#hkb asks

thinking about how she envisions her family, their close unit; how she wants victoria at the centre of it, soft and sensitive and heavy with their child. she thinks about the new house she’s been eyeing, the one with four available bedrooms and a big backyard and the one that’s close to both an elementary school and a daycare. add that to the fact that harrison has always wanted to be a big brother so the hunger has morphed, turning into a distant dream that cassie is clawing at each day.

thinking about cassie wanting to swoop victoria away. eileen wouldn’t allow it, of course, but maybe she just needs a push. an incentive. and surely, she’ll let cassie play the role of victoria’s partner once cassie’s gotten victoria pregnant. it’s not like cassie isn’t planning on taking full responsibility, anyway. she’s already got a ring buried under her clothes, just waiting for the right time.

in cassie’s twisted mind, though, the right time is when victoria’s carrying their baby.

thinking about cassie playing out the act. about victoria playing along. how they used to slide a condom along cassie’s strap and stock up on plan-bs or morning-afters to avoid a ‘pregnancy scare’. the thrill was unmistakable, making their appetites ravenous.

thinking about the shift, after. when cassie started wanting to breed victoria; when victoria started wanting to be bred. thinking about victoria poking holes in the condom; about cassie tugging the condom off mid-sex and having it rest on the perch of victoria’s ass like a reassurance that they’re fucking raw and that just one wrong timing and victoria would be full of cassie’s spill.

thinking about victoria’s slow understanding of cassie’s need. thinking about it affecting her too and now—

dennis doesn’t even call robby ‘daddy’ because it’s what dennis calls his dad. so imagine the stumbling conversation; of robby asking, with a shy flush, if dennis would be willing to call robby it. and dennis, just as embarrassed, telling him that it’s going to be weird.

“i call my dad that, robby,” he whispered, looking away with a breathy rasp. robby’s nose flared.

“oh,” he said, then that was that.

then came this conference: hundreds of doctors all cooing at dennis and robby, telling them how lovely it is that robby brought his son with him instead of his spouse. imagine how daunting it is to outright say that they’re wrong because what would be a balm?

hi, i’m dennis whitaker. i used to be his med student and now i’m a first-year intern at his hospital. we love each other very much. no don’t focus on the age gap and power imbalance haha.

yeah, right.

so they don’t correct the mistakes. it’s—

it’s not lying. it’s not like they are the ones spewing falsehoods about the nature of their relationship, but they don’t deny the croons. the honeyed whispers. the glee. they ignore the change in their gaits—robby’s hand leaving dennis’ waist to hold the small of his back instead, dennis stepping just a few paces away from robby—and pretend that this is not them playing into the accusation.

later, in the comfort of their hotel room, dennis breaks the tension.

“so,” he says, not looking up from his phone. “my dad, huh?”

he hears more than sees robby move to him, and he only has the chance to look up, to ask another tease, before robby’s pulling him up for a kiss. it’s hot. messy. teeth snapping, spit mixing.

hunger simmers in the air—two predators on the prowl.

“robby,” dennis rasps out. “dad.”

robby’s moan is loud, like a wounded animal, and dennis trembles, his appetite eclipsing his rationality. the shame. the guilt. these are stripped off him and he’s left there to paw at robby with a visceral need.

robby follows his greed—always close; never straying far from dennis.

“my sweet boy,” robby grunts. “my so—”

dennis’ orgasm is a rip in the cosmic balance. an undoing so thorough he feels the dregs of their sin sinking into his skin. he bucks into robby, insatiable.

cassie thought that it was a get-to-know-my-young-girlfriend’s-parents type of meeting but she walks into an empty home and is confused.

“where are your folks at, baby?”

“still working,” victoria replies, shrugging as she hangs her jacket before taking cassie’s to hang that too. with free hands, she loops her pinky with cassie’s and leads them into the living room. she sits down and pulls cassie with her, the two of them sitting, thigh to thigh.

“aww, s’too bad. i wanted to finally meet them too,” cassie says, half-distracted from studying victoria’s home. it’s… beautiful, absolutely, but that’s all there is to it. a beauty so perfect it’s near untouchable. maybe there’s a warmth here that cassie isn’t privy to, not yet, anyway, but it’s difficult to tell.

victoria scrunches her nose at cassie’s words before she finds the glinting home security camera angled towards the living room, surely sending notifications of activity to her parents’ phones. her dad seeing her cuddling cassie isn’t really an issue but her mom?

well, that’s what she brought cassie for.

she turns, nuzzling to cassie with a happy trill. cassie chuckles, the sound so fond that it drags down victoria’s back like a warm kiss, and pulls her even closer.

“you’re so cute, vic,” cassie murmurs, breathing her in. “god, i love you so much.”

victoria giggles, batting her eyelashes at her girlfriend, before ducking her gaze down to smoosh her face on cassie’s arm. she wants to kiss cassie so badly but she’s on a mission and, well, as much as she wants to piss off her mom, it’s not like she wants to cross a line and—

“hey, baby?” cassie asks, her voice cutting through victoria’s thoughts.

“mm?”

cassie shifts, angling herself so they can look at each other properly. like this, cassie cups her cheek, thumb teasing a touch over victoria’s lips.

“won’t you give me a kiss?” cassie puffs out so quietly that it’s almost lost amidst the thundering beat of victoria’s heart pumping in her ears.

victoria almost says it—yes!—desperate to give her girlfriend anything she asks of her, but the cold living room is enough to ground her from giving in. she worries her lips, frowning, and cassie tuts, using her thumb to dislodge the flesh from between straight teeth.

“none of that,” cassie murmurs, furrowing like even this act of mindless habit is a true cause for her concern. “you’ll hurt yourself.”

fuck. how could victoria say no to her?

“mommy,” she starts, soft and quiet, and cassie smiles like she’s won. “can we- can we do it in my room, instead?”

“of course, sweetie,” cassie croons and she smells like victory. “come, let me take care of you, huh?”

victoria nods, already submerged in the fog of her submission. distantly, she realizes that cassie wouldn’t know where her room is; that victoria needs to come up from the tides just enough to lead the two of them to her nest of a bedroom, but victoria stays under, happy to trail along her mommy with a hum reverberating in her chest—happy purrs, her mommy said when victoria came to her anxious about what is wrong with her. you feel happy with me baby, you feel safe.

she remembers the taste of safety and decides to give everything over to cassie—when has cassie ever done anything to hurt her?

cassie doesn’t know if she’s going the right way but her baby’s doing those happy trills so she supposes that she is. cassie knows enough how much of a safe space a room can be so she takes this as a sign that rounding the corner was a good call. the bedroom at the end of the hallway must be for her parents’, then.

she opens the door, not bothering with switching the lights on, and coaxes her baby to the bed. victoria falls with a hiccup, so, so putty already and cassie hasn’t even done anything. god, how adorable victoria is—her precious girl, the sweetest darling ever. victoria is everything cassie’s dreamt of and she doesn’t believe in god anymore but victoria’s also everything she prayed for. there’s nothing victoria does that doesn’t give cassie a rush of affection; and, sure, she’s biased but it’s also because victoria is such a good girl—always so hungry to prove herself, always able to. truthfully, cassie is just happy that victoria even likes her back.

“mommyyy,” victoria whines, pawing at her. “kiss me, please?”

cassie coos, folding herself atop her baby before peppering kisses up victoria’s jaw to her nose while obviously avoiding her puckered lips. victoria keeps angling her head, chasing after cassie’s elusive mouth, until a whine scratches from her throat, so desperate and needy, and cassie thinks, poor baby, before finally kissing her.

the kiss is wet and all teeth with cassie gulping down every of victoria’s happy little trills. the hunger bloats, her core throbbing, and in the next turn, the devouring is so thorough, victoria comes out of it sobbing for mama to make her cum.

.

cassie presses her tongue flat on victoria’s leaking slit before nudging the meat of her tongue inside her cunt in shallow thrusts, a ticklish feeling that has victoria keening, and pops out of her sweet prize to tease a graze on victoria’s puffy folds. her sweet girl—her beloved daughter—is sobbing in her pleasure, her fists gripping at cassie’s hair, pulling at every of her choked up plea of mommy in! in, please! wanna cum! wanna cum, mommy please when the door is ripped open.

the handle slams against the wall—for a moment, cassie’s thought was about the missing spring door stopper—and, instinctively, cassie grabs the sheets to cover up her baby before glaring at the cause. her words bubble up—a litany of something more intelligible than excuse me!?—only for everything to peter away at the sight of dr. shamsi staring at them with her mouth agape.

oh, fuck.

.

.

.