him wrap the towel around you.  Your heart kicks with momentary fright when he scoops you up, an effortless sweep. 

No one has ever done something like this for you.  You wouldn’t have let them, even if they tried. 

You need it.  You never realized how much you needed it.  You are certain you will feel embarrassed in the morning, but right now you put your arms around his neck and cling for dear life. 

He says nothing.  He hooks an arm around your back and the other under your legs.  He carries you back into the room and lays you in your bed, adjusting the towel for your modesty before pulling the blankets over you. 

You continue to sputter and hiccup, looking at him as he moves.  You wonder if he looks like this on a mission, determined and swift. 

No.  The First Guard wouldn’t fix the pillows under your head.  He wouldn’t tuck the blankets around you. 

Bang Chan stands over you, wearing nothing but his combat pants, no weapons or masks or piercing stares.  He has curly dark hair and a soft face.  When you touch his bare shoulder, he looks at you with a heart-shattering amount of tenderness.  You didn’t know anyone could look at somebody that way, never mind him, never mind at you. 

There’s a person inside him.  There’s a person inside you.  You don’t know who either of those people are, but you want to know.  You need to know. 

You curl your hand into a fist and feel the scar on your palm.  A day ago, none of this would have mattered, but you know why it matters now. 

“We have to find him,” you say.  Your rasping voice is barely above a whisper. 

Chan slowly cups his hand over yours, his palm to your knuckles, holding your touch against his shoulder.  He squeezes your fingers.  He nods.

“We will,” he says. 

“You’ll help me?” you say. 

“Yeah.” His own voice is a rasp, skirting the edge of emotion too.  He swallows it down and smiles at you.  “Like I said.  I go wherever you go.  Always.” 

He sits with you in the soft golden light of that small bedside lamp.  You do not think you can sleep again, but then exhaustion settles over you. 

You are on the cusp of sleep when he touches your forehead.  Your eyes meet briefly.  It wakes you with a heart flutter, similar to a dream that drops you into reality.  It is the heart-racing thump of a sudden fall.  The kind that feels so real, more like a memory than a dream. 

[thebiggerbear]

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe." - Soldier Boy Prompt Response

Summary: You're tired of running and you go to Soldier Boy for protection. He agrees to do it but not without a price.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. The original character I wanted to respond to this prompt with before deciding to make it multi-character. This scenario immediately popped into my head reading the line and I just had to write it. Hope it's okay.

Thank you to my beta @rieleatiel for her services. You rock, girl!

Sequel

Warnings: violence/murder; implied assassination attempts; sexual propositioning; Soldier Boy being himself; starts out as a blackmail type dynamic that appears as if a little dubcon at first; language?

Word Count: 2528

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

SB Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

This was recc'ed by @winchestergirl2 here.

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Beau version ✨ Dean version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Tom version ✨ Jason version ✨ Anael version ✨ SDV Alex version

You never thought in a million years that you would be seeking out one of the most dangerous Supes in the world for protection. Then again, you never would have thought that a multi-billion dollar corporation would be after you, intent on seeing you torn apart and scattered to the four winds. You didn’t exactly blow the whistle on them, but you didn’t exactly tow the company line either—something Stan Edgar was less than thrilled with and now the evil son of a bitch wanted you dead.

It was no secret that Edgar and Soldier Boy had a falling out of sorts after the truth about his being handed to the Russians had come to light. His old team may have made it happen, but it was Edgar pulling the strings all along. Surprisingly, the Supe who had been so focused on revenge hadn’t hunted Edgar down after this revelation, which made you wary about going this route. However, after narrowly escaping the latest death squad sent after you, you decided you had no choice but to take the gamble. There was nowhere you could run that Vought wouldn’t find you and you just hoped this would be more of an ‘enemy of my enemy’ situation rather than a ‘handing you right over to your enemy’ situation.

Once you had managed to track him down in Hong Kong while you were busy running yourself, he had shockingly agreed to a meet, and even more shockingly agreed to help you. Not without certain stipulations, of course.

“Let me in that sweet pussy of yours and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

You should have known, especially from the way he had been eyeing you up ever since he caught sight of you. Screwing your face up in disgust, you flat out refused. “Not happening.”

He shrugged and began to walk away. “Then you must not need my protection that badly.”

You scoffed in disbelief. “You’re seriously turning me down because I won’t fuck you? Whatever happened to the ‘Soldier Boy is America’s son’ bullshit? The OG superhero who fought Nazis and protected people?”

Soldier Boy stopped and slowly turned back towards you. “I’d be putting myself on the line to protect you. For that, I deserve one hell of a payment.” 

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. “So now you’re blackmailing me into sleeping with you? Unbelievable.” You had heard he was more like America’s Asshole than its Son, but you still couldn’t believe your ears. You had even offered to help him take Vought down with what you knew, so long as he kept you safe. You knew he’d want that kind of information. Why else was he hopping from continent to continent in the last few months, trying to shake Vought just like you were? Instead, his dick was taking top priority. Typical. 

“It’s the least you can do, doll.” He faced you fully again, shield hanging off of his arm as if it weighed nothing. “Like you said, I fought for this country, fought the Nazis, and now you’re asking me to play bodyguard while taking on Vought for you. I deserve something worth all that trouble.”

You ran through all other options in your mind. You still had a contact that could possibly put you in touch with someone that wouldn’t mind tapping into Vought’s offshore accounts that weren’t supposed to exist. You were already on Vought’s kill list; what would a few hundred thousand dollars of theirs matter? “I could pay you,” you offered.

“I’m not interested in money.” His eyes roved over you as he approached. “Besides,” he murmured as he came to a stop in front of you. You tensed as he reached up to tuck a strand of your hair that had gotten loose from under your ball cap behind your ear. ”I haven’t had a looker as pretty as you in a long time. Been locked away.” He gently gripped your chin in between his thumb and index finger, his eyes intent on your mouth before lifting to meet yours. A hint of a smirk started to appear on his handsome face when he most likely heard your heart beat starting to increase.

He released you and even took a step back from you, allowing you physical and metaphorical space. “Your call.”

You bit your lip as thoughts chaotically swirled inside your head. On one hand, you refused to be manipulated or pushed into sex with this asshole. No matter how physically attractive he might be, you weren’t willing to get on your back just so he would help you. But on the other hand, the cold hard truth was that you were tired — tired of running, tired of little-to-no sleep, tired of the paranoia that came with such a flight. Hell, at present, you hadn’t slept in almost two days and you were running on fumes; there wasn’t enough caffeine or energy pills in the world to get you through another day with no rest. Your reaction time was already dragging if your last narrow escape was anything to go by. If you continued this way, you’d be dead before the sun started to warm the sky; you were certain of it.

Soldier Boy stared you down. “What’s it gonna be?”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you glanced behind you at a small noise far off down the street. Thankfully, it was an old woman tossing something out onto the pavement, but you couldn’t deny it put you further on edge. You turned back to the Supe whose eyes stayed trained on you. You took a deep breath to steady your nerves and readied your response. His lips began to quirk upwards into a smile; he knew what your answer was going to be before you even said the words.

Vought Tower had been completely demolished. Luckily, it had been mostly evacuated before the destruction occurred. A fight between Soldier Boy and the now-dead Homelander had caused most of the damage, but the C4 that had been carefully lined throughout the infrastructure is what ended up bringing it down. 

Before it went boom, Soldier Boy had approached Stan Edgar, who refused to cower in a corner. The Supe respected that, but it didn’t change what he’d come here to do. He gripped Edgar by the throat and lifted him in the air, choking the older man and ignoring the fingers that desperately clawed at his hand.

“I thought we had an agreement,” Edgar rasped out.

Soldier Boy shrugged. “She made me a better one.” He then snapped the man’s neck and tossed his body aside like a rag doll. 

“Oi! We ought to get out of here,” Butcher warned after seeing Stan Edgar lifeless on the floor. “Frenchie’s about to blow this place to fucking hell.”

He glared over at the Brit and picked up his shield. He still didn’t trust him, not after what he and his merry band of assholes had tried to do the last time they’d teamed up, but he’d made a deal with you and he was intent on keeping his end of it. The only conditions Butcher and Captain Lesbo had given this time around was: no civilian casualties and Ryan was off limits. He did his best with the first and he could give less than a fuck on the other. As far as he was concerned, the kid was Butcher’s problem as long as the kid didn’t come looking for some payback once he got older, which Butcher assured he wouldn’t. That, and there better not be Novichok gas waiting at the end of this mission for him. They’d reluctantly agreed, knowing they had no other way to kill Homelander and take down Vought all in one swoop.

“After you.” Soldier Boy gestured for Butcher to leave first. The man scowled but obliged, keeping a wary eye out as he moved. Smirking, Soldier boy followed. The Supe might have enjoyed the reaction—or even tried to settle the score from Butcher’s previous betrayal—if he didn’t have you to get back to. He needed to let you know that you no longer had Stan Edgar or Vought to worry about. He’d kept up his end of the bargain you’d both made — now, finally, you were free.

You woke up to the sound of someone moving through the darkness in your room. You grabbed the gun from beneath your pillow and bolted upright as much as you could, trying to get your eyes to adjust so you could get a good shot.

“Relax, it’s just me,” Soldier Boy assured you. 

Recognizing his voice, you slowly lowered the gun and focused on his location. When your eyes finally adjusted, you realized he was near the foot of the bed, completely nude, his hair damp from a fresh shower. “Ben,” you breathed out in relief. “You scared me.”

Through the beams of moonlight shining into the room from the window, you saw him give you a smile and lay his shield down on the floor next to him. “Didn’t mean to.”

You slipped the safety back on the gun and stashed it into the drawer of your nightstand. You hated having it under your pillow at night; it was super uncomfortable and you only needed to do that when Soldier Boy — Ben, as he’d asked you to call him instead — wasn’t around. “Everything go okay?” 

“Better than okay.” You glanced back to see a smirk adorning that handsome face of his, with an all-too familiar gleam in those green eyes. You watched as he slipped on some sweats and then made his way to the opposite side of the bed. You moved onto your side to face him, smiling as he climbed in next to you and sat up against the headboard, turning to grin down at you. Within seconds, he had his arms wrapped around you, pulling you up against him, and he was kissing you a proper hello. He only pulled back when you needed air and tenderly rubbed his nose along yours, nuzzling you. “How about you, doll? Everything go okay while I was gone?”

You nodded and snuggled into his bare chest, letting out a relieved sigh when you felt his warm hands stroking your back. “Everything’s fine,” you assured him, closing your eyes. You’d never admit it aloud, but you felt so much better when he was around. Not only did you feel protected but you just felt better in general. You’d have to be under the pain of torture to admit to him (or yourself) that you actually missed him when he had to leave.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and let his lips linger there, continuing to rub your back just the way you liked. “Edgar and Vought are gone,” he murmured. “The Caped Cunt, too. You’ve got nothing more to worry about.”

Your eyes snapped open and you lifted yourself up to meet his gaze, your brows furrowed. “What?” You asked in shock.

“You heard me.” He stroked your cheek with his thumb, his grin now a smug smile. “You’re safe, baby.”    

Your eyes widened when the realization hit you. “That’s where you went?”

Your only answer was the lengthening of that smile. 

“Jesus, Ben.” So many thoughts and emotions swirled within you all at once. You were free, truly free. You no longer had to worry about Vought death squads hunting you down, Homelander coming for you, or Stan Edgar sending after you any ragtag Supes he could scrounge up. You were free. Although, Ben hadn’t told you that he was about to go on his most dangerous mission yet. He might be America’s original superhero and he might be tough to kill, but that didn’t mean he was completely invincible. He’d admitted as much to you over the last few months. “What if… What if you didn’t—”

He kissed you, effectively cutting you off. “I did,” he hummed against your lips. “Told you I would.”

You nodded, gently tracing his facial features with your hands before gliding down to his shoulders, dipping down the warm expanse of his back and then slowly returning to his chest. As always, he remained patient whenever you did this ritual of checking him for any wounds or injuries, knowing you wouldn’t find any but needing to assure yourself just the same. Truthfully, this man had come to mean more to you than you’d ever imagined would be possible. Hell, there had been a time when it wouldn’t have been possible at all.

When you were done, you met his gaze head on. “Do I want to know?”

Ben remained silent, but his eyes said it all: no, you didn’t want to know. You and Ben may have planned for the downfall of Vought and the ends of Homelander and Stan Edgar, the very same bastards that had put a target on your back in the first place, but that didn’t mean you wanted to hear the gory details of their deaths. You were just grateful Ben had come back to you alive and unharmed. 

You gave him a thin-lipped smile in understanding. “Thank you,” you whispered. 

Ben studied you for a moment, then pulled you in and kissed you again, his fingers slipping through your hair until he grabbed the back of your neck and urged you to meet him more fully. Just as you were getting into it, he broke away and chuckled. “You’re real eager for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?” You shot him a look and the smirk was suddenly back on his face. Without warning, he picked you up to rearrange you in the bed how he wanted you. “Too bad that you need to get some rest. We’re blowing the fuck out of here tomorrow and you’re gonna need to keep up.”

As if he would leave you behind if you couldn’t. “I thought you said Butcher would leave us alone after this.”

“I don’t trust that dicksucking Brit and I trust his bitch of a boss even less.”

You rolled your eyes, smirking when you felt him settle in behind you, knowing how much he enjoyed spooning you like this. “‘Kay,” you agreed. He had successfully protected you this far; you’d follow his lead on this one, too. You shut your eyes and snuggled into your pillow, content to feel his hands on your back caressing you once more. You were just about asleep when you heard him murmur in your ear, “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe.” You smiled when you heard the words he’d been saying to you every night now for many months and your heart lightened when you felt his hands trail from your back to cup protectively over your rounding stomach, rubbing gently. ‘Safe’ is exactly how you felt right in this moment, and the little girl moving to meet her father’s embrace—like she always did when she sensed he was near—only cemented the knowledge that this was the first night neither you nor she were in danger any longer. It gave you a sense of peace you hadn’t known in a long time.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this character.

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[hearts-4-vicky]

PT.2 WITH KKURA AND CHAE??? omg.. u just got back and it was so good

CALL OVER YOUR HOMEGIRLS ★

Sakura Miyawaki x Fem Reader + Kim Chaewon

Sequel to IN FOR IT

warnings: dom kkura, pillow princess reader, overstimulation, possessive kkura, fingering, MOMMY KINKKK, they’re competitive, petnames, tits i fuckin love boobs, uh chaes jst there, jealous chaewon, edging kinda.., oral, smut(duh), slight angst, chae n reader r bad at communication, thats it…

Wc: 1k

not proofread 😞

“shhh.. shut the fuck up.. anyway, got more for me sweet girl? cmon baby, let mommy hear your pretty voice..”

Sakura started making way to you, stripping herself of clothing with each step. you stiffened, fascinated by her gorgeous body “gonna be a good girl and let mommy play with you?” she grabbed your thighs and pulled you til your lower half was near the edge of the bed. kkura kneeled between your open legs before looking at chaewon, seemingly asking her for permission to begin.

kkura started leaving soft, feather like kisses on your inner thighs, before kissing around your clit. chaewon, wanting to be included, crawled over to you. latching onto your puffy nipples, her tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. you whimpered, but what left your mouth was not chaewon’s name, but sakura’s.

both girls met eyes, seemingly exchanging thousands of words in a couple of seconds since sakura had started licking at your leaky hole. you squealed, pushing chaewons head further into your tits. though, she felt someone push her away just seconds after

Chaewon left your nipple with an audible pop, leaving it swollen and coated with her spit. “wha- kkura unnie! what’s your problem!-“ she confronted the older, before getting cut off “you said she was mine for the night, huh? don’t break that promise chaewon..” sakura went back to teasing you pussy, never pushing her tongue any further. it pissed her off, yeah, but chae wanted you to cum first. she set your head on her lap, watching you squirm around from delicate touches

“mommy… please! jus wan your pretty mouth on my needy cunt!” you whined out to the older woman,

sakura parts from your cunt, sitting up to look you in the eye “hmm? so bossy baby.. mommy doesnt think you deserve it yet.. gonna let her play with your pretty boobs and finger your cute lil pussy?” she moved one hands toward your neglected nipple, rolling it between her fingers. the action earned breathy whines from you, which made chaewon more frustrated.

sakura had her left hand circling your cunt, before putting her pointer finger in, rubbing her thumb against your clit. she never moved the finger in your pussy, wanting to edge you a bit

“ mmhng!—fuck—mommy! s’too much f’me!” your squeals were too cute to her, barely able to contain yourself and you haven’t even started yet?

“oh? m sorry baby but your moans are too pretty for me to stop now..” kkura pinched your nipple harder and started rolling your clit between her fingers, making you cry out in chaewons arms. the latter couldnt help but scowl at the elder girl, how could she make you melt this quickly?

sakura ignored the jealous pupu, shoving her fingers knuckles deep into your needy cunt, using her palm to rub against your clit. she retracts her fingers slowly, loving how you whine out her name before slamming her fingers right back in “gha!- mm.. mommy- so.. soo good” your back arched off the bed, burying your head into chaewons stomach. kkura giggles at this, she loves when a pretty girl turns to putty in her hands. your pretty noises had her creaming her panties, she wanted nothing more but to have you ride her cunt while chaewon watched. maybe next time.. she thought, “ my princess so cute like this! gonna cum for mommy, baby? go ahead..”

with that, you squirted all over kkura’s fingers, leaving no area uncovered. she rubbed circles around your arm, comforting you as you squirmed around.

chaewon watched all of this, feeling a pit form in her stomach each time you moaned another woman’s name. she didn’t introduce you as her girlfriend and this is what she gets. her pretty girl or, sakura’s pretty girl makin a mess on the sheets. she had enough, she didnt wanna share anymore.

“get out.”

“huh- excuse me?”

“you heard me.”

sakura scoffed, muttering a quick ‘cockblocker..’ before gathering her clothes and leaving the bedroom

chaewon let you catch your breath before confronting you, since you were so distracted by your orgasm that you didn’t even notice sakura leave.

by the time you fully recovered, you quickly searched for sakura, the woman responsible for the mind numbing orgasm you just had,

“where’s-“

“the fuck was that?” chaewon was livid, seeing you melt in sakura’s embrace made her feel weird. maybe it’s because your hers, only hers. “what was what?” playin dumb only pissed her off more “you were whoring your pussy around…” she was up in your face now, visibly shaking before you. “thought you were mine? what the fuck happened to that!?” she gripped your shoulders, hard, hard enough to leave deep red marks. “none of this would’ve happened if you— had just introduced me as your damn girlfriend!” you trembled in her hold, terrified of the look in her eye.

“stupid fucking bitch..” chaewon muttered, before turning on her heel towards the door, swinging it open.

“wait! chae-“ the door slammed shut.

hi my lovesss🩷 im so sorry i havent posted that much this month :( ive been busier and had little to no motivation to write.. but i hope this makes up for my absence 🎀 thank you for the support you guys 🫶🏼🫶🏼 theres over 400 of you .. like damn. if you ever wanna ask anything, please go ahead !! (as long as its not weird like some of the anons on here..) i promise that ill post another fic this week and to be more active in the upcoming month ! might make this a lil series this is so silly >.<

stay safe and i love you guys soooo much

- Vicky 💋

[shuttershocky]

this overwatch 2 shit has GOT to be illegal right? I mean, they sold the game on the promise of PvE and now they cancel it. This better earn them a false advertising charge

And the wildest part is that you can't even play Overwatch 1 anymore.

Anyone who's followed this blog long enough has probably seen me post a rant about how terrible video games are at media preservation, and how we should preserve games (even ones we don't like) to be playable in some manner long after the developers take the servers offline because games are art and deserve to be able to be experienced by the future long after they've been discarded by their makers as a product.

You can't do that anymore with Overwatch 1, a game that wasn't even free to play.

People paid 40$ in 2016, 60$ if they went for the deluxe edition, to play Overwatch. New heroes, maps, etc were promised to come as free updates, instantly accessible for anyone to play without grinding or microtransactions (though there were mtx for cosmetics) and that the game would be supported for many years.

This was one of the many reasons why Overwatch back then absorbed a large part of TF2's playerbase: TF2 had been chugging along since 2007, at the 8-9 year point its updates were winding down and people have accepted it was finally hitting the end of tis life, and were looking for a new cartoon team shooter that would last for years. OW was not TF2's successor and was never intended to be, but that promise of many years of free support was a major part of why people gave it a chance just the same.

And then just 3 years later in 2019 they announced Overwatch 2, a game that looked really, really similar to Overwatch 1, except it was going to have the actual story missions via PvE mode that Overwatch 1 didn't have. They said there would be enough new things to justify the '2', and that people who bought Overwatch 1 need not worry about their investment in the first game.

And then it turned out what they meant by that was that they were killing Overwatch 1 by closing its servers, forcing everyone to move over to Overwatch 2, a Free to Play game where you had to grind to unlock the new heroes (people who bought OW1 instantly had the new hero unlocked but come on), was chock full of the usual Free to Play engagement mechanics, and changed the 6v6 format to 5v5, if you had a full squad of friends before, you had to tell one guy to get fucked.

I think the worst part was that when people were understandably angry that Overwatch 2's actual changes from the original were almost all monetization based, games journalists that pressed Blizzard on why players now had to grind a battlepass for heroes, which Overwatch 1 had always given for free, were met with a "well, heroes are the strongest engagement point for our players" type of deflection where they didn't even try to hide their reasons behind something respectable.

Now they're announcing that OW2's PvE mode, the whole (public) reason they made OW2 a sequel instead of an update to OW1, isn't even happening anymore, and Overwatch 1's original 6v6 remains dead and inaccessible.

I didn't like Overwatch 1. I was really hyped for it when it came out, but found myself really disliking the gameplay (especially on its map design which I thought was terrible) which only worsened with its creative and balancing direction until I lost interest in only a few weeks.

Still, killing OW1 to force all players to move to OW2's free to play model was inexcusable. All art must be preserved in some manner, even ones we don't think are good enough to be worth preserving. Overwatch in particular was so massive in 2016-2018 that to kill it is to make inaccessible the source material of a kajillion other pieces of art from those years.

[cobraonthecob]

does anyone ever feel bad about criticizing atla because then you see the creators trying to retcon whatever you criticized but you watch them fail at it so badly that all you can do is point and laugh

i don't feel bad because if you made an oriental smoothie and you made fun of your fans for seeing chemistry between two characters, you deserve all the lashings. if i were that creator, i'd just take the royalties from the og and sequel show and just go to creating another show

but anyways. any criticism of kataang is always going to have the next installment of whatever story they want to tell just randomly retconning whatever was criticized. aang and katara didn't communicate that well during atla? here's a scene where they do talk about SOMETHING in a comic. aang never returned the amount of emotional support katara gave during the entire show and comics run? here's a new comic run where he's finally giving her support!

they're going to see us talking about how aang never tried to act like he was being a dick about his love interest's culture (ah yes, love seeing him hate on the water tribes using fur and skins or even sea prunes, you really sold me on aang loving katara lmfao) and then retcon it in a comic that he actually got past that prejudice. it's too late. you had all of lok to even just prove that you know what the fuck y'all are writing, but now it's far too late and any retcon you do might as well be highlighted in sharpie and neon

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

you had me at 'hello'

the sequel to daddy all along

pairing: dbf! leon x f! reader

cw: alcoholism, p in v, masturbation, oral sex

word count: 10k

a/n: "when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible" <3 (quote from when harry met sally, title from jerry maguire)

thank you to @thevirgincherry for your feedback!

Leon remembers when you used to call him on the phone as a child. You’d interrupt his work, and Hunnigan would tell him to hang up, but he’d ignore her for a few minutes. You were too important. You’d pace around the living room, telling him about your day at school, what you did at recess with your friends and the art project you’re working on. He loved to hear about it. Most days, it was the only good news he’d get.

It pained him to hang up, but he promised you he’d call to say goodnight, and he did. Even when he drank, he stepped outside the bar and tried his best not to slur his words.

“Do you have a daughter?” A woman he’d go home with would ask.

“No,” he’d say, but it felt like it.

When FaceTime was invented, it became your favorite activity. Leon would pay extra for an international phone plan and for wifi in every hotel room, so he could talk to you. He kicked a woman out of bed once to speak to you. He never saw her again and hasn’t thought of her since.

“It’s an important thing for work,” he told the woman.

She knew he was lying when she heard a little girl’s voice on the other end while she was putting her clothes back on. He didn’t bat an eye at her expression - confusion, distaste, bitterness, who cares? Not Leon.

You’re his favorite girl, the only girl he’s ever cared about.

The morning after your 21st, Leon gently shrugged you off him. He washed his face in the mirror, hoping to wipe away the previous night’s mistakes, but he was still the same old Leon. A fuck-up, an idiot, a pervert who slept with a girl he’d known since she was a baby.

When you woke up, he was in the shower. You’d go on to ask him if he jerked off, and he’d say no, but he did. It wasn’t lust, it was procrastination - five more minutes before he’d have to face you. He tried to think about Ada with one hand on the wall and the other on his dick. Your name slipped out when he came, and it felt like another violation, in addition to lying and then cumming down the drain with your shampoo bottles - the ones containing the sweet scent of you - scrutinizing him.

A long time ago, Leon promised he’d never lie to you. It was the one promise he’d kept - until that morning when he told you ‘something important came up, and he had to leave ASAP’.

You could see it in his eyes, but you took out your anger on your father, who deserved it more after he came home that afternoon with an obvious hangover. You screamed at him until he told you to go upstairs. You were already on your way.

Leon only knew how to deal with his problems in three ways: call his therapist, drink, or fuck. That day it was either drink or fuck because there was no way he could tell his therapist that his mental crisis was caused by fucking his friend’s daughter, a girl who was decades younger than him. It wasn’t an illegal act, but he still felt like he deserved to have the cops called on him. I should get the death penalty, he thought. Unfortunately, capital punishment was not allowed in D.C., but Leon considered the fact that his actions may have been heinous enough for him to be granted an exception. 

He decided on alcohol. He went to the ABC store, bought a handle of whiskey, got home, and dumped it down the kitchen sink. Nope. He promised everyone he was done with that. His therapist, Hunnigan, Claire, Chris, himself, and most importantly, you. He promised you.

Sex it was, then. He never promised anyone he’d be celibate. Leon was well over 40, so he didn’t use Tinder - though he had heard of it. He looked through his contacts list like a little black book, and his thumb hovered over a few names. He debated and picked Claire. Another idiotic decision.

“Hello?” Her voice already sounded suspicious. He didn’t call Claire on the phone often. They usually stuck to emails and texts.  

“Hey, how are you?”

“I’m okay, Leon. Why are you calling?”

“I just wanted to talk. Do I need another reason?”

“Are you drunk?”

“No.”

There was a long pause until she said,“If I promise not to bring it up again, will you admit that you’re trying to get me to hook up with you?”

“Is it really that obvious?”

“Goodbye, Leon.” She hung up on him. He should’ve expected it. He texted her an apology later, which she accepted.

Soon after, before he could make another mistake, he received a text from a number he hadn't saved. “Are you in D.C.?” It read.

“Who is this?”

“A.W.” She wouldn’t even sign her full name - didn’t want a paper trail. Classic Ada.

“Yeah, I’m home right now.”

“I’ll be there in an hour or so. I have some things to finish up.”

“K” Leon texted and left the door unlocked.

He knew it was her by the click of her heels.

“In the bedroom,” he called.

“Perfect,” she said when she reached the threshold, “Nice of you to be ready for me.”

He shrugged and smiled because he was tired and had been in that position for hours, but he’d pretend like he’d done her a favor by getting down to a pair of sweatpants before she arrived.

She worked on getting out of her dress. “Not going to help?” she asked, annoyed.

“Thought you could do it yourself,” he said, teasing her.

“Thought you treated your guests nicely.”

“I’m about to.” And he did. At least, nice enough. They didn’t talk during sex because they never do. They’d worked out the logistics of their arrangement long ago. It was a pretty sweet deal, especially since there were never any condoms involved. Leon didn’t mind paying the 40 or so for Plan B in the morning. He couldn’t give less of a fuck what the cashier at the pharmacy thought of him. 

“Can I talk to you?” he asked after round two. He used to have more stamina. 

“About what?” She was slightly more interested and less suspicious than Claire was when he’d called her earlier that night.

“I need advice.”

“That’s new. I’m flattered.”

“You know that girl, my friend’s daughter?”

“The one you’re always gushing about? She’s practically your daughter.”

Yeah, you really were his little girl, considering even Ada had heard about you from Leon. 

“Don’t say that.” His defensiveness was a confession in and of itself.

“You slept with her,” she said, matter–of-factly.

“How’d you know that?”

“I can see the guilt in your eyes. She’s an adult, right?”

“Yeah, just turned 21.”

“Okay. Nothing illegal, then. Just… an interesting situation.”

“Yeah, I fucked things up pretty bad.”

She hummed in agreement. There was no pity, but no ridicule either. She cared enough not to laugh at his idiocy.

“What do you want me to say?” she asked.

“Whatever you’re thinking.”

“Either be with her or don’t. Don’t string her along.”

“You’re one to talk,” he mumbled. He wanted the remark to pass through the air as a bit of his dry wit and not his eternal bitterness.

“I’m not stringing you along. You know that this is all we’re ever going to be.”

“That’s what I told her.” 

“But she’s 21. You’re much older, and if you can’t wrap your pretty little head around this arrangement yet, then…” 

He was 21 when he met Ada. And she broke his heart without giving him any reason to think whatever they had was more than a kiss. Ironic. He wondered if she knew the way she was playing with his head at the time. He’d always liked to believe she had a good heart, it was just deep, deep, deep down under all the layers of mystique and her cold disposition.

He was supposed to be the good man, the hero, a beacon of morality, of all things just. But he was on Ada’s level now. Ada the heartbreaker.  

“Can you just tell me what to do?” He asked, pissed off at his own indecision. 

“Why? So you can blame me later when you don’t like the choice you make?”

She knew him well. He stayed silent. 

“I’m not going to be your scapegoat,” she said.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but thank you for your honesty.”

She laughed - almost, but it was genuine amusement because, despite it all, she did care. People never really stop caring do they? She left in the morning and didn’t need an excuse, not like Leon did with you.

You told yourself you wouldn’t call, but weeks went by, and you hadn’t heard anything. You were wondering if was alive at that point. And you missed him. So you called.

His phone vibrated on the bedside table; he picked it up, looked at the caller ID, and saw your name. A part of him still got that same warm, fuzzy feeling that he always felt when you called, and the other part was full of dread and guilt.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi,” you said.

There was a lull. Dead air, not peaceful silence. 

“How are you?”

“I’m okay. How are you?”

“Doin’ fine.” It was a lie. You missed him too much to be considered “fine.”

Your hands should not have been traveling downward, but they were. They had a mind of their own that lived between your thighs. You couldn’t help the fact that his groggy voice made you ache.

“What are you doing right now?” You suppressed the urge to ask him what he was wearing and where he was. You imagined him sprawled out in bed, naked and ready for you.

“Nothing. I was lying in bed, nodding off when you called.” He wasn’t nodding off, but he was in bed, mind filled with memories and stress per usual.

“Sorry to interrupt your relaxation, then.”

“It’s no big deal.”

He told himself that he’d keep one hand on the phone and the other fidgeting with whatever he could find so as not to reach any lower than his waistline. But there was something about your voice, the way you were talking - it was different than usual. He was probably just imagining things, but it sounded like you were touching yourself.

He was getting hard already, and it was distracting. He had to do something about it. It was either jerk off to the sound of your voice or think about something horrific and grotesque to make his dick go soft. He spent enough time thinking about dead bodies and parasites, so he indulged himself and decided to worry about the consequences later. It’s not like you’d know anyway. Leon could be stealthy.

“What are you up to?” he asked.

“Calling you.” Your little laugh was light and airy, and maybe he wasn’t just imagining things. It was the voice you used when you asked him, so coquettish, to kiss you.

You thought you heard him moving around, and then he dropped the phone. He was trying to hold the phone between his ear and his shoulder while taking his pants off.

“Sorry. Dropped you,” he said when he retrieved the phone.

“How’d you do that? It just slipped out of your hands?”

Fuck. She caught on quick. Too smart for her own good. 

“Guess so.” He didn’t have an excuse. All of the blood that was supposed to be in his brain was in his cock, which was now painfully hard.

“What have you been doing these past weeks?”

“Work mostly.” Thinking about you. I can’t get you off my mind, no matter how many other women I sleep with.

“Anything fun?” your question felt pointed even though it wasn’t.

“A little bit.”

“Like what?”

“Some things should stay a secret. I’ll tell you when you’re older.” He would never tell you about his escapades with Ada.

You thought you knew what he meant. You couldn’t decide whether to be jealous or not. You were too focused on remembering what he looked like during sex, and it was a glorious sight. Someone should paint him, sculpt him, anything to preserve his beauty, you thought. It was worthy of a new renaissance. 

“Have you been up to anything fun?” he asked, not sure whether he wanted to hear about any of your sexual escapades or not.

“No. Just lounging around the house mostly.”

“Hangin’ with your dad?”

“Can we not talk about dad right now?” Your dad really kills the mood.

“Are you guys not in a good place?”

“It’s not that, I just don’t wanna think about him right now. I’d rather think about you.”

The words came out more suggestive than you intended. You could hear his breath hitch, and it might have been arousal, or it might have been surprise, but he knows.

“Oh? You’re thinking about me?”

“What else would I be thinking about?”

“I don’t know.”

He coughed to hide a groan that wanted to leave his mouth while you were biting your lip to hold back any moans.

“Leon…” you said, and it was the same voice you used to call him daddy the night he found out what it felt like to be inside you. 

“Uh-huh?”

“How do you feel about me?”

I love you. “You know how I feel about you. I think you’re great. You’re a great girl.”

“A good girl?”

Fuck it. He’ll take the bait. “Yes, you’re a good girl.”

“Even now?” He could hear your pouty lips and dewy eyes. He could see the image of you coming undone beneath him. Angelic, soft, heavenly, ineffably so. 

“Why wouldn’t you be? Are you up to something… naughty?”

“Maybe. It depends. Are you?”

He didn’t answer because you both knew that you were in the same state - naked and needy.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“In bed.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Your shirt.”

The one he left there. It only aroused him more. It was a white t-shirt, and the fabric was thin enough that if Leon were there, he’d get a peek of your nipples hardening through the fabric. He could slip his hands under your shirt and play with your tits. He could, if only things were different.

“What else?”

“Nothing.”

Nothing. You are naughty.

“Nothing?”

“Are you wearing clothes?”

“Barely.”

“Why did you drop the phone before? Taking your dick out?” You were so flippant and crass that it should’ve sounded ridiculous, but Leon was too hard to care. 

“Might have been.”

“Did I catch you while you were already jerking off or…?” Or was it me?

“No, I wasn’t when I picked up.”

“But you are now.” It was not a question.

He took a deep breath. “I’ll admit it, as long as you admit you’re touching yourself too.”

“I am.”

“Is that why you called?”

“No, I wanted to check on you.” It was true. At least, in your conscious mind, but maybe your subconscious always knew that you wanted to do this.

“And what? You like my voice that much?”

“Yeah.”

Leon closed his eyes and allowed it to happen, giving himself this one little sin because he’d been good for so long, more than good - heroic.

“What are you thinking about, baby?”

“You, Daddy. I told you.”

Daddy? Jesus Christ. Leon was sure he was pushing his luck with God. He was getting more than he deserved in this bargain. Honestly, he never deserved anything you gave him. You were so perfect and he felt like he was ruining you. 

“Be specific, princess.”

“I wish you were touching me.”

“Yeah? How so?”

“I want your fingers inside me.”

“My fingers, huh?”

“No, more than that. I want your mouth, too. I want all of you.”

Your voice faltered mid-sentence like you were getting closer to your peak, but by the end of your statement, your confidence overrode anything else. You didn’t just want his fingers, his mouth, his dick; you wanted all of him. You wanted his fucking heart and soul.

“You have me.”

“I want you here, inside me.”

He needed to be inside you. Fuck his dignity, fuck his sensibility, fuck his morality. He needed to feel your warmth around him again.

“I want that too.”

“Did it feel good for you? Did you like the way it felt with me?”

You were begging for a yes, and it was easy for him to give it to you. The truth is easy.

“The best. You’re the best I’ve ever had.”

“You’re lying.”

“I wish I was lying, princess.”

“Leon,” you whined, and it didn’t matter that you weren’t physically there; the sound reverberated through his dick, and he was dangerously close.

“I know,” he said, “Me too.”

“Can I? Please?” You didn’t have to ask, but it was hot when you did.

Leon wanted to make you beg, but he needed you to come first, and if he heard you say please again, he’d risk coming before you - no, he would come before you. He was already teetering on the edge.

“Come for me,” he said.

And you did. You were muffling your moans with your hand over your mouth, but you were close enough to the phone that Leon could hear it. He was lucky he was alone because he didn’t hold back when he moaned out your name. He shouldn’t have done that at all, though. Just another tally to add to the endless list of sins.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, meaning it two-fold. Please do not mention this.

“Am I going to see you again?”

“Yes, you’ll see me again.”

I’m never going to leave you, and you know it.

The next time you two saw each other, Leon picked you up from the hospital. You were not the patient, thank God. It was your dad. Drunk driving accident. Leon was more pissed than anything else.

The nurse asked if they should call your mom, and you laughed. Dare you to try, you wanted to say. They understood.

“Is there someone you can call?” They could see the loneliness behind your stoic facade.

“I can try.”

You called Leon.

“Hey,” he answered, not knowing his nonchalance was inappropriate for the circumstances.

You didn’t cry when you drove to the hospital. You’ve been your father’s emergency contact since you turned 18. Your heart was beating out of your chest, but no tears fell. You didn’t break until you heard Leon’s voice.

“I need you,” you cried into the phone.

If it weren’t for your tone, he’d think you meant, “I need you in my bed,” maybe even, “I need you inside me.”

But you were crying. He could hear the tears before they’d fallen.

“Where are you?” He masked his panic with sternness.

“Hospital,” you managed to say through your sniffles.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Leon was already grabbing his keys and jacket, imagining the worst.

“It’s not me, it’s dad.”

Leon was only slightly relieved. He doesn’t want your father dead, but you’re his girl; you can’t die on him.

“I’ll be right there.”

Leon didn’t drive fast, he drove safely. 

“Name?” The woman working at the front desk asked.

“Leon Kennedy.”

“Relationship to the patient.”

“A friend. His daughter called me. I’m here to come get her.” He knew they’d want more of an answer than ‘friend’, and he was more than just a friend. He spoke with such conviction as if it were his right to be there as if they had to let him see you.

You didn’t talk on the way home - not to your house, but to Leon’s apartment. You insisted. You couldn’t be in that house, and Leon knew precisely why. 

It was over a decade ago. You were at least 6 or 7, but no more than 10. It was one of those things that Leon tried to forget.

You called him on the landline and gripped the phone with both hands, slippery with sweat.

“Leon, I need you.” He swore he could hear a whispered ‘help’ at the end of your sentence, or maybe it was just his instinct.

Thank God you called his cell. He talked to you while he drove.

“What’s going on, sweetheart?”

“Dad. I don’t know what happened.”

“Is he okay?”

“No. He’s in the kitchen. On the floor. He’s not moving.”

“Is he breathing?”

“I think so.”

“Did you call 911?”

“No, I called you.”

I can be your father figure, your guardian, or the one who tucks you in at night, but I am not a paramedic.

“You need to call 911. Tell them what you told me.”

And you did. Leon got there after the ambulance arrived.

“Sir,” they stopped him before he could enter the front door, “we’re dealing with an emergency. We need you to wait out here.”

“I can’t.” He brushed them off and called your name. You came flying out the front door.

“Who are you?” One of them asked.

“Leon,” he said because that was the only answer.

He slept on your bedroom floor that night.

No, he didn’t sleep. He watched you sleep, constantly checking to see if you were breathing.

“I can sleep on the couch,” Leon offered.

“No,” you said.

“No? I don’t have a guest room.”

“I wanna sleep in your bed with you.”

Do you want to sleep with me? Absolutely not.

He raised an eyebrow, not daring to say the words aloud lest he put them into your mind.

They were already there, and you both knew it.

“Not like that. I just don’t wanna be alone. And I don’t think you wanna sleep on the floor.”

“No funny business.” He held out his pinky finger for you to take.

“No funny business. Serious business only.” You took his pinky and cracked a smile that mimicked the one he was holding back. You shouldn’t be laughing at a time like this, but you have to if you want to avoid crying.

Leon let you wear his clothes to sleep because you didn’t bring a change of clothes. You didn’t stop at home. It wasn’t the same as last time.

He was about to turn off the lamp on his bedside table when you said, “Leon?”

He turned to see you lying on your side, facing him.

“Yeah?”

“One kiss?”

“I thought I said no funny business.”

“I’m not trying to be funny at all.”

“I know,” he breathed the words into your mouth as he accepted his fate.

You gripped his shirt for dear life and wrapped one leg around his hip. He expected your tongue to be in his mouth and your hands in his pants soon. But he was wrong. It didn’t go any further than that. Your lips left his, but you never entirely pulled away. You clung to him.

“I just want to feel loved,” you whispered, answering questions he didn’t have the words to ask.

“You are,” he said confidently.

You fell asleep on his chest. This time, he did sleep because he could feel your steady breathing. 

You found him in the kitchen, making breakfast in the morning.

“I have good news,” he said.

“Pancakes?”

“No. I mean - yes, if you want, but that’s not what I meant. Your dad’s awake.”

“Really?”

“Really. You wanna stop by your house on our way over to the hospital? For a change of clothes.”

“I can’t wear this?”

“I don’t think the hospital staff would appreciate you not wearing pants.”

“Why not? They make everyone wear those little hospital gowns anyway.”

“You’re not the patient. Plus, I think your dad would prefer you in pants, too.”

His expression told more than he was willing to say. He’ll think we had sex. We didn’t. But we did.

“I was kidding.”

“I know you were.”

“I’d like to see you in one of those hospital gowns.”

“I hope you never have to.”

“We could play doctor and patient.”

He turned to face you, mouth agape in surprise but holding back his laughter.

“If we did - which we won’t,” he held out a finger as he spoke, “you would be the patient.” Joking is a slippery slope.

Your dad went to rehab. Finally, it was a win in everyone’s book. Leon moved into your guest room during the months that your dad was away. It wouldn’t be fair to leave you alone when your life had been shaken up like that. Leon made it clear from the beginning that you would be sleeping in separate beds. He loved you, but not like that.

“You don’t wanna do it again?” You asked one night.

“Do what again?” Leon was tired from work. You were used to seeing the good version of him. He can’t hide behind the facade of the happy-go-lucky, charming guy 24/7.

“Have sex,” you said, making sure to enunciate, “with me.”

“No. We’re not doing it again.”

“Why? You said it was the best ever.”

“Why? Because this,” Leon gestured between the two of you, “cannot get more complicated than it is. I cannot take care of you and fuck you at the same time.”

You’d never seen him get so serious. Even on your 21st, when you were flirting with him, and he tried to brush you off, he was still being playful, still willing to let you try to win him over.

Your lips parted, but no words came out. You stood still until Leon grabbed the remote control and un-paused the TV. Then, you turned on your heels and walked upstairs. You put yourself to bed that night.

You hadn’t realized the possibility that you were anything but an angel in Leon’s eyes. You were a burden to your father, a bigger burden to your mother - enough that she packed her bags and left, but being a burden to Leon - you’d never imagined it. Maybe he was just strong enough to carry the weight of you. Maybe your problems were too heavy for him now.

You didn’t cry. The wells had dried up. You cried them out over your parents. There weren’t any left for Leon. You fell asleep to the sound of the fan overhead.

You and Leon didn’t speak about it. He wanted to say, “I’m sorry for talking to you that way,” but he didn’t want to open the door for you to proposition him again. Maybe you’d just forget, he hoped.

Leon continued to be distant, and you had no one else you could talk to the way you did with him. You had no one but a few friends from high school who were home from college. You loved them, but you couldn’t relate to them a lot of the time. You knew they would accept you if you talked to them about your dad and his situation, but it always felt like there was some sort of wall between you and the rest of the world. One that was never there between you and Leon. Sometimes your dad managed to break through it, too. Sometimes.

As your father progressed in his recovery, you allowed yourself to let optimism back into your life. You went to visit him one weekend and ate lunch out in the yard.

“How’s Leon?”

“He’s fine, I think.”

Your father could see your attempt to evade further discussion.

“Is that it? You used to talk about Leon all the time when you were a kid,” your dad smiled as he spoke, “I’d come home, and you were always blabbing on about ‘Leon, Leon, Leon’.”

“Not much to blab about. He’s just Leon.”

Your dad accepted whatever you were willing to say and whatever you weren’t. He asked you about your friends, too. You’d spoken to him over the phone, and for the first time in a long time, he’d remembered what you spoke about. You didn’t have to retell the same stories because he was sober now. Your dad was drunk so often you thought you hated him, but sitting next to him on that sunny afternoon, you remembered why you loved your dad. He didn’t mention the tear that slipped down your cheek when he pulled back from his goodbye hug. He just gave you an extra “Love you, Kiddo” with a smile before sending you off.

Leon lived in your guest room, but emotionally, he was miles away. He had always been a workaholic, but it felt like he managed to spend even more time at the office than usual. One afternoon, when Leon was at work and you were sulking in your room, you got a call. 

Leon used to schedule his lunch breaks around you. When you were in middle school, struggling to make friends, you sat at a picnic table out in the courtyard on the phone with Leon. You cried on your first day. Your voice shook with every word, “I can’t do this.”

“You can do this.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because you’re you. You’re my girl.”

You told the mean girls who bullied you that you were talking to your boyfriend who went to a different school and they were stupid enough to buy it. Leon made you promise to stop, threatening to spill your little secret. 

One time, you went to the nurse after having a shitty third period, and subsequently getting cornered by the worst of the bully clique. They told you that you had to call your parents if needed to go home or you had to go back to class. You called Leon and lied, saying you felt too sick. He knew you were lying and he didn’t have to call you out on it for you to see that you’d been caught. You climbed into the passenger seat and he flashed you a look.

“So, what’s really going on?”

You dished out the gossip over milkshakes. You sang Sheryl Crow on the drive from the Burger King drive thru to the pond just far enough away from the school.

“This is a one time deal,” he said, “or Hunnigan will take the stick out of her ass and make me into a kebab with it.”

You laughed so hard that vanilla milkshake came out of your nose. At your expense, Leon laughed so hard he had tears in his eyes.

“You better not tell your dad about this either,” he said.

You pinky promised on it.

Middle school was long gone, but the days of you needing him were not. He was the one to break first. He needed you, too, it seemed. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, princess. I have an important question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“There’s a thing I have to go to for work… that I completely forgot about until Hunnigan reminded me… it’s an event with a bunch of diplomats and shit - point is, they’re sending me as the rep for the DSO and I need a date.”

“What’s your question?”

“Will you be my date?”

“When is it?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow? How formal is it?”

“Black tie-ish, maybe, I guess. I don’t know that much about dress codes. Hunnigan usually helps me with this.”

“I don’t have anything that formal.”

“That’s why I’m giving you advanced notice. So you can get something.”

Fuck it. “Okay,” you said. 

“Okay,” he said, “I’ll be home early tonight and we can figure out the plan for tomorrow.”

You were not Leon’s girlfriend, not his wife, not his daughter, but you were his date for the night. 

This wasn’t the first time you and Leon had danced together. He’d gone to a father-daughter dance with you when you were in kindergarten. Back then, you wore a little pink dress, cheap tulle fabric, and a tiara atop your head. Tonight, your gold dress was form-fitting around the hips with a tailored hem so you could dance without tripping over your feet. It didn’t quite brush the floor, the fabric stayed clean. The slit halfway up your thigh could only be seen when you moved. The classiest tease.

“Dance with me?” you asked with your hand out as an invitation, already inching towards the dance floor.

He thought about it for a good moment, and with an eye roll, he took your hand.

“For you,” he said.

It felt like prom night, in the awkward ‘where are we supposed to put our hands’ way. There was a novelty about it. Your arms around his neck and his carefully placed at your waist, no lower. You swayed back and forth, and Leon felt at peace for the first time in a long time. There was no pressure to be the father you never had and no expectation of the two of you sleeping together. It was just you, beautiful as ever, smiling as you swayed back and forth in time like you’d practiced.

“Did you take dance classes?” you asked him.

“No, why?” he asked.

“You dance effortlessly.”

“It’s not hard. You’re doing it too.”

“But you’re leading.”

“It’s simple,” he says, counting each step 1-2-3-4, slowly leading you through a box step.

Your smile made Leon smile. You made him giddy like no one else.

“Can you twirl me?” you asked because you knew he could unless he’d somehow forgotten how to in the years since he’d done it when you were a little girl.

“Of course,” he said with an unwavering grin as he spun you around, and to your surprise - and delight - he dipped you, too. He even dared to press a kiss to your cheek when he pulled you back up.

I love you. It was on the tip of your tongue, but you kept your mouth closed. Your smile said enough.

You and Leon made the mistake of getting tipsy on champagne, but the open bar was too tempting for either of you to refuse.

“I usually leave these things early,” Leon said to you around midnight. 

“You usually don’t invite me.”

“I should more often because you are a great dance partner.” It became effortless once you got the hang of it, so you both danced until your feet hurt, and then you danced a little more. 

“I’m glad you’ve enjoyed my dancing because I’ll probably never walk again after tonight,” you said, leaning onto him for support, “I need to get these shoes off.”

Wait until we get home, he tried to say, but what came out was, “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”

Leon had complimented you a thousand times. This should not have felt so novel. You were always his pretty princess, right? But his smile was not light and playful like it usually was with you. The look on his face was so sincere. The redness rising in his cheeks was the confession. It was real. 

“Should we go home?” You asked, secretly hoping you could get him to crawl in bed with you when you got there. 

“We have to wait until one of us sobers up enough to drive unless you want to get a cab…” he said, “or, we could get a room.”

Leon’s face lit up, almost like he was proud of himself for coming up with the idea - a little giddy about it, too. 

You had an even better idea to accompany his genius plan. “Can you hold the glasses while I get us a bottle?” You whispered. 

“What?” He whispered back. 

“Here.” You thrust your champagne flute at him after you down what was in it. “I’m going to go grab us something.”

“Wait,” Leon said, stopping you. 

“It’s not like they’re going to miss it.”

“I didn’t say ‘no’, I said, ‘wait’. Let me book us a room first. Then, we'll come back to conduct your little ‘operation’.”

Leon made mistakes, but he wasn’t completely careless. He flashed you two room keys a few moments later. 

“Take this,” he said, handing you one, “and go up to the fourth floor, room 405, take the glasses. I’ll get the bottle.”

You nodded and snuck out. You were lucky that no one was in the elevator to catch you with stolen goods since you didn’t have a jacket or a big enough purse to hide them in. You opened the door to find a lovely room with only one bed for the both of you to share. 

“Perfect,” you said to yourself. You stepped out of your shoes and slipped off your dress. You were down to only a thong, no bra. Seducing Leon was a secondary motive. You really just wanted to get out of your clothes. 

You covered yourself with the sheets before Leon walked in. You wanted it to be a surprise, and you were freezing your ass off. He swallowed hard when he saw your dress pooled on the floor. 

“So?” He asked, holding up the bottle. “Want me to do the honors?”

“Yes, please.”

He poured one glass for each of you and said, “A toast?”

You nodded and held up your glass, giving him the go ahead. 

He hesitated. “A toast to you,” he said, “for being the prettiest girl in every room.”

You clinked glasses with him and tried not to look too emotional. 

“Like Celine and Jesse, right?”

“Hm?”

“Stealing the champagne. In Before Sunrise they steal a bottle of wine and wine glasses.”

“Yeah, I forgot about that. I think I’m Celine and you’re Jesse, though.”

“You do? Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling I have.”

You put your glass on the bedside table while Leon took off his shoes and his jacket. He left his glass sitting on the dresser next to the TV. Every rational part of his mind would be telling him not to do this, but they had all been lulled to sleep by the alcohol. 

He didn’t climb into bed next to you. He leaned over and kissed you. It was better than you remembered. You reached out and pulled him in again when he pulled away to take a breath. This time he didn’t argue, he leaned into the kiss. It was more passionate than the last time you’d done this. 

Leon murmured something about taking his pants off and you made no effort to stop him. The room was quiet minus the clinking sound of his belt buckle and then the pop of a button and the pulling of a zipper. You’d seen Leon’s dick before. You were eager to see it again, and yet, waited patiently while you watched him undress. His calloused hands ran down his torso, taking his shirt off button by button. He hung up his clothes in the closet, though he’d send them to the dry cleaners regardless. He wasn’t sexy, hot, DILF-ish. He was beautiful. You pretended you were watching your husband take off his suit after a long day at work. A familiar man, one you’d chosen to lie down next to every night. You longed for that choice. 

He returned to you in nothing but his underwear, matching you in his state of undress. 

“Wanna let me in?” He asked. 

You lifted the covers. When he got under the sheets, he lay down on his side facing you. Your bodies drifted closer to each other until your skin was touching his. His lips were on yours again. You weren’t sure whether or not to ask. You didn’t want to shatter the delicate moment. 

His hands roamed your body, ending up on your waist. 

“Can I touch you?” you asked. 

“Mhm,” he said. Not a reluctant yes, but a guilty one. If he didn’t say it, maybe it wasn’t so bad. 

He watched as you palmed him through the fabric of his underwear. His breath hitched, and you asked, “Can I go down on you?”

He didn’t respond at first. “Please?” You asked. 

“Yeah,” he said. His gaze was hazy and warm despite his icy blue eyes. He changed his position so that you could be on top of him. You kissed down his stomach, making your way down to the v-line of his hips. He pulled the covers down before you could dip your head below them. You thought it was a courtesy. So you could breathe. 

He said, “I wanna see you.”

You were slightly nervous for your performance, but he looked pleased with the show by the time you’d gotten his dick out of his pants. You licked a stripe up the side while you looked into his eyes. He rubbed your cheek and smiled. 

You took him into your mouth, slowly easing yourself down so as not to gag. You couldn’t go all the way down, but he didn’t mind at all. He was focused on trying to keep his eyes from closing and his head from lolling back. 

His breath was ragged and his hands ran through your hair. He didn’t dare move his hips. 

“Fuck,” he said, “C’mere.”

It was clear he was getting close. He pulled you up so that you were on top of him, your noses touching. He asked in a whisper, “Do you wanna do this?”

He was nervous. You could hear it in his voice. You’d had sex before. It wasn’t your first time doing this with each other. But, it was your first time making love. Something Leon hadn’t done in so many years it felt brand new to him, too. 

You nodded and he swiftly flipped you over, so he was on top. He was going to take care of you. He always took care of you. That was the one thing that never changed between the two of you.

He kissed you with such a passion that every other kiss you’d shared before that was put to shame. Every time he touched you, he did so with reverence. The last time you were naked and entangled, it was morally dubious at best, a cardinal sin at worst. This was something holy.

He slipped your thong down your thighs and you kicked it off, letting it disappear somewhere in the sheets. He’d peeled back the final layer that stood between your skin and his. Leon paused. Everything paused. All that was left was your heavy breathing, matching his, and the thrum of your heartbeat, hard, but steady in your chest. Sure of its own existence more than ever at that moment. Leon ran his hands over your entire body, making sure to learn the way every atom made up your physical form. He understood you more than ever when his hands grazed your inner thighs. Your breath hitched when he brushed his fingertips over your clit. 

Then, he began to finger you, getting you ready for him - which didn’t take very long. 

You felt the head of his cock prodding at your entrance, and he asked, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

It took you a moment, but you realized what he meant: I don’t have a condom. 

“Yeah,” you said, confidently as the thought of feeling him inside you without any barrier made you more aroused. 

He began with slow thrusts. He kept his body close to yours. He didn’t increase his speed, but you could feel him deeper inside you. When he was finally fully encased by your warmth, he groaned. You could feel his cock pulsate and it made you moan. He never pulled all the way out, he stayed deep inside you for as long as he could, rocking his hips slowly. You wished for your bodies to melt into one. This was the closest you’d ever get. 

It didn’t make you scream or cry or swear, but your breath quickened and your legs trembled. You got close to the edge faster than the last time. It took all of Leon’s willpower not to come when you did. You didn’t warn him, though he saw it coming. You arched your back and dragged your nails down his back. You could apologize later if you even remembered. He pulled out just in time to paint your thighs with thick white ropes.

There was the briefest moment of clarity. The duality of ‘this was a mistake’ and ‘I love you’ was at the forefront of both your minds. 

“Don’t think about it,” your eyes said when he returned with a wet washcloth to wipe you down. 

He got into bed beside you and pulled you close. 

You didn’t talk about that night, but things got marginally better. In some ways, it was like the sex had smoothed things over. You noticed the creases forming next to Leon’s eyes when he smiled at you - it wasn’t forced anymore. But that was all it was. When you brushed up against him in the kitchen, he walked past you, not thinking anything about it. You wanted his arms encircling your waist, his face in your neck, pressing kisses to your skin. Since that night, your thoughts were filled with wedding bands, baby clothes, watching Leon get dressed every morning from your shared bed. You wondered sometimes how well he remembered that night in the hotel. His credit card sure did. 

You started spending time with friends. You needed to get out of the house before you made yourself crazy. When you did go out, you stayed out late, and Leon gave you the typical “if you’re going to drink, don’t drive,” which was all too pertinent given your dad’s situation.

You didn’t drink that night, so you did drive home. Your friend had a family obligation the next day - oh, what it would be like to have one of those, you thought. 

You got home around midnight after having been out since the afternoon. You walked inside, took off your shoes, and planned to go to your room until you heard rustling coming from the living room. You walked into the living room, your living room, your father’s living room, to see Leon balls-deep in some woman you’d never seen before.

With messy hair falling upon his forehead and sweat beading on his brow, Leon locked eyes with you. The mystery woman was facing away. You could only see her brown hair on the throw pillow and her legs wrapped around Leon’s hips. You bolted upstairs, worried you’d be physically ill if you stayed in that room for one second longer.

This time, you did cry - after screaming into your pillow. This was worse than leaving you. There was no contract between the two of you about being with other people; rather, he’d specifically told you to find someone else the first time you’d had sex. It was a one time thing. But it was a one time thing that happened twice, more than twice if you count the time over the phone. Every act of love you shared, no matter how right it felt, was still a broken promise, still a foolish decision, just kicking more dents into your fragile relationship.

This was the greatest violation in all of human history. You wanted to tattle to your father, but what would that do? Yeah, fucking on his couch would get Leon a read of the riot act, but to truly explain the severity, the double backstabbing that he’d done, you’d have to tell your father that you’d slept with Leon. And you sure as hell weren’t going to tell him about that.

There was a knock at your bedroom door.

“Go away,” you yelled.

“Open up,” Leon called back.

“Go tell that to the stupid whore downstairs! I don’t want you anymore!”

She can have my sloppy seconds, you thought. But, in reality, weren’t you having someone’s sloppy seconds the whole time? Leon was your first, your only, but you were a notch in his bedpost.

Leon could scold you about calling the woman a whore, but he didn’t. “She’s gone. I kicked her out.”

“Pumped and dumped her, too?” Just like you did with me, Leon. Only you can’t leave physically.

“Excuse me?”

“Come and go, blow your load, and hit the road; how else would you like me to say it?”

“Open the door,” he said again, but you could hear the smile forming on his face. At least you were funny, even if you couldn’t be good enough for the true once-in-a-lifetime love you wanted from him. 

You opened the door, dressed in your PJs, which consisted of a tank top and a pair of panties. He didn’t deserve to look at you like that. You covered yourself with the door.

“What do you want, Leon?”

“To apologize.”

“For what?”

“For having sex in the living room.”

“Why?”

“You know why. All of the reasons why.”

He knew you about as well as you knew yourself. He knew all the ‘whys’ even if he couldn’t verbalize them.

You remember when you were little and got in trouble for a stupid thing you did as a child. You disobeyed Leon in some way - secretly ate a cookie while he wasn’t looking, snuck out of your room to watch TV, messed with his paperwork, etc. You drew him an ‘I’m sorry’ card in crayon.

He wasn’t going to pull out the crayons.

“What can I do to apologize to you?”

“Nothing. There’s nothing. It’s all wrong. It’s all gone. Everything.” Everything we were, everything we could’ve been.

When you were a little girl, you thought you were going to marry Leon. He and your dad both thought it was funny, so you had a fake wedding ceremony. It was innocent at the time. You had ring pops instead of wedding bands, and he kissed you on the cheek, not the lips.

You were going to be ‘Mrs. Kennedy’. Your brain persisted, and Leon only solidified the idea in your mind when he took your virginity. It was the last piece of you that you held from him. He had your soul but never your body. Now, he had that, too. You had an old t-shirt of his and tainted memories. Nothing more.

“What do you mean?” He asked. There was a partial understanding. Everything between the two of you was always going to be different. He’d warned you before you had sex with him. But there was more to it than that.

“I just saw you with that woman. I can never unsee that.”

“You’ve seen me naked before, and you know I’ve had sex with other women.”

And I promised you nothing.

“But, it’s like, you’re totally different now.” You gestured vaguely at his body, something that now held more meaning, a complex layer of disgust covering him.

“How?” I’m the same man I’ve always been.

“Not to me.”

He sighed and held the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“I think you see me as someone I’m not, someone I’ve never been.”

“That’s not true. You’ve always been good to me.”

“But you only know what I show you.”

“So you’re a dick to everyone else? You’re a fucking asshole every moment I’m not in the room with you?”

“I don’t think I’m that bad, but I’m not anyone’s knight in shining armor.”

“You were mine.”

“No, I wasn’t. You thought I was. I didn’t want you to see the bad parts of me. I still don’t. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Goodnight,” you said and closed the door in his face.

There was nothing you could do to forget. You felt something you’d never felt before. You wanted your mom - a woman you had no memory of, someone you’d never known. She left when you were a baby, but your dad never talked badly about her. His words were rare but had a nostalgic sweetness. You’d heard Leon say a few nice things about her over the years, too. You had a picture of her in a drawer in your bedroom. You pulled it out and looked at a face almost identical to yours. You wished, in some way, that both your father and Leon had left with her. Surely she wasn’t perfect - in fact, you should resent her for leaving, but you’d never heard anything to taint your image of her. She was just a woman who made a bad choice once, but you weren’t attached enough to be angry, and no one had cracked the facade you put up around her image. If you had her phone number, you’d call.

Leon was in the next room over, and somehow, he was further away than her and more absorbed in mystery. 

Your dad came home. He came home sober with suitcases in hand, holding his arms out for you. You ran into them. You sobbed harder than you ever had. Happy tears flowed easier than sad tears. There wasn’t anything holding you back from crying.

Your dad’s hand held the back of your head while you buried your head in his chest. You ate dinner at the kitchen table together. You felt lost without Leon. He left your house, you stayed, and yet it felt like you’d woken up in a completely different place than the one you’d fallen asleep in. It wasn’t bad, just different. You wished there was a way to put all of the parts of your life together. You’d have to put super glue on mismatched puzzle pieces. It would always be a futile effort. You had Leon, you have dad, you’ll probably never have mom. 

“What are you thinking about?” Your dad’s voice called you back to the present. 

“Nothing,” you said, faking a smile. 

“What are you really thinking about?”

“Mom,” you said. You were, you always got stuck when you thought about her because you were trying to imagine a woman who was a stranger to you. 

“Mom? Why?” You expected him to be somber, maybe bitter even, but he was intrigued, it seemed. 

“She’s been on my mind recently. I’ve been thinking about you, my dad, my parent, and- and I don’t want to sound greedy because I’m lucky to have you here, but I wish there was more than just us.”

“You’ve got Leon,” he offered. 

You scoffed, waving it away with your hand. “Don’t bring up Leon right now.”

“Is there drama between the two of you?”

“No, I wouldn’t call it ‘drama’.” 

It’s way, way worse than that, you thought.

“You’ll get over it, he’ll get over it. It always works itself out.”

“Who are you and what did you do with my dad? What’s with all this optimism?” You playfully nudged his shoulder. 

“What can I say? This whole therapy thing has given me a new outlook on life.”

He paused before taking on a more serious tone. “And, a near-death experience gave me a new appreciation for life. I didn’t care much about my own life. I could take it or leave it.”

“Dad…” You couldn’t find the right words. 

“No, no, let me finish: you are important to me.” He put his hand on your shoulder and locked eyes with you. “I remember going in and out of consciousness the day of the accident, and seeing your face. I hate to see you cry like that. I didn’t realize how much the things I do affect you.”

You raised an eyebrow. I’m your child, you thought, how would it not affect me?

“I’m serious. It sounds stupid. I was being selfish, and I always knew that, but I didn’t realize how much you needed me. You had Leon, and you always liked him better anyway. I figured you didn’t mind being left alone with him sometimes.”

“I don’t mind seeing Leon, but I still need my dad.”

“I know. I was making excuses for my own behavior. I know it’s a little late to say it, but I want to be a good father.”

“Better late than never. Better than mom…”

“No,” he said, “you don’t know your mother’s reasons for leaving. It wasn’t you. She loved you.”

“She left because of you.” You were blunt with him. You usually were. 

“She couldn’t take the drinking problem, my constant working. If she could’ve taken you with her, I think she would have.”

“If she wanted to, she would have.”

“No, babies are expensive, and I was always the breadwinner. I think she hoped it would be a wake-up call and I would get better. She thought it was the right choice for you.”

You sighed and tried not to roll your eyes. You wished he’d get angry at her for leaving. Shouldn’t that be easy? Shouldn’t that be right? Whatever, you thought, maybe he’s like you - good at making peace with people leaving. 

“I know it wasn’t due to my parenting, but you turned out pretty darn great.”

“I’m kind of a disaster, actually.”

“Blame the ‘disaster’ parts of yourself on me. You’re kind, you’re funny, you’re smart-”

“I’m not that smart, trust me.”

I’m such an idiot. You have no idea. 

“I’m not going to ask because somehow I feel like whatever you’re up to, it’s something I don’t want to hear about. Just promise me you’ll be safe, okay?”

“I promise. As long as you promise, too.” You held out your pinky. 

“Promise,” he said, interlocking his pinky finger with yours. 

You let yourself believe him. You decided to take a dose of his optimism, irrational as it seemed. At least let yourself fantasize, right? You’ve got something. Maybe not everything, but something. Maybe not Leon, but you’ve got dad, and isn’t that what you wanted the whole time? 

That same night, Leon went out with a woman he’d been casually talking to - it was time to move on from you, at least in the romantic way. 

You’d always have some sort of bond.

Leon sat through dinner, dissecting his steak out of boredom. It wasn’t worth the price. He could cook a better one himself. The woman sitting across from him was talking about something, but he wasn’t quite sure what due to the fact that he wasn’t listening. 

“Leon?” She said, irritated. 

“Yeah?” He said with the least fake-looking smile he could muster. 

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, why? What did I miss?”

“I asked you-”

“-have you seen the movie ‘Before Sunrise’?”

“Yeah? I never really understood the hype.”

“What? It’s a great movie. The sequel is great, too.”

“I didn’t see it.”

“You should. Maybe it’s unrealistic to think about that once in a lifetime love, but don’t you think we should try to find that? No matter how irrational it seems?”

“You do realize you’re on a date right now, and you’re talking about love and romance like it’s this lofty, unattainable concept.”

“I see your point.”

The waiter comes by with the check and Leon thanks him, and thanks God silently, too. 

“I don’t think you’re ever going to find it if you can’t even pay attention to a woman. I like you, Leon, and I’d ask you to come home with me, but-”

Leon knew he shouldn’t see you again, but when he got his credit card out of his wallet to pay for dinner, he saw your picture. He’d always kept it there. He’d change the photo about once a year and keep the others in his bedside drawer. It’s a picture of you in your cap and gown. He was so proud of you; he is so proud of you. He loved you then; he loves you now. The problem is that he’s falling in love with you now. It’s not just familial; it’s not lust, either.

He thought about When Harry Met Sally, which is your third favorite movie after Jerry Maguire and Before Sunrise. The woman asked him if he wanted to take this back to her place, and he was barely paying attention when he said ‘no.’ He gave her a half-assed excuse and dumped tic-tacs in his mouth so he didn’t have wine on his breath because he knew you hate the taste of red wine. He wasn’t drunk, though. If he were, he wouldn’t drive. Leon’s an idiot, Leon’s a fuck-up, but Leon knows he’s a shitty driver. He won’t risk his life on his way to you. This isn’t a tragedy, he hoped.

He forgot your dad was probably home, but fuck it. If he’s really in love, he’ll confess it in public.

“I’m in love with you,” he said when you opened the door. It wasn’t ‘Hello’. You couldn’t say, ‘You had me at hello’ because he began with, ‘I’m in love with you.’

You stared at him long enough that he started fumbling through apologies and excuses. You didn’t say anything. You pulled him into a kiss, which was to say what he should’ve known all along.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

[echantedtoon]

Caught Once Again

For those who were wondering what would happen IF Y/n got caught again. Sequel to my Yandere Demons And Brides posts and my Escaping Yandere Demons post. Some will be shorter than others.

Warnings for yandere themes, scars and illness mentioned, Douma/Enmu/Karaku ARE their own warnings, possibly some innuendos, kidnapping and entrapment mentions, death mentioned, etc.

Daki n Zohakutan are included with Hantengu's and Gyutaro's part but they're PLATONIC Yanderes.

KOKUSHIBO:

-The demon who had taken you hostage for weeks claiming you to be his wife's reincarnation had never left your mind after you escaped. It wasn't easy either. Kokushibo had heightened senses that were beyond human.

-You took the chance to escape one day after he left just before sunrise, making you hug him and greet him goodbye like a good wife should, before he left locking up the door behind him as he went. You took the chance to poke around trying to find any source of outage. A secret basement, the chimney, ANYTHING! Eventually you managed to find a weakened point on a boarded window. Clawing wildly you managed to tear away the wood, and smashing out the glass to freedom.

-You didn't look back. The small cuts you got were nothing as you ran and ran from that cursed house as far as you could until you collapsed from exhaustion. You made it. You were out but you weren't safe yet. You still moved away far away as you could before the sun sets. Kokushibo didn't come back every night so hopefully you'd have a few days to run. You couldn't go back home, that'd be the first place he looks for you so you decided to run along the river. Eventually coming along to and settling into a small fishing town.

-You decided to just lay low here. Getting a job as one of the net weavers and keeping to yourself in fear of being found out. Weeks passes. Months passed. And you were slowly letting your guard down, believing that perhaps you had hidden well enough to never be seen again. But you still didn't go out at night.

-One night though you allowed yourself to stay out, after all the small town was hosting a festival and you deserved to have fun after so long. You were playing a small game. Tossing a ball into a pit to win a prize when you saw it. Six eyes piercing through the darkness and staring at you. You didn't even have time to turn and flee when you smacked into the purple and black clothed chest and two strong hands pulled you against him in a possessive hold as you gaze up into half lidded eyes.

"You made a valiant effort to get away however I believe that it's time you come back home, Wife."

HANTENGU(+CLONES):

-You thanked the gods for how easily trickable the demon was, making it so easy for you to run far away. Right past town and towards the nearest safe point you knew which happened to be a grove of wild Wysteria trees. There's no way any of them would suspect that you'd be there and even if they did, what were they going to do? Demons couldn't survive Wysteria poisoning and avoided it like the plague.

-It wasn't bad really. It was a beautiful place. There was always beautiful trees surrounding you, a nice floral scent in the air, and you even found an old abandoned shack that you spruced up to make it livable. Overall it's not a bad life, but you wish it was more open like before. Your ease falters when fall comes and the leaves on the trees wither away and the flowers die. However they're still Wysteria trees so you don't think they'd dare come around your little grove and with each passing day that you never see then again, your mind believes that.

-Until winter comes to cover everything in snow. You're out one night with only the moonlight to see trying to shovel out snow from your front door, shivering in the cold and hair whipping in the wind. Perhaps that's why you couldn't hear the approaching wingbeats until it was too late. Two giant eagle like hands wrapped around your shoulders and in an instant you were sailing through the air. Shrieking as the ground disappeared beneath you and shrieking more as you looked up into the yellow eyes of an overjoyed harpy demon pulling him tightly against his chest with a loud happy chirping sound. "OH GOOD FUCK!! I'D THOUGHT WE'D NEVER FIND YOU, FEATHER! This game wasn't fun when you didn't come home you know!"

-No matter how hard you struggle, Urogi was too strong for you to break free from as he flies you all back to the others. All seven have varying reactions when Urogi just lands down with you struggling to get away and clawing at his arms. He was supposed to grab them someone for dinner but instead he brings back their missing wife. The first ones to react are Aizetsu and Sekido. The sorrow clone balling into your shoulder with a crushing hug making your shoulder wet. "I'M SO HAPPY YOU'RE OK!! WE'RE NEVER GONNA LET YOU GET LOST AGAIN!!" Meanwhile Sekido is scowling relieved but still raged. "WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU MADE US FEEL?!"

-Urami and Karaku have similar reactions to Sekido and Aizetsu. Urami joins Sekido in scolding you. "DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED WE WERE!? WHY DIDN'T YOU COME HOME ALREADY?! DID SOMEONE PUT YOU UP TO THIS?! YOU'VE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE!" Meanwhile Karaku is surprisingly calm actually apologizing if it's his actions made you so mad that you left but he was planning on making it all up to you now. "Don't worry, Baby. We got all the time in the world to make up for lost time."

-In the meantime Hantengu is sniveling alongside Aizetsu as both are crying into your terrified form making your dress soaked. "It's not my fault! It's not my fault!" Is all he can say in defense. Zohakutan is the most annoyed at all. It'll take hours for him to be able to have a moment to talk to you because of how much everyone else is crowding you for their turn but once he does be prepared for the longest lecture of your life. "Sit down! We are going to have a V E R Y long talk!"

DOUMA:

-If Douma's irratic emotional state wasn't enough to scare you away then his cannibalistic demon nature was. From his sudden mood swings to the unstable bout of love declarations he'd give you out of no where, dropping to his knees to shout out it all or just kissing you unprompted. It was all too much but with so many people surrounding you and a powerful demon how did you get away?

-Simple. You hid inside one of the supply crates. Once and a while some of the cult members would leave to try and recruit more members, on these trips they'd take a crate or two of supplies like pamphlets and food. Well Douma had been busy attending to whatever Muzan wanted and there wasn't anyone guarding the crates, so you emptied one out and snuck yourself inside. No one suspected you were inside when they moved the crates outside and down the mountainside for the long trip to one of the nearby towns. And no one saw it coming when you busted out of the crate once you were placed down and RAN. Disappearing into the crowd of people and using the cover of people to get far away from the demon and crazy cult!

-Thankfully the town they happened to stop by had a train station. It was easy to trade one of the many stupid, overpriced pieces of Jewelry Douma always made you wear for a ticket and easier for you to hop on the train and get outta dodge. Relief flooding your systems as the mountain side got farther and farther away from you. And compared to your other Y/n counterparts, it was easier for you to start over. Cutting your hair and dying it, going by a sub version of your name, and selling off what was left of the jewelry on you to gain enough money to buy you a nice warm apartment somewhere random in Asakusa city. Hiding in plain sight sounded like the best idea. And eventually getting a job as a seamtress in a random shop.

-A whole year passed on since the day you escaped and it was almost like it never happened. Never once did you hear about the stupid cult or have people worshipping you weirdly or worst of all having the threat of a demon over your shoulders. All you did was keep your head down and minded your own business. It was good. Life was good. It wasn't until your boss mentioned getting a brand new extremely handsome and rich customer coming in that day did things change. You knew what to do so you already prepared yourself to take measurements and the silk fabric he requested for. Not even paying attention to who it was as you prepared your scissors and measuring tape as your boss guided him into the room with just the two of you with a- "Just let me know if you need anything else!"

-You still don't look up at the frozen figure staring down at you as you just instruct him to stand on the stool and hold his arms up so you can measure his waistline instead you're met with a thud as whoever it was drops to his knees and two strong arms ensnare you in a tight hug. You shout whirling around at the inappropriate behavior but freeze as two rainbow eyes filled with anger, sadness, mad love, and tears spear you straight into the soul.

"Lotus Blossom, I thought I lost you forever there! Good thing we're fated to never be separated. A R E N T W E?"

NAKIME:

-(Apologies if her part is short.) Whelp. You made it out. Running and running and running through the woods to get away from the terrible castle and the woman who self proclaimed to be your 'wife'. You almost made it out of there...Almost. Just before your feet hit the dirt road, a door opens up under you and you fall in. Landing face first with a thud in front of the frowning woman.

"Are you quite done with your childish games?"

ENMU:

-You didn't go back anywhere near trains or stations now that you were free. Screw that mess! You were done with stupid trains and their dumb cars and crazy perverted demons who think that's it's flirting when he let's you punch and kick him out of frustration.

-Nope! You stayed FAR AWAY from tracks in general and just kept yourself at home from now on. So how did he find you again? Turns out HE COULD leave the train body. Not very far away just just far enough to get to your house and wake you up during one of the few times you could actually sleep and then squeal in delight again as you curse him out in his grip and kick him to no avail.

"Oh dear.~ You have no idea how lonely it was to not have you in my arms again.~"

AKAZA:

-With your bad leg limping as you ran for your freedom hearing Akaza's concerned voice shriek out before PLEADING with you to come back. "YOU COULD GET KILLED OUT THERE?! PLEASE COME BACK!! YOU'RE NOT WELL ENOUGH TO BE ON YOUR OWN!!" You don't care. You didn't ask him to 'help you'! You never even wanted him to be near you in the first place.

-Instead of turning back you continue to leg it down the hill you were on cursing the demons that put you in this permanent hurt state. You managed to limp half way back to your family's home before your exhaustion and pain makes you collapse against a nearby tree to rest. It was almost nighttime and yet you were still no closer to home. Panting and heaving, you break off a study stick nearby and use it as a crutch to hop along on your good leg trying to get as far as you can before Akaza can come back for you. If you can make it to the town's temple then you'd be safe at least until the next morning then you can get farther away from him and everything else that could lead him to you.

-You make it to the top of another hill overlooking the town just as it darkens and you can see the first few lights of the houses. Relief floods your being as you hobble towards the town until your stick ends up slipping and you fall over. The wind being knocked out of your body by the first hit before your body starts turning, rolling down the hill painfully as you fall. Hitting rocks and sticks and everything in between until two strong hands grabbed you by the sides. Stopping you just in time before your head could crack against a rock with jagged points. Dizzy you glance up with your spinning vision and feel your stomach drop as worried yellow orbs stare back to you.

"It's too dangerous for you to be without me! Don't you see that?!

GYUTARO(+PLATONIC UME/DAKI):

-You made it out of that gods forsaken hole in the ground. Coughing and in bad shape but alive and well however escaping was another much harder thing to do with your bad sight. Everything looked the same. Blurs, and colors smashed together. Everyone walking bad blobs of color. No one seeming to care about what happened to you as you stumbled around all dirted from climbing out of the hole and begging anyone around you for help only being met with dirty looks and shouted insults at you.

-if no one was going to help you, then you had to make your way out of the E District. You wondered aimlessly. Bumping into everything and anyone. Flinching as people just plain pushed you out of the way knocking you over or leaving you stumbling for balance. Night fell sooner than your terrified mind thought it would. The crowd's became worse, more crowded and so blurry it made your head spin. It made you cry in fear and frustration the longer you stood there in the middle of the street. Eventually turning to leave until you're pulled into an alleyway by a harsh hand. Screaming out before a hand silences you already fearing the worst until a loud familiar yell pierces your ears.

"Helpless without me aren't you?! I hoped you learnt your lesson because this isn't going to happen again. Do you hear me?"

"DO YOU HEAR HIM?! THAT WAS THE STUPIDEST THING ANYONE'S EVER DONE! YOU'RE LUCKY YOU'RE MY FRIEND AND BROTHER LIKES YOU SO MUCH!!"

HAIROU:

-You had one shot and you blew it. It was a long shot anyways. You knew you couldn't get away from him unless you fled in the middle of one of the episodes he had caused by his PTSD hoping that the hours head start you had would be enough to escape him and his hellish hounds. No such luck. You flinch hearing the sounds of gunshots behind you(Hairou shooting himself to clear his panicked mind) but you still don't stop. Just continuing to run and run and not look back.

-As you run through the darkness, you hear them. Howls and the sounds of dogs running behind you catching up to your terrified form to run on either side of you until you're forced to stop as at least five shadow hounds emerge from nowhere in front of your panting form. Growling and barking at your forms getting closer and closer. Backing you up more and more making you scream with every jolt they gave you until your back ran into a chest and an arm suddenly wrapped around yourself.

"That was a cheap trick. Too bad you won't be able to do it again."

GYOKKO:

-You made it out. It was almost impossible for you to escape but you managed to do it. Delayed only by the fact that his vase was turned upside down and it was daylight outside when you ran away. You knew you couldn't return home, that'd be the first place he looked for you. So without any idea of where to go or what to do,you decided to start traveling. Walking down along the road and picking up scraps here and there, stealing a random few dresses off someone's laundry line, and a burlap sack filled with some veggies from a farmer's barn. Now equiped with the items you needed in one bag, you began moving from place to place. Never staying in one place for too long, only traveling during the day and hiding away during the night. This worked out quite well for avoiding him... temporarily.

-You were miserable. Missing the comforts of your home. Missing being able to use your skills and making things. You want to go home, but you can't in fear of the demon still lurking about. Eventually your travels eventually leads you to the dreaded E District. With nothing else to do, you beg the first house master you see for a job any job at wits end. Eventually he does. As a servant. It's not the worst job. You don't have to entertain any guests, only clean floors, bring the ladies food, and help the girls with their clothes and make up if they need it. In exchange you're paid with a small room to sleep in and and one free meal a day. Definitely not the worst outcome. Beats being a demon's 'muse'.

-One day an oirans favorite kimono is ruined. Right before she was to see a special customer too. Well you use your former skills as a kimono maker and offer to fix said oirans dress for free. She's skeptical about it but agrees to let you fix it and is surprised that not only did you fix it but it looked like it wasn't even torn. She's so impressed with it that it starts up a conversation between you two about your skill. You mention used to having a store and making kimonos before misfortune made you lose your job(leaving out the demon art of course). Well she decides that she wants one and so orders you and the house master to get her one that matches her demands specifically.

-You happily agree missing your old job and happily make her one in a few weeks time. She's in love with the beautiful blue kimono with waves stitched on so beautifully that it looks almost real. You're so happy that you don't even realize that the oirans is actually a demon in dequise and she wears her new kimono to a demon meeting. Or that another demon instantly recognizes the work she's wearing. Gyokko compliments and flatters Daki into telling him where exactly she got the kimono and she has no problems bragging about how her new girl made it just for her and no one else. You really shouldn't have been horrified when you retire to your room later that night and is met with a beautiful vade in the middle of the room.

"Really I thought you would've known how tasteless it was to think that you could outsmart me."

KAIGAKU:

-Your first instinct after getting out was to make for the first demon slayer you could find but the problem with that was that you had no idea where you were or where the Haishiras were training. You just dove through the first door you saw leading to the outside and ran. Ran until light peeked into the skies and still you kept going until you came to the first town. Taking shelter in the nearest public room which happened to be a library.

-Naively you thought you were safe there. You were just a healer after all, you didn't know that demons could track by scent. So when you fall asleep amongst the books as night falls, and you wake up two angry hands yanking you up to him bridal style. You can't help but scream.

"Do I look like a dam idiot to you?! You're going to regret being so dumb!"

KYOGAI:

-You had one shot at it. When Kyogai's distracted by an intruder in his house, you make for the nearest room with a window you can find. Opening doors in a panic, eyes looking around wildly for any way you can leave until you see it. A window that's right in front of you and it's open! Without hesitation you run towards it and jumped out. However what you didn't know was that you were on the second floor so when you jumped out, you had a painful landing.

-You didn't break your leg but it was either severely sprained or fractured from the pain you felt. Your pained scream alerting Kyogai to the nearest window to where he looked on in horror as you struggled to get up. It burnt him badly, but he immediately ran out in the sunlight to get you and drag you back inside. He can regenerate in a few minutes, your leg would take much longer.

"That was incredibly stupid of you,Water Beetle."

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Diamond Rings 💫

Bale!Bruce Wayne x wife!reader

A/N: I finally got around to writing this lovely request!! Fluffy morning sex is perfect for Bruce AHHH 😭 and this is also the sequel to 'My Precious Jewel' !! Get your nom noms :3

~Fi 🐝

《Prompt》: the ask is here!

《Requested by》: anon <3

《Warnings》: NSFW CONTENT. proceed with caution. Handjob, edging (barely), PiV, throat holding (???), creampie (don't be like them), lil bit of cockwarming, so fluffy it's sickening, Bruce is a hopeless romantic, change my mind. (You can't)

《Word count》: 2.6k

Sequel to My Precious Jewel ♧

Can be read as stand alone as well though!

Masterlist ✨️

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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The morning sun was streaming in through the curtains, tickling your face. You stirred, craning your neck to take a peak at the time. 8:39 am. You sighed sleepily, turning around and snuggling closer to the man who had his strong arms wrapped around you.

You smiled softly as you saw his peaceful expression, still dreaming away. Feeling a cold sensation on your hot skin, you gently lifted the covers. The hand that held you tightly yet so lovingly had a gold ring sitting on its ring finger. You quickly inspected your own hand, finding a golden wedding band there as well.

You had to stop yourself from squealing like a little girl when you realized that all of it, the wedding, the reception and the kiss weren't a dream. You were officially married now.

There were so many emotions bubbling up in your chest. Unbridled joy, disbelief, and pure excitement. But, you'd decided to deal with all of that later, and for now just enjoy your first morning snooze as Mrs. Wayne.

You pressed a sweet kiss to Bruce's lips, and closed your eyes, burying your face in his t-shirt clad chest. It wasn't even 9 in the morning. You'd sleep till dusk like this if you could. Safely in the embrace of your now husband, feeling each other's steady heartbeat and soft breaths.

A comfortable silence lingered over the estate, safe for Alfred who was probably doing all kinds of things already. You'd urged for him to sleep in today, he deserved a break. But, to your dismay, you knew the man and he couldn't just sit and relax even if he was chained to the chair. Well, as long as he enjoyed whatever he had to do you wouldn't complain.

Your slightly parted lips were pressed right above his heart, gently brushing the cozy fabric of his shirt with every breath. One of your arms was slung over his waist, your fingertips gliding over his back in whatever random pattern your wrist decided to carry out. It was a soothing gesture, making Bruce hum sleepily as he pressed his lips to the top of your head, your hair tickling his face.

His arms tightened around you, making it clear that he didn't want to leave the bed either. He felt like he had been put in chains, in a loving and warm way, not in a constricting and controlling manner. The chains that were your love and affection kept him tied down, sinking into the soft sheets, with an even softer you in his grip.

"Don't ever wanna leave this bed..." you mumbled into his chest. A drowsy smile tugged at Bruce's lips as maneuvered you closer so your legs were intertwined.

"I don't either... never wanna be without you." He sighed, feeling the familiar and gentle call of sleep.

"Wanna sink into the mattress, let it swallow us whole."

Your husband chuckled softly. Lack of sleep and early mornings did tend to bring out the poet in you.

"You can tell me all about that in, say... 4 hours?" His words were jumbled, the heavy fog of slumber taking over his brain. It took you a minute to put together what he said, as your own brain was still neatly tucked in its own metaphorical bed.

The furrow in your brows softened when you understood what he was trying to tell you, and you pulled the blanket tighter around the both of you.

"Very, very good idea."

Soon enough, you slipped back into colorful dreams, safely tucked against Bruce's chest.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

A strange feeling that settled in Bruce's bones is what woke him up. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling by all means, it was just... odd. A peculiar buzz in his skull, that slowly trickled down into his spine. It was euphoric almost, making him hazy about his surroundings but too aware of every nerve in his body.

His shirt was soft, too soft, and the buttons on the pillowcase dug uncomfortably into his ribcage. The sliver of sun that managed to sneak its way through the thick curtains fell directly on his face.

His nose scrunched up as the blinding light slowly burned his eyes. Yet the warming and comforting feeling on his cheeks made him stay in place, taking in the new day instead of pulling the covers over his face.

He shifted slightly, shivering when a cool sensation set the nerves in his thigh on fire. The sight of your hand, your married hand, on his leg, made a fire ignite in his stomach that was so ravenous and destructive it could've turned him to ash from the inside out.

The gleaming of your ring, the ring that he put there, made his heart rush and his cock twitch in his briefs.

"Been waiting for you to wake up." With a sweet smile playing on your lips and a certain glint in your pretty eyes that he'd seen many times before, you stroked your thumb over his skin. Your touch made his breath hitch ever so slightly, which didn't go unnoticed by you. It never did.

You were able to read Bruce like an open book, all the tricks he'd acquired over the years and used on the public to shift his image didn't work on you. They never really had, even from the beginning. For some odd reason, that he couldn't explain, you could see right through him.

"Hm, yeah? Could've just woken me up, honey. You're my wife now, after all." Bruce grinned, a strong arm sneaking around your back and pressing you flush against his chest. Your cheeks were on fire. That word still flustered you to the high heavens, and you reckoned it would for a little while.

"It would've been a shame to wake you. You looked like you were crafted by the gods." You whispered softly, pressing your lips to his in a tender but hungry kiss. Bruce melted into you, his eyes fluttering shut as he lost himself in the feeling of his lips on yours, moving gracefully against each other. With heavy breaths, puffy lips and glazed eyes you severed your connection.

"The sun sitting on your cheekbones," your fingertips traced over his face in such a gentle manner, one could assume you were afraid of breaking his peacefulness.

"And on your lips," your thumb swiped over his bottom lip, which curled up into a smile.

"Down your neck... it would've been a crime to break such beauty."

Your hand settled on the back of his neck and gently kneaded his muscles.

"I'm flattered, though no beauty can ever match yours, my love. You will eternally be the universe's rose, blooming in all your glory no matter if the sun shines or not."

"You need to stop reading all those books Alfred recommends to you." You giggled, an obvious blush on your face.

"I don't think I will." He smirked before capturing your lips in a kiss again. It was desperate and full of passion, making you sigh softly against his mouth. His hands became needy, grabbing at the fat of your hips. Bruce trailed his kisses over your cheeks, to your jaw and down your neck, sucking and gently biting at your skin.

You moaned quietly, your body sinking into the sheets at the feeling of his lips against your skin. Grabbing at the hem of his white shirt, you swiftly pulled it over his head, revealing his mouth-watering physique to you. The hand that had been resting on his thigh up until this point now cupped the tent in his briefs, stroking gently but with a firm hand.

He groaned into your shoulder, squeezing you tighter.

"None of that, baby, look at me." You cooed softly, gripping the hair at the base of his skull and gently pulling him away from your neck. Your hand dipped into his underwear and gave his cock a few strokes before shoving his briefs down his thighs.

Never breaking eye contact, you licked a fat stripe over your palm, guiding your hand down to his dick and rubbing at the tip. His lips parted slightly and few throaty groans left him.

"J-Jesus Christ, sweetheart, your hands really are magic." He breathed out, his head tipping forward just a smidge as you found a steady pace with your hand wrapped around him.

"Only for you, always for you.." you whispered against his cheek, feeling his breathing speed up. His hands were digging into your hips by this point as you circled the tip of his cock with your thumb, his pre-cum and your spit slicking him perfectly.

When you ran your finger over the underside of his shaft, against the bulging vein, pretty moans spilled from his lips as he approached his high. But before he could float on that cloud of bliss, you retracted your hand and left him hanging on the edge. His eyes were hazy and filled with need and desperation as he let out a frustrated groan.

"You're gonna regret that, little minx." Bruce smirked, but there was a fire in his eyes that made the heat in your belly boil over.

"Will I?" You challenged with a wicked smile, making him chuckle before smashing your lips together and silencing any further comment you might've made.

He pushed you onto your back and quickly pulled your nightgown over your head before sliding your panties down your legs.

Bruce's hands were placed on your inner thighs, pushing your knees further apart. He groaned at the sight of your glistening cunt, pupils swallowing the brown of his irises whole. Your naked form isn't something he hadn't seen before, but his mind was foggy with emotions of all kinds; the golden sunlight that painted your skin, the way your hair fell into your face, and that sparkly diamond on your finger making his heart swell in his chest.

You were his, through and through, and he never doubted it, but to see that solid piece of evidence sitting so nicely on your ringfinger made something stir in him; something primal, almost.

His hands trailed to your waist, kneading your flesh, as he leaned forward to be closer to you.

"I'd eat you till morning, honey, but I need to be inside you." You could tell that he was trying to hide the urgency and need in his voice, blanketing it in a soft and loving tone.

"I need you inside. Please, my love." You begged needily, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him in until his dick was prodding at your entrance.

"Besides," you whispered when his head found its place in the crook of your neck,"you can always have me for breakfast later."

With an amused huff, he slowly pushed inside of you, filling you up delightfully.

"You'll be the death of me." Bruce groaned, intertwining your fingers on both hands and pressing his forehead to yours.

Your beautiful moans echoed softly in the bedroom when he started to slowly thrust his hips into yours.

The movement knocked the breath from your lungs every single time, your nerves tingling with a sizzling fire that crawled up your spine. He sped up his thrusts, moaning and groaning against your lips.

You pressed your hand against his chest to slow him down again.

"Slow, slow... wanna feel every part of you."

You could've sworn you heard the faintest whimper escape his throat, gripping your hands tighter has his cock dragged along your walls. You could feel every ridge and bump, your head lolling to the side in bliss.

With languid and deep thrusts, Bruce continued to bring the both of you to the edge of your ecstasy. As your moans got louder, you reached for the hand with his ring on it and gently placed it around your neck.

Your husband shifted his weight so he wouldn't fall on top of you, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. You placed your ringed hand on top of his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

You just wanted him to gently hold your throat, wanting to feel the cold metal against your burning skin.

"You won't hurt me, I promise. Jus' need you to hold me- fuck!" You cried out at a particularly deep thrust, squeezing your eyes shut and digging your nails into the back of Bruce's hand.

"Look at you. My pretty fucking wife. All mine. I made you mine, and everyone knows. They just need to look at that pretty diamond ring on your finger." His voice dropped an octave, and his words were almost a growl as he plunged in and out of you.

"You're s'good to me, honey. The perfect husband f'me." You moaned, your lips clumsily brushing against his as he panted on top of you.

"God, I love you." He grunted, his movement becoming sloppy as he was nearing his climax. You could feel the bliss gnawing at your limbs as well. Bruce trailed his hand between your bodies and circled your puffy clit, which only made you succumb to the pleasure faster.

"F-Fuck- oh my god, I'm so close!" You almost screeched, trying to ground yourself with him in any way you could.

"Come f'me, yeah?" He heaved, struggling to get the words out between his groans. Any more moans and cries were muffled as his lips greedily found yours, the tip of his cock hitting that spongy spot inside of you over and over again.

With a a strategic swipe over your clit and a well timed thrust, your orgasm crashed into you, jumbled 'I love you's falling from your lips as Bruce spilled inside of you with your name on his lips. The hand around your throat tightened only a little bit, prolonging your high that much longer as bliss clouded your brain.

Bruce gently lowered himself on top of you, steadying his breathing against your chest. You were catching your breath as well, tracing patterns on his bare back. He was still nestled deep inside of you. He rolled the two of you over so you were on top of him, your cheek pressed against his shoulder as you relaxed in his arms.

"I love you so much." You mumbled, eyes falling shut. You didn't know what time it was, but it didn't matter to you. You had nowhere to be except right here, snuggled against your husband.

"I love you too, sweetheart. Are you alright? D'you need anything?" he asked softly, pressing kisses to the top of your head.

"Hm, no. Jus' wanna stay like this. Maybe take a nap." You yawned, making Bruce chuckle.

"Do you need anything?" You questioned in return, placing a kiss to

his shoulder. "I could use a nap as well." He laughed softly, pulling the covers over the both of you.

"Good. Cus' I'm not getting up." You sighed, letting yourself be loved by him. His hands lazily ran through your hair, lulling you to sleep.

"Sweet dreams, baby." He whispered against your hairline, coaxing a sleepy smile onto your lips.

"You too, my love."

Both of you drifted off with the sun high up in the sky, not a care in the world that it was well past noon. Your hearts beating in sync, your soft breathing mimicking each other and connected deeper and closer as ever, the bonds of your love shinning in the dwindling sunlight with your hands intertwined.

If Bruce could make you wear his heart, he would, but for now the diamond ring would have to do.

You were his and he was yours. The perfect balance of love.

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《Taglist》: @certifiedredhoodlover @allysunny

Let me know if you want to be added! <3

[reyrapidsbutgayer]

Ranking All Shadow of the Erdtree Bosses and NPC's by Fuckability.

It's finally time. The sequel to the 2nd worst post I've ever made.

I 100%-ed the DLC and it was fantastic. Time to find out which new characters are the most fuckable.

In this hypothetical all of the bosses can be reasonably communicated with (if possible) and are not actively trying to kill you (Unless killing you makes it sexier).

Repeat bosses not included, duo bosses counted seperate. Bosses that already appeared in the Base game are not counted.

It should also be assumed that all of these bosses have access to their magic/items/resources to benefit them in bed.

Explanation of Grading system:

Ineligible: (Cannot give consent)

These characters are not sentient enough to communicate consent, or are physically incapable of sex.

Unfuckable: (Can give consent, but does not DESERVE sex)

Character sucks so badly that they do not deserve to experience pleasure in any shape or form.

Uninterested: (Can give consent, does not WANT sex)

These character are fully capable of sex but would never participate in sex due to lack of interest or overabundance of moral convictions.

Not worth it: (Can give consent, is terrible in bed)

I mean, you COULD have sex with these characters but why would you?

Acceptable: (Can give consent, would be fine in bed)

These characters are average in bed, nothing crazy or noticeable. Some might end up in this category because they ARE good at sex, but the entire process would be inconvenient or uncomfortable to initiate.

Good Time: (Can give consent, would be great in bed)

These characters are good at sex, give or take a few points depending on their mood or situation.

Knock your socks off: (Can give consent, would be amazing in bed)

These characters excel in giving pleasure and would be well worth the time and effort involved.

Sex God: (Can give consent, would be the best in bed)

These characters would be so good at sex that all other factors are irrelevant. They are serving and we are here for it.

Evil Sex God: (Can give consent, is a terrible person but you’d make an exception.)

These are characters that should fall lower in the rankings, but their sexual prowess supersedes their inherent awfulness to a noteworthy degree.

Full list below the read more. Obviously it's not going to be sfw.

Ineligible: (Cannot give consent)

Ralva the Great Red Bear:

Animal

Rugalea the Great Red Bear:

Animal

Ghostflame Dragon:

Undead, probably not capable of sex.

Golden Hippopotamus:

Animal

Swordhand of Night Anna:

She is a hot goth knight, but is a mind controlled puppet.

Unfuckable: (Can give consent, but does not DESERVE sex)

Promised Consort Radahn + Radahn Consort of Miquella:

Radahn is just a mind-controlled corpse, and Miquella is a little bitch, so they are both ineligible. Honestly who tries to become a god but also ditches their inner goth girl? St. Trina deserved better.

Scadutree Avatar:

Theoretically capable of sex, but is made of pure anger and thorns.

Fire Knight Salza:

War criminal, even by Elden Ring terms so you KNOW it's bad.

Jori, Elder Inquisitor:

Creepy torturer and hypocrite, thinks sex is a sin and I plan for him to die sinless.

Uninterested: (Can give consent, does not WANT sex)

Curseblade Labirith:

Too devoted to being a monk to care.

Midra Lord of Frenzied Flame:

He's going through a LOT right now. He just got dumped AND he is being tortured for eternity while also containing a god of madness in his body, just leave the poor man alone.

Blackgaol Knight:

In another life he'd fuck like semi truck, but as of right now he's taken a vow to be a wet blanket alone in a mausoleum.

Not worth it: (Can give consent, is terrible in bed)

Chief Bloodfiend:

Too goopy and covered in diseased blood, but is still up for it if you are.

Putrescent Knight:

On one hand it's melting skeleton made up of thousands of merged souls... but on the other hand if you managed to get the consent and each and every soul I bet you could PROBABLY do something.

Lamenter:

Throw him one pity fuck and then run, he's clingy and a whiner.

Death Knight:

Is mostly just a skeleton, and whatever flesh is still there is probably rotting... but he does have some rizz and cool wings... goth guys can still get it.

Acceptable: (Can give consent, would be fine in bed)

Black Knight Garrew:

A highly trained knight, probably has good stamina but is also a fanatic to a creepy cult.

Black Knight Edredd:

Is also a highly trained knight, probably has good stamina but is also a fanatic to a creepy cult... but he does know crucible incantations... he might have some weird animal stuff you can get him to use in bed.

Rakshasa:

She's covered in blood and is overflowing with bloodlust... but lust and bloodlust are in the same neighborhood if you know what to do.

Divine Beast Dancing Lion:

If those two guys in there aren't rotting corpses... Fucking two guys inside a scary lion costume is an above average Tuesday night.

Good Time: (Can give consent, would be great in bed)

Logur, the Beast Claw:

A nude man covered in blood is running at you on all fours... you are either about to die or have a WILD night.

Ancient Dragon Senessax:

A very average dragon, but all dragons have a baseline fuckability so she's up here.

Jagged Peak Drake:

Drakes are slightly less fuckable than dragons, but if you don't think I'd willing be double teamed by two dragons while Igon watches, you clearly don't know me.

Ancient Dragon-Man:

All the perks of dragon sex but in a much more portable package.

Demi-Human Swordmaster Onze:

Normally Demi-humans are more cute than sexy, but this guy dedicated his life to the blade, you should be helping him make up for lost time.

Count Ymir, Mother of Fingers:

He's a delusional asshole... but he smacks of gender™ in a very submissive and breedable manner. A man who wants to be a mother and has giant fleshy fingers growing out of his body? It will be uncomfortable and deeply personal... but you GOTTA try it at least once, the LGBTQ community is depending on you.

Knock your socks off: (Can give consent, would be amazing in bed)

Red Bear:

All the raw sex appeal of Logur but with 25% more daddy energy.

Moonrithyll, Carian Knight:

Listen we have all been sleeping on Moonrithyll when we should be sleeping WITH her. She is the chamberlain to Rellana (as in head bedroom attendant) which means she is an actual #girlboss and there must be insane wizard lesbian sex behind closed doors. Not only that but she is beloved by the trolls and can fight on equal terms with the carian troll knights, who are no doubt getting sucked and fucked by her nightly. She's just a normal human but she is blowing out the backs of demigods and giants alike. She is struggling to keep her head above water and that water is pussy.

Commander Gaius:

Ok so here me out: He is an asshole, and violent, and a fanatic who serves the very order that discriminates against him... but all you have to do is mention that Radahn is better in bed than him. With this one simple trick he will have you bent over the back of his boar making sure he won't be the only one who can't use their legs after. He is pure rage and he will not stop until he has make you cum more times than Radahn ever has. Trust me, this happened to me, video games are real.

Dancer of Ranah:

Infinite stamina, enough said.

Sex God: (Can give consent, would be the best in bed)

Rellana Twin Moon Knight:

I want you to imagine Rennala, a normal woman who was able to satisfy Radagon/Marika, the sluttiest possible duo in the entire history of the lands between. Now imagine Rennala at full power, no depression, no hanging out in her basement mourning her failed marriage... now imagine Rennala 18% more goth and holding two magic swords. She will fuck you into space and then fuck you back to planet earth. Now imagine being bisexual.

Messmer the Impaler + Base Serpent Messmer:

I have slowly grown to love this sad bishounen anime boy more and more as I learn about his pathetic little life. He seems all mean and firey, but he is a bottom. (and his snakes are not) I wanna make him squeal and then get him therapy and then for good measure make him squel again.

Romina, Saint of the Bud:

A sleeper hit, but she is a mean insect lady with a giant prehensile centipede tail. She is like a xenomorph queen but a pink pastel goth rather than a vampire goth. She will wrap you up in that giant tail of hers and get straight to the egg laying. If you haven't considered it before, then you will now.

Evil Sex God: (Can give consent, is a terrible person but you’d make an exception.)

Metyr, Mother of Fingers:

Look... you WILL die after doing this, but she has a giant stomach full of squirming wet fingers and she is basically a big pile of dicks. Get naked, jump into her gaping stomach and die happy. That's an order from your commanding officer, now do your duty and serve your country.

Bayle the Dread:

I hate this dragon, he is responsible for the steady decline in dragon sex appeal, he hurt my Igon, and I can't explain why but I feel like he is sexist somehow. BUT... a dragon is a dragon. If Igon asks me to double team this guy I legally can't say no.

BONUS: Ranking the new NPC's from worst to best in terms of fuckability:

#13: Fire Knight Queenlign:

Somehow, his haircut is more of a turn-off than the war crimes he committed in the name of a god who doesn't even know he exists, which is not a good sign.

#12: Hornsent Grandam:

Normally I would give GILFs a pass to live their life and fuck as little or as much as they want. But she is the type to slut shame other women and as a feminist I cannot stand idly by.

#11: Hornsent

In another life he'd be a decent lay. He had a wife and a child so he has had sex at least once. In a pinch I can forgive the blind self destructive quest for vengeance, but I draw the line as soiled loincloths. You're an adult Hornsent, so act like it.

#10: Moore

My sweet little pot boy... If it came to sex I'd like to imagine that he is attentive and gentle, with his armor clattering around the whole time because he is too scared to take it off entirely. But he is too sweet and you honestly don't deserve him. He needs to be romanced, swept off his feet by a loyal and supportive partner and let's face it, you aren't at a place in your life where you can be all that he needs.

#9: Thoiller

The pillow princess to end all pillow princesses. He is a simp, he's submissive, he's breedable, he's a sopping wet pathetic little meow meow. Tumblr, THIS is the man you keep saying you want, now get in there and impregnate this man as the prophecies foretold.

#8: St. Trina

She's a plant at this point and probably isn't up for sex. (And a disembodied essence of love from a corrupted demigod) But I KNOW for a fact you kept imbibing her nectar more than you needed to. She just likes to watch as you and Thoiller get high and flop around in the putrescences. Lore says St. Trina was a fully grown woman at some point, and not just a weird little plant person, so in her prime she probably had a weird sleepy plant orgy with her followers.

#7: Redmane Freyja:

On paper she is the tragic butch sword lesbian we need but don't deserve. A prisoner who earned her freedom and rank through brutal gladiatorial combat, a loyal knight to a fallen demigod, and a big buff lady who can step on you. But in practice she still sides with Leda after breaking free of the mind control, and lets Miquella control her lords body like a toy. Come on Freyja, where is your fire? Your rage? Suplex Leda and fuck your way across the lands between as did your forefathers.

#6: Swordhand of Night Jolan:

She's a mean goth girl with a tragic past and a desperate need to be loved. I could fix her.

#5: Sir Ansbach

He easily earned his place in the top 5. He's running from a tragic past, he is trying to be a better person, he has all the sex appeal of Varre' but actually bathes, and he is a GILF. In practice he probably isn't the BEST in bed, but he is rather romancable. He can still get it, since he was a highly trained warrior in the past, but I see myself cuddling him as he somberly adjusts his glasses and stares out the window. Don't get me wrong there is still a LOT of sweaty blood sex but he knows what he is doing and understands what soap is.

#4: Igon

He's a screamer. Broken legs, dirty armor, doesn't matter. The warriors code demands that we look into each other's eyes as we both cum. That is the only honorable way.

#3: Needle Knight Leda

She sucks. She willingly follows a loser wannabe god, and it's not even the mind control, she is just like that™ already. She is so bad at socializing with rational people who are already on her side that she jumps to murder without hesitation. She even killed all the first Needle Knights just cuz of her own paranoia. She should be at the bottom of this list... but a yandere is a yandere. It would be creepy, uncomfortable and she'd be very demanding and probably bite you in a very non-sexy way. But it would still be some of the best sex you'll ever have. You'd regret it just as much as you'd enjoy it, and you'd regret it for the rest of your life.

#2: Dragon Communion Priestess Florissax:

Lovelorn dragon lady who wants me to eat other dragons in a very sensual manner. I am not immune and neither are you.

#1: Dryleaf Dane

After that brush, he is distant. His training is cold and impersonal, he throws himself into his prayers, dedicating every waking moment to meditation. He sought to turn his flesh to iron, so why is the flesh so weak around you?

Hear me out. He's religious, he is dedicated to his cause, he tries to kill you, and he doesn't even say a word to you.

BUT.

Imagine what happens when you finally get him to break.

He is your master, teaching you in the dryleaf arts, the two of you sparring atop a waterfall and bruising your knuckles more and more with each strike. The two of you meditate together, seeking inner peace to further your warriors spirit. He is stoic, his heart closed off to you and his mind focused on his holy mission.

But he is temped, you can see it in his eyes, in the way he watches over you when you are hurt, the soft way his fist unclench after a battle, and the thick layer of sweat you share after sparring. Together you are hardening your bodies to become living weapons, but bodies are not only used for violence, and the two of you cannot ignore the tension that grows with each day, your bodies intertwining during a particularly heated duel, grappling turning slowly to wanton exploration. He comes to his senses right before it crosses the line and you see the fear in his eyes as he pulls away from you. But you wouldn't have stopped him and he knows it from the pleased expression on your face as you lie on your back, defeated.

When it finally happens, you are sparring, leaving nothing behind. You shed your armor to let the movements flow without hindrance and so does he, conflict apparent upon his face. You trade blow after blow, your bodies raw and sore but still you don't let up. The sun is setting and neither of you will relent, sweat coating every inch and the roar of the waterfall drowning out every thought that isn't dedicated to this battle.

He is getting sloppy, his eyes transfixed not on your fists but your face. A poorly placed sweep to your legs leaves him wide open and you go for the maneuver neither of you have attempted since the close encounter that frightened him so.

He struggles, pushing your arms and legs away fruitlessly as his exhaustion drains away his years of practice. Soon you are pinning him to the wet ground on the riverbed, his hair wild and his hat flung far out of arms reach. He looks like a cornered animal in your grasp, eyes bulging and his breathing haggard. You can only look down upon your former master with a gleeful hunger, his body already more familiar to you than your own.

In a moment of understanding you see the hesitation drain from eyes. He knows what he wants, and he is done denying it. You grab his face roughly and kiss him more violently than any punch you have thrown. He returns in kind and all the exhaustion seems to leave his body as he sits up and wraps both arms around you firmly, desperate to make up for lost time, his holy mission only to worship your body and the unbreakable bond you have forged in sweat and blood.

And then you bone.

We have all imagined that exact scenario, haven't we? I have yet to meet a Fromsoft fan who hasn't described that fantasy to me word for word without hesitation. I am just saying what we were all thinking.

(Pictured: a man I would fuck until he renounces his god.)