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queercapwriting · 2 years

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If Not Forever, Then Tonight (Ch. 2)

I wasn’t planning to write a multi-chapter smut. I really wasn’t. But these two just have a lot of feelings, and I just have a lot of feelings, so here we are.

Ch. 1

In all her years, all her lifetimes – more than she will ever know, if the TARDIS does her job right and protects her from the fob watch and protects the fob watch from her – in all her lifetimes, she’s been surrounded by so, so, so much death.

People who had died by her hand, people she was too late to save, or – the worst of all – people who forged their bodies into weapons, who died for her because her existence in their orbit had convinced them that their lives would be worth more if they ended them as a bomb. To spare the Doctor. To spare her from killing. To spare her from dying. To spare her from the choices she manipulated people into making for her.

From all those years, all those lifetimes, Yaz’s words right now are reminding her of Christmas.

Of a Christmas when bowties were cool, and two small children had a dead father, and the Doctor hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell them. Not yet, not quiet. Because they deserved to be happy, now. Precisely because they were going to be sad later.

And if she and Yaz are going to be sad later…

“If we’re not going to have forever, can’t we more fully have the present?” Yaz is saying. Her eyes are wide and her eyebrows furrowed, like she’s convincing herself that she’s not a bad, selfish person for asking it, for thinking it at all. Oh. Yasmin Khan could never be a bad, selfish person. “I’ll shut up about it right now if you tell me to, but if we’re going to spend the rest of our lives mourning each other, can’t we at least have toni—”

It's not something she planned to do. It’s not something she calculated out and tried to track all the variables for.

But she has lost… everything. Who knows how many times over.

And Yaz is right, just as the Doctor herself was right all those centuries ago.

If they’re going to be sad later…

She doesn’t think. Something just snaps in her, and she moves.

Her hands are on Yaz’s cheeks, her fingertips in her long hair. So that’s what it feels like. Perfect. Of course, it feels perfect.

As does the thrum of a pulse – alive, alive, alive – in Yaz’s temples.

As do Yaz’s lips.

Gods, Yaz’s lips.

The Doctor’s tongue – every fiber of her being, really – is so much more sensitive than a human’s. It’s one of the endless reasons she doesn’t do this, much. The stimulation, the overload.

But to be overstimulated with the taste of Yasmin Khan?

She’ll have regrets in the future. When it’s time to be hurt.

But right now, her only regret is not having done this sooner.

Because she can taste Yaz’s love on her lips, her tenderness, her fire, her devotion. Her want. Literally taste it, along with how often and how well she brushes her teeth – 10/10, Yaz obviously mirrors Graham’s old devotion to portable sandwiches with a devotion to a portable tooth care kit – and everything she’s eaten and drank for the last two… no, three weeks.

Different times and different places and different planets, all coated in everything Yaz.

None of those planets, none of those times, none of those foods or drinks or scents, will ever be the same for the Doctor again. Not now that she’s catalogued them on Yaz’s lips.

Yaz, who moans softly when the Doctor’s tongue runs over her bottom lip. The Doctor feels a low rumble in her own throat, a call and response that they’ve been having for years now – just not quite like this.

The rumble in her throat gets deeper when Yaz’s hands find the Doctor’s waist over her coat. Yaz whines, just slightly, pulling her hands away from the Doctor’s body. Her hearts sink and hatred starts to pour down on herself. She moves to stop, because obviously Yaz wouldn’t want this, it wasn’t fair of the Doctor, she’d already told Yaz no, this was leading her on, this was wrong, this was right but it was wrong and of course Yaz wants to stop –

But Yaz’s tongue meets the Doctor’s, then, deepening their kiss as she solves the problem that had led her to pull her hands away. Apparently having her hands on top of the Doctor’s coat wasn’t close enough for Yaz. And as she slips them inside her coat, grazing her suspenders and her shirt, she is so much closer to the Doctor’s skin and so much warmer and just so much, that the Doctor definitely agrees – being touched over her coat wasn’t close enough.

Soon, touching over their clothes won’t be close enough, either. But that’s got to be Yaz’s decision. All of this has to be Yaz’s decision.

Which is what makes the Doctor pull back, just slightly, just enough to look into Yaz’s perfect brown eyes, somehow glazed over and sparkling at the same time. Yaz’s fingers clench, just briefly, just slightly, at the sides of her t-shirt. As if she’s afraid the Doctor will pull away completely, but has reminded herself that it’s the Doctor’s choice is she wants to do that.

Gods, they’re similar. Too similar.

“All right?” Yaz asks, breathless, because the Doctor’s brain is buzzing too fast to make words. Her hands are still framing Yaz’s face, and her entire body still vibrating with Yaz’s increased heart rate, the powerful pulse in her temples, the raw aliveness of the woman in her arms, looking up at her with slightly swollen, slightly parted lips.

“Yes,” the Doctor says. She doesn’t remember her voice sounding quite so gravely, but then, she hasn’t done this in a while. And never in this body. “And you? Yaz, maybe I shouldn’t have – I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t –”

“Doctor.” Both of them glance down to watch Yaz’s index finger, slowly tracing up the underside of one of her suspenders, while her other hand stays on the Doctor’s waistline. The back of Yaz’s finger brushes the Doctor’s chest. She’s not sure which of them gasp first. The breath was likely simultaneous.

When she finds the courage to look back into Yaz’s eyes – courage, yes, this is all about the courage to do it anyway – Yaz is already looking at her face. Like she is categorizing, memorizing, absorbing every single reaction the Doctor is having to her touch. Which is exactly what the Doctor is doing, for Yaz.

The corners of Yaz’s lips tilt up, just slightly, joyfulness and play and adoration evident on her face even while her eyes are strongly suggesting more. More about what they can do, what they will do. If they both have enough courage.

“You said you can’t. And now we’re…” Yaz’s index finger – the one that had hesitated when it brushed past the Doctor’s chest – now traces her jawline, her thumb coming to swipe gently across the Doctor’s lower lip. “Doing this. And I’m good with it. I’m good. I promise. But are you? Good with it. I don’t want you to feel like you have to follow through just because you started it.”

“Yasmin Khan,” the Doctor says. She’s aiming for suave and maybe even sultry, but on hearing her own voice, she thinks she might have landed on tender and an attempt at confidence. But she’s not sure – she’s definitely both nervous and socially awkward. “When have you known me to start things I don’t intend to finish?”

Yaz raises her eyebrows and looks off to the side, her eyes suddenly laughing like she’s about to launch into the list of half-baked plans the Doctor had to abandon midway through.

“Alright, fine,” the Doctor huffs. “But I’m telling you, Yaz. If you’re sure. If you understand that this can’t last, that my life isn’t made for this, but that, yes, you’re not wrong – we can have right now, just right now… if you’re sure, then I –”

It’s not the Doctor who leans in this time. This time, it’s Yaz who swallows the Doctor’s words with her kiss, with her breath, and oh, they really should have done this years ago.

Because kissing Yasmin Khan and having her kiss her back was miraculous. But having Yaz be the one to pull the Doctor close and kiss her like their lives depend on sharing the same breaths – and maybe, just now, they do – oh, that is ethereal.

She hears the TARDIS humming her approval and feels the ship, her home, their home, pulsing the lights gently and bathing them both in a soft yellow glow.

Yaz’s fingers trace gently along the shell of the Doctor’s ear, along her earring, to tangle gently into her hair. Her other hand tugs – slightly, so slightly – up on the Doctor’s shirt, untucking it along her side, only just.

“May I?” she breathes into the Doctor’s mouth.

The Doctor tries to nod, and it knocks their foreheads together.

They both breathe out a laugh until Yaz’s pinky finds the Doctor’s skin, and then they both gasp.

The Doctor’s entire center of gravity splits and shifts – one, to her mouth where her lips are worshipping Yaz’s. And two, to the point along her side where Yaz has tugged up the Doctor’s shirt enough for her pinky finger to touch the Doctor’s bare skin – always hidden by her coat, her shirt, her ridiculous armor against being seen as too human, too vulnerable to exactly this kind of love.

She can feel the grooves of Yaz’s fingerprint, a small scar running diagonally through it, maybe eight, no, twelve years old, small but deep. An accident in the kitchen, maybe. It makes for beautiful friction amidst the soft whorls and patterns of the rest of the pad of her finger, gorgeous and subtle and barely there but vibrating friction against the Doctor’s skin.

She can feel how Yaz is shaking, ever so slightly, and how – as her fourth finger joins her pinky on the Doctor’s skin and they both gasp again – Yaz’s pulse is so fast but so calm, so much less wild than the Doctor’s, and so utterly perfect.

She wants to bring Yaz’s pinky to her lips and kiss it, kiss the place where the scar is – it’s probably barely visible, now, even though the Doctor can so clearly feel it, all her senses so heightened, so constant, so thoroughly filled with Yaz.

But if she does that, Yaz won’t be touching her side anymore and she doesn’t think her body would be able to bear it. There will time for it later – for her to worship every inch of Yasmin Khan’s skin – but for now, she sighs into Yaz’s mouth and lets her back them up against the TARDIS wall.

“This okay?” Yaz murmurs. The Doctor answers by biting softly at her lower lip. She immediately decides she should do it more often if that’s the sound Yaz is going to make in response. If she’s going to tug at her hair like that to pull her down for a deeper kiss, if she’s going to slip more of her hand under the Doctor’s barely untucked shirt like that, her palm now flush against the Doctor’s bare skin – no one has ever touched this skin, this body, until this moment, this breath – if she’s going to pull their bodies closer together like that.

The Doctor always has Yasmin Khan floating in the edges – and the front, very much the front – of her mind. The things she can show her, the things she can do with her, share with her. But this… this kind of showing, of doing, of sharing… this isn’t something that passes through her mind a lot. Not only because it can’t, because this can’t, because they shouldn’t, because her time is… But also because, it’s just not where her mind tends to go. It’s not the first thing her mind tends to want.

But her mind, her body, her hearts, everything, feels close to going supernova from the way Yaz is kissing her, touching her, pressing her against the back wall of the TARDIS. It snaps something in her, just like it did the moment before she kissed Yaz to begin with.

A small growl that she most definitely doesn’t intend to happen makes its way from the back of her throat and into Yaz’s lips. She can feel, taste, everything that sound does to Yaz’s body, to her nerve endings, to her cells, her bloodstream. She can taste all of it, and she wants more.

The Doctor moves before she thinks, turning them both around so that Yaz is the one with her back pressed against the TARDIS wall. In the same motion, she brings her hand around to the back of Yaz’s head, so that it’s the Doctor’s hand that thuds against the wall. She forms a pillow for Yaz’s head with her hand while she presses the rest of her body to the wall. When Yaz gasps at the suddenness, the Doctor finds that growl rising up again in her.

She tilts Yaz’s head back slightly, kissing the beautiful line of her jaw, angling her hand to continue to make sure nothing will hurt, to make sure no hard, cold surfaces will hurt her.

Yaz’s pulse, from just the one heart, leaps in her throat, under the Doctor’s lips.

Her pulse, so strong and so fragile. So powerful and so, so temporary.

She’s already putting Yaz in grave emotional danger with this… night that she’s allowing. Yes, they’ll be sad later so they might as well be happy now. But won’t it be worse to know what it could be, to feel this, to feel Yaz’s lips against hers, Yaz’s body underneath hers, and then to not have her at all? Won’t that be worse?

They’ve both chosen, tonight, the definition of stupidity. Fine. And with the Doctor’s body on fire and both of her hearts glowing with the look in Yaz’s eyes, she can’t regret it. Not yet.

But if she’s going to be putting Yaz’s emotional safety at risk, she’ll be damned if she’s going to let any physical harm come to her. Especially not with the way the Doctor’s hands are shaking with want, with the barely restrained desire to just… take. And give, and give, and give, and take.

If they’re going to do this – and it’s apparent that they’re going to do this, unless Yaz changes her mind – she needs to pillow Yaz’s entire body in something soft. If the Doctor’s restraint slips for a moment, at least Yaz will be surrounded only by pillows and blankets, not the hard surfaces of the control room.

“Bed,” the Doctor husks before she can reason herself out of it.

Chapter 3

#thasmin #thasmin fic #thasmin fanfic #thasmin smut #this was really not what i set out to do but um #oops?#my fingers slipped?

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seasideoranges · 1 month

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Mama's boy. twitter // ko-fi

#i was doing so good while drawing this #then slipping through my fingers came on my playlist #had to lay down for ten minutes after that #sokka #atla sokka #kya #atla kya #atla #avatar the last airbender

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picory · 3 months

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not his little girl anymore

#*slipping through my fingers by abba starts playing*#ace attorney #phoenix wright #trucy wright #turnaboutart #i didn't feel like drawing his stupid slippers today

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amandaherzman · 8 months

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This month's herbologist reward is the dandelion! These plants have fortitude, and have followed us irrepressibly all over the globe. They are fascinating, sometimes overlooked but full of interesting folklore and facts! If you like these prints (and more) please consider joining my patreon!

Also, as everyone knows - times have been real tough. I don't want to go into it too deeply, but my patreon has been steadily shrinking all year (understandably) and my costs to run it have risen at least three times. If you're able to share or promote my work, to anyone who you'd think like it, to your followers, to your friends, thank you. It's been a really intense year, and I don't want to be doom and gloom just yet, but things are tough. Thank you to everyone who has supported my work, monetarily, or not. You are the best and the reason I keep creating 💖

#botanical art #dandelion #witch aesthetic #cottageblr #plantlore #dark academia #sorry for the emo #just ...the last year i have worked the hardest i have ever worked #and i still feel it slipping through my fingers #life be a lot #but i hope i can get to still share my joy through art this way

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kkelsey--spring · 4 months

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seeing yourself in someone else

#kkelseysart #fanart #lightning mcqueen #mcqueen #cars fandom #character #clipstudiopaint #lightning mcqueen fanart #illustration #artist #doc hudson #hudson hornet #father and son moment #slipping through my fingers by abba playing in the background

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markiecake · 2 months

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warnings/ tags: big dick jisung, size kink !!, dubcon (?), 'too big', ji is so pussy drunk, creampie (as always)

note: this is saur short omg but i just wanted to get something out of my drafts and out for y'all (°ロ°)

jisung not understanding how much bigger he actually is than you and not giving you any time to adjust to the size of his cock when it's your first time with him :((((((

your cries and whines of how it hurts and how he's too big falling flat as he literally cannot hear you with how into it he is D: the feeling of you wrapped around him so tightly making his brain short circuit.

light whimpers of 'ji, ji, ji!' slipping past your lips and your eyes screw shut trying to get past the pain 😵‍💫

you weakly scratch and paw at his chest, leaving red scratch marks all over him, trying to get him out of the trance he's in, but it's no use as he continues to use ur tight cunt until he cums inside of you !!!!

when he finally snaps out of it and looks down at your tear stained face, apologies spew out of his mouth while he strokes your hair and places sweet kisses all over ur cheeks and forehead, trying to make you feel better `(*>﹏<*)′

#♡ ria rants #ria is thinking #she is thinking hard #my sungie #just thinking about him #and his big hands #and his big ****#WHOOPS my finger slipped #park jisung #park jisung smut #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct dream hard hours #nct drabbles #nct smut

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citrustan · 5 months

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slipping through my fingers [prologue] (myg)

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: dilf!yoongi, exes and co-parents au, angst, fluff, smut summary: you've always thought you had it way too easy. all of a sudden, your life seems to be taking a few unexpected turns. it's time your luck ran out. word count: 1.4k warnings: none, you're all good > : )

The soft whirring sound of the radiator echoed through your cozy apartment.

It’s homey and comforting to hear the constant hum in the background. Sometimes, you’d leave the window open for the cold air to enter your space just so you had an excuse to use your radiator.

Still, you ought to get that fixed up before your ex-boyfriend lectures you about getting a new one already.

It was one of those days when time seemed to have slowed down. As you folded your daughter’s fresh laundry, you went over your tasks for the day.

You were in no hurry because for once, you had everything together.

The living room bathed in the sun’s golden hue.

Your daughter sat on her favourite spongy floor mat, completely absorbed in creating her new art piece. Her fingers were covered in pink, purple and white paint.

Momentarily pausing, you take note of what type of paint she used.

Acrylic.

You sigh. That would be a pain to clean off.

After putting away the laundered clothes, you remind your daughter to get into the bath.

You stood in front of her with your hand on your hips, “Nao, do you want mommy to run you a warm bath or would you rather shower?”

She simply hums.

“Mommy needs to shower too. You better get in there…” You walk away after adding, “Before I do.”

At that, Naomi instantaneously stops and rushes into the bath.

Naomi was a lot like you. She hated using wet bathrooms, as do you. But motherhood had changed you. Now, you’d do just about anything for your daughter.

As if you just remembered, you yelp, “Hold on! Let me clean the paint off of you first.”

You didn’t want your pristine white bathroom tiles to stain.

After bathing and dressing your daughter in a sage green cotton dress that you stitched yourself, you decide to let her watch TV even though it isn’t time for that just yet.

“Is daddy coming to get me today?” Naomi’s enthusiastic voice stopped you. It’s a bittersweet moment for you. On one hand, you’re happy that your daughter’s happy, on the other, you’re reminded that Yoongi and you aren’t together anymore.

“Of course, he is. It’s Friday!” You match her tone. She perks up and resumes watching the Barbie movie you put on for her.

Naomi would be distracted for a good thirty minutes now.

That does not leave you a lot of time for your ‘everything’ shower, but you were aiming high either way.

While in the shower, you let your thoughts wander to Yoongi.

He suggested you have dinner together because he had a few things to discuss with you.

You don’t think too much of it. It’s probably something about his upcoming business trip. You’ve got everything covered either way.

Your breakup was… inevitable. It wasn’t mutual at first, but you knew it’s where you were headed to.

After five years of dating, while simultaneously parenting Naomi, you wanted to get married. Yoongi didn’t.

You yearned for the validation and commitment of marriage, while Yoongi held steadfast to his belief against it. He refused to confine himself to a traditional marriage.

When you opened up to him about your insecurities about him leaving you for someone else, he grappled to reassure and console you. It worked for about a month.

Your differences, once manageable, had now grown into impossible divides, creating a rift that stretched beyond mere disagreement.

Self-doubt and a lack of validation destroyed your relationship.

The water had almost run cold by the time you finished your shower routine.

You pick out a sage green dress for yourself, similar to Naomi’s, just longer.

In no hurry, you moisturize and blow-dry your hair.

Even though you’re broken up, you still try to dress up for him. You don’t know why.

Apart from some lingering stares, there hasn’t been any sign of a reconciliation since you broke up. Yet, you always try to look good for him.

Although, that’s just who you are. You’d dress up for anyone. But, it’s still different with Yoongi. You especially enjoy his compliments.

The doorbell rang, forcing you to hurry and spritz on the first perfume bottle you touch.

“Don’t open the door! You don’t know who it is!” You warn Naomi, but to no avail.

He’s early today.

Naomi races you to the door, “It’s daddy!” You let her win. You rush to tidy up the living room as you walk to the door.

“You’re so early!” Your daughter clings to his leg. Yoongi laughs and drags his foot in.

“How are my girls feeling?” He smirks at you. “A little troubled now that you’re here.” You bicker.

Yoongi vocalizes a groan, “Why’s mommy so mean to daddy?” He directs it to Naomi.

You smile and wait by the coat hanger stand to receive his jacket.

The apartment feels a little livelier every time he stops by.

“Why are you here so soon? I haven’t even begun cooking yet.” You walk into your kitchen to quickly gather ingredients to prepare a fresh pasta dough.

“No reason.” Yoongi cleared his throat, “Let me help you cook.” You gladly accept his help.

You assign both Nao and Yoongi to make the sauce and the salad.

Soon, your kitchen was filled with the clatter of pots and pans and laughter.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

After dinner, Naomi spends time watching TV and working on her masterpiece.

In the serene quiet of your kitchen, the clinking of dishes echoed softly as you and Yoongi worked in unison, a familiar rhythm of cleaning up after a shared meal.

The warmth of the evening meal lingered; the comforting ambiance contrasted with the weight of the impending conversation.

Yoongi sighed for the fifth time that evening before you finally asked him, “What is it you wanted to talk about? Is everything okay?”

As you wiped a bowl dry, you stole a glance at Yoongi, noticing the hint of unease in his demeanour. Your heart fluttered with a sense of foreboding, sensing something amiss.

Yoongi paused for a moment; his hands still submerged in soapy water. "I... I have something I need to tell you."

You laughed uneasily, “I know. Spit it out already. You’re worrying me.”

The air around you felt heavier.

You set down the dishcloth, turning to face him, a sense of apprehension settling in.

Yoongi stared back into your eyes.

"I... I'm getting engaged," Yoongi finally uttered, his words hanging heavily in the air.

WHAT?

The world seemed to pause for a moment as you tried to process his words.

Your chest tightened, emotions swirling within you—a mix of surprise, disbelief, and an (un)expected pang of sorrow.

You searched his eyes for reassurance, for any sign of hesitation or doubt.

"Engaged?" Your voice was barely a whisper.

You’re hoping he misspoke. Maybe he’s getting engraved or encased or embraced.

Yoongi nodded, his expression a blend of remorse and an unspoken plea for understanding. "It's been on my mind for a while."

“Has it, now?” You scoffed.

WOW, really?

You didn’t even know he was seeing someone like that.

Even though you’re broken up, you feel cheated on in some way.

“I don’t know what to say.” You deadpan.

Your conversation was interrupted by the distant sound of Naomi's laughter, a stark reminder of the delicate balance you maintained for your daughter's sake.

"I wanted you to know first," Yoongi added softly, his eyes a mosaic of regret and an unspoken apology. One that you don’t want to acknowledge or accept.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you look down at your floral dishcloth.

You have a lot of questions but you don’t really want answers to all of them.

Yoongi feels ashamed of himself. But he knew he’d have to have this conversation with you someday. The sooner the better. He thoroughly beat himself up for this too.

You excused yourself promptly, “I’ll check on Nao.” Yoongi simply nodded.

Alone in the quiet of the short hallway that connects the kitchen to your living room, you leaned against the wall. A mix of emotions threatened to overwhelm you. You took a deep breath, bracing yourself against the ache in your chest.

₊˚.🎧 ✩｡ in my dreams by red velvet ₊˚.🎧 ✩｡

note: this is a self-indulgent drabble series i'm writing, nothing is planned and i'll just write as i go

i hope u guys enjoy it!

find the series masterlist here.

#fic: slipping through my fingers #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #yoongi smut #yoongi x oc #yoongi fanfic #bts angst #bts x reader #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader #suga fic #suga angst #min yoongi smut #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x oc #dilf yoongi

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indecisivetomato · 10 months

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Oh, your magic trick went wrong? Don't you worry, pretend it was intentional. Fail successfully.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #anthony j crowley #my art tag #yes the coin slipped through his fingers

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sorcerous-caress · 4 months

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"Do you think we are soulmates in every universe?"

Wyll: I hope so, that our hearts somehow found a way to reunite in every untold story. That our love was enough to overcome all life could throw our way.

Minthara: I am afraid not. My trust in you was hard earned, not a fragile gift of fate. The circumstances of our meeting are hard to replicate, and I fear the person I'd be to you under any other sun.

Halsin: nature always finds a way, I believe even as a pair of birds we would've been destined to nest together. Our harmony is woven into our souls, we must be fated in each life.

Shadowheart: do you want it to? To be with me in every universe?...I do not know but I'm truly lucky to be in this one. I pray that the others weren't lost to the darkness.

Karlach: every universe? Even the one where I'm a bottle of ketchup? Fuck yeah, you'd be my fries. The other Karlachs better appreciate your company and their working hearts.

Lae'zel: there are too many possibilities, it's impossible to give a single answer...and yet I can't imagine a world where you're not by my side.

Astarion: darling please, you know there probably aren't many universes where we get kidnapped by mindflayers? Still...there probably aren't many ones where you're dating a vampire either. Aren't you just so lucky to be here?

Gale: it's safe to assume I'd be sane enough to eventually stumble my way into your embrace, one way or another. But could the same be said for you? Would you still take me as I am in every universe?

#♡several characters #Sol would probably say something like #“No. I'm happy to be in this one. it's pitiful how easily you could've slipped away from my fingers #♡Gale #♡Astarion #♡Minthara #♡Halsin #♡shart #♡Wyll #♡Karlach #♡Laezel #bg3 x reader

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doobean · 7 months

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FAMILY AFFAIRS - ISAGI YOICHI

synopsis: You've got everything in life. A happy marriage with the love of your life, a new job, and you have enough savings to buy a new house! Luckily enough, your kind stepbrother offers to come with you to the open house tour while your husband is busy and away. Nothing can go possibly wrong, right?

contents: explicit content, afab!fem!reader, stepbro!isagi, reader is married to sae, reader also wears a dress hehe, cheating, manipulation, dub-con, step cest, isagi is jealous and is a bully, kinda borderline yandere!isagi, hickeys, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, creampies, pet names/name-calling, dumbification, doggy/missionary/mating press, ass slapping, dacryphilia, light choking, having sex while on a phone call (oral), mirror sex, mdni word count: 3.9K a/n: part 1 of my kinktober event! idk probably the filthiest thing I've ever written in my life idk what to make of it but enjoy (im sorry sae whoops) and i swear im a good girl

Compared to how most remarriages go, you have to say that your family is part of the lucky ones.

It happened back in high school, where all the weird emotions and hormones of a teenager are at its high but, surprisingly, your stepbrother and stepfather were extremely easy-going people. And they still are. Your stepfather treats your mom with utmost care and grace, something you haven't seen in a while since your biological father stepped out of your life.

Your stepbrother, now a pro football player, is almost a carbon copy. Growing up, Isagi has always been willing to help out around the house, staying up to help you study for exams throughout undergrad and, even now, he's offering to come with you to do something that'll take up half of his off day.

"Hey," You shut your phone after sending a brief message to your husband as Isagi hops into the driver’s seat, hair slightly damp and wearing an oversized hoodie with a pair of sweats as he had just gotten out of the shower. "Thanks for coming with me, you didn’t have to."

Your stepbrother shrugs his shoulders in response as he adjusts the side and rearview mirrors before starting the ignition. "I’ve got nothing going on today. Besides," Isagi eyes you playfully and pinches your exposed thighs between your dress leg slits. "Who knows what might happen if I let you go off by yourself?"

You return the favor with a light slap over his head, earning a loud yelp from the male. "It’s just an open house tour, not like I’m going off to war."

He scoffs cheekily, fixing his hair. "Yeah, but the realtor could be a serial killer or worse—" Isagi leans towards you and lowers his voice. "—an undercover clown."

You shrink, back pressing against the car door, and laugh. "The only undercover clown I see here is you.”

"You’re so lame." Isagi huffs before stepping on the gas pedal.

After a quick game of rock, paper, and scissors over who gets possession of the aux, he begrudgingly accepts defeat and allows you to play everything but country. When he manages to get on the highway, he speaks again, turning down the music volume just slightly. "What’s Sae up to these days? I hardly see him come to our family functions anymore."

You stop humming to the current song and break your gaze from the window. There's a small frown that forms, without you realizing it, and you bite your lips. "You know how his schedule usually is. Campaigns and interviews got him busier nowadays. But he should be landing home later."

"Later today?" Isagi quirks a brow.

You nod, shifting in your seat. "Mhm, he said he’ll call me once the flight lands. Why?"

There’s a long pause before Isagi answers, shrugging his shoulders, and turns at the exit. "No reason."

The drive there is relatively smooth. You guys pass the time with quick snippets of what's going on in your lives since Isagi had just returned overseas from a match and, despite not really knowing the ins and outs of football that much, you're still willing to listen to whatever he's rambling on about. It's one of the small things that you adore about Isagi, he's shamelessly passionate about his career, and oddly enough, the conversation gives you a burst of energy.

You shoot back with your own life updates, though a bit more mild and mundane to his travels and exciting goals. You briefly mention a new job promotion, your closest friends announcing their pregnancy, Sae's new ad campaigns, and all the other houses you've toured within the past three months. The current house you're viewing today seems promising and within Sae's expected pay range.

From what you've seen online, it's a three-story house built near the edge of a hill with an attached infinity pool, a masterchef-styled kitchen, and a private built-in gym. You don't really need all of that, but who are you to deny your husband's generosity?

Isagi lets out a long whistle when he pulls up next to the realtor's car on the long, winding driveway. "You're seriously gonna be living here?" He seems to be in disbelief at the size and so are you. It's a lot bigger in person than what the pictures offer.

"Maybe," You hop out of the car, brushing off any sort of dust collecting to your dress, and adjust your purse straps. "Hopefully, this will be the one."

While you didn’t think the realtor would be a creep, Isagi wasn’t wrong when he suggested tagging along. Upon entering the house, the realtor immediately makes an unwarranted comment about your figure, commenting on how nicely the dress hugs your body before offering his hand. Isagi intercepts smoothly by introducing himself as your boyfriend, which honestly came out of left field, but at least the realtor backed off for the remainder of the tour. After an hour of showcasing, the agent hands his business card to Isagi and nearly stumbles over his feet when leaving the property.

"Is he gone?"

Isagi pulls one of the curtains aside and nods. "Yeah, his car isn’t in the driveway anymore."

"Ugh, it’s a shame but at least the place is nice." You briefly snap a couple of photos of the living room and kitchen. "I think we might put in an offer by the end of the week."

"It's not too far from my place either," Isagi adds. He wanders around the kitchen some more, pulling the cabinet drawers open and playing with the faucets carefree now that the agent is out of sight. "Think I could crash here sometime?" He jokes.

"As much as I love having your annoying ass around, I think not." You giggle when a cute pout forms on his lips. "Okay, maybe like once a month." It's hard to say no to your stepbrother sometimes.

You meet up with him in the kitchen, hands gently gliding across the marble kitchen countertop and stopping when Isagi manages to pull out an unopened champagne bottle from the fridge. He waves it around for a bit before signaling at the glasses in the cupboards.

Isagi bites his lips thoughtfully. "You wanna?"

Why not? It's been quite the ride to get here and you like to think of this as an early celebration. You pull out two glasses and eagerly watch as Isagi opens the bottle. He fumbles a bit with the top and a good amount of the liquid starts spilling out, dripping over the countertop and onto the floor.

"Shit, wait let me clean that up—" He rushes to grab a nearby towel though you beat him to it with your own pair of napkins from your purse.

"It's okay, I've got it, Yoichi." You start to bend down but he grabs a hold of your wrist, forcing you back up.

"No," His tone is firm and you could've sworn there's something fleeting that flashes across his eyes for a moment. "Let me take care of it."

And for whatever reason, you let him. "Alright..."

Isagi takes his time cleaning up the spill. He's careful like that, maybe because he knows you're insistent on buying this property. Knowing him, he wants to make sure everything is perfect.

His hands stop when it reaches your shoes and you feel your breath catching in your throat. The sight of him on his knees triggers a reaction you can't quite understand. You shove the thoughts away and cough loud enough once you notice him hesitating.

"Is there something wrong?" Your voice comes out faint, almost breathy.

"It got on your dress," Isagi states casually, lifting his head to meet your confused gaze. "Mind if I get that for you?" He whispers the last part as if there's a hidden intention behind his words.

You're not sure if your dress got wet. You're positive that nothing spilled on it. But, according to your kinder-spirited stepbrother, there are a few spots and you suppose it'll be bad to leave it unattended.

"Sure," You answer on instinct.

"That's good," Isagi begins dabbing the cloth gently against the fabric, slowly making his way up until he's hovering over your pelvis.

You have no idea why you're starting to feel yourself burn all over the place. It feels like Isagi is taking mental pictures of your figure, storing them all in his head as you feel his eyes trace your skin. Goosebumps start trailing down your arms and you shift your legs together. "Yoichi—"

Isagi stops his motions and tips his head down, letting his bangs fall over his eyes. He lets the towel fall to the floor and you twitch when you begin to feel his callous palms hiking all the way up your legs. It's strangely hypnotic, watching your stepbrother do this and you're not sure why you're allowing it to happen. Everything begins to feel hazy, surreal, and wrong.

Your gut twists on itself inside out when his fingers toy with the waistband of your panties. Surely, there are some champagne spills there? Right? Maybe that's why you feel comfortable spreading your legs for him to clean it up. The two of you silently exchange dazed glances when you guide his hands, brushing the panties to the side of your legs as your heat gains exposure to the air.

"Gotta clean this one too," He rasps out. And you take a deep, shuddering breath when Isagi's lips latch onto your folds, wasting no time with his tongue. You feel like your heart is going to pound out of your chest.

A thousand questions flood through your mind. Has he always viewed you this way? How are you going to present this to Sae? Should you even say anything to your husband at this point? They're the wrong questions to be focusing on, you know that better than anyone. In a split second, your healthy relationship with Isagi has opened so many cracks around its edges that it's now something completely irreparable.

And you're ashamed of just how goddamn good this feels.

"You're so sweet down here." Isagi's eyes are half-lidded when he looks up at you, already seemingly drunk off of you.

Your eyes threaten to flutter shut as his tongue traces around, larping up your intoxicating slick. Isagi lets out a low groan when your fingers run through his hair, gripping it just slightly forward enough to allow his nose to brush against your aching nerve.

All of this comes crashing down when a familiar ringtone goes off. You nearly jump at the rapid vibrations from your purse and hastily fish out your phone, heart dropping at the contact that's on the screen.

"Pick it up, I'll be quiet." The way that easily comes out of his mouth makes you want to throw up.

You swallow back a moan and clench the phone tight in your hands. "Yoichi, I'm being serious...! If he finds out we're both dead!"

"Then make me."

His hot breath hovers over your clit as he looks up, masking his ill intentions behind his seemingly big, innocent eyes. Those very same eyes that would comfort you after a bad day, the same eyes that shine whenever you told him about an achievement—no matter how big or small—, and the very same eyes that are now clouded with something more sinister as he searches for an answer in your own pair.

"If you don't want it then push me away. Make up your mind or else Sae's gonna be worried." Isagi mocks your voice when attempting to say your husband's name. The way it rolls off his tongue makes your stomach churn and the wedding band on your hand suddenly feels unbearably tight.

You shouldn't. You know better. You're in love with Sae Itoshi and this—whatever this is—needs to stop.

"You're turning into a mess down here, sis." You attempt to close your legs together but his grip is like iron. Isagi tilts his head to the side and huffs over your nub. "I said push me, baby."

"Y-Yoi—" Your words get stuck in your throat as he 'accidentally' brushes his lips against your heat. Another dark glint flashes across his eyes and he grins.

You pick up the call and clear your throat, but your free hand wanders to your stepbrother's head, giving him the slightest nudge so that his nose brushes against your slick heat.

"Hi babe, how is everything?" You're trying so hard to level your voice.

"Just landed," Sae replies. There are muffled voices in the background, which you assume are his bodyguards and paparazzi. After some awkward shuffling, he asks, "Are you at the property right now?"

"Yeah," You continue to tug at Isagi's hair, suppressing a moan when he flicks his tongue a bit too hard over your sensitive nub. "It's spacious and has a nice backyard, I—I think you'll like it." You're beginning to pant, almost whining, under your stepbrother's touch.

"Mhm, send over pictures when you can. Is Isagi with you right now?"

You nearly choke out a sob as his fingers begin to edge their way inside. "Y-Yes!" You sputter out, launching forward as your knees begin to grow weak.

"Hey, are you okay?"

You can't stop the twitching and bucking of your legs. Isagi notices and wraps a free arm around the back of your legs, keeping you upright and pressed against his face. "I-I'm fine, why?" You breathe out.

"You sound like you're sick." Sae is concerned. Concerned for your well-being while you are currently getting fingered by your stepbrother.

You almost cry when you feel Isagi’s fingers slip out of your sloppy folds. He gets up from his knees, gripping your waist as you stumble forward from the loss in pleasure, and grabs a hold of your phone. As if he's playing a game, Isagi holds up a finger to his lips, silently asking you to keep quiet. It’s almost scary how fast you see him transition from being an absolute monster to back to being your loving stepbrother all in a second.

Even with his mouth covered in your slick, he clears his throat and speaks with confidence to Sae. "She's feeling a bit down now but I'll drive her back once we're done."

"Is that so?" Sae lets out a heavy sigh. "Thanks, Isagi. I should be back before dinner so keep me updated."

"Anytime, we'll see you later!" Isagi grins over the line before twisting his head down at you. "Sis, do you have anything else to say?" There is it. That look again. His smile sends shivers down your legs as he presses the device to your ear, rubbing it firmly against the side of your face.

You can't find the power within you to break free from Isagi's taunting gaze. The way his lips grow wider as fear washes over yours makes you only fall for his touch just more. It's almost addicting as much as it's wrong.

"I love you, Sae." You force out the words and your stepbrother has the audacity to laugh.

Thankfully, Sae doesn't hear it. "I love you too. I'll talk to you guys later." And the line drops.

Isagi doesn't give you time to recollect your thoughts as he plunges his fingers back into your warmth. Your body staggers under him, hips matching his feverous rhythm, throwing the last of your morals out the window.

"Oh my god—!"

"You love him, yeah?" He hums in the crook of your neck and presses his hardened length against your plush thighs. "Love him more than me?" Isagi coos.

You throw your head into his chest, eyes shut tight, and inhale his stimulating scent. "I love him, y-yes I do...!" You fumble over the words and make a mournful sound.

"Is that so? Well, it doesn't matter either way—" Isagi drags you easily in his arms to the bedroom and positions himself behind you while facing the full-body mirror by the closet. "—because you're going to be screaming out my name." He pulls down your dress straps and starts leaving hungry, sloppy kisses across your neck and shoulder blades.

A shaky breath escapes your lips and you shut your eyes, tilting your head to the side, allowing him even more access. "Yoi..."

"Look at yourself, sis." His sudden sharp tone makes your eyes shoot up. His sweatpants fall down around his thighs and you see him stroking his thick length in the mirror. Isagi presses it against your increasingly wet folds, groaning from how easily your body accepts him, and gives your ass a harsh slap. "Watch how I fuck you."

You can barely recognize yourself in the mirror. Lipstick smeared, tears pooling at your eyes from a mixture of pleasure and guilt, dress straps slipping off your flushed shoulders, and the numerous amounts of hickeys from your stepbrother marred against your skin. And you still have that damn wedding ring on.

Isagi sucks his teeth in as he watches your chest rise and fall when he slowly enters you. The feeling is different compared to Sae's.

Your stepbrother's cock is thicker and angled more to the right, hitting and stretching out spots that you didn't know existed. Once you bottom him out, Isagi pulls back his hips before snapping them back into place. Just one thrust from him is enough to knock the air out of you. He keeps repeating the motion until you're a writhing mess and a puddle from your heat collects onto the hardwood floor.

"A-Ah—w-wait fuckfuckfuck...!"

Isagi snatches your face in his hand and pulls you up against his chest, making his cock nest deeper into your velvety walls. "Visit me often, yeah? It's not fair that he gets to fuck this pretty pussy every day."

You let out a muffled moan when Isagi collides his lips against yours, his tongue immediately seeking refuge in your mouth. Everything feels so hazy, so intense, nothing like this reminds you of how sweet and gentle Isagi usually treats you.

"Baby," He breathes, relocating his hand on your face to your neck, he gives it a tender squeeze. "I'm better, aren't I?" Isagi lets out a whine when he feels your insides tightening up around him.

Your eyes are glossed over, drool seeping out from the edge of your mouth as you mumble, "I—I don’t know… I’m—aaah…”

"Huh? What was that?" He pulls back, keeping the tip in, and chuckles when he watches your face twist in disappointment at the loss of feeling. "Say it and I'll give you what you want."

Isagi watches your reflection, paying close attention to the way your lips quiver at your next words. It's almost as if he's getting off at seeing your internal conflict with tears sticking hot against your lashes. Finally, you give in. "Y-You're better, Yoichi... you fill me up more than Sae..."

His eyes widen with glee. "That's what I fucking thought." Within seconds, he adjusts his grip on your hips and snaps back into your puffy folds. "If he ever makes you cry, you know your big brother is going to take care of you, right? No one can take care of you like I can."

You catch your breath when his toned biceps lift you in his arms. The second your back meets the mattress, his length stretches your hot entrance again.

"Shit, it's like you're made for me," Your legs hang limp over his shoulders as he presses deeper. "You take me in so good."

You pant uncontrollably under him, wanting to start sentences but being unable to finish as his thrusts and the lewd wet sounds from your heat bounce off the walls. You can tell by the dark look in Isagi's eyes that he relishes in the feeling of making you feel overwhelmed and stimulated. Every time when you call out his name, when your moans are forced out by his animalistic thrusts, he clenches his grip harder around you.

"Get on your knees, baby," Isagi coos and he lets out a dark chuckle when you obediently nod.

You struggle to get on all fours, lower body shaken to its core from the intense raw pleasure. You’re taken aback when you see the sheer amount of sweat and other bodily fluids that stain the mattress sheets beneath you. While you're brain is trying to process how on earth you guys are going to clean this up, Isagi has taken hostage your hips again, lifts your dress up, and is already repositioning himself from behind. With a swift swipe of his tip, he claims his territory once again.

"Fuck," He hisses, watching the plump of your ass jiggle at every thrust he makes. His other hand twists underneath you, digits finding their home on your clit. "You make the sweetest sounds, you know that?"

A familiar coil builds in your stomach. A feeling that has brought you and Sae closer dozens of times before. Only, this time, you feel yourself about to come undone by the hands of a different man. As his fingers work their final motion around your throbbing clit, your vision turns foggy, and your body slumps onto the mattress as your orgasm washes over you. Isagi groans as your walls fluctuate and squeeze desperately around his length, sending him close to his own ending.

His fingers dig deep into the flesh of your ass, leaving half-crescent moons, as he pumps streaks of white inside and pulls out immediately, allowing some to finish dribbling out on your back. The sight of you spasming with the combination of both your and his fluids spewing out causes him to moan in delight.

"Once a month, right?" He repeats your earlier promise, hot breath ticking your wet skin. When he realizes that you're too dumb-fucked to respond back, he reaches over and attempts to wipe the sweat collecting on your face. His normal bright smile comes back and it's like nothing has changed. "Let's get ready to meet up with Sae."

There's a heavy shift in the air when dinner arrives.

Isagi had graciously offered his hoodie to cover up the hickeys, knowing damn well that your husband is going to see them regardless when you return to your shared apartment. Still, Isagi believes he's still doing his due diligence as a good stepbrother.

You're sitting across from Sae and have been avoiding both males' gazes throughout the evening. From the second you sat down, to the moment Sae kissed your cheek, it felt so hard to breathe. You're not sure if Isagi is helping or making the situation worse by rubbing his hand back and forth on your thigh.

It's almost an hour into dinner and you've only taken three bites and are on your third glass of wine. Being the attentive husband he is, Sae picks up on your uneasiness and sets down his fork.

"Everything alright?" Sae eyes the two of you across the table.

"Yeah," Isagi speaks for you and curls an arm around your shoulder. "She's just feeling under the weather, remember?"

You're too overwhelmed by everything going on, so you lean into his touch, hands gripping your thighs in the process like you're trying to crush something, knuckles white and fingertips bruising.

You hate how going back to your husband's arms after this, talking about your future together, and potentially starting a family—all of it seems like it's the most daunting feeling in the world.

KINKTOBER TAGLIST (PART I)

@milkistoshi @mareonyan @saenora @blissblossom @wowonamo

#doobean:kinktober23 #bllk smut #bllk #blue lock smut #blue lock #blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi smut #whoops sorry my fingers slipped #cw: cheating #im sorry sae ...#i love u #cw: stepcest #doobean writes

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