#bisexual reader

[fanfictionsweetheart]

Protective

Pairing: Valeria Garza x Fem!Reader

Summary: She was the wife of one of Valeria’s men. And he was horrible to her. Valeria suspected it and now she finally has proof, much as the proof sickens her. So she takes care of it.

Trigger/Content Warning(s): angst, mentioned/past abuse, referenced character death, toxic relationships

Word Count: 745

A/N: I love Valeria and god I want a powerful scary woman to take care of me. I doubt I’m alone in that.

(Name) was doing her best to be quiet as she cleaned up the cuts on her face. She was shaking as she did so. She didn’t want to be caught. She was terrified of being seen.

If anyone saw her, they would know.

They would know what her husband was doing to her.

She knew that when he got mixed up with the cartel it put her in danger. But she didn’t expect it to be by his own hand.

This was the first time he had done so when other people were around. The men and woman he worked closest with were using the small house he had bought them when they first got married as a safehouse for the week. She had thought that witnesses being around would provide her with safety.

She had been wrong.

She let out a hiss as she dabbed her face with an alcohol pad. She cursed hearing someone on the other side of the door.

Someone was listening. And her heart raced in fear, terrified that it was her husband, come back for another round at her. She couldn’t handle that.

Finally the person knocked.

“Be out in a minute.” She called out in Spanish.

“You’ve been in there for almost an hour, (Name), everything alright?” The person said and that voice made (Name’s) blood still.

Valeria.

The woman her husband answered to.

The reason he beat her tonight.

According to him she made some infraction that upset Valeria and as a result he was told to take care of it.

These bruises were him taking care of it.

She had thought that she and Valeria had been getting alone. This was the first time they had spent more than ten minutes with each other. And over the past few days she had found the woman making time to talk to her.

As those memories rushed through her head she realized why he had crossed a line tonight and it wasn’t Valeria telling him to. It was her getting close to Valeria. Her husband never acknowledged that she was bisexual, but she knew he hated that fact about her.

So, her getting close to the admittedly attractive woman he had to answer to...was too much and he beat the hell out of her when people could easily find out.

Her hands were shaking as she realized she’d been in too much of a rush to lock the door. The knob was turning and she looked up into the shocked face of the woman in charge.

“I’m okay.” We’re the first words out of her mouth, but she was certain that Valeria knew that was a lie.

“Did he do this to you?” She asked.

(Name) wanted to lie. It would be safer. But she couldn’t lie when looking into Valeria’s concerned brown eyes. She nodded.

“Come with me.” She said and reached out to grasp (Name’s) wrist and led her to the room that she was given to stay in, “Sit.” She pointed to the bed.

They were both quiet as Valeria cleaned her up. She could sense the rage radiating off of the woman in front of her. But the rage was not at her. After she was done she told (Name) not to leave this room.

Then she walked out. It wasn’t long before her husband’s screams filled the house. (Name) shook as she listened to him scream in agony and beg for mercy for almost an hour before a gunshot sounded.

She heard Valeria shout at her men to take care of the body before retiring to her.

“Did...did you kill him?” She asked.

“I did. And I would do that again. He told me why he did this tonight, and I took pleasure in informing him that I am bisexual as well before I shot him.” She looked at (Name), “I also told him that you’re mine now. And everyone knows it. And if anyone were to ever lay a hand on you again, I will break all of their fingers one by one.”

(Name) stares at her wide eyed.

Valeria cupped her cheeks and leaned in to murmur, “Even if you don’t want me like that, I will protect you.”

All (Name) could do to reply was to lean up and tentatively kiss Valeria’s lips. She could feel the other woman smile as she kissed back.

Was this incredibly risky and crazy? Maybe. But, the heart wants what it wants.

End.

[dcincorrect]

Big Hearts Club

Pairing: Bisexual Dean Winchester x Bisexual Female Reader (Platonic)

Summary: You'd been struggling with coming to terms with your sexuality for a while, keeping it a secret from Sam and Dean. This is the day you finally came out to Dean.

Warnings: Mentions of explicit content and a hint of angst, but it's all fluff (18+ only please!)

Word count: 993

"Dean's still out?" Sam inquired, stepping into the Bunker's library, where you were sitting at the table - eyes glued to your book.

"Yeah he's helping Garth sort through some of Bobby's old things," you responded, looking up at him.

"I'm gonna go for a beer run. You want anything?"

"I'm good, thanks. I'll stay here and hold down the fort."

"All right. I'll see you in a few," he smiled, grabbing his jacket and heading up the stairs.

It was late. Sam was gone now and for the first time in what felt like forever, you had the place to yourself. You decided it was the perfect moment for some much-needed "me-time," as these moments had become increasingly rare. You grabbed your laptop, headed to your room, popped in your earbuds, and began scrolling your go-to sites, looking for something that would help you let off some steam.

You didn't know how much time had passed, you were completely absorbed in whatever you were watching. Before you knew it, Dean was home. You hadn't heard him open the door to your room and certainly hadn't noticed him leaning against the doorframe, a bowl of popcorn in hand. His eyes were fixed on your laptop screen as he tilted his head. "Huh. That's a good flic," he interrupted, his voice low and casual.

"Dean!" you yelped. Your eyes widened in shock and your voice was laced with pure panic as you scrambled to close your laptop.

"Hey, woah," he said holding his free hand up, signaling that everything's fine. "I'm not stopping you, just wouldn't have pegged you for a girl on girl enthusiast is all... but I gotta say, this? This is hot. Got good taste."

"I'm not- an enthusiast. Can you leave?" you countered, your voice breaking a little from the anxiety. You felt like you'd cry any second now from embarassment and worry.

"Yeah, I'll go - brought you some food, though. You know, sustenance. Gonna need it." He winked, placing the popcorn down on the nightstand next to you.

"Please can you just leave?" you continued, voice louder than intended.

"You don't have to be embarrassed. I don't judge. It's me, of all people, Y/N, and it's just porn."

"Can we not have that talk?" you cried out.

"Fine," he said. "I have one question though and then I'll leave you alone."

"What?" you replied, practically begging for this conversation to be over.

"Why the interest in girl on girl?"

"Seriously?" you groaned. That had to be one of the dumbest questions you had ever heard. Then again, it was Dean – he was always too curious for his own good.

"Does that shit just turn you on? Or are you a lesbian? Just curious about it?" he pestered on invasively.

"Dean-" you were beckoning him to shut up at this point.

"You know what, you're right. It's not any of my concern. Not my place to ask. I'm gonna head to bed and I'll forget this ever happened. Good night, sweetheart." You were shocked that he just dropped it. Maybe he meant no harm by his questions. Maybe he really was just curious.

"I'm bi," you mumbled, scrunching up your face unconsciously, knowing you had to clue him in at some point. "I wanted to tell you, but I was struggling to come to terms with it myself and I really didn't know how to tell you, how to tell anyone, because I guess I'm not really ready to be open about it. Not like it's that huge a deal or anything but I'm- I'm bi," you rambled on nervously. The anxiety rushed to your head; it felt like you weren't fully conscious this was happening.

"That's awesome," he smiled.

"What?" you hesitated, your face painted with shock. You didn't expect him to say that. Part of you didn't believe you heard that right. Maybe that vamp you hunted last night hit you in the head harder than you thought. Maybe you were dreaming.

"That's awesome, Y/N," he repeated, sitting down next to you and pulling you into a hug. "Seriously." It was real. This was real.

He pulled away and looked at you, really looked at you. He saw the insecurity still etched in your face, the worry glossing over your eyes. But you never felt more seen than in that moment. He sighed, "Listen, you wanna know something?"

"What?" you asked with a chill of discomfort traveling down your spine. Part of you just wished this conversation would finally be over. You were still filled with anxiety, thinking he'd say something so-very-Dean like 'Maybe now I can watch it live and in person' or he 'found a friend willing to have threesomes with.'

"I am too."

"What?" you felt this bolt of surprise strike you and it took everything you had to keep your jaw from dropping.

"I am too. I get what it's like to be in such a state of horny panic and frustration not knowing who you want more: Batman or Catwoman... just like I get all those nagging insecurities that rattle around in your brain, that eat away at you sometimes. I get the fear of not being understood."

You couldn't comprehend it. "Wait- Dean 'Mr. Pulls Chicks Left and Right,' completely interested in women-"

"Is also completely interested in guys... yup."

"I don't- I don't know how to take that," you stuttered, still in shock.

"That surprising?"

"I mean- I think its the shock that I'm not alone. That someone really gets it. That you get it," you grinned in relief. Tears from all the pressure dissipating began to form in your eyes. "I can't seem to wrap my head around that."

"Hey, come here," he pulled you back into his arms. "I get it." He kissed your head, comforting you. "And I'm glad to know you're part of this Big Hearts Club too."

Looking for more to read? Find my masterlist here!

[eclairemaire]

Meeting the Missus pt. 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Wife! Reader

Category: Fluff

Summary: The Team finds out Bob is married and wants to meet the missus.

Warnings: Reader is described very similarly to Rhea Ripley, Reader and Bob are very much in love, No mention of Y/N used, Southern Reader (she's like all southern ladies sweet like iced tea, but can knock you on your ass if she has too), Express mentions of reader and Bob's Child, Lemme know if I missed any.

Word Count: 1.2K

Notes: This will be the final part of this series for now. I'm not sure how I want to continue the story. I hope everyone enjoys! If you have any requests, mine are open, and I will try to get to them. Enjoy!!

Everyone had started making their plates for lunch as you and Bob started to sort through what everyone brought. Nat brought hard seltzers and brownies. Payback brought a salad and a variety of dressings, and Sprite. Fanboy brought some homemade salsa and tres leches cake, along with some Mexican Cokes. Coyote brought oven-baked Mac ‘n cheese and fruit salad. Hangman brought ribs, banana pudding, and beer. Maverick, Penny, and Amelia brought a nice bottle of wine and sparkling grape juice for the girls so they wouldn’t feel left out later. Rooster brought sugar cookies from the grocery store and various snack foods.

After finishing sorting the rest of the food and drinks, Bob goes to help Riley make her plate, and you move to turn music on, the first song being Pink Floyd’s ‘Time’ from the Dark Side of the Moon album. Before moving back into the kitchen to make you a plate, grab some ribs, smoked sausage, mac and cheese, corn on the cob, chips, and ranch dip before heading out to the back patio.

Everyone had lots of food on their plates and had started eating before you had sat down. “This is some bomb food, Mrs. Floyd. I mean, I knew the food you made was good from how Bob’s always melting into his seat at lunch, but this is on a whole other level.” Fanboy said as he took a bite out of his burger.

“Thank you, Mickey,” you say as you start to eat food off your plate.

“So, I know everyone wants to know, how did you two meet?” Hangman asked as he looked between you and Bob.

“Well, it's kind of silly.” You say, making eye contact with Bob as you move to take a sip of your drink.

“It was back when I still rode broncos in rodeos. After I graduated from high school and before I enlisted in the Navy.” He said, picking at his food.

“Wait, you actually rode broncos?” Coyote asked, his face showing his disbelief.

“Hell yes he did, damn good at it too.” You exclaim as you scoop up some mac and cheese onto your fork. “That rodeo buckle I wore the first night at the hard deck was the one he got the night we met.” 

Hangman looked so surprised, “You won at a rodeo? I’ve been to many a rodeo; those broncos are brutal.” 

“I’d been riding my whole life, I was raised on a ranch, you know,” Bob said, turning to wipe some food off Riley’s face.

“Wait, what were you doing at the rodeo?” Maverick asked as he looked at you.

“I was there looking for work. I needed a job after high school, and I’d been going to and from ranches for as long as I could remember, so it was almost a no-brainer to try and get a job that dealt with livestock.” Turning to look at Bob, you continue to speak. “My grandparents had horses when my mama was growing up; she had always ridden, and even though we didn’t live in a rural area. I was taught when I was younger, and often spent time in the barns tending the animals.”

“I saw her when she was riding one of the mechanical bulls there -” “I’d never ridden a real bull, mind you.” You interjected as Bob mentioned the mechanical bull.

“Anyway, she was the only one who could stay on longer than anybody else. She was intimidating as shit back then.”

“Back then?” Nat asked incredulously, “She’s intimidating now.”

“NO, well, yes, you are still very intimidating,” Bob fumbled as he looked from Phoenix to you. He smiled at you before continuing with the story.

“I’d never seen anybody like her before. All the women in my life, while very strong in their own ways, were always soft in comparison to my wife. None of the girls I went to school with wanted to deal with hard labour, they would rather watcha movie, paint their nails, or do their hair and makeup.” He said, looking at you with adoration.

“Granted, I didn’t want to do that forever, example A, my life now,” You say, gesturing around you to your house and towards Riley.

“She was beautiful, and as she mentioned, looking for work. My dad hired her to help out on the ranch. We met her first day when I walked up on her changing into her work clothes behind our barn.” He huffed a laugh at the memory.

“We worked together for months before I worked up the nerve to ask her out. Then I enlisted in the Navy, and she went back to her hometown for college,” he said before shoveling some food into his mouth.

“We wrote letters to each other like total dorks and met up frequently while he was on leave. When we found out I was pregnant with Riley, we got married, and he took a few months off to help me with Riley after she was born, and then he got stationed at Lemoore, and we lived out there until we came here for the special detachment.” You say, looking around at everyone, and then your gaze landed on Riley. 

“Wait, so Bob, did you marry your first love?” Payback asked.

“No, I’d dated other people during high school,” Bob answered like that was obvious.

“What about you, Mrs. Floyd?” Penny asked as she spoke up.

“Me? No, actually, when we first met,” you start pointing between yourself and Bob, “I was at that rodeo with my girlfriend. We broke up shortly after I started working at the Floyd family ranch.” You say with a deadpan expression on your face. A few members of the squad looked shocked at your mentioning of a girlfriend, namely Payback and Coyote.

Rooster just huffed out through his nose, “I knew you were fruity somehow.” He said, pointing at you.

“You don’t get to call anybody fruity while you and Hangman dance around each other the way you have been, for as long as I’ve heard about you.” You point your fork at him with an eyebrow raised. Rooster raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Whoa, what did I do? I haven’t said anything.” Hangman asked, giving a brief glare in Rooster's direction, for somehow bringing the attention to their situation. You just gave him a pointed look.

“Mama?” Riley came to stand in front of you. “Can I have some dessert? And can Amelia and I go play games in the living room after?” She asks, her eyes were big, and she was giving you that look that you cannot deny.

“Sure, Bug, what do you want?” You ask as you stand and pick her up as you walk into the house. Yours and hers conversation fades out as you go inside.

Amelia went inside briefly after you and Riley. She had a vague idea as to what the team was going to start pestering Bob about and didn’t feel inclined to listen.

“So you got her pregnant before you married her?” Fanboy wiggled his eyebrows at Bob as he asked what everyone was thinking.

“Okay, do not say it like that, we were planning on having a kid, and we were both prepared for everything that could happen, plus it’s not like we had her when we were teenagers. We just so happened to have her before we got married.” Bob explained after sighing like his friends were his kids instead of his child, who was with you getting dessert inside. 

tags: @7dreambaby

[mia-can-yap-too]

synopsis:- Once Hollywood’s most elusive star, Y/n L/n finally tells the truth behind her seven high-profile marriages. Each husband loved her deeply, but she never loved them back. There was only one person who truly had her heart. It's time for the world to know.

pairing:- Toji Fushiguro, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Shiu Kong, Gojo Satoru, Sukuna Ryomen, Shoko Ieiri x Actress!reader

warnings:- bittersweet romance, fluff, underage drinking, mentions of age gaps, brief mention of drugs but no usage, bisexual reader

🌺:- Based on the book 'The Seven Husbands Of Evelyn Hugo'.

dividers by @uzmacchiato, header by me

Prologue

The journalist sits at the edge of her seat. She balances a recorder between her fingers as if it's sacred.

“Why now?” she asks.

You smile softly, the kind that had once launched a thousand headlines.

You are draped in silk the color of emeralds, perched in your sunlit balcony in Manhattan. The city roars beneath you, but the world above the 36th floor is silent, as a shrine to your memory.

“Because I want the world to know the truth before the stories turn me into someone I never was.”

The journalist swallows. “And the husbands? There were seven, right?”

You stare at your wine glass, then turn to the city skyline.

“They all loved me,” you say. “But I could only ever love one person.”

Toji Fushiguro — The Husband of Ambition

Toji was the first man who made you feel like you could own the world.

You were twenty and on the cusp of stardom, balancing studio contracts and midnight shoots.

He was older, not by much, but with the confidence only a man who had lived through his own storms could carry.

You met him at an industry party, adorned with borrowed jewels and sipping drinks you weren't old enough to order.

He didn't gawk. He didn't flatter. He only asked what you wanted most, and you answered without thinking. “Everything.”

He just nodded and said, “Then let's get it.”

You didn't marry him for love. You married him for power. A silent pact between two people who knew the rules of the game.

With him, you learned how to navigate rooms full of executives, how to turn whispers into offers, and how to walk away with twice what they'd thought you would accept.

He worshipped the ambition in you. You admired the precision in him. It worked.

Till it didn't.

Because when he began to want the quiet life, you realized you'd only just begun wanting more.

You left with no bad blood, no tears. He just kissed your temple and said, “You were always destined to outgrow me.”

You never denied it. You never looked back.

Kento Nanami — The Husband of Safety

Nanami was everything you were not.

Grounded. Still. Thoughtful.

Where your world was champagne-soaked and forever on fire, he was your island of peace.

You met at a charity gala.

You wore Dior. He wore a suit two seasons too old.

He didn't know who you were. That intrigued you more than it should have.

Nanami didn't chase the spotlight. He cared about real things, like inner-city scholarships and rebuilding libraries.

He listened when you talked. And when you confessed that you sometimes woke up wondering who you were behind all those roles, he said, gently, “Then let's figure it out together.”

You married him in Copenhagen, in a room filled with candles and whispers. It was the quietest, kindest wedding you ever had.

He loved you without condition. You tried to return it, but it wasn't fair. You felt yourself shrinking, not because of him, but because you couldn't be yourself in a world that asked you to slow down.

He deserved more.

You divorced with long hugs and no accusations.

You still send him cards every New Year.

He still writes back.

Suguru Geto — The Husband of Art

Geto was wild.

Not in the way the tabloids imagined, though. No drugs, no scandals. But in how fiercely he believed in creation.

He saw art in broken windows, city smog and the silence between scenes.

You met at an indie film screening where your name was listed as a surprise guest. You could feel his stares on you the whole time.

He cornered you afterwards, and said, “You're wasting your time doing blockbusters. You have something bigger in you.”

You had laughed in his face.

A month later, you accepted a role in his passion project.

It was the best work of your life.

You married him in a crumbling church turned art gallery.

He wore a linen suit. You wore black. He spent an hour whispering his vows in your ear.

He didn't care about your fame, but he loved your mind. The way you dismantled scripts, reassembled characters and turned pages into people. He made you feel seen beyond the red carpets.

But love, the kind you needed, the kind you longed for, was never part of it. Not with him.

He needed a muse. You just needed something real.

You walked away one October, barefoot in the rain. He didn't run after you. He didn't beg you to stay. He watched you go with a cigarette between his lips and said, “You'll win an Oscar for your pain.”

And you did.

You never learned about the way his tooth chipped from kissing the TV screen when you won.

Choso Kamo — The Husband of Softness

You met Choso on a rooftop.

It was a cast party, and he wasn't cast. He was someone's cousin, someone's friend. But he held up a polaroid camera and asked if he could take your picture.

You said yes.

He mailed it to you three days later. No return address. Just a handwritten note saying, ‘You looked like peace.’

He was a painter, but he rarely sold his work.

You found his apartment one day, canvases staked to the ceiling, most of them unfinished. “I paint to feel, not to show,” he had smiled then.

You loved that.

You married him because with him, peace felt desirable. You learned to breathe again. Sunday mornings became sacred. You bought groceries together. You walked dogs you didn't own.

But the world missed you. And you missed it.

Choso never asked you to choose. But he didn't follow you back either.

You kissed him goodbye at a train station.

He gave you one of his paintings. It was one of you both.

You never hung it, you couldn't find it in yourself to do it.

It lives in your closet, wrapped in linen with his scent still clinging on faintly to it.

Shiu Kong — The Husband of Convenience

You married Shiu for control.

He was a studio executive. Ruthless. Calculated. Always in the right room at the right time.

You had been passed over for a role you were born for. Shiu had the power to fix that.

So you offered a deal.

Marriage. Two years. Full press coverage. A clean glossy image. You needed the narrative. He needed the distraction.

It was sterile, respectful, even fun in its own way.

You attended galas together, kissed in front of cameras and laughed over takeout.

He never expected more. You never pretended.

When the time came, you held a press conference with matching smiles. “Too busy schedules,” you had sniffed. With your pretty smile and picturesque melancholy, everyone believed you.

You never loved Shiu. But you respected him.

And for him, that was enough.

Satoru Gojo — The Husband of What-ifs

He was the most famous man in the world when you met.

A model turned actor turned producer, with icy hair and eyes like camera flashes.

He flirted shamelessly. You ignored him completely.

It didn't last.

You co-starred in a romcom which became a cultural phenomenon.

The chemistry on-screen bled off-screen.

Your first kiss was scripted. Your second wasn't.

You married in secret in Italy, drunk off red wine and endorphins.

Gojo made you feel as if life could be one long and beautiful take.

He was chaotic, adoring and impossible to keep up with.

You stayed in love with the feeling, but not the man.

You divorced after a year. He sent your favorite followers every month after. You still have his contact saved as ‘Blue-Eyed Menace’.

You still think he's in love with you. He never married after, never took any girlfriends.

You think you'll always wonder what would've happened if you stayed.

Ryomen Sukuna — The Husband of Obsession

You were in your forties, then. Jaded and careful, yet still adored. And then he appeared.

Sukuna was a mystery. Private wealth. Dark eyes. Lips forever curled into a smirk that belonged in noir films.

He watched you during an auction. Spoke only one word to you. “Mine.”

A month later, he proposed with a blood-red diamond ring. You said yes before you knew why.

You married him in Venice. No press. No friends. Just you, him, and the sound of bells.

Sukuna adored you. Every breath, every frame. He collected your movies like scripture, knew all your monologues by heart. He was jealous of the past men, but he was never cruel. Just… consuming.

You tried to love him, you really did.

But loving someone who worships you isn't the same as being understood.

So you left. Gently, finally.

He never chased after you. But you think he would have, if you asked.

Shoko Ieiri — The Woman You Loved

She had always been there.

You met Shoko on your first set, when you were nineteen.

She was a medic, barely older than you, lighting cigarettes and rolling her eyes at everyone.

You were obsessed.

She didn't fall for you the way the men did. She didn't flirt. She watched. She noticed.

And when you cried in your trailer one night, overwhelmed, overworked and unseen, she handed you a tissue and rubbed your back. “They don't deserve you.”

You kissed her a year later, at some award show. She kissed back.

But then you got scared.

Because being in love with a woman, in your world, in that era, wasn't brave. It was suicidal.

So you ran.

But she stayed. In your life. In your orbit.

Through the marriages, the scandals, the silence.

She never demanded. Never judged. Always waited.

And now, nearing the end of everything, you look out at the skyline and whisper, “I always loved you.”

She was the only one who truly knew you, at your core.

And you hope, when the final credits roll, its her name the world remembers.

Epilogue

The journalist leans forward.

“So,” she starts softly. “Who was the love of your life?”

You answer without pause. “Shoko Ieiri. Always her.”

The recorder clicks off. The truth is finally yours.

And this time, it will be told right.

🌺:- not sure how many people actually read the authors note at the end so um throwback to that one time i accidentally said orgasmn instead of organism in front of a class of 30 classmates. Hope u enjoyed!

masterlist

[yoiisa]

In honor of pride month, could you pretty please write any characters of your choice with a bi reader? It can be any scenario really, I just really love my bi girls <333

Tags: TW for sexual harassment in Reiners, because some people just lack basic human decency/common sense. coming out and fluff other than that!!

ofc!! bi girlies unite! i'm going to do this with characters from a bunch of shows: reo from bllk, mitsuya from tokyo rev, sakura from wbk, reiner from aot, megumi from jjk, and akaashi from haikyuu!!

➜ you kept the fact that you're into both genders hidden for a while from reo mikage ➜ after all, he comes from a very prestigious family (likely also conservative), and didn't know how he'd take to dating someone part of the LGBTQ community ➜ however, once you met nagi, any worries about how open he was to that community were swiftly dismissed ➜ it got to the point where you genuinely considered whether or not your boyfriend would be happier just being with the white-haired boy ➜ you came out to both of them at the same time, and they were chill with it!! before proceeding to promptly take up all of each other's attention again . . .

"What's all that?" Nagi asks, pointing across the street as he rests his head on the table. You, Reo, and Nagi are on a cafe date (or it was supposed to only be you and Reo but Nagi just tagged along). Your boyfriend and you look over to see a store across the street hanging up a pride flag in the window. "Why're they hanging that up now?" Nagi asks. "Oh, it's pride month," Reo says. When Nagi gives him a blank look, Reo chuckles, "You know, gay people and trans people and such." Nagi hums as Reo pats his head. "They like rainbows?" "Nagi," you groan, "that's just the flag. It represents the community." Nagi nods and hums again, tracing his finger along the wood of the table. "Do we know anyone who's part of that?" Reo starts to shake his head, still patting Nagi on the head, but when you bristle, they both look up at you. They stare you expectantly and you sigh. Well, it's now or never. Hopefully, if they get upset, at least you're in public so someone can step in. "Well, I am," you say softly. " . . . Gay means that you like the same gender, but you're dating Reo," Nagi points out. You force out a laugh and say, "There's multiple kinds of sexualities. I'm bisexual, which means I like boys and girls dude. I can like Reo." You force your gaze over to Reo, but before he can say anything, the food comes. The waitress sets three coffee cups and the various pastries you guys ordered in front of you. Reo wastes no time digging in and you're left frozen in panic in your seat. Eventually, you clear your throat. "Reo?" "Hmm?" "Are . . . you okay with that?" "Why wouldn't I be?" he asks, his purple eyes wide and curious. "I don't care. As long as you're not breaking up with me over it." "Why would I break up with you over it?" you ask, your voice a little tight. "I just . . . I thought you might." "Why would I break up with you?" Reo chuckles. "That's stupid," Nagi chirps in, lifting his head. "Breaking up would be such a hassle at the end of the day. Like feeding myself. Reo, food." You watch as Reo takes a teaspoon and feeds Nagi some cake Nagi licks some of the whipped cream off his lips. The gesture is so tender and intimate, you can't help but somehow feel like you're intruding on them, instead of Nagi doing it to you. Seriously. Why were you so worried in the first place?

➜ mitsuya takashi is a very observant man, so he knew already that you were into both genders long before you came to him with the news ➜ he never brings it up though, so when he's so nonchalant about the news, you don't know if you should be happy that he doesn't care or offended that he clocked you so fast ➜ ultimately though, the happiness wins

"I'm bi," you blurt out one day. The two of you are in the park watching his sisters play. You're leaning on his shoulder, when suddenly the urge to admit it just arose. It could've ruined the moment, for sure, but you felt even worse keeping this a secret. Truthfully, you should've told him from the very beginning, but you were just so worried. After all, Mitsuya is surrounded by macho manly men all the time. However, Mitsuya, without missing a beat, just says, "I know. It's all good." You lift your head from his shoulder and look over at him in shock. "What do you mean you know?" "My love," he chuckles, patting your head and pulling you back onto his shoulder, "whenever we go anywhere, you're always staring at pretty girls that walk by. At first I thought you were just trying to get fashion inspo or something, but eventually I put two and two together real quick." "And . . . you're not mad or anything?" "Why would I be mad?" Mitsuya asks, kissing your forehead. "As long as you're with me, you're my girl after all." You nod and relax into him. Luna and Mana come running over and hands the two of your flowers they picked, squealing and grinning like the sun and stars personified. "Can you push us on the swings?" Luna asks, Mana bouncing besides her in excitement. "Sure," Mitsuya says, standing up. You link hands and head towards the swings, the two little girls already leaps and bounds ahead of you. As you walk though, suddenly a thought occurs to you. "Wait, pretty girls?" you ask, looking over at Mitsuya. "Are you checking them out too?" He's silent for a moment, his face going blank and his smile growing stiff, before he drops your hand and runs after his sisters. "Takashi, get back here this instant!"

➜ ahhh yes, sakura haruka. his romance sensor is absolutely off the charts with you ➜ he gets flustered enough with people who are only attracted to one gender, whether they're gay or straight ➜ but suddenly he finds out that someone can be attracted to both at the same time! and he just doesn't know what to do with himself ➜ he will actively ask you if you find a girl attractive in public (in her earshot), and you're like "dude you're my boyfriend, relax. i only have eyes for you." ➜ he's going to be so incredibly overstimulated by how badly he's getting flustered that he just turns to goop on the floor. it's so cute

Sakura had been red as a tomato for the entire day. "Haru, relax," you giggle, tuck some of his longer hair behind his ear. "I am," he says stiffly. "Babe, you're cutting off circulation in my hand." He scoffs and releases his tight grip on your hand, looking away shyly. You sigh and pinch his cheek. "What's wrong?" you asks, leaning up against him. Sakura's silent for a moment, before dragging you to the side of the sidewalk. He leans both of you against a wall of a store and starts point at people. "Do you think they're hot?" "What?" "That girl," he says. "Oh. Umm, yeah she's pretty." "What about him?" "I mean, in a certain light, I suppose." "Okay, and what about that-" "Haruka, what are you doing?" "Look around!" Sakura says. "Everyone's hot!" You blink in surprise, before cracking up. "Oh my god! You're little romance sensor is going off isn't it?" "It's not and don't call it that stupid name!" "Aww, but it's cute!" you respond, pointing at him and dying of laughter. "Don't laugh this isn't funny!" he cries, burying his face in his hands. You shake your head and kiss the backs of his hands. You gently grasp his wrists and lower them from his face. "You wanna know a secret?" you ask. Sakura is silent for a moment before nodding. You grin and lean in close to his ear, whispering softly, "I think you're the hottest person here." You swear, he's blushing so much you can see steam rising from his head.

➜ reiner braun's gaydar is honestly the worst thing in the world ➜ after all, this man saw ymir and historia openly flirting in front of him and still insisted that he had a chance with the latter T-T ➜ he's not mean about the fact that you're attracted to both genders, he's more clueless than anything ➜ but if someone is rude to you, he's the first person to come to your defense

You're sitting at a bar, when your senses start going haywire. Some sleazy ass man is scooting into the seat next to you, a smug smile on his face. "Hey, pretty," he says. " . . . hi." "I know you, you're on the board of the GSA here right?" he asks. You straighten up a little and give him your full attention. Alarm bells are still ringing in your head, but you try to keep them relatively quiet for now. "Yes, why?" "Are you into girls by any chance?" he asks and now you seriously are getting bad vibes. " . . . Yes. I'm bisexual. Why?" "Great!" he exclaims and you flinch. He puts his hands up in surrender and says, "Woah woah, it's nothing bad. I was just wondering if you'd be into a three way by chance." Your brain completely short circuits. "I'm- I'm sorry?" "Me and my girl over there," you glance in the direction of a girl who looks over. She appears nervous before giving you an apologetic smile. You glance back at the boy as he continues, "were thinking about having a threesome. You know, happy pride and all! Anyways, I'm not having sex with another boy, that's for sure, but I'd love to have two girls at the same time-" "I'm not interested, fuck off," you say turning away. "Aww come on," he groans, his hand coming onto your bicep. "It'd be fun~" "I said no," you try to keep your voice firm, but he starts squeezing your bicep and you start getting worried. "Let go." "Look-" "She said let go," a familiar voice says from behind you. The man drops his hand from your arm and you both look over your shoulder to find Reiner, his face dark. "Fuck off. Now." "Uhh . . . y-yeah sure! Sorry about that! Bye!" Before he can scurry off, Reiner grabs his arm and pulls him close. He leans in and whispers, "And stop making your girlfriend do things she clearly doesn't want to." The boy looks like he's about to pass out as he races away. You turn to look at your boyfriend, who still has an air of annoyance about him. "I can't believe some people," he grumbles, before sliding into the seat next to you. "Are you okay?" You nod and kiss the tip of his nose. Later, a friend of yours who knew that girl tells you they broke up and all you can do is smile and nod in approval.

➜ megumi fushiguro cares because now he becomes paranoid of the whole new side of competition ➜ he's very protective of the people he loves, and he can get jealous kinda easily ➜ now that he knows he has to fend off girls as well as guys? oh lord ➜ expect him to become a lot more pouty on the main ➜ it's the cutest thing ever

"Megumi," you groan, "stop staring at Maki like that." "Don't worry, I'm used to it," Maki pats your head and walks off. You're not though. Once the older girl is out of earshot you turn and glare at your boyfriend. "If I knew you were going to act like this, I'd never have told you at all." Megumi bristles before shaking his head. "It's . . . ugh, look. It's not that I don't trust you. It's that I don't trust them!" "Seriously?" "Yes! I mean look at you," Megumi says, blushing. The two of you stare at one another for a silent beat, before you laugh and gently punch him in the arm. "Megumi~" you tease, "you think I'm that pretty?" "Shut up," he groans into his hands. "I mean, you think I'm so pretty people will be falling for me left and right," you ask while batting your lashes. "You-" "You think, I'm so pretty that I'm just going to have all the guys and girls in the world at my feet!" you squeal. He grabs you and pulls your back flush against his chest. You squeak and giggle as he puts you into a make-shift chokehold. One hand comes up to cover your mouth, muffling your irrepressible giggles. "I think that you're going to annoy the world into loving you just for you to shut up," he grumbles. "That includes you, doesn't it?" you ask. Megumi doesn't say anything, just buries his face into the crook of your neck. You lick the palm of his hand and he moves it, wiping it off on your shirt. You turn your head and kiss his cheek. "Hmm, I can't help it you know," you say smugly, "if the world falls for me with one look in my pretty eyes." "Shut up," he kisses the juncture of your shoulder and neck. "Hey, that tickles." "I know." The two of you stay standing like that for a while, your head leaning back to rest on his shoulder. "Don't worry. The only person in the world I'll fall for back is you." You'll never see it, but you can feel his lips pull into a smile against your skin.

➜ akaashi keiji is a lot like mitsuya, wherein he already knows your sexuality ➜ unlike mitsuya though, he doesn't hide his knowledge from you, but instead comes up to you outright ➜ he attends pride parades with you whenever he gets the chance ➜ he enjoys being knowledgeable about the community as well, so he researches it a lot in his free time ➜ it actually leads him to start discovering his own sexuality. he doesn't put any labels on it, but you both know he isn't straight. it just kinda hangs in the air between you and you leave it at that

Akaashi is being visually assaulted right now. The sun is reflecting off of every single flag in the vicinity and it doesn't help the fact that a lot of people are decked out in glittery/shiny attire. The saturation is way too high right now. Although, nothing here is burning brighter than the smile on your face. You got face paint earlier, and someone made a flower on your cheek with blue, pink, and purple petals. That and your makeup looks flawless and your skin is glowing. You look so in your element and comfortable with the world right now. The two of you keep your hands linked tight together as you walk through the streets, music blasting from someone's speakers and the world turning into a kaleidoscope as he breathes. It's a completely new environment for Akaashi, but he doesn't feel out of place strangely. In fact, he's never felt more secure, except maybe when he's playing volleyball. A few stalls have been set up throughout the city with food and merchandise. Eventually, your feet grow tired, and the two of you find a bench to sit on. You guys get some takoyaki to split and people watch, your head on his shoulder as strangers pass you by. "Are you having fun?" you ask after swallowing another bite. "Yeah," Akaashi says, resting his head on yours. "It's just . . . so much more crowded than I realized. I guess I didn't know this many people were living in this community near us." "Well some of them probably came from other places to attend the parade," you say, cracking open a soda. "Everyone's probably not from here." "Still." "I know," you smile. You turn to him and kiss his cheek, "Thank you for coming with me today." He stares into your eyes and nods, patting your head. "Thank you for showing me this." As the celebration ends and the two of you start the journey home, he squeezes your hand. "What if I'm also . . . something?" You look over at him and quirk your head. "Do you know what kind of something?" He shakes his head and falls silent for another moment. "Just something not straight." You giggle at his wording and lean up against him. "Then you're something not straight." You kiss his cheek and sigh. "No need for any rush. We'll figure it out slowly, one step at a time." He nods and kisses your forehead.

a/n: hey y'all i've crawled out of my hole!! i almost forgot to do akaashi in this lol (ᵕ—ᴗ—) but that's done!

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Wife Girlfriend Training (Tengen x Self-Insert!Reader 18+ One Shot) [COMMISSION FILL]

Synopsis: When Tengen puts in a big order to your bakery and you're short-staffed, you deliver it yourself only to find Uzui home alone. To repay you for the trip, he invites you in for dinner where things take a major turn when he finally admits his and his wives’ attraction to you. You’ve never been in a poly relationship before, so Tengen gives you an introduction to what it would be like to be his 4th girl...including some “training” of his own.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+; Self-Insert!Reader; Plus-Sized!Reader; Poly Relationship; Sister Wives; Highkey Flirting; Strangers to Lovers; Daddy Kink; Spanking; Tengen Has A Big Dick; Multiple Positions; Oral (Giving & Receiving); Deepthroating; Mutual Masturbation; Big Dick Training; Dirty Talk; Choking; Dom!Tengen/sub!Reader; mild BDSM; Creampie; Reader Cums 3x

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you! 

Writer’s Note: My very first Tengen fic!! I love me ALL of him & his big ass arms. I’ve thought about him bending me over MANY TIMES. His wives too. We all married. Anyways, a special thank you as always to @curiouscutie143 aka Tengen’s 5th wife (I’m his 4th) for trusting me to bring her fantasies to life & paying me to do it ❤️ I hope you all enjoy! -Jazz

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When the bell hanging above the door to your bakery tinkles, you look up so fast that you nearly get whiplash. 

You expect to see a familiar, tall hunk with braided, silver locks or one of his gorgeous, black-haired beauties in the doorway of your business place, but your heart droops in disappointment when all you see is an old woman with her support dog—a regular. Not the regulars you want to see. 

The small, white-haired woman waves at you and you wave back, putting a smile on your face. As she takes a seat at her regular booth, one of your employees goes to take her order.

You busy yourself cleaning off the counters and display cases of your baked goods when your friend and coworker comes walking out of the kitchen doors with a tray of cookies. “Got the batch of chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin ready for you.”

She sets the tray down and wipes her hands off on her apron. You’re wearing your own which is coated in flour from this morning’s batch of homemade cake batter that you stored in the freezer for future cake orders. “Thank you. I just need to decorate them now.” With a huff and an “oof”, you bend down to get some colored frosting out of the mini freezer under the counter. 

You work quickly, squeezing tiny designs and flowers on the cookies in time for the lunch rush. Right now, it is the morning, so the usual customers you receive are just for coffee. While you work, your friend fills in an online order for a pastry and a lavender latte. You can tell from the way she’s looking at you from the corner of your eye that she’s about to make a joke. 

“What, your boyfriend ain’t visit you yet?” She asks, looking at the front door. “Will he bring your girlfriends too?” You turn around and point the frost baster at her. She jumps back, laughing. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you growl. “Now stop saying that if you value your clothes.” 

You abruptly turn around and continue your work, ignoring the way your body hums at the thought of your anticipated visitors. “Well, he sure seems to think so,” your friend giggles as she places the flaky pastry in a paper bag. “Every time he’s in here, he always looks like he wants to take you home with his girls, rip off your apron, and—“ 

The sound of the bell on your door ringing, fortunately, stops her, but it isn’t your so-called “boyfriend” or “girlfriends”. It’s just a businessman coming in for his morning coffee. You sigh and shoot a sharp look at your knowing friend who skips off to make a latte. You try to distract yourself from your thoughts by working, but your fingers feel numb and you can’t seem to focus so much on the cookies. 

All because of that damn Hashira hunk and his three beautiful wives. Dammit. You almost wish Tengen Uzui never entered your bakery five months ago, but then again, it’s brought in a lot of business. To have a popular Demon Slayer Corp and his crew come in to indulge in your bakery has upped your sales and given you new customers. Tengen is one of them. He and his wives have become regulars of yours since Tengen stumbled into your bakery all those months ago. 

And he literally stumbled. One of his wives, with her twinkling indigo eyes and shoulder-length black locks, dragged him into your bakery. Her blue kimono was short enough to draw eyes to her thighs and impressive rack. “In here, in here, Tengen-sama!” She excitedly shouted. “Look-it! They have the cutest cakes here!” 

You had turned around with a welcoming smile, expecting it to be a dad and his daughter, but you were mistaken when you caught the glimpse of the gorgeous woman and her equally gorgeous man getting yanked on by the arm. 

He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen in your life. About six-foot-something, he towered over Suma and was built like a goddamn tank. Your eyes didn’t know what to land and stay on. His silver locks of hair? His handsome face? His gorgeous crimson eye? His charming smile? His big ass arms? 

He was big in all of the right places, his body impressively huge and toned, and seemed to make your bakery look like a dollhouse. An eyepatch adorned with three crystals covered his right eye while the other looked right at you from behind the counter. The smile that crossed his lips nearly made you shiver in delight. 

Behind him were his two other wives, one with orange and black hair and a red kimono—Maiko—and one with long black hair tied into a ponytail, violet eyes, and an endearing mole on her right cheek—Hinatsuru. Each wife was beautiful, toned, and had racks you unconsciously stared at. Quickly, you looked away, feeling like a pervert. You hated being bi sometimes. Why must God punish you with hot guys and girls while at work? 

“Suma, c’mon now, really!” Maiko scoffed, her hands on her hips and a scowl on her pretty face. “You can’t just run off with Tengen-sama like that! You know how he feels about us getting separated!” 

Suma pouted, playing with her black locks. “But I just wanted to look at the cakes,” she murmured, staring longingly at the display of cakes and tarts by you at the front desk. Tengen chuckled, the deep rumble of his chuckle making your insides turn. “I think that she can explain more about ‘em to you, darling,” he gently said. “Hello, miss. Is this your bakery?” 

All three of his wives looked at you as if they just realized you were standing there. They must have because Hinatsuru immediately gasps, horrified. “Oh, miss, we’re so sorry! We didn’t even notice you there!” She bowed respectfully. “Please forgive us for our rudeness.” 

Maiko did the same and forced Suma to bend forward as well in an apologetic bow. Tengen did the same with ease. “No, no, it’s fine!” You protested, suddenly sweating under your apron and despite the AC pumping cool air around you. “You were too focused on the cakes and I don’t blame you. I made them last night if you four would like a sample.” 

Suma popped up and gasped like an excited kid. “Really?! Oh, my gosh, thank you so, so much, Ms…er….” She stopped and squinted curiously at you, looking around your body for a name tag. Maiko rolled her eyes while Hinatmusu giggled into her dainty hand. 

“V,” you answered. “I’m the owner of this bakery.” Tengen laughed at his wife and offered his big hand across the counter. “Tengen Uzui, 8th Demon Slayer Corp member,” he said in his deep, luscious voice. “Pleasure to meet you. These are my wives, Suma, Maiko, and Hinatsuru.” 

“Please, just call me Hina,” Hinatsuru replied with a kind smile that made you think of blossoming flowers. Suma gave you a cute wave while Maiko seemed to not know what to do and just blushed despite her standoffish attitude. You took Tengen’s hand and shook it, noticing the rings adorning his fingers and the bracelets jingling against his wrist. He was so…flashy. 

You were so focused on his jewelry that you almost missed that he said “wives” and “eighth Demon Corp member”. You kept a smile on your face as you shook his hand, ignoring the way your hand tingled as his calloused fingers clasped your smaller palm. But inside, you were gobsmacked. This was THE Tengen Uzui, one of the most prominent demon slayers in all the land. And here he was in your tiny bakery with his three gorgeous ass wives! 

“V-Very nice to meet you,” you damn near exhaled. Uzui seemed to realize the power he had on you from the simple touch because his kind smile turned into a flirty smirk. “This is a cute lil’ place you got here,” he said as he stuck his hand in his pocket that was once in yours. “We couldn’t help but come in to check out what you had, right, ladies?” 

“Mmm-hmm!” Suma answered with an eager nod. “We love all kinds of sweets, especially Maiko! She loves eating cakes and cookies late at night when she thinks no one is paying attention.” 

Maiko gaped at her sister-wife, flames nearly coming out of her reddened face. “Hey!” She barked. “That’s not true!” Uzui wagged a finger at her, tutting. “Lying is a sin, don’t you know, my Maiko?” He teasingly asked in that silky voice. You melted just like Maiko did, a slight whimper exciting her lips at the pet name. 

Hinatsuru suddenly appeared at the counter, that kind, genuine smile still on her lovely face. “You mustn’t mind us,” she giggled. “We have our different personalities, but we really do work great as a team. I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.” She turned to look at them, an adoring look in her eyes. 

It was a look that you were envious of. You’ve never interacted with a poly couple before, but you knew right then that it was something you’d never knock until you experienced it firsthand for yourself. Seeing all of the love in Hinatsuru’s eyes made you want to try it out for yourself to see if you, too, could experience that kind of feeling. 

But alas: these are just fantasies right now. Your partners are your business and baking right now. You’re so dedicated to your relationship and passion that you wake up at the ass crack of dawn to bake and you don’t leave until almost eleven at night sometimes because you’re busy preparing for events and business hours. It becomes tiring, yes, but it’s all worth it. You love your little bakery to death and you want to see it continue to blossom like you know it can. 

So, like any good baker and businesswoman, you gave Uzui and his wives a sample of your cakes: fruit tart with glazed fruit and lemon custard, vanilla coconut with coconut flakes, tiramisu, and chocolate mousse with dark chocolate powder dusting the top. You watched joyously as the four chomped down on your delicacies, each one wearing expressions of wonder and satisfaction. 

Suma made a very lewd-sounding moan as she chomped down on the chocolate cake, frosting all over her mouth. “Wow!” She sighed. “These are absolutely amazing! And you baked all of these yourself?” 

You flushed at the twinkle in her eyes. ”Yeah,” you bashfully replied. “I’m so glad you like them.” You turned to Uzui who swallowed his sample in one gulp and rubbed his toned stomach. “Oh, more than like, Ms. V,” he said. “We love these little cakes. And this little place of yours is so cute and…flashy.” He looked around the quaint and small bakery, smiling fondly. “It’s adorable! How long have you had it for?” 

He seemed so interested in this that you almost didn't know what to say. It had been forever since someone actually seemed like they wanted to know all about you without having ulterior motives aka wanting to sleep with you. Another reason why you barely dated. You nervously laughed, taken aback by his genuine interest. “About two years now since I got my license, but I’ve been baking literally my entire life.” 

Uzui whistled, looking like he approved of this information. “That takes so much skill!” He praised, leaning against the counter with one huge arm slung across it. “So you’re a businesswoman, a skilled baker, and beautiful? I’m sure you’ve got the fellas linin’ up outside your door.” 

The smile that crossed his lips was flirtatious and playful. It would turn you off if it came from some other guy you barely know, but there was something about him that made you not mind. And it had nothing to do with his status. Uzui came off to you like he was a big flirt, yes, but also very laid back and easy-going. It relaxed you even when you barely knew anything about him. He had a very blasé attitude to him that didn’t match his flash jewelry and painted fingernails that you were absolutely attracted to, picturing them somewhere on your body. You understood then why his wives were so fond of him. 

“You mustn’t embarrass her, Tengen-sama!” Hina critically said, grabbing Uzui’s arm. “Pardon me for saying so, but you are very beautiful, Ms. Y/N.” A pink blush spread across her cheeks, making her look even more gorgeous. You were breathless, unable to speak. A woman as gorgeous as her complimenting your looks was like an award in gold. “Isn’t she?!” Suma squealed. “I was staring at her the whole time wondering how she got her hair like that! Oh, and her skin is so pretty and glowy! Don’t you think so, Maiko?” 

All of you turned to Maiko who was busy nibbling on her tiramisu. She blushed at the eyes on her and tucked into herself. ”I-I guess,” she mumbled and continued eating. Uzui smirked at you, a playful twinkle in his eye. “She’s a shy girl,” he whispered. “Don’t let her turn ya off.” 

You didn’t tell either of them that you were turned on beyond belief. Fortunately, their desire to put in an order made you forget all about how much you were throbbing and how weak in the knees you felt. Uzui boastfully ordered a dozen cakes for his wives and his team, resulting in you filling two boxes with twelve of your cakes each. Uzui carried the two boxes and gave you a thankful smile as he and Hina exited your bakery. 

Suma practically skipped after them. “Thank you for the cakes!” She called as she waved from the door. Maiko stayed behind and passed you a crisp $100 bill. “From Tengen-sama,” she explained. “He said keep the change.” She paused, her face ablaze. “A-and you do have…really pretty hair,” she muttered. She didn’t stick around long enough to wait for you to thank her. 

You watched her go, somehow already missing their presence and hoping to see them again. They brought a light to your bakery the way no other customer has. But as you were processing the money, the door opened again, and in walked Uzui. “Oh, did you forget something?” you curiously ask, cocking your head to the side. 

He didn’t answer you as he strode up to you in five long strides, his boots thudding across the floor. Your heart leaped at his strange frown, wondering what could be wrong. Did he not like the cakes after all? He suddenly threw an elbow over the counter and leaned in like he was about to tell you a secret. “You’ve got a card or somethin’?” he whispered. Because I have a whole lot of sweet-toothed people who would love to come here for their fix.” He smirked at you, goofily so. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic personality. Reaching down where the cash register was, you plucked a business card from beside it and handed it to Uzui. He gave you a smile and a wink as he pocketed your card. “It was nice meeting you, V,” he said. “We’ll be back.” 

And that they were back. The Hashira and his three wives came back again and again, buying sugary, caffeinated drinks and sweets. They came mostly on the weekends and sometimes during the week on random, but like clockwork, they were here. Uzui never came alone, always having his girls with him and spending all kinds of coin on whatever they wanted. 

As time passed, you found yourself looking forward to them showing up. You enjoyed their presence and they seemed to make your little bakery that much brighter and sweeter when they were here. It didn’t take long for your days to be filled with daydreams and nights to be haunted by fantasies of being with them as intimately as they are with each other—holding hands, touching lips, whispering sweet nothings… 

Especially with Uzui. How could you not? The man is a walking wet dream! Every time he slid you some game and flirted with you so openly in front of the girls and in private, you could feel yourself folding. But how are his wives so okay with him flirting with another woman in front of them? Is this just their relationship? Did you really want to understand? Maybe…join them? 

‘No, you horny bitch,’ you firmly think to yourself as you finish frosting the cookies. ‘No dating right now. Just business. Keep your head on straight.’

No matter how much Uzui’s flirting turns you on and piques your curiosity. Besides, how can he possibly be interested in you? He already has three women on his arm that would put any supermodel to shame. With his status and looks, he couldn’t possibly want you. 

You manage to distract yourself with some customers for a while until you get a particular call that you are not expecting. You answer it as normal, thinking it’s just another order for some catering or something. “V’s Sweets,” you brightly say into the phone. 

“Hi there, Ms. V,” a familiar, silky voice replies in your ear. Your brain damn near short circuits. “Your voice first thing in the morning is definitely better than these goddamn birds on my roof. How are you this morning?” 

It takes a minute for you to find your voice as his washes over you. You look around the bakery to make sure no one is watching you slowly combust behind the counter. “Uzui,” you exhale. “Um…m’fine!” You clear your throat, quickly recovering. “Good, thanks. How are you?” 

“Perfect now,” he answers without missing a beat. Goddamn him and his game! You can hear him smile on the other line and briefly imagine how fine he looks. “Listen, as much as I’d love to stay on the phone and hear you talk, I’ll admit that I’m in a time crunch with training. But I need your help with somethin’ big.” 

The gears in your head immediately start turning. What could it be, you wonder? A big event for the Demon Corps he wants catering for? “Oh…okay,” you hesitantly say. “What can I do for you?” 

“I want to put in an order for my girls,” he explains. You don’t know why, but hearing him call his wives “my girls” makes your heart flutter. 

‘Maybe because you want to be his girl too.’ 

You see, they’re off traveling to the mountains for a training session,” he continues. “They’ve been gone since last Monday and are returning Saturday night. I wanted to surprise them with a cake to welcome them home, but I need it ready by tomorrow. I know it’s last minute and I’ll pay as much as you want.” 

You instantly begin to schedule the cake order in your head’s calendar. Today is Friday which means you have at least the next 24 hours to fix this cake. Thank God you have a leftover batch of batter in the freezer you can use. “It’s no problem, Uzui,” you giggle. “That’s so sweet of you! Just tell me what flavor they like and other details for the cake. I promise I’ll have it ready by tomorrow.” 

Uzui sounds relieved. “You’re a fucking doll,” he sighs. “I’ll send you the money once we’re off the phone. Just work your flashy magic like I know you can, V. My girls are gonna be so excited when they get home!” You smile proudly, glad to know he trusts you so strongly when it comes to baking. 

You learn that he’d like a single-layered cake with buttercream frosting, candied flowers, and three flavors: vanilla for Hina, strawberry for Maiko, and chocolate for Suma. You write it all down and once you get that Cash App deposit, you get to work. 

For the rest of Friday into the night, you spend your hours mixing, baking, and sweating hard in the kitchen while your wonderful employees graciously take over for the customers. Even when they leave that night at 9 PM, you’re still there, flour on your face and food coloring on your apron. 

You are tired and in need of a hot shower, but once you finish the cake, you step back and admire your handiwork. It is a beauty—buttercream frosting swirls decorate the top of the cake along with candied flowers surrounding the words written in the middle: “Welcome Home, Girls!” You made sure to make the insides a swirl of vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry, coloring it just right. 

You almost want to call Uzui and send him a photo, but you decide to surprise him. So you carefully wrap the cake in plastic, place it in the fridge, and lock up your bakery before going home to sleep, walking on cloud nine. You think that nothing can go wrong with this order…Until the next night, that is. 

Everything that could ever go wrong goes wrong for you. For one, it’s because the cake can’t be delivered to Uzui until he gets home that night because he’s training a class. “I won’t be home till at least eight,” he explains that morning, sounding apologetic. “If someone can drop it off then, I’ll be home to get it personally and pay extra.” 

Number two, you’re extremely short-staffed. Not only is it Saturday and most people don’t work on weekends (except for you), but it’s also raining. The plans for the weather are downpours all weekend which means you definitely aren’t going to be able to find a deliverer. When you realize your dilemma, you sigh into your mug of much-needed coffee with two shots of espresso. “Shit,” you mutter, quiet enough to not alarm customers. Now it’s up to you to handle this. 

That night, while the handful of employees you have are cleaning your bakery before closing, you take the cake and put it in the trunk of your cute little Sedan. It is only drizzling right now, so you hurry into your car and punch Uzui’s address into Apple Maps. Once the route shows up, you take off but drive slowly due to the slick roads and the cake in the trunk. 

You’ve personally delivered orders before, especially to big events, such as parties and weddings. Delivering to someone’s house isn’t any different for you…except for the fact that this delivery is for a man that you’re severely feeling. 

Uzui’s place is about twenty minutes outside the city where the Demon Corps compound is located. His little home, purchased for his wives, is ten minutes away from the compound down a dirt road. You manage to make it there before the rain starts coming down like a waterfall in the Amazon rainforest. 

Raindrops pound against your car like tiny mallets as you race out of your car to toss open the trunk and get the cake. Even in your raincoat, you feel like you’re soaked to the bone. The dirt road has become wet and mushy like quicksand, making it hard to move in your boots. “God,” you groan, gripping the cake tight as you quickly move through the thick sheet of rain. 

You manage to make it to Uzui’s front door and rapidly knock with one hand. “Yes?” you hear him call, stern and unsure. Fuck, you forgot to call him first! “It’s V!” you shout through the door. “From the bakery? I’ve got your cake order here!” 

There’s a beat of silence before you hear the lock on the door click. The door opens, revealing a cozy home and a very wet, very shirtless man towering over you. Uzui stands barefoot in some sweats that are dangerously low on his narrow hips, giving you a peek of his well-defined V-line slick with water. His hair is stringy and wet and a towel is wrapped around his neck which means he must gotten out of the shower. You nearly drop the cake at the sight of him. 

“Hey,” he sighs. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, V. I tried to call, but reception is so bad ‘cause of the rain.” 

Your eyes tick up to look at his guilty expression instead of his body and sweatpants where you were definitely not hoping to see a dick print. “Oh…why?” you carefully ask. “Did you not want the cake anymore?” 

Uzui bursts into laughter. “Hell no, are you kiddin’? Of course, I want this beauty!” He smiles adoringly at the cake in your hands. “But the girls told me that they won’t be home until tomorrow because of the storm. That’s why they aren’t here. It’s just me.” 

It’s just me. “Oh,” you reply. “Well, that’s okay! I can still just drop it off and it’ll be good by tomorrow.” You hold the cake out for him to take. He does so, his big, calloused hands brushing yours. You clear your throat, awkward and ignoring the spark you feel when you touch. You snatch your hands away and put them in your pocket. “W-Well, I should probably—“ 

“You’re leaving?” he asks, sounding shocked. “In this weather? Wouldn’t you wanna wait this out for a while? I feel bad enough that you even came all this way here just to drop it off.” That’s an idea. A very bad idea. “No, no, it’s fine! It’s my job anyways, so—“ 

“Job or not, it’s still very generous of you,” Uzui interrupts you. “Can I fix you somethin’ before you go? Did you eat?” It’s just me. His words come back to you, haunting. Being in a room alone with a man you’re very attracted to and so happens to be married is a recipe for fucking disaster. “Uh…no, I’m really not hungry.” 

Grrrrooooowl. Your stomach rumbles, giving you away. All you had for lunch was coffee and a piece of apple strudel. Uzui smirks knowingly at you while you think about killing yourself. “Uh-uh,” he chuckles. “C’mon, I just fixed some rice and grilled chicken if you want some. The rain doesn’t stop till nine, so you can head out then. Cute car, by the way.” 

“Well…” You turn to look at your Sedan, contemplating your decision. What if this is a trap? What if you walk in there and never come back out? What if he’s really a cult leader, his wives are his members, and he’s trying to indoctrinate you or something? 

And what if maybe he truly is just being nice? Finally, you sigh and pat the pocket of your jeans to make sure your phone, keys, and pepper spray are, in fact, there. “Alright, but only until the rain stops,” you say, softly yet firmly. Uzui nods and opens the door wider for you. “Make yourself at home and I’ll getcha a plate. Lemme take your coat.” 

He stands behind you as he helps you out of your raincoat, making your heart pound ten times faster. He’s so big. He practically hits the ceiling above with how tall he is. You know he’d just about cover your body if he was on top of you. Once your coat is off, he hangs it up near the door and coaxes you to sit and decompress. 

While he takes the cake to the small yet homely kitchen and begins posting around in it, you take a seat on the love sofa that you know he and his girls have cuddled and fucked many times on. You left your boots by the door to dry so you stretch out your toes and shiver at the warmth curling throughout the house. Uzui’s home is so cozy with its splash of color, small rooms, wooden furnishings, and framed photos. 

Many, many framed photos. You stare at one next to you of Uzui in a suit in front of a backdrop of cherry blossoms. Hina, Suma, and Maiko stand in front of him, shoulder to shoulder, each holding a bouquet of flowers in gorgeous white dresses. “That’s from our wedding day with Suma,” he suddenly explains.

You startle, finding him standing above you with two steaming plates of white rice, grilled chicken with parsley, and a side of steamed vegetables. “That was taken three years ago,” he says, sitting down beside you. “We’ve been together for a long while now, all of us.” You smile despite yourself as he passes you your plate. “That’s a beautiful thing, to be with someone for so long and stand the test of time. Especially three other people.” 

He nods, agreeing with you. “We’ve had our ups and downs, but I wouldn’t give ‘em up for anything. They’re my everything.” The hint of an adoring smile on his face makes something tighten inside of you. Jealousy? Disappointment that you haven’t found that yet? All yes. 

For a while, you eat in silence that is only filled by the sound of the rain pitter-pattering outside. When you feel that some time has passed, you speak. “I envy you,” you sigh as you finish chewing on your piece of chicken. The explosion of herbs and spices nearly makes you moan in delight. And he can cook too?! “The dating pool is in Hell, so I haven’t done much of it.” 

“Oh, I believe it,” Uzui chuckles. “To be a woman as independent and beautiful as you…some men are intimidated by that. Believe it or not, no one wanted to court my wives because of their fighting skills and independence. It turns a lot of guys off.” He makes a disapproving face at the idea that makes you laugh. 

“Well, all it takes is that right guy to make any independent woman his,” you blurt. Fuck. Now that the words are out there and he’s looking at you so cluelessly, you have to explain. “Y’know,” you say, slowly chewing on your rice. “Like she’ll submit to you because you treat her so well. You make her feel safe.” 

Uzui nods in understanding, his plate completely clean. “Ah…is that what you look for in a partner?” You nearly get a piece of steamed broccoli stuck in your throat by the sudden pivot of a conversation topic. “Um…w-well, yeah, I guess, if I dated.” 

Uzui raised a confused eyebrow. “You don’t date?” Slowly, you shake your head. “I haven’t had much of a good swim in the dating pool, so I’ve just been focusing on my business. It gets lonely, yes, but I’m just not up for the bullshit and games.” You shovel more food into your mouth to silence yourself, realizing how easy it is to open up to Uzui. 

The Hashira continues to stare at you, his eye almost like a laser beam burning into you. You’re so focused on your food and the rain that you nearly miss his next words: “Well, I know for a fact that me and my girls wouldn’t dare bullshit or play games with you…if you let us show you.” 

You place your fork down on the plate, your appetite suddenly gone. Everything sounds louder now: the rain, your labored breathing, the blood pumping in your ears. You turn to Uzui and find him staring at you, his one eye blazing with intensity. “Why are you telling me this?” You ask above a whisper. 

Uzui lowers his plate to the table and does the same to yours. He doesn’t touch you, but his gaze on you makes you feel as if he’s touching every single part of you. “I was tryin’ hard to keep this to myself, but now that you’re here and we’re finally alone…I can finally tell you how I really feel.” 

In that moment, something in you ignites and you stand from the couch like something lit your ass on fire. “A-Actually, I need to go,” you stammer as you head to the door. “I need to feed my, um…cat.” Even though you don’t have a cat. 

But as you attempt to race to get your coat and boots, Uzui stops you by simply saying your name. “V,” he says, his voice almost pleading. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to make you feel uncomfortable.” 

Slowly, you turn your body to him, but you don’t look at him. You keep your eyes locked on the floor. “This feels like a trap,” you admit with an awkward laugh. 

“It’s not,” he protests, sounding hurt by the assumption. “I promise you, V, it isn’t. I had wanted to invite you over when the girls finally came home to tell you all of this, but with you being here…shit, I just couldn’t resist not sayin’ nothin’ to you after so long.” When you finally do look at him, his face is filled with so much longing that it nearly makes your knees buckle. 

“I need to act on my advances somehow,” he continues. “Did you notice any of ‘em? Ever?” You put your hands in your pockets, unsure of what to do. The room suddenly feels too small for your size. “Um…yes, but I’ll admit that I ignored them because of work. I needed to focus on my bakery.” 

“I don’t blame you for that,” he replies. “And I don’t blame you for bein’ wary of this, V, but you don’t have to be that way with me. My feelings for you are real.” The soft lamplight illuminates his handsome face. “My attraction for you is real.” 

You grip your keys in your back pocket. This is getting too hot and too personal. It’s too much. You should turn and leave to avoid falling even deeper into this dangerous situation. But instead, you stand there and face your fears. “I…I feel the same,” you softly confess, so soft that the rain nearly swallows up your voice. 

But Uzui hears you nonetheless. His body relaxes, the tension in his muscles melting away. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he wonders and you look at him like he’s deadass serious. “Tengen, you’re married,” you scoff. “You have three women that you’re committed to!” 

He nods, biting his lip. “Okay, yeah. That was a stupid question.” 

“So what about your girls?” you demand. “Is this going to ruin your marriage?” Immediately, he shakes his head. “Not at all. I was waiting till they returned so they could tell this to you in person, but they’re just as attracted to you as I am. They’ve wanted you to join our little family since we met.” 

Your eyes widen as your blood pressure rises. “Family?!” you parrot. “Tengen, I can’t marry you!” 

Uzui blinks in confusion and then realization like flickering lightbulb appears in his eyes. “No, no, no!” he protests with a laugh. “You’ve got it wrong, darling. I don’t mean join our marriage. I mean join our relationship—that is, you’d be dating all four of us…if that’s somethin’ you’d want to do.” 

You bite your lip, contemplating this. Yes, you’ve thought about being with them. Many of your nights have been filled with hot dreams of you between them, your bedroom filled with moans from all of you. But it’s different from actually doing it. “I’m attracted to you all too,” you admit, “but I’ve never been in a poly relationship before. I’ve never even been with more than one partner in the bedroom.” 

Uzui’s gaze is soft and sweet, making your stomach flutter with butterflies. “Nothin’ wrong with that,” he says, taking a step closer. You allow it, not moving even as he gets closer to you. “It’s your decision, V, but I can promise you that if you say yes, not a day would go by where we wouldn’t show you how right you were in picking us to be your partners.” 

When he is finally near you and towering over you, he takes your hands in his. “For however long you want us.” You stare up into his eye, falling deeper and deeper into whatever “trap” he has set for you. “Say that I did say yes,” you say, breathless from the magic he is working on you. “What would happen if I was your fourth girl?” 

His brows raise in surprise and a smirk stretches across his lips. “Oh,” he replies. “You want a teaser?” You jerkingly nod, afraid to speak. He turns his hands over so they are underneath yours and rubs his thumbs along your knuckles. You inhale and unfortunately catch a whiff of the fruity soap and cologne on his skin. 

“Well, for one,” he starts in his silky, dreamy voice, “I’d treat you the same way I treat my wives: with love, adoration, and respect…in and out of the bedroom, if that’s what you’re gettin’ at.” His eye pierces into yours, filled  with heat and a sinful promise that makes you want to fall into his big arms that are the size of your entire body. “And I make sure all of my girls are taken care of.” 

Something in the way he says that also tells you that ain’t just words—they’re a fucking promise. Finally, temptation gets the best of you and you toss yourself at him to kiss him. He makes a noise of surprise as you leap into his body, but once your body and lips melt into his, he moans in pleasure and satisfaction at finally having you here. Against him. Wrapped in his arms. 

His lips are soft and taste faintly of wine. They pull you in deeper and deeper, causing you to push your plump body against his. Uzui welcomes you, his toned arms hugging you tight and inviting you to indulge in his biceps and pecs. The more you touch, the wetter you get. You can feel your pussy clenching in your panties, excited by the many sights, scents, and sensations you’re experiencing. 

Finally, you pull away and you’re both panting, only an inch away from each other’s lips. “I take it you like that idea?” he murmurs against your lips. Slowly, you nod, speechless. “So you wanna give this a shot? Remember, baby, you call the shots here.” 

He gently strokes your back, not cringing at all at your rolls and love handles. It makes you feel especially sexy. You bite your lip, thoughtfully stroking his chest. “I’m thinking about it, but I think I need more…” One of your hands slides down to play idly with the tie of his sweats. “Persuasion,” you sigh. 

A big, happy smile crosses Uzui’s lips and he plants another passionate kiss on your lips. “I can do that, no problem.” Another hot kissing session begins that sweeps you off your feet and makes your pussy gush. The more you push against Uzui, he pushes back just as much, his hands roaming over your back, legs, and plump ass in your jeans. 

He wedges one of his muscular thighs in between your soft, plushy ones and you gasp at the hard sensation you feel pushing against his sweats. “Can you feel me?” he asks, peppering your neck in kisses. “That’s what you do to me. What you’ve been doin’ to me since I met you.” 

Your mouth stays agape, processing what you’re feeling. The pleasure is immense. His bulge slides against the heat between your thighs, right up against your fabric-covered pussy. “Of course, you’d need a bit of training with me though,” he adds, deciding to kiss your shoulder now. 

You tilt your head back, enjoying his ministrations. “You mean, like, fighting?” you ask. “Like your wives do?” He pulls away and a sheepish smile is on his lips. “Well, yes, but I meant a “different” type of training,” he chuckles. “I’m, uh…kinda big.” 

You stare at him blankly, confused. Instead of clarifying, he takes your hand and places your hand on his abs. “Go ahead; touch me, baby.” His eye twinkles with mirth and lust that excites you. Your hand cascades down his washboard abs to his V-line until you meet his very big, very hard, very thick bulge. Kinda? That thing is like a third arm! 

At your gobsmacked expression, he frowns. “Is this making you uncomfortable?” he worriedly asks. You flush, biting your lip to curb some of the horiness that has taken hold of you so you can’t even think straight. “Uh…uncomfortable ain’t the word I’d use.” 

Interest crosses Uzui’s handsome face and he yanks you closer to him. “Oh, yeah?” he teases. “I’m gettin’ to you, hm? Lemme see then.” His hands move off of you to move down to his sweats, his fingers gliding against the ties holding them up. “You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.” 

You don’t need to be told twice. Quickly, you take off your sweater, jeans, and bra along with your socks while Uzui takes his sweats and briefs off it one sweep. Suddenly, you both stand naked in his living room, your eyes drinking each other in. Uzui hungrily stares at your plump, soft, curvaceous body in the lamplight. 

Even though you’re clearly bigger than his wives, he still looks at you like you’re a dessert plate. If it wasn’t for how damn good he looked, you’d be embarrassed, but you’re too busy staring at his beautiful body, pierced nipples, and that big cock hanging between his three-trunk thighs. “Oh, wow,” you gasp. “Y-You’re really….big.” 

Uzui smiles, flashing you his pearly whites. “I’m on the thicker side too,” he says pridefully. “I thought it’d scare my wives, but they love it, even without penetration.” 

You can definitely see why. Your mouth salivates and your pussy aches for him. He steps to you, his chest and nipple rings now eye level with you. 

“So I’d train you to take my big dick,” he purrs. “Is that somethin’ you’re interested in tonight? Maybe a trial run?” 

A night of orgasms with the Hashira himself? How could you say no? “Yes,” you whisper. “But can I choose the positions?” He smiles, overjoyed with your agreement and gently kisses your lips. “Whatever you want, baby. But let’s take this to the bed.” 

As soon as Uzui leads you through the house to the last room—his and his wives’ bedroom—, he and you immediately hit the king-size bed big enough for six people and begin your highly anticipated “trial run”. After a serious of tongue kisses, touches, and licks, you’re suddenly in the most compromising position you’ve been in in a long time. 

You sit against the pillows with your legs spread and your panties discarded on the floor after Uzui pulled them down your thighs with his teeth. His thick fingers rub your cunt while your hand is wrapped around his dick coated in spit and flavored lube from his nightstand. 

Uzui stares at you adoringly while you jerk him off, pushing his hips farther into your hand. “That’s it, mama,” he coos. “Stroke that dick like a good girl. Get a feel of it.” 

You whimper at his praise-fille words, your pleasure only fueled by his thick fingers rubbing your clit in small, slow circles and the wet, lewd sounds of your hand sliding along his slick cock. You get to know each other and your bodies, focusing on what you respond well to and what you may not. So far, your body is responding extremely nicely to everything Uzui does. Your nipples are hard, your heart is pounding, and your pussy is gushing on his fingers as he continues to rub you. 

“Isn’t it so nice?” he asks, his voice husky and soft from your little hand stroking his big, thick dick. “Havin’ a big cock in your hand while you get that pussy rubbed?” He looks down at his slick fingers, hardening at the sight of your glistening holds. “She’s so wet for me. It’s been a while since someone has treated her well, hasn’t it?” 

He retracts his fingers and holds them to your mouth where you part your lips and begin to suck on them. He moans as he feels your soft lips wrap around his thick digits before he slides them out and places them back on your cunt. His cock grows hard, throbbing in your hand. “U-Uzi,” you moan. “I want you in my mouth.”

He smirks down at you, ever the tease. With one of his other big hands, he wraps it around your throat and squeezes. “What’s the magic word?” He presses a bit harder against your clit, making you gasp. “Please,” you exhale, your eyes fluttering at the pleasure. Uzui places a soft smack on your cunt, making you jump. “Louder,” he demands. 

“Please!” You whine, the word escaping you. He presses an awarding kiss against your soft lips as his hand replaces yours wrapped around his cock. “Good girl. Now open up.” Once again, you part your lips and he slowly slides his shaft into your mouth, allowing you time to get used to him. 

He is as big and as thick as he looks with a throbbing vein trailing from his tip dribbling in pre-cum to his heavy balls that lightly tap your chin as he sinks in deeper, deeper, deeper. 

You taste the salty pre on your tongue as his head slides across it, the taste tantalizing your tastebuds. He is so warm and thick, stretching out your mouth with every inch. 

He lets you settle into it for a few minutes before he begins to rock his hips and fuck your mouth. Your eyes sting with tears and your jaw aches from it being open slack, but you induce it. The pleasure of pleasing Uzui and having his big cock in your throat is too good to pass up. Uzui groans, his hand tangled in your hair. “Yes,” he hisses. “That’s it, take me deeper. Fuckin’ hell, V, you’re so good at this.” 

Hearing his husky, silky voice sound so thick with pleasure makes you oh-so wet. You begin to gag on his cock as you move your head up and down, bobbing along his shaft. You lick along him like he’s a lollipop, causing spit to drip down your lips and his balls. You’ve never felt so sloppy and slutty, but you enjoy it immensely. Is this how his wives every time they blow him? 

Suddenly, Uzui pulls himself out of your heavenly mouth and lays on his back. Before you can ask what he’s doing, his hands wrap around your waist and pull you on top of him towards his face. “Wait, wait,” you gasp. “What are you doing?” You look back at him, perturbed. He just gives you a dashing smile and lays a smack on your ass. “Putting this gorgeous ass on my face where it belongs. Don’t worry, I can handle you, mama. You just worry about gaggin’ on my cock, okay?” 

Seeing the gentleness and lust for you in his twinkling eye buries all of your doubts about sitting on his face. “Yes, Daddy,” you blurt, not even realizing what you said until you say it. You flush with embarrassment, but Uzui’s cock stirs like you just said the magic word. “Fuck, I can’t wait to have you,” he exhales, shuddering at your obedient reply. 

He coaxes you to park your pussy on his face which you do, bracing your hands on his thighs just as his tongue begins to caress every part of your slippery, soft, wet cunt. Your whimpers and moans are muffled as you begin to throat his cock once more, bobbing up and down, your tongue swirling around the heat while you stroke the rest of which you can’t swallow. 

Uzui is so unbelievably good at eating pussy, but you wouldn’t think he wasn’t. He uses his fingers where his tongue isn’t, rubbing your clit while his tongue explores your folds, his moans causing vibrations to travel up to your hardening, tingling nipples. You begin to suck on him eagerly, sinking your throat deeper onto his shaft. 

He groans underneath you, pulsing his hips up to fuck your face. “So greedy. I’m scared you won’t wanna share me once I get my girls in here.” Smack! He gives your ass another smack that makes your pussy quiver. “Ya think you could be a good girl and share my cock, baby girl?” 

You pick your head up from his cock and take a breath of fresh air. “Y-Yes,” you softly whine. His fingers slowly sink into your pussy, making your moans grow louder. “Do you mean that?” he asks, his voice dipping below an octave. You whimper as he curls his digits up, making you rock your hips back in pleasure. 

That knot in your stomach tightens until it finally snaps and you open your mouth to gasp as your orgasm approaches. “Oh, my God, Uzui…I’m gonna…oh, shit, I’m cumming!” Your orgasm ripples through you as Uzui begins to gently suck on your clit while he finger-fucks you, taking you through your nut. 

It’s a powerful, intense orgasm that makes your eyes flutter closed and your body feel like it’s soaring. It’s an orgasm intensified by the fact that it’s a sexy ass man causing it. That only makes it better. When it finally fades, you shudder with delight and a dopey smile appears on your lips. 

Uzui hums in disapproval as if you’ve proven that you’re lying, sliding his fingers out of you. “Guess it can’t be helped, but we’ve still got some training to do.” 

He plants a kiss on your asscheek and on your pussy. “Now be a good girl and take this dick the way you need to,” he purrs, giving you the go to use his dick as a personal dildo for your enjoyment. After all, you still need to undergo the rest of your trial run. 

You choose cowgirl first because it allows you to take control over the tempo and pressure. Uzui allows it, personally loving how you look bouncing on his cock. He lays back against a pillow with his arms comfortably behind his head as he ogles at the way your ass jiggles and juicy tits bounce every time you sink down onto his cock. 

“God, Uzui, yes!” You shout. “Yes, yes, keep going! Don’t fucking stop!” You’re losing your mind on it, practically seeing stars as you rock your hips, your hands gripping his pecs and your knees on the bed.

Uzui smirks up at you, loving this movie. “I’m not even doin’ anything, baby,” he chuckles. “That’s all you. Just look at this ass bouncin’ on my cock.” He gives your ass a sharp smack, loving the way you loudly whine as he does it. “Such a little cock slut you’ve become.” He tuts, licking his fingers before rubbing your clit. “You’re worse than my wives.” 

Just as quickly as it happened, he takes his fingers away and sucks on them. “But if you insist on me doin’ something to you…” He suddenly sits up and grabs you before thrusting his hips up to meet yours, plunging his cock deeper inside of you. Your mouth falls slack and you grip his shoulders, sinking your nails into his skin. 

“How’s this, hm?” He grunts. “Is this enough for my girl, huh?” You can’t even begin to voice the amount of pleasure you feel as he fucks you stupid, bouncing you in his lap. “Fuck, Daddy, yes!” You moan. “Oh, my God, fuck!” 

The pleasure only reaches new heights for you both as he suddenly lays you down onto the bed, hikes you legs up over his shoulders, and begins to fuck you missionary style. He mounts you, rides you, plants that big body on top of you as he puts you into his mattress. You wrap your arms and legs around him like a koala bear, enjoying the ride he takes you on. 

He smiles down at you, enjoying it too. “Such a flashy expression you’ve got there, baby,” he huffs. “Is this dick that good, hm? You enjoyin’ this trial run so far?” You weakly nod, too busy moaning to form coherent sentences. “Aw, c’mon, mama,” he coos, reaching down to squeeze your throat. “Give Daddy some words.” 

You don’t know what feels better: his big hand replacing a necklace around your throat or his cock buried inside of you. Desperation to keep this feeling fills you, giving you that kick to speak. “Uzui,” you moan. “Keep going. Fuck me please!” 

Uzui, with his face flushed and his hair falling in his face, smiles down at you the way a wolf would his prey. “Oh, sweetie, you haven’t been fucked yet.” 

After pressing a kiss to your bare foot, he bends your knees so he can press his pelvis against yours, your ass cushioning his thighs, and begins to piston his hips against yours. With every thrust and brush of his pelvis against your needy, throbbing clit, you grow wetter. So wet that it drips down your asscrack onto the sheets that you’re currently gripping for dear life. 

Fortunately for the both of you, your wetness increases the lubrication, making it easier to Uzui pound your pussy into the bed that rocks and creaks below you. Your moans and swears mingle with one another, creating a chorus of pleasure that echoes throughout the empty house. 

It doesn’t take long for that pleasure to build and spill over into your second orgasm of the night. “Cumming!” You sob. “I’m cumming!” Uzui talks you through it with that soft, sexy voice of his, still drilling your shit as if his life depends on it. “Cum for me, baby. Give me another, c’mon.” 

He presses himself against you, his nose buried in your hair, and gives you a few more determined, deep strokes that send you over the edge. With a loud sob-like moan, you cum again, gushing all over the thick cock buried inside of your cunt. 

Uzui groans as he feels your walls clench around him, threatening to make him cum too…but not yet. He still needs to show you more. When he finally feels you go slack underneath him, he gently unwinds your arms and legs from him. “That’s better,” he sighs with a smile. “Now it’s time to get my nut too.” 

Slowly, he pulls out and turns you over without warning. With a gasp of surprise, you feel him grab your hips and lift your ass up before sliding himself back home inside of you. Taking control over you and your body, he begins to slam himself into you, burying his cock deeper and deeper into the wet, quivering folds of your pussy. 

“That better?” He bellows from behind you. “You like gettin’ fucked like this?” You whine and moan in response, your face buried in the mattress. He fucks you like you’re his own personal fleshlight, using you for his own pleasure while also giving you yours too. Your pussy, still sensitive from your last two orgasms, squelches and throbs around him, pulling the cum out of him. 

Uzui leans down to whisper in your ear, his big body covering yours once more. “And just think: you can get this every day. Every night. Any time you want.” He reaches between your thighs to rub your clit, stimulating you. “You can get it fast and rough or slow and gentle. You can have this whenever you want it, baby. All you have to do is say yes.” 

You want to say yes. You’ve never wanted anything more. Your brain is fogged by pleasure and your third orgasm quickly approaching. You can’t believe that you can have endless nights of endless orgasms and hot sex with not only him but his three gorgeous wives too. Who wouldn’t say yes to that? 

“Oh, fuck!” You sob into the bed, fisting the sheets. “Too much! I can’t—“ 

“Uh-uh,” he interrupts you in a voice so demanding and stern that it silences you. “Don’t tell me you can’t take it. You can, baby. You can do whatever you set your mind to.” 

He presses your ass down onto the bed and proceeds to fuck you pronebone style, drawing his hips down against your soft, plump ass. 

“So you’d better set it on this cock,” he whispers. “If you wanna be mine, you have to.” 

You weakly turn your head to the side to look at him, finding his face already within reach. He plants a hot, wet kiss on your lips, sharing his breath with yours. “Don’t you wanna be my girl, mama?” He whispers against your mouth. “Don’t you wanna be mine?” 

Yes. Everything in your mind and body is screaming the word: Yes, yes, yes. Finally, you swallow your pride and let your need and the hot sex talk for you. “Uzui!” You sob. “Fuck, fuck, fuck yes!” 

You want to be his and you want him to be yours. His wives, too. You want everything they could ever offer you. You want it all. 

You can hear the smile in Uzui’s voice as he speaks, still pounding your cunt into the bed and bringing you to the brink of no return. “Give me another one, baby. Fuckin’ give it to me now. I’m gonna cum too!” 

There is no more talking as your orgasms take over, the pleasure rising and expanding until it finally explodes. With a gasp, you orgasm for the third time that night, clenching around Uzui’s magical, beautiful cock. The Hashira cums with you, letting out a loud moan as he fills you to the brim with his cum. 

You weakly whimper at the feeling of his warm seed gushing out and filling you up. There is so much! So much that it drips out of you and dribbles down your asscrack. He keeps himself buried inside of you, gripping your body to him as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear from his bed if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. 

You let him, loving how big and strong he is. He feels like a weighted sweatshirt on top of you, warm and cozy yet hard and slick with sweat. You inhale, breathing in his scent, falling more in love with it the more you breathe him in. He’s perfect. 

Finally, after what seems like a lifetime, Uzui gently pries himself away from your body. But he doesn’t roll off of you. For a moment, he takes a minute to stare down at your body, looking at you like you’re a Goddess who has blessed his bedroom. 

The way he gazes down at you makes you flush with embarrassment and shyness despite the act you just did together. ‘You’re perfect too,’ he says without opening his mouth. 

After sharing a kiss, he finally pulls out of you. “You okay?” He softly asks. Weakly, you nod, unable to lift your head up due to exhaustion. “Here, let me fetch ya a towel.” 

You feel the bed move as he gets up and hurries to the bathroom. When he returns, he has a towel and a bottle of massage oil. He begins to wipe you down with the towel, gently wiping the cum off of your thighs and ass. You let him, your limbs feeling like jelly. 

“All clean,” he finally announces. “Now hold still for me. You might be a little sore, but it ain’t nothin’ I can’t fix.” You feel him straddle you, his powerful thighs on either side of your hips. He squirts some of the massage oil into his palms and vigorously rubs them together before massaging the slick oil into your back, shoulders, ass, thighs, and calves. 

You softly hum at the feeling of his hands massaging your sore muscles, his fingers kneading the aches, kinks, and tight knots. He ebbs away the soreness from the sex, causing you to relax into the mattress. 

After doing your back, he moves off of you and helps you flip over onto your back. He pecks you on the lips before massaging your neck, breasts, stomach, inner thighs, and legs. The scent of lavender and vanilla hangs in the air from the oil, sending you on a trip to a field of it. 

He is so careful with your legs, lifting each one with a gentleness that makes your heart melt. His fingers knead your inner thighs and calves, caressing down to your ankles and toes. You can’t help but feel that it is more intimate that the sex. “You sure know how to treat a girl,” you sigh. 

He chuckles as his hands stroke up and down your ankle. “I try. You did so well for me that you deserve a reward.” You flush at the praise and close your eyes, completely and utterly ready to toss in the towel and be his. 

Oh. That’s right. You already did say yes…but that was when he was fucking you stupid. It was during sex. You don’t know his perspective on talking shit during sex, but does he consider your answer truthful or valid? Can he tell that you meant it? 

Because you did. You want to be his and his wives’ so badly. Things would have to go slow for a while so you can get used to dating four people at the same time, but you also know that they would be patient and happy to give you all the time you need. 

Something in you tells you that they would prove to be the best partners you’ve ever had. 

Biting your lip, you open your eyes to stare at the beautiful man still massaging your leg. “Uzui?” You whisper. Immediately, he pauses and questionably looks at you. “I meant what I said earlier…about wanting to be yours.” 

Realization lights up in his eye and he gently lowers your leg on the bed. “So you mean…you want us?” He expectantly asks. “My wives and me? You actually mean it?” 

Slowly, you sit up onto your elbows and place a hand on his. A slow nod and a smile are all Uzui needs for his answers. He scoops you up into his lap and hugs you close, pressing a passionate kiss to your lips that makes you swoon. “Thank you, V,” he whispers, joy evident in his tone. “I promise you that we’ll make you so, so happy. We can take it as slow as you need us to and we can—“ 

His words are cut off by his cell phone ringing in the living room. “Damn,” he sighs. “Hang on a sec.” 

He gently pushes you off of him and rises from the bed to head to the living room, leaving you alone to your thoughts for a moment. You laugh to yourself, in disbelief that you’re actually doing this. But you also find that you’re not regretful. If anything, you’re excited. You’re intrigued. You’re attracted to the idea of being with these four magnetic, attractive individuals and you want to get to know them even better. 

Uzui finally returns after a couple of minutes, still naked and looking good enough to lick. He wears a secretive smile on his face as he comes to sit on the bed again. “What?” You ask, raising a brow. 

“Well, that was Hinatsuru callin’ me,” he explains. “She said she and the girls will be home early…tonight, actually.” You gape at him, making him laugh. “They decided they wanted to test the storm and realized it was easy to travel in. Plus, they missed me too much. They’ll be home in about two hours.” 

Your heart skips a beat as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you down to lie with him on the bed. “So now we have two things to celebrate tonight,” he whispers. “And we can do it properly. Does that sound good to you, darling?” 

You smile into his chest, your body melting into his. You’ve never thought anything sounded better. 

THE END. 

[hushedstarlight]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑷𝑨𝑺𝑻 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑭𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑶𝑾𝑺 𝒀𝑶𝑼

𝘐𝘕 𝘞𝘏𝘐𝘊𝘏 𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘕 𝘈𝘚 𝘊𝘖𝘜𝘕𝘊𝘐𝘓𝘖𝘙, 𝘚𝘌𝘝𝘐𝘒𝘈 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘌𝘚𝘊𝘈𝘗𝘌 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘉𝘙𝘜𝘛𝘈𝘓𝘐𝘛𝘠 𝘖𝘍 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙𝘊𝘐𝘛𝘠.

𝘊𝘖𝘜𝘕𝘊𝘐𝘓𝘖𝘙!𝘚𝘌𝘝𝘐𝘒𝘈 𝘟 𝘞𝘐𝘍𝘌!𝘔𝘊

𝘊𝘞: 𝘔𝘌𝘋𝘐𝘊𝘈𝘓 𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘔𝘐𝘕𝘖𝘓𝘖𝘎𝘠, 𝘊𝘈𝘕𝘖𝘕 𝘛𝘠𝘗𝘐𝘊𝘈𝘓 𝘝𝘐𝘖𝘓𝘌𝘕𝘊𝘌, 𝘗𝘖𝘚𝘛 𝘊𝘈𝘕𝘖𝘕, 𝘕𝘖 𝘚𝘗𝘖𝘐𝘓𝘌𝘙𝘚 𝘉𝘌𝘚𝘐𝘋𝘌𝘚 𝘚𝘌𝘝𝘐𝘒𝘈 𝘉𝘌𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘈 𝘊𝘖𝘜𝘕𝘊𝘐𝘓 𝘔𝘌𝘔𝘉𝘌𝘙, 𝘔𝘈𝘔𝘈 𝘉𝘌𝘈𝘙 𝘚𝘌𝘝𝘐𝘒𝘈, 𝘈𝘕𝘎𝘚𝘛, 𝘔𝘊 𝘋𝘖𝘌𝘚 𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘏𝘈𝘝𝘌 𝘈 𝘕𝘈𝘔𝘌 𝘚𝘖 𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘚 𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘠 𝘞𝘌𝘓𝘓 𝘊𝘖𝘜𝘓𝘋 𝘉𝘌 𝘐𝘕𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘗𝘙𝘌𝘛𝘌𝘋 𝘈𝘚 𝘈𝘕 𝘟 𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘍𝘐𝘊

𝘞𝘊: 1,358

𝘔.𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛

✧ councilor!sevika who loves her wife and daughter more than anything in the world.

✧ councilor!sevika who moved her family out of vaun some years after joining the council.

✧ councilor!sevika who leaves her office after long days and comes home to her fourteen year old babbling about everything under the sun, and even though she wants nothing more than to lay in bed with her lovely wife and sleep for an eternity, she listens to everything her kid has to say (she might fall asleep during it though).

✧ councilor!sevika who is informed during a council meeting that a small explosive went off at the cafe her wife frequented.

✧ councilor!sevika who rushes to the hospital, enforcer in tow, giving her all the information they know.

“it looks like the explosive went off just outside the window of the establishment. not too many people were hurt, but i…”

“you what? spit it out!”

“i… well i think your wife might’ve gotten the worst of it. i think this might’ve been a targeted attack.”

✧ councilor!sevika who shows up at the hospital demanding to see her wife.

✧ councilor!sevika who damn near throws up when the doctors tell her the extent of her wife’s injuries.

“when they found her, the wall had toppled over her. there were shards of glass in her skin from the window. her eardrums were ruptured and she is concussed. her ribs are broken and one of her lungs were punctured. she also has a globe rupture in her right eye. in most cases, those are somewhat easy to fix but i’m not too sure about this one, so i want to perform a vision test when she wakes up. as for her legs…”

“what? what about her legs?”

“well, as i mentioned before, the wall fell on top of her. the rubble, it… it crushed her legs. just below her upper thigh. honestly, it’s a miracle she’s alive.”

✧ councilor!sevika who, while she waits, sends a few enforcers to watch her daughter until she can get home.

✧ councilor!sevika who sprints when she’s finally allowed to see her wife.

✧ councilor!sevika who’s heart stops and feet falter when she sees the light of her life hooked up to the countless machines, the upper right half of her face wrapped in bandages and casts on both of her arms. the hospital blanket covers her from the waist down.

✧ councilor!sevika who chokes up when her left eye flutters open and round lips part.

“… ‘vika?”

“i’m here, doll. i’m right here.”

“where… where's my baby? is she… is she alright?”

“i sent some enforcers to watch her at home, she should be just fine.”

✧ councilor!sevika who watches her wife’s face flash with several emotions.

“what do you- what do you mean? why isn’t she here? she’s not hurt?”

“wha- what do you mean? wait. was she… was she with you?”

“yes, i… i think so? i don’t… i’m not sure. sevika, where’s my baby?”

✧ councilor!sevika who storms out the room just as the enforcers she sent to her home are running down the corridor toward her looking frantic.

“we went to your home, councilor. the housekeeper said your daughter left with your wife this morning. she isn’t there.”

✧ councilor!sevika who, for the next week, balances consoling her wife and trying to let the enforcers do their job. so far, all they’ve come to her with is the obvious: this was a targeted attack, someone from vaun was responsible, and her daughter was taken from the scene.

✧ councilor!sevika who breaks a little every time she has to tell her wife that they haven’t found their little girl.

✧ councilor!sevika who eventually takes it upon herself to find her kid.

✧ councilor!sevika who rolls her eyes and glares fiercely at the other council members when they try to talk her out of it.

“councilor sevika, we understand your pain, but it is in your best interest to just wait while the enforcers handle this. finding your daughter is priority.”

“shut the hell up and listen to what i’m saying. i’m telling you this as a courtesy; i am going find the son of a bitch that took my kid and hurt my wife, and i am going to kill them.”

✧ councilor!sevika who ventures into vaun everyday, armed with nothing but a pistol, going to every bar she can find. she knows whoever is dumb enough to pull the shit they pulled is dumb enough to gloat about it in some way, shape, or form.

✧ councilor!sevika who walks into a newly renovated bar three days into her own investigating and makes eye contact with the bartender who visibly cowers at the sight of the woman. bingo.

✧ councilor!sevika who gets in the bartender’s face, demanding to know everything they know.

“someone hurt my wife and took my kid. tell me what you know.”

✧ councilor!sevika who reaches forward and grab the bartender by the collar of their shirt when they hesitate. she grabs them by the back of their head and pushes them into the bar, their head hitting the surface hard.

“now.”

“i- some woman came in. a- a couple days ago! she- she said something about finally uh- about getting her closure! said you killed her brother and- and she was gonna get her lick back! she was mumbling a lot, really drunk! i- i swear that’s it!”

“where?!”

“i don’t know! i swear i’ve told you everything i know! please!”

✧ councilor!sevika who, two days later sees a flickering light coming from a mostly abandoned building. the same building she spent most of her days.

✧ councilor!sevika who takes two steps at a time to get to silco’s office, ignoring all the memories flooding her mind.

✧ councilor!sevika who doesn’t hesitate to kick the door down just as a woman is bringing a chainsaw down on her daughter who lays tied to silco’s desk, tears and snot running down her bruised and beaten face.

✧ councilor!sevika who doesn’t even stop to think and just pulls the gun from her waistband and shoots at the woman, the bullet piercing her wrist and causing the electric tool to fall and clatter on the floor.

✧ councilor!sevika who stalks over to the woman stumbling away from the desk and grabs her by the hair on her head, dragging her to the clear space in the room.

✧ councilor!sevika who slams the woman to the ground, and stares her in the face. all she sees is the anguish that’d been on her wife’s face for the past two weeks. and then she sees the fear that was on her daughters face when she barged into the office.

✧ councilor!sevika who blacks out as she drives her fist into the woman’s face over and over and over again until she can’t hear the woman’s pleas. and then she continues to punch the woman in the face.

✧ councilor!sevika who doesn’t stop until she registers her girl crying for her mama, the woman in front of her no longer even recognizable as a person.

✧ councilor!sevika who staggers over to the desk to untie her daughter, face and fist covered in blood that didn’t belong to her.

✧ councilor!sevika who is still running on adrenaline, but immediately comes down when her daughter flinches as she approaches her.

“hey, i’m not gonna hurt you. you’re okay, i’m gonna get you home, hon. everything’s gonna be okay.”

✧ councilor!sevika who has to carry her daughter down the stairs and through vaun because she holds onto her so tightly (realistically she wouldn’t have let her walk even if she wanted to).

✧ councilor!sevika who is overcome with so many emotions as she tells her wife that their daughter is safe.

“after they make sure everything is okay, they’re gonna move you two into a recovery room together. that way i can keep an eye on both of you.”

✧ councilor!sevika who, as she holds her weeping wife, thinks about the fact that she came this close to losing everything and can’t help but cry into her wife’s shoulder.

𝘚𝘐𝘟 𝘍𝘌𝘌𝘛 𝘛𝘈𝘓𝘓 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘚𝘜𝘗𝘌𝘙 𝘚𝘛𝘙𝘖𝘕𝘎 (*/∇＼*) 𝘺'𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘬𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘳𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦. 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰, 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 "𝘍𝘌𝘌𝘋 𝘔𝘌!" 𝘣𝘺 @uhlunaro. 𝘪 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘭 (𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 18+). 𝘪 𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘬𝘢 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦. 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘢'𝘥. 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦n𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘬? 𝘣𝘪𝘪𝘪𝘪 (≧∇≦)/

— 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯

[thebigbadbatswife]

Beneath The Mistletoe

Pairing - Bruce Wayne x F!Reader x Selina Kyle

Summary - Selina and Bruce corner you beneath the mistletoe.

Warnings - Public Displays of Affection, Christmas Fluff, Suggestive Themes, Humour, Bisexual!Reader

Word Count - 800

Wayne Manor was cast in a golden glow from the various twinkling lights that currently decorated the place. Along with the lights were the decorations that you would expect to see in a billionaire’s home. Gold, silver, red. Nothing overly gaudy, but still screamed rich. And there was the tree in the entrance hall. Its size completely surreal and was decorated in a very orderly and traditional way. A similar one was set up within the main ballroom as well.

It was all for show. Something for the “official” Bruce Wayne Christmas party that was thrown each and every year without fail.

The real decorations were deeper within the manor. Set up in one of the lounges. A tree decorated by the boys. It was messy and chaotic and perfect. All at once. A fake pine garland along the top of the mantle of a fireplace that had a low flame flickering within it. And none of those gaudy hanging decorations are anywhere to be seen. 

The lounge wasn’t filled with strangers either. Friends and family only. This was the real Christmas party. One that wasn’t going to end up in every magazine and news website across the planet. Where everyone was made jealous of the luxury that came from a billionaire’s bank account.

There was no need to dress fancy either. Though ugly Christmas jumpers were mandatory, per Dick’s request. Which was fine by everyone, but Bruce. Who looked grumpy and kept pulling at the neck, scratching his skin, where it was irritating him. Though, in true Bruce fashion, it was a Batman themed one. He likely wasn’t hating this as much as he was making out he was.

Seeing everyone in one room together made you smile. With all the near disasters that kept almost befalling the planet and the city you called home, it was hard to get everyone in the same room.

You sipped on the eggnog in your snifter glass, humming softly. It was thicky and creamy and delicious. One of these days you were going to have to beg Alfred to tell you the recipe.

“Well, what do we have here?” Selina asked as she approached you. She was wearing a sweater that had the image of a cat tangled in christmas lights. It was very her. 

You raised an eyebrow at her. What was she on about? 

She smiled, amused at your confusion. Her eyes looked above you before returning to your own. You looked above you and chuckled when you saw it. Mistletoe. Dammit. You had been doing a good job all night avoiding it. Now Selina had you cornered. She took a step forward. You attempted to take a step backwards (it was all part of the game), but your back came into contact with a solid chest, which stopped you in your tracks. There was no need for you to turn around to see who it was. You already knew. 

Bruce. 

They were teaming up against you.

“You know, mistletoe can be deadly if you eat,” he said. Both of his hands came to rest on your hips and pulled you against him. 

She hummed and stepped into your space. “Yes, but a kiss can be even deadlier, if you mean it.”

Your cheeks felt impossible hot. They were going to be the death of you. You were sure of it. Bruce’s lips brushed against your ear, sending a shiver up your spine.

“It’s just a couple of kisses. Then we’ll let you go.”

But it never was a “couple of kisses”. Two would turn into four and four would turn into eight. Before you knew it they would have you wrapped up in the silk sheets of the custom bed Bruce had had built for the three of you. Not that you ever complained. You trusted them completely.

“Fine,” you replied, accepting your fate and surrendering yourself to your lovers.

Selina kissed your first. It was far more sensual than a kiss beneath the mistletoe should be. You sighed softly when she pulled away. Your lips weren’t left alone for long. Bruce turned your head to him and kissed you. Even going as far as to push his tongue into your mouth, caressing your tongue with his own. Your moan was barely audible. Only Selina and Bruce were able to hear it. 

“Get a room you three!” Hal called out. There were a few chuckles and laughs that followed. If it was possible for your cheeks to get even hotter, they definitely did.

And Bruce decided to make it so much worse.

“I think Hal’s right for once. Perhaps we should go up to our room.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, they were immediately followed by the sounds of Dick and Jason fake gagging and retching.

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤGIRLS LIKE GIRLS AND BOYS * CHRIS STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where Y/N goes through a journey of self-discovery when questioning her sexuality, leading to her feeling fear of losing Chris.

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x bi!reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　mentions of homophobia.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Y/N found herself in a moment of deep introspection, a journey of self-discovery that led her to confront truths that had long been kept within her.

Sitting in her favorite armchair, in her cozy bedroom lit only by the soft light of a bedside lamp, she found herself immersed in tumultuous thoughts.

Since a few months ago, something inside her had started to change. Small sparks of doubt had turned into an uncontrollable fire of questioning. Y/N, who had always considered herself heterosexual, now found herself slipping through the choppy waters of sexual uncertainty.

It was difficult to name exactly when it all started. Maybe it was that long look at the pretty girl who crossed her path in the cafe, or maybe it was the sudden intensity of feelings she felt while watching a romantic movie in which the protagonist couple were two girls.

These experiences, seemingly insignificant at the moment, now echoed within her like a deafening echo. And the more Y/N tried to ignore these feelings, the more intense they became, like a relentless tide that was dragging her towards the truth she wasn't ready to accept.

She looked at Chris, a kind and caring boy who had won her heart a few years ago. They were inseparable, sharing big dreams, secrets, and plans for a future together. But now, an abyss opened between them, an abyss fueled by the confusion and fear that Y/N carried within her.

The fear of rejection, of judgment, of change. She didn't want to hurt her boyfriend, but she also couldn't deny her growing awareness of her own identity. She wondered if he would be able to accept her completely. Would he still love her the same way when he knew the truth about her sexuality?

Y/N found herself tormented by vivid images of an uncertain future, where she was alone. She feared that revealing her bisexuality would trigger a chain reaction of events that would lead to their inevitable breakup.

She found herself turning over scenarios in her mind, rehearsing the words she would need to say to Chris, but never finding enough courage to truly face her truth.

The nights became long and lonely as Y/N spiraled into self-questioning. She read articles, sought answers in the far reaches of the internet, and desperately tried to fit into a clear definition of who she was.

She lost count of how many times she watched the video on her boyfriend and his brothers' channel, where Nick told his story of coming out to his family, trying to find some direction or inspiration.

Until she understood that there was no point in remaining closed off like she was doing. Chris was increasingly worried, filling her with questions when they were together and messages when they were away, while Nick and Matt tried to understand the situation and help both sides - that of a best friend and that of a brother.

And seeing the desperation in Chris's eyes again when he facetimed her that morning - while on his way to a photoshoot with Matt - made her finally make the decision to seek real help.

And who better to do this than Nick, who was openly gay and had gone through his own journey of self-discovery?

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

With her heart racing, Y/N knocked on Nick's bedroom door after entering the triplets' house with her own key. She wondered if she was doing the right thing by seeking his guidance, but an insistent inner voice was pushing her forward, telling her it was time to confront her fears and uncertainties head on.

Nick opened the door with an excited smile, having already been notified minutes before through a text message that she was on her way, his welcoming eyes conveying an instant sense of comfort. He opened the door wider, giving Y/N space to enter, turning around and returning to his gaming chair, Y/N finding herself surrounded by the relaxed atmosphere instantly.

"Hey girl!" Nick greeted, his voice carrying a tone of euphoria. "What do you want to do today?"

Y/N swallowed, feeling a lump form in her throat. Nick probably thought she had gone to his house to spend time together - which wasn't a lie - completely unaware of the matter at hand.

"Actually, I need to talk to you about something important." Y/N began, her voice wavering with built-up tension as she walked with shaky steps towards the bed. "It's about.. my sexuality."

Nick nodded understandingly, pointing to the mattress with his chin, inviting her to sit there, and turning his body on the chair so that he was facing her. He quickly sent her a compassionate look, encouraging her to continue.

"I've been... thinking lately." The girl continued, carefully choosing her words. "And I think I'm... bisexual."

A wave of relief swept over Y/N as she finally voiced the truth she had been keeping inside herself for so long. Nick smiled gently, looking genuinely happy for her.

"Oh my God, this is amazing, Y/N!" Nick's voice was overflowing with support and encouragement. "Discovering and accepting your true sexuality is an incredibly brave step, I'm so proud of you!"

Y/N felt tears of gratitude bubble up in her eyes. She could never have imagined such a positive and loving reaction, despite him not being heterosexual himself.

"Thank you, Nick..." She sniffled, wiping the tears from her eyes in a quick movement, letting out a low laugh. "But I'm... I'm scared to tell Chris." Y/N said, her eyes lowering to her thighs and her voice cracking with anxiety. "I don't know how he will react, and I'm so afraid of losing him."

Nick sighed, getting up from his seat and walking over to his bed before sitting next to the girl, pulling her into a big hug and resting his head on top of hers, conveying a feeling of calm and security.

“Y/N, I understand this is scary.” He began, his voice soft like a comforting whisper. "But if there's one thing I've learned on my own journey, it's that being true to yourself is the most important thing we can do. And if Chris truly loves you, he will accept you for who you are, no matter your sexual orientation."

Nick's words echoed in Y/N's mind, filling her with courage and determination. She knew that she could no longer postpone the moment of coming out to Chris, he was one of the most important people in her life - if not the most important - and keeping that from him was being a martyrdom for her.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N's heart hammered hard against her chest as she prepared to take the bravest step of all: telling Chris about her bisexual identity.

She found herself in front of him, in her own room, watching him with a mixture of nervousness and determination while searching for the right words to express what she was feeling.

Chris looked back at her with his extremely blue eyes carrying gentle and loving emotions, his face lit up with a warm smile that always made Y/N's heart melt. He held her right hand, conveying a comforting sense of silent support.

"What is happening, gorgeous?" Chris asked softly, his voice thick with concern. "You said you needed to talk to me, and you seem nervous. Did I do something?"

Y/N's eyes widened at his deduction, shaking her head quickly.

"No! No, of course not, baby." She took a deep breath, gathering all the courage she had within herself. "It's just... There's something I need to tell you." Y/N began, her voice trembling slightly as her breath came raggedly, her cold fingers trembling between his. "It's about my... sexuality."

Chris's eyes widened slightly in surprise, he hadn't really expected the conversation to be about that - the possibility hadn't even crossed his mind - but he remained silent, waiting for Y/N to continue.

"I've been struggling with this for some time." The girl continued after a few seconds, carefully choosing her words. "And I realized that... I'm bisexual."

The silence that followed seemed to echo around them, filling the space between the two with palpable tension. Y/N held her breath, waiting for Chris's reaction, her heart beating wildly and her posture falling almost automatically, as if a weight was put on her shoulders.

And then, finally, Chris broke the silence. His eyes ran over Y/N's features with a gaze full of love and understanding, a tender smile curving his lips.

"Oh my baby, I have no words to describe the honor of you sharing this with me. Thank you for trusting me." His voice sounded soft like a comforting whisper. "I want you to know that I love you exactly the way you are, and nothing will change that... I'm so proud of you!"

Tears of relief and gratitude welled up in Y/N's eyes as she threw herself into her boy's welcoming arms, feeling overwhelmed by an overwhelming wave of love and acceptance, a sob escaping her lips.

"I was so scared of losing you." Y/N admitted, her voice cracking from crying. "You really are the love of my life, huh?" She let out a tearful laugh, wiping away the lone tear that rolled down her cheek.

Chris hugged her back tightly, pulling her into his lap in a quick movement and wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing their chests together and burying his head in the crook of her neck, enveloping her in a comforting warmth that seemed to melt away all her worries and fears.

The boy sealed the exposed skin gently before pulling away slightly, cupping her face gently in his hands, looking into her eyes with an intensity that made Y/N's heart flutter.

"Princess, I'll always be here for you, no matter what." Chris revealed, his voice filled with silent promises. "You are the light of my life, and I will do everything in my power to make you happy."

Chris' words echoed in Y/N's heart, filling her with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love. She felt infinitely blessed to have found someone so incredibly loving and understanding to share her life with.

And in that moment, as they hugged each other tightly, Y/N knew that no matter what the future held, she was right where she belonged: in the arms of the man who loved her unconditionally, regardless of who she was or who she loved. And with that came a feeling of peace and wholeness that she knew would last forever.

© vanteguccir

[loganhowlettshousewife]

both.

logan howlett x bisexual!reader / (pre-poolverine x bisexual!reader)

summary: the worst wolverine comes from a universe very different from this one. a universe where things aren't as great for queer people. so naturally, he panics when you ask him if he has a crush on his roommate.

warnings: fem!reader, swearing, mentions of homophobia, self-hatred/internalised homophobia from logan, logan has a crush on wade and reader does too

series masterlist - my masterlist

golden light streams through the windows, only occasionally broken by a shadow when a particularly strong breeze passes by, making the curtains dance. you’re cuddled up in bed with logan, bodies pressed together, a tangled mess of limbs, your legs thrown over his lap, a book long abandoned at your side - you find it much more interesting to trace the lines of his face with your eyes, memorising him.

you’re passing the same words over in your mind, rephrasing them, hoping to find a good way to broach the topic. it’s not a conversation one typically has with their boyfriend, so there’s no preset script to follow, nothing to use as a guide. you worry at your bottom lip, and logan reaches up to pull it out from between your teeth the way he often does when you succumb to the bad habit. it’s the kind of ease shared by couples who have been together for years - it shouldn’t be this easy, this comfortable after a mere few months with logan, but somehow it is.

he knows something is bothering you, you’re not particularly adept at hiding it, but he’s allowing you the silence to find your words, even if it’s not at this moment or today or even this week, because you always tell him eventually.

“you’re very close with wade,” you say at last, deciding to gently approach the subject, as if dealing with a frightened animal, no sudden movements or sounds.

“i guess,” he grumbles in response. their dynamic is interesting, a constant back and forth, forever toeing the line between teasing and genuine arguing, the fighting - both physical and verbal - acting as a release of tension for the both of them. when you’d first met logan, he had been adamant that wade was merely an annoyance that refused to leave him alone, but he’s reached a point where he can semi-comfortably admit that he enjoys their relationship. 

you’re hoping this won’t destroy what’s between them, the precious understanding found in each other, an understanding that no one else will ever be able to give them. both cursed in similar ways, bodies healing from every injury, (mostly, probably) unable to die, craving violence and revenge against the world that has already taken so much.

“i don’t know how else to ask this. normally, i can find the right words eventually but it’s not really about me.” you continue, forewarning him that the line of questioning is abnormal, “do you like wade?”

the world stops for a moment; logan freezes in your arms, his whole body tense like an elastic on the verge of snapping, his eyes devoid of the soft happiness that had been aimed at you not even two minutes ago. you can practically see him rebuilding the walls you��d worked so hard to break down, his old emotionless mask sliding onto his face.

“why the fuck would you ask that?” his voice isn’t low the way it is when he’s genuinely angry, when his temper gets the better of him, when the natural predator that lives inside logan comes alive. it’s higher, a sign that there’s more than plain anger causing him to react this way.

you’ve seen logan in many states, several of which were terrible: covered in blood, clothes tattered from a fight, absolutely wasted out of his mind, furious. but this is new, anger and upset and pain and hurt and guilt, you can see so many different emotions flashing in his eyes, changing too fast for you to decipher any of it.

he pulls out of your arms, stumbling out of bed in his haste, pulling on a stray pair of jeans that had been left on the floor last night in your haste to pull him into bed with you. the empty air beside you is freezing, the loss of logan’s body heat palpable. you know about logan’s tendency to run, to leave when he felt too much, but he’d never before done it with you.

“logan-” you try to say, sitting up in bed, blankets a mess around you, your relationship seemingly in a similar state.

he’s shrugging on a shirt and sliding out the door before you can come up with the words to ask him what’s going on, to ask him to stay. he stops at the door of your bedroom, and for a moment you wonder if he’s changed his mind.

“don’t bring that shit up again,” he growls, “i’m not like that.”

the thing is, you’re quite certain logan is like that, as he’d put it. you’ve noticed his gaze catching on attractive men on occasion, lingering a little too long to pass as anything other than what it is. you don’t mind - being in a relationship doesn’t suddenly make you blind to the other attractive people in the world, and they’re always fleeting glances. when he looks at you it’s with a single-minded focus that had slightly scared you in the beginning, an intensity that read as if you were the only person in the world to him.

it’s most noticeable around wade, not that you can blame logan for falling for wade’s eccentric charm when you’d done the same. it’s endearing to watch him, flustered and simultaneously pissed at himself for having that reaction when the merc flirts with him, making his quips a little sharper than usual, though wade always knows how to respond.

(one might think that wade doesn’t know how to respond to logan’s irritation, since many conversations between them descend into bloodshed, but the truth is that when wade says the wrong thing, it’s often on purpose. he knows which buttons to push to get logan truly riled up, and he thinks it’s hot when logan stabs him.)

and besides, you doubt someone truly straight would have that extreme of a reaction to the question, the insinuation made with it. maybe he’d have been disgusted, made a few comments about how he’s only into women, potentially also sharing a few borderline-homophobic quips, but running away? that signals fear.

you can’t go to wade, not willing to break logan’s trust. you’re not in the business of outing people, though you strongly believe wade already knows. he may act like an idiot and jump headfirst into dangerous situations without considering the consequences, but he’s observant, he has to be in order to be so good at his job.

it’s also very likely that logan has gone to wade’s place. there are really only three places where logan spends his time: wade’s (and technically logan’s, though he refuses to really acknowledge that) place, your apartment, and a very specific shady bar - though he’s tried to cut back on drinking lately.

you stay home all day, lingering in the apartment, hoping logan will return. you clean the entire house top to bottom, restless energy manifesting in a need to keep moving, keep doing anything to distract yourself from the way your blood feels like it’s buzzing in your veins. afterwards, you sit on the couch of your newly cleaned apartment and stare blankly at the tv as an episode of your favourite show plays.

you’re lost in your mind when logan does eventually return, barely able to hear the show over the rushing tidal wave of your thoughts. you’re startled out of your reverie by the sound of the door shutting, the shuffling of logan removing his boots, the clang of his keys in the small bowl you keep on a hall table by the entry.

he joins you in the living room, settling down on the couch opposite you, not touching but close enough to offer the comfort of his presence. your knees are tucked to your chest in your attempt to keep to yourself, a blanket pulled tightly around you, unsure which boundaries are in place during a moment such as this one.

“i’m sorry,” you say before he has the chance to speak, “i shouldn’t have ambushed you with a question like that. i just want you to know that i really didn’t mean anything negative by it.”

logan sighs, a pained sound, “i shouldn’t’ve left. i wanted to call you after, but i left my phone here. i’m still not used to having one.”

“why did you run, logan?” you ask, “i need to know what part of the question caused your reaction. was it the implication that you like guys? or wade specifically? or just anyone that isn’t me? because i wasn’t accusing you of cheating.”

his hands clench into fists, tightening and letting go, repeating the motion as a method of self-soothing that isn’t violence. he wants to bring out the claws, so used to being able to fight his way out of difficult situations. it’s been a long time since he’s dealt with his problems in a way that didn’t spill blood and his emotions through anything other than a bottle. communication isn’t his best trait.

“it’s different here than in my universe,” he tells you eventually, “i’d be killed if anyone found out i was-”

he stops, doesn’t say the word. he doesn’t have to, you can put the pieces together yourself.

so you wring your hands in your blanket, feeling the texture between your fingers, trying to shake off the nervous energy that always washes over you when you have to come out to someone, no matter how many times you’ve said it before or how sure you are that they’ll have a positive reaction.

“i am,” you say, “i’m bisexual. i like both. wade’s pansexual. he likes everyone, doesn’t care about gender as long as they’re hot and a little bit crazy, is what he told me. if you’re queer in some way, that’s great, and if you’re not that’s okay too. but you won’t be killed here logan, it’s legal. yeah, some people are still homophobic, you get looks or comments, but it’s largely accepted, at least in america.”

he leans across the barrier of space between your bodies, breaking the metaphorical line you’d drawn in the sand to pull you into his arms. he kisses the top of your head, his breathing shaky. he’s trembling, so lightly that you wouldn’t notice it if you weren’t holding him so tightly, his distress invisible to the eye.

“both.” is what he whispers in the sliver of air that still separates your mouths before kissing you deeply. it’s as much of an admission as you’re going to get. you don’t expect logan to become comfortable with his sexuality immediately, so used to the hiding and the guilt and the fear.

unlearning habits is hard, terribly so, and yet he’d managed to speak it into existence for you to hear. you return his kiss with equal passion, hoping to convey how proud you are of him, how nothing has changed between you, he’s still your logan, your stoic and dramatic boyfriend from a different universe that somehow stumbled into your life.

your lips meld together, soft and sensual, passionate but not rushed. it won’t lead to anything further, not tonight, not when you’re both still recovering from your respective emotionally challenging days. the tension you’d held onto all day, worried that you’d ruined the best thing in your life, falls apart under logan’s touch.

you hope your touch does the same for him, that with every brush of your hands in his hair he recalls your words, that he physically feels your adoration for him in the way you press your bodies together.

“but really, do you like wade?”

he groans, his flushed face the only answer you need. he’s not ready to do anything about his crush yet, can’t even say the words aloud, but you know and wade knows and logan knows. you’ll get there eventually, and you know the wait will be worth it in the end.

diversity december taglist: @raeinyourdreams @meetmypointlessaddiction @chubbyhedgehog @yxtkiwiyxt @isepod @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes @deaky-with-a-c

bisexual reader: @spencerswh0r3

[neowinestainedress]

between us — johnny suh

title: between us

pairing: professor!johnny x lawyer!oc x fem!reader | husband!johnny x wife!oc x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself tangled in the life of the Suhs after Mr. Suh starts working as an English professor at your father’s university. You don’t understand why they float around you so much, but soon enough, you can’t get enough of that secret, dirty game anymore.

genre: smut, fluff, plot, mxfxf, married couple, established relationship, age gap, bisexual characters, aged up johnny (to his early 30)

warnings: age gap, daddy/mommy issues, smut, sexual tension, 3some, mxfxf, dom/sub dynamics, mdom, fdom(oc), fsub(reader), mentions of s*x toys, unprotected s*x, pet names (honey, babe, doll...), or*l s*x (reader receiving and fem giving), fing*ring (reader receiving and fem giving), n!pple play, dirty talk, praise, minor degradation, size k!nk, 1 face slap, 1 *ss slap, 1 cl!t slap, hair pulling, talks of face f*cking, dp and face sitting, sub space, overstimulation, reader goes non-verbal at the end, aftercare | inclusivity notes: reader’s hair can be grabbed bc i’m degenerated and needed to write hair pulling during or*l, there are no descriptions of the texture and type tho, reader wears hair in different hairstyles (not specified), reader feels small because she’s shorter than them and in general feels ‘intimidated’ (body type is not specified), no use of y/n

visuals

wc: 16.590k

a/n: i’m sure this isn’t what people were expecting when i talked about writing mxfxf, but what can i say, this idea came to me and i had to write it. at first, it was supposed to be less complicated, just hot steamy sex with two hot almost-dilf-and-milf but you know me by now, if it’s not deep and complicated we don’t write it here. disclaimer: they are all bi and this is not just a straight couple using a bisexual person to spice up their s*xual life, i can’t say more because i don’t want to spoil anything but i just wanted to make this clear. i hope you’ll enjoy, if you do please leave feedback with asks or reblog (so the story reaches more people) also this is the first time i write smut between two women so please let me know if it’s good!! love u ♡

The Suhs are by now a known presence in your life. Since Mr. Suh started teaching at your father’s university, it became almost impossible to not see him for more than two days straight.

You don’t feel like blaming your father. Actually, you get it. Mr. Suh is a charming, brilliant man in his early thirties. After years of studying and being an assistant, he started teaching English literature at another prestigious university, the one your father is president of. And in his free time —and you wonder how he did that— he even wrote a few books, the first ones being analyses of writers’ works, and then a successful mystery novel.

You like him, even if he intimidates you a bit. He’s a person you can have interesting conversations with, maybe too interesting. You can’t understand what hides behind his elegant attire; either suits and ties or brown pants and polos or vests, his brown hair is always pulled back, only occasionally some loose strands fall on his forehead and make him appear less put together. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him dressed casually, or crack a joke, but then again, it’s not really your place to know.

But Mr. Suh, also known as Johnny, is never alone when he comes to your parents’ house, or tags along at dinners, parties, and more, anything that your father likes to organize with his academic clique.

His wife, Aaliyah Taylor Suh, is always with him. She’s not less interesting or intimidating than him. Mrs. Suh is a drop-dead gorgeous woman in her early thirties like her husband. She’s an amazing lawyer, working at one of the top firms in the city, and probably that’s also why she comes off as piercing to you, it’s like she always knows what to say and do, and you struggle to keep up. And just like her husband, it’s also in the way she presents herself; she’s always perfect with her long goddess braids that reach her waist which is always perfectly hugged by the beautiful, expensive suits or dresses she wears.

This should pretty much sum up why you don’t talk much with them, even if they’re nice —at least it seems from the few conversations you had— you don’t feel at their level. Not only do they look like gods in your eyes, but they also fit the perfect stereotype of the rich, powerful couple that makes heads turn around every time they walk into a room —yours included— and the small, yet significant, age gap only makes it worse.

It would be easier to talk with them if your father wouldn’t constantly remind you that. He always had a passion to turn you and your dreams down, but since they are part of your life, it only worsened. Your father never misses the occasion to point your flaws out; how clumsy you are, walking around and stumbling on your own feet, dropping things every now and then, and messing up your words during speeches. Instead, he’s amazed by their brains and how quickly they became successful, they spent years on books and still never lost each other and found time to get married, they accomplished everything you haven’t, and it seems impossible for him to not slam it in your face.

And you agree, partially. You envy them. They seem to always be at the right place, at the right time, never saying a word wrong, and always looking straight out of Vogue. You’re also jealous of their love, you don’t know what a stable relationship looks like —not that you care to know, nobody your age seems to be doing it for you— unlike their stable, lasting marriage that is the deal closing off a just as long period of dating. They were high-school sweethearts, and you envy the way they still look at each other. Nobody ever looked at you like that, as if you meant the world to them. And you don’t understand how they survived all these years, you almost went insane during college, the two relationships you tried to have failed like a ship sinking in a storm. And now that you’re free, you’re still suffering the aftermath of all the stress you’ve been through. 

So you struggle to understand why they circle around you like moths to a flame.

It all started months ago. At first, it was only longing gazes, you could always feel them on you, and you always thought that there was something wrong with you; your make-up smudged, your hair out of place, your clothes dirty or crumpled up, but, even if you weren’t like them, there was nothing wrong with you.

Then, one night, things started to make more sense.

It was late, around 10 pm. As much as you couldn’t stand your father, you tried to tag along as much as possible to find some connections career-wise. You could’ve asked him a favour —doubting he would do it— but you had no intention of making him take credit for your future. You preferred talking with his academic friends or critics on your own, it hadn’t been successful yet, but you won’t give up.

You were standing in the kitchen, a glass in hand as you tried to drown in the alcohol and forget every word you had heard from your father when Mr. Suh approached you first.

“Tiring, isn’t it?” Mr. Suh’s voice brought you back to reality. His build, tall form leaning against the fridge as he stared at you with a small smirk on his face, his hair was falling a bit more freely since the gel had given up after the whole night —day, you’d dare to say, you’re not so sure he had time to go back home and get ready for this dinner again.

You tried not to get lost in his beauty and swiftly hummed, nodding. “Yeah, but at least the wine is good.”

Mr. Suh snickered, starting to walk over to you, a hand in his hair as he shook it back. “Pinot?”

Your eyes moved up in his, he was standing so close you could feel his breath hit your face, and you struggled to find the words. Throat dry and hands so sweaty you were sure you would’ve dropped the glass on the ground. “Yeah, Pinot, or at least, I think so,” you mumbled, giggling awkwardly as you looked down and took a step back, trying to put some distance between you two.

“Can I have a taste?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, his piercing gaze staring right into your soul.

You should’ve told him that surely there were some glasses left outside, or maybe opted to take a look in the wine rack behind him, but you didn’t, and your hand moved to his almost right away.

You watched him smile in a ‘thank you,’ before his lips met the glass, alcohol pouring down his throat, a bit too messily for his usual put-together act, a drop dripping on his chin against his tan skin.

Mr. Suh smiled, humming happily as he handed the —almost empty— glass back to you. “As imagined, my favourite,” he winked.

“Oh, good — good. I — I like it too,” you slurred, panicking and feeling so small. And guilty because something about all of this felt so wrong and dirty and you immediately thought of Mrs. Taylor. Was Johnny flirting or were you too horny to think straight? They were a perfect couple, they couldn’t be cheating, right?

So, you scrolled your head, and said goodbye to him, quickly walking out of the room with the excuse ‘you were sure your father was looking for you’ but in reality, you just needed a breath of fresh air.

Unfortunately, it didn’t stop there. You would find yourself alone with Mr. Suh more than you wished to, and he was always so subtle with everything that you started to think you were going insane. He couldn’t have possibly brushed his hand against yours as he walked by your side to go to his wife, right? And he couldn’t have willingly rested a hand on your lower back when he walked behind you, trying to make way to get to your father? And why would he call you ‘honey’ with that sweet, intoxicating, slightly condescending tone, and only when you two were alone? His voice was always sensual, but you could swear it would drop even lower when he had you alone in the kitchen or in the library you spent some much time in, lecturing you about some poem or book, watching as you hung from his lips.

Anyway, you thought you could deal with it, you would only see him when your dad invited them, and even if it was a lot, you could stick with your mother —a slightly more likeable presence to you that wasn’t best friend with the Suhs.

Things worsened when Mrs. Suh started talking to you. The first, serious, conversation was about a pretty boring thing, some case she was working on. But there was something in the way she talked to you, laughing as she dismissed the conversation and simply stared into your eyes before asking to talk about yourself. Unlike her husband, she was curious, almost as if she wanted to get deep into you and discover things you probably didn’t even know about yourself.

And you froze. You had nothing to say. Everything that came to your mind was either too boring or too wild to be known to her.

“So? Too many secrets to hide?” She joked, showing you her pearly white teeth before winking.

“No, uhm,” you mumbled, trying to find the words, but losing them again when your eyes fell on her hands, golden jewellery shining on her fingers as they wrapped around the flute so delicately and yet sensually before she brought the glass to her full lips tinted with dark purple. Your head snapped up, trying to control your breath and not show the erratic movements of your chest, and squeezing your thighs together for some reason. “I’m working. Yes, busy working and trying to survive my dad.” Busy. You wrote for a small magazine online that paid you dust; reason why you were back living with your parents and kept writing your book, hoping to finish it and publish it one day and get the chance to be as far as possible from that house.

She smirked, and you could see it wasn’t because she was happy with your answer but almost as if she was having the time of her life at the way you were acting. “So, work and dad make you, you?”

“No,” you replied right away, slightly offended too. “I thought we were talking about… about things… happening now.”

A low chuckle rolled out of her lips, “I’d love to get to know you better, you know? Your family is so outgoing, they can’t keep anything in, but you…” she paused, eyes looking at you up and down, “you’re so secretive, reserved, like a candy to unwrap.”

You gulped, fearing she had the wrong idea about you and her husband and was planning a way to kill you. Aaliyah wasn’t stupid, of course she had seen the way Johnny talked to you and, worse, the way you reacted. She was also a lawyer, a brilliant one, you doubt some of her clients were even innocent and yet they got away with everything, she could stand up for herself in court, and Johnny would find a poetic way to get rid of your body and turn this into the plot of his next success.

“I… I…”

“You should spend some time with us,” she said, smiling, crossing her legs and moving her braids behind, showing her cleavage, “you know, at our place, alone. No family getting in the way, no father painting you bad. Just adults having fun.”

“Oh,” you gasped, gulping as you felt the air in your lungs disappear. “Sure, I’d love to.” But the truth is, you wouldn’t survive being alone with them.

“Beautiful dress, by the way,” she complimented, getting up and walking past you, “shows all the right curves.”

That was the start of everything. Unfortunately, she had no intention of killing you. Instead, she seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you better, saving you from your father by engaging in conversations with you when you were all at the same table, asking what you liked, and mostly, complimenting you. At first, it could’ve been mistaken for a ‘girls support girls’ kind of moment, but quickly you started to perceive something else. Her looks, her touches and her words weren’t any different than Mr. Suh’s ones, so lingering, so secretive, and teasing, feeling like a breeze that taunts your skin with a sense of relief that’s never meant to come.

Two months have passed since that moment, and your plans of keeping the distance crumble apart when you find yourself alone with them.

It’s not the first time, but you feel today might be more difficult to deal with. Your father is stuck with an idea of you from when you were five years old and in constant need of supervision, or else you can’t explain why he almost treats them as your babysitters.

‘We’ll be out today, look after her,’ these are the words your father exclaims before walking out of the Villa he owned on this lake abandoned by God, your mother already at the car parked in the driveway.

You’re not a child but you surely act like one, rolling your eyes and letting out a loud grunt before puffing out air.

Mr. Suh laughs, humming lowly before turning to you. “You’re still a child in his eyes, aren’t you? His sweet, innocent, little baby.”

That comment shouldn’t have had any effect on you, yet, it does. It feels like he is implying something else, it’s clear in his tone and especially his eyes. But you shake it off, laughing before replying ‘yes,’ and then running up the stairs with a faint goodbye. You hear Mrs. Taylor say something, probably asking you to stay, but you pretend you don’t hear and disappear into your room.

You can avoid them only for so long before you don’t know what to do anymore and decide to go downstairs —terrible decision.

You think they left, so you walk outside to read a book under the porch and enjoy a cold lemonade, but when you step into the garden you see them by the pool.

Aaliyah is laughing tenderly at Johnny who’s dancing on the trampoline, winking at her before jumping in the pool, splashing water around, making her turn around and cover her face more with the large floppy hat she’s wearing.

You feel like dying, this is not how you want to see them, and you have to force your eyes up, not making them fall on her ass. You’re still in time to go back, just one step behind and you can go upstairs as if nothing happened, but you’re not quick enough.

“Hey,” Mr. Suh greets you. “We were hoping you would join us,” he smiles at you, walking out of the pool by the stairs, scrolling the water out of his hair before pushing it behind.

You gulp, which is the only thing you can do to try to water your throat —and more embarrassingly, don’t moan at the sight of his sculpted body. And then you smile, a tight forced smile as you still stand like a statue. “Oh, I won’t join you, I just wanted to read.”

Mrs. Suh snickers and you watch her turn around to stand out of the pool, strong arms lifting her body up —and only now you realize that she’s pretty ripped too, the soft curves complimented by the signed abs, toned arms, and thighs.

“You go to the gym together?” Dumbly slips out of your mouth and by the time you cover it with your hands it’s already too late, but the comment makes them smile.

“You pay attention to details, don’t you?” She asks, clicking her tongue and smirking. She then takes the hat off, letting the braids fall on her back before she sits on the round table, pulling a chair out to gesture you to take a seat. “And I don’t train as much as he does, prefer pilates actually.”

“Oh,” you reply, momentarily bringing your attention to Johnny who’s now sitting on the other chair, leaving you the seat in the middle. “Heard is good for the body, nice choice.”

“Are you going to sit, or do we have to drag you here?” Mr. Suh jokes, head pointing at the empty space between them.

You shake your head, looking down as you take a deep breath and force your legs to work. You can do that, you just have to sit in the middle of the hottest couple you’ve ever laid eyes on and that for some reason loves to tease you, you’ll be fine.

“See, it wasn’t that hard,” she says when your ass touches the chair, book and lemonade resting in front of you on the round table.

“So, enjoying your break?” Johnny asks and then throws his hair back to scroll some more water out, but that makes you lose your focus and gulp nervously.

“Yeah, needed a vacation. Would be better if it wasn’t with my father,” you add, looking down.

She chuckles. “You two really don’t get along. Poor thing, he doesn’t get you, does he?”

You hesitate to reply, 1) you don’t get if she’s mocking you and 2) you wouldn’t care because the way she called you poor thing makes you feel things.

“He thinks I’m a child. I mean, he treats you like babysitters, I’m an adult,” you reply when your brain starts working again, and sadness fills your expression.

“Sure you are,” Johnny adds, chuckling, and you frown. “Sorry, it’s just funny that when you get mad at him, you act a bit childlike. Teenagers-like, if it makes you feel better.”

You sigh, frowning as you stare at him. “You think I’m stupid?”

“What?” He asks, brows raising.

“You think I’m as stupid as he thinks I am? Because the way he talks about me would make anybody think I’m this clueless, hopeless, dumb woman who has no idea what she’s doing with her life.”

Aaliyah chuckles tenderly, “Honey, you’re smart. Johnny can’t quite shut up about you after you two talk. He loves your takes on authors and the way you write, says he would love to have you work with him somehow.”

You almost stop breathing. He talks about you to his wife? He remembers what you say during your conversation or when you talk about what you write? Damn, you doubt people even listen to you.

“Oh, thanks,” yet, this is the only thing you mumble, and it’s fine like this. Anything else coming from your mouth could dangerously be a squeal.

“Anyway,” she says, leaning closer, making you move back and hold your breath, only to damn yourself when her fingers brush on your skin to wipe away something that dropped on you with the wind, “your dad’s not here now, why don’t you join us by the pool and stop stressing about him?”

You smile but shake your head. “No, it’s fine, I’ll stay here.”

“Are you sure? The water is perfect,” Johnny adds, standing up and towering over you. “Couldn’t convince my sweet wife to jump in but maybe you’re braver than her,” he winks, and you don’t have the courage to turn around and see if she saw.

“Oh…” you whisper and then look at the pool. If only he knew the problem wasn’t the water, you wouldn’t think twice about jumping in.

“Oh, come on,” Mrs. Suh pleads, and before you can realize it, her hands are wrapped around your wrist. This is the first time she touches you, not a caress, not a tease, but a firm hold on you, and it shouldn’t send shivers down your spine, but it does. Her fingers are slim and soft, and you find yourself wishing you could feel them more, preferably somewhere else on your body.

“Wait,” you try to retort, but you have no choice. She’s dragging you to the edge of the pool and Johnny is walking right behind you, you’d be trapped either way.

“Here,” she says, coming to a stop when you reach the border of the pool. “Much better than sipping lemonade while reading a book all alone, right?”

“I don’t have a bikini,” you say, only now realizing you didn’t go downstairs for that.

“Are you wearing lace?” Johnny asks, walking so close that you can feel the heat of his body.

“Wh-why do you care?”

“Dummy,” he chuckles, “if you’re not, you can jump in anyway, it won’t ruin the lingerie.”

“Oh, of course, yeah, of course,” you mumble, looking away to don’t show how embarrassed you are. But their laughs —even if lighthearted— don’t help you at all, and you still feel trapped between them. “No, by the way, I have no reason to wear lace,” you add, trying to fill the silence.

“Really?” Aaliyah asks, tilting her head to the side. You turn around, facing the pool so you can look at them both —and fool yourself you have a way out now that your back is free.

“Well, yes… I’m… I’m not really people’s type,” you mutter, torturing the inside of your cheeks and your fingers.

Johnny snickers, “Weird, you look exactly like —” he doesn’t finish though, and you barely see the glance his wife gives him to stop him. “I’m sure you are someone’s type.”

You nod, but your brain is slowly melting, from the weather, from their closeness, and now because you can’t understand why she stopped him and what he truly wanted to say.

“Undress,” she says resolutely, and you’re brought back to earth, staring at her with wide eyes. “To swim… remember?” she finishes, head tilted to the side and a mocking smirk on her face. You know she’s having the time of her life watching you panic, you’re giving it all way, from the way your breath falters to the way your chest heavies.

“Sure, to swim,” you repeat but it’s more to ground yourself. You hope the water is freezing cold, so maybe your body can cool down, and so can your thoughts. You quickly lift your dress over your shoulders and by the time you can see again, you see them in the water, standing right in front of you, leaning against the other side of the pool.

“Are you coming?” Johnny asks, voice raspy but clear.

You hum, kneeling down, feeling the water with your hand. It’s not cold enough to calm you down and to make you take time, you have to jump in. So, you do. It’s not too deep and you can walk to them.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Aaliyah voices out, deeply breathing in the air and moving her fingers in abstract figures on the surface.

“Yeah. I…” you look down, watching your bra and how little it covers, the damp fabric highlighting your hard nipples even more.

“Shy?” It rolls from her tongue like venom, so sweet yet poisonous as her eyes lock in yours.

“No, no,” you laugh awkwardly. “Why would I?”

“We wouldn’t blame you, we can come off as quite intimidating at times,” Johnny says, the corner of his lips twitching in a smirk before it relaxes.

“You don’t intimidate me,” you lie, chuckling and crossing your arms on your chest.

She laughs. “My nipples are hard too, babe. It’s the cold,” she reassures you with a smile, but you don’t feel better. You’re not so sure it’s only the cold, you think they became this hard a few minutes ago when you were practically sandwiched between them.

“Why did you come here?” You ask out of nowhere, and their expressions change. “I’m sorry, it’s not like I don’t want you here,” you explain, “but you could do vacations on your own and don’t have to suffer through my father, so I don’t understand.”

“Thought we said not to talk about him?” She says, raising a brow.

“Well, I want to talk about you. You two have it all, you’re rich, powerful, smart, in love, and yet, you…” you float around me, always, constantly, “...you spend so little time together.”

Mr. Suh laughs, his head rolling back for a second. “We’re always together. I come home to her, not your father,” he jokes and she laughs, nodding in agreement.

“Also, this might not be the only vacation we will do this year. We always go to Santorini in September before Uni starts,” she adds.

You hum, biting the inside of your cheek.

“But let’s talk about you,” she says. “Why are you here? Your brothers didn’t come.”

“My brothers can do whatever they want, I can’t.”

“Why?” This time Johnny is the one asking.

“I’d let him down,” you add, lowering your gaze because you don’t like the look of pity behind their eyes. “But I don’t want to think about him. You’re good at diving,” you change the subject, addressing Johnny, hoping it will be enough to move the focus from you. 

“Thanks,” he replies, a proud smirk on his face.

“Don’t stroke his ego, he’s going to jump again and splash around,” she jokes, rolling her eyes.

“You’re already wet, so why would it be a problem?” He smirks, and then turns to you and winks, making you choke on your own saliva, but you try to cover it up with a fit of cough, something that makes the couple giggle under their breath more.

Aaliyah swims to you, pushing you back so Johnny can have space and maybe don’t drown you with his jump. Your skin is on fire as her hands place on your back as she guides you and you’re thankful your feet can touch because you can barely walk, so imagine swimming.

“He was in the swimming team in high school,” Aaliyah explains, covering her eyes from the sun with a hand and squeezing them so she can watch Johnny. You mimic her, humming at her words. “He was so good, I think I fell in love on the bleachers watching him swim.”

You chuckle tenderly and try to imagine a younger version of them, and you can almost see them. You wonder if their personalities were the same more than ten years ago, you wonder how they looked, you wonder if they would’ve ever imagined to still be here after so many years. But in any version you come up with, you still don’t fit. Actually, it makes you look like a stain even more.

“Your love is… strong,” you whisper when Johnny finally dives in and she cheers before bringing her attention to you.

“It is,” she agrees, a sweet smile showing her straight, white teeth, “even though weird things happen sometimes.”

You giggle, frowning. “Weird things?” Your voice is shaking, and you don’t want to connect the two dots that are so vivid in your head.

“What are you talking about? Praising me?” Mr. Suh asks, grinning, running a hand in his wet hair before hugging his wife from the back and kissing her cheek.

“Not about you, nothing impressive about that jump,” she jokes. “About us.”

“Us?”

She hums. “I was telling her how I fell in love with you, and she said our love is strong.”

You want to ask about the weird things, you want to ask so much more, but you don’t. And you simply stand there, watching Mr. Suh’s hands wrap around her body, feeling jealousy in the pit of your stomach.

The whole thing gets more intense as time passes by. You’re curious about them, as individuals and as a couple, and you can’t deny the tension anymore. Not tonight.

The three of you haven’t really spoken, mostly because you slipped away as soon as you crossed ways, and after a few tries, they stopped trying to approach you. But the buzzing chemistry is strong across the room.

You try not to look at them, you even try to engage in conversation with your father —when he’s not attached to Mr. Suh’s ass— and some of his other friends, but it’s useless. Your head always turns in their direction, it’s almost like a voice is luring you in.

You guess you look dumb from the outside, and you’re sure that if you looked at yourself in the mirror you would tell yourself to work on the way you stare at —almost strangers— with eyes filled with lust. You don’t want to, you don’t want to look at them, even less with that wide-eyed gaze and agape mouth, but you can’t help it.

“Honey,” your mother’s voice scoffs, “what are you doing?”

You perceive her scolding —disgusted— gaze on you and you cough, looking at her to be met with her judging eyes. Typical of your mother, usually you only get her looks with no need for words to be added.

“Sorry, I was zoned out,” you justify, chuckling awkwardly, but it only makes her frown more and sigh. “I’m a bit tired,” you lie, trying to fool her.

“Just don’t look weird,” she dismisses you with a wave of hand. “Not more than the usual,” she adds, leaving you alone.

You roll your eyes, scoffing loudly once you’re sure she’s out of sight and then start walking to the table with the drinks. You’re not sure adding alcohol to the picture will make it better but who knows, maybe ending up passed out next to a toilet is better than lusting over a married couple that is probably just messing with you.

It doesn’t work.

You blame it on the hard drinks your friends make you drink when you go out, your alcohol tolerance must be out of the roof by now, but it doesn’t matter because your biggest problem still stands.

Your problem is standing on the other side of the room now that you’re sitting on some couches with the fourth drink in hand. You shouldn’t feel like this, stomach upside down and a frown hardening your beautiful features while you look at them. But you can’t help it. Mr. Suh’s hand sitting at the side of Aaliyah’s waist, his thumb rubbing soft circles over the maroon dress she’s wearing. You can’t hear her laugh as her head rolls back before falling on his shoulder at something the person they are talking to is saying, but your brain replays the sound anyway, and you smile.

The beam on your face drops quickly when her eyes lock into yours, Johnny is not looking, busy paying attention to the person in front of them, but her gaze is on you. It’s piercing even with the distance between you and it takes your breath away. You should make this look normal, raise a hand and wave with a small smile before turning away, but you don’t. You’re stuck, like you always are around them, and the only thing that moves is your heart, pounding fast and violently in your chest as you watch her every move, one hand bringing a glass to her lips and the other meeting Johnny’s on her waist. You’d love to roll your eyes and huff ‘he’s yours, we get it,’ but you only feel a stinging pain in your heart, and a less painful one, well… somewhere else.

The spell breaks when she turns around, eyes on her husband and laughing again as if nothing happened, almost as if you’re not even in the room anymore.

Your shoulders drop, your breath gets normal again, and your head lowers. It’s not normal to feel like this, especially when it all feels like a mockery at times. You know there’s no space for you. You can’t be her and run your fingers in his hair without getting scowled at for ruining it. You can’t be her and kiss him on the lips and chuckle when he rubs your nose against yours. You can’t be her and see him in the comfort of when he wakes up or goes to bed.

But you play and play, and fool yourself you can, getting lost in those fantasies. You need a breath of fresh air.

Just like the alcohol, the minutes spent outside to cool your body and mind don’t work. When you go back to sit at your spot, you realize they’re sitting opposite to you. You’d leave again but you have no excuse, and it would become even more awkward now that your father sits next to you. But it’s fine, they’re talking again with someone else and you can focus on what your father is saying. Or maybe not, his conversation with another one of his intellectual friends is boring, nothing interesting comes from his mouth, just old, recurrent, wrong takes. You’d get in the conversation, just to feel something else that night and end up in a discussion with your dad because you need to prove him wrong, but your brain is somewhere else.

Once again, in front of you. Mrs. Suh is sitting on Johnny’s lap, somehow her back manages to stay straight even if she’s not resting against anything, her long legs are elegantly crossed by the ankle and one of her arms is wrapped around his shoulder. You recognize the person in front of them, Mr. Kim Doyoung, a math professor, and you question how they know each other but it gets swiped from your mind quickly.

You hate how close they are. Their touches so subtle and yet so loud making it feel like they’re rubbing it in your face. You hate how people look at them, with so much awe and affection, you feel like only you can look at them like that. And you feel stupid, it is stupid.

But then it happens again, this time it’s Mr. Suh the one looking at you. All the anger and jealousy fly away. Thousands of eyes on them, and he’s still looking at you. His wife is in his arms, and he’s still looking at you. Your father is at your side, and he’s still looking at you.

You gulp, shifting on the spot to try to get comfortable and stop the painful throbbing between your legs, but it’s impossible.

Mr. Suh’s lips flicker in a small smirk, and then his brow rises, there’s also a small raise of the cup he’s holding, and you immediately turn around, just to make sure your father is not looking. You can’t believe he’s so bold, flirting —or whatever he is doing— not only in a full room but with your dad by your side.

You should hate it, you should leave, maybe even confront him, but you don’t. You’re actually quite ashamed the whole thing turns you on. It’s hot, and taboo, and taboo but hot. And come on, you’ve been subtly flirting with a married couple, this shouldn’t be the worst thing, but it feels like it. Because your father worships them, everybody in that room praises them, wants to be like them, and thinks they only have eyes for each other, but they don’t, even if it’s only a naughty game, their eyes are on you.

It’s you.

Their eyes skim around the room playing hide and seek with yours. Their hands tickle your skin in secret. Their bodies speak to you.

The whole room fades in the background, all the tension, all the problems, gone.

It’s only you and them.

Eventually, you start spending more and more time at their place. You tell yourself it’s because they’re easygoing and you can easily escape from your house —to be more precise, from your father. But the truth is, you’re starting to enjoy them more and more.

You still feel out of place sometimes, but it quickly fades away when they notice their conversation push you out by quickly pulling you back in, making light jokes you can understand, or asking about your day. You realize Mrs. Taylor tends to pick up on you quicker than Mr. Suh, while he prefers to ease you with tender touches, and you wonder if he knows the effect they have on you.

You still don’t open up to them much, fearing that if they discovered more, they’d quickly stop giving you attention.

Attention.

That’s another thing you enjoy about being with them. You feel seen. Even if their chemistry is over the roof, they never leave you out, you’re not a tapestry with them. They listen to you, even if you don’t say much, even if you stumble on your words and only give them a small peek. They look at you with sweet smiles on their faces and hum interested, holding conversation with ease.

And shamefully, the thing you love the most, they pamper you. It’s not like you’re poor —even if you have decided to don’t ask for money from your father, some privileges from your wealthy family come anyway— but they still spoil you. Expensive dinners in places you honestly never even wanted to set foot inside. Expensive clothes you doubt you even have the occasion to wear. They even gifted you a Cartier necklace that you keep stored away as your most treasured possession.

But their attentions aren’t only economical, they spoil you with homemade dinners at their place, movie night on their couch, and something more…

You lost count by now of how many times they get you alone and flirt with you, teasing you, watching you get flustered, chuckling at the way your breath falters when their fingers brush your skin or hair. It’s like a dirty game, you are their dirty game. But you don’t hate it. You know they both know what they’re doing, but you love this secrecy, the way you’re their trophy in plain sight and yet a dirty secret they have to hide from each other. It makes you feel wanted, desperately wanted.

And soon enough, you find yourself playing that game, too.

You wear your best outfits when you pass by the University, skin-tight skirts or pants, and just as skimpy blouses or tops with the excuse to borrow books from the library and say hi. Your lips are tinted red for Mr. Suh when he asks you if you want to pass in his office to help him with some lectures, and brown for Mrs. Suh when you casually pass by her firm for lunch or after work. Your hair is always in different hairstyles until you start to stick with the ones you see they like the most. And slowly, you gain some confidence to flirt back.

Your remarks are subtle, and your gaze shies away when they hold eye contact and only giggle or smirk teasingly. But it’s something.

Or so you think.

One second, you’re confident, and the other you feel like you’re making the biggest mistake of your life. You start wondering if you’re pathetic in their eyes and are nothing more but a plaything for them to toy with and discharge when they’ll get tired of you. But nobody ever complimented you this much, calling you beautiful, caressing your face, loving the outfits you put together, and, most importantly, didn’t make you feel dumb. So it feels impossible to pull away from them. Even when your father starts getting mad at you about it.

He’s not dumb, and he has seen the way you and Mr. Suh sit in a corner and talk, he has seen that he greets you before anybody else —even before him— and he doesn’t like it.

“Johnny and Aaliyah have a beautiful relationship,” he starts, scolding you, “don’t try to screw it up, you’re not half of her worth.”

And that’s the first time you cry at night about it. You don’t want to listen to him, but you can’t help but question why they would choose you. Even if it’s just a game, even if it means nothing, you can’t find a reason why. You don’t know who started this first, but it’s not like it would be any different, they’re both hot, smart, talented and successful, and your father is right, you’re not half of her, or his, worth.

Yet, you can’t let it go.

If you know their townhouse by heart, you can’t say the same for their holiday house. It’s your first time being there after they invited you to their getaway weekend. You didn’t hesitate to say yes, pack your best things and leave.

You didn’t want to wander around but they left you all alone and didn’t show much of the house, so you took this opportunity to see a bit more.

The place is big; in the spacious hall, you’re met with the stairs once you enter, the big living room and on the right there’s the kitchen with a grand island in the middle and the table in front of the wide window. Farther down the corridor there’s a small bathroom and a room you couldn’t open.  You’d like to go outside in the garden and chill next to the pool or under the porch, but it’s like upstairs is calling you.

On the first floor, there are the bedrooms and a studio. Your room —well, the guest room— is at the end of the corridor with a big bathroom next to it, while their room is at the end of the stairs, or so you guess.

You don’t want to pry, but curiosity’s got the best of you, especially after trying to open that room downstairs that won’t open. But you know you don’t want to find the keys to that room when you enter their bedroom —yes, you do, but that’s not the main thing.

Your lips part when you enter. It’s bigger than yours, with white walls and wide windows that let the light shine in making it seem even bigger. The big bed is against the wall that faces the door, and right next to the windows, there’s a small sitting room with a two-seat couch and two armchairs.

You should stop and don’t step further but you don’t listen to your brain.

On the wall in front of the bed, there’s a fireplace and on top of it there’s a television that takes half of the wall. At the sides, there are recessed shelves in the wall with books and elegant boxes, a lamp in front of it, and a lounge chair.

There are other lamps, all seem to be design pieces. Two long bedside tables that seem to be vanity desks of marble black. Some beautiful paintings are on the walls and you frown when you can’t recognize the artist, but they picture women and nature and you find them mesmerizing.

Then your eyes are caught by a rectangular red box placed against the wall at the side of the bed, it’s bigger than the bench at the end of the bed, and something about it screams at you to open it.

You shouldn’t, you feel like you’re invading their privacy —and well, you are— but you don’t stop.

You kneel in front of it, and a part of you hopes it’s locked somehow so that you can walk out of there and pretend nothing happened. But there’s no lock or key, you just have to lift the lid to see what’s inside.

Your lips part and a gasp comes out of your mouth when your eyes see what’s inside. You freeze. Close it and leave. Your brain screams, but you’re stuck, eyes blinking as you try to make sure you’re not making it all up.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, hand falling from the lid to shakily touch what’s inside. There are other boxes but, for now, you don’t care to open them and only grab what you can see. Handcuffs, blindfolds, what seem to be whips but they all have different shapes and you don’t get the differences, ropes and other items you can’t name. The closed boxes have labels on them, lingerie, anal, vibrators, and dildos.

Your hands grab one, opening it, inspecting what’s inside with surprise and curiosity, and then another, and another. To be honest, you don’t know why you are so shocked, you own some toys —a vibrator and a small dildo— but you’ve seen much more than that, and it shouldn’t be surprising that a couple like the Suhs have freaky, kinky sex. Yet, it’s overwhelming you.

You are so caught up looking into the box that you don’t hear the door open and Aaliyah stand behind you with just a rope wrapped around her body.

“Looking for something?”

One of the boxes falls from your hand when Mr. Suh’s voice resonates in the room and you jump around in fear.

You mumble no sense, starting to panic while your eyes dart around the room for an escape. There would be many, the room is all windows and you could easily jump off the balcony to put an end to how embarrassed you feel right now, but you can’t.

Their gazes are piercing you and pinning you down against the floor and a feeble “I’m sorry,” is all you can say before your throat goes completely dry.

They snicker, starting to walk over you and you take a step back, but almost fall into the box. You don’t, not because your brain started to work again, but because Mrs. Suh has her arms wrapped around you to keep you from being bent in half into that.

“Careful, you don’t want to hurt yourself,” she says, a veil of genuine concern and something else, a lot of something else, that you can’t decipher.

“I told you she was curious,” Johnny says, talking to her once she lets you go after she makes sure you can stand on your feet.

“I — I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry,” you mumble, looking down and torturing your hands, but the toys abandoned on the floor only make you look outside. “I thought you were out.”

“I was,” Johnny says, “went buy something sweet for you. But it looks like you’ll get something sweeter tonight.”

Your brain panics, trying to assimilate everything they said to you. “You — you were home the entire time?”

She smirks. “Didn’t hear the water running?”

You sigh defeated, pressing your lips together and shaking your head.

Johnny chuckles before kneeling and talking to you again, “You’re lucky we didn’t want to use these on you tonight, I’m not really in the mood to clean them all up,” he says as he puts the dildos back in the box and set it aside, outside of the container so he remembers to clean them.

“On — on me?” You mumble still struggling to breathe.

Aaliyah hums. “All this teasing has to go somewhere, right?”

“I — I…” You — You… you wished this so much that now that is happening you don’t know how to feel anymore.

“You don’t want us?” Johnny asks with genuine care and your eyes widen, terrified they will get the wrong idea.

“No, I do, I do, but I don’t want to — I… I promise I’m not weird, I don’t even know why I came here, or why I opened that, it’s just so eye-catching, it’s red and nothing in this room is red, and…”

Your rant gets interrupted by two lips on yours. You don’t know who it is at first, eyes closed and brain and heart going off like sirens, running around with their non-existent hands in the air. But then an arm wraps around you and pulls you close, and you realize it’s her. It’s her soft yet firm touch, it’s her body against yours.

And then you’re trapped again, Johnny is behind you, and you feel small and powerless.

“We’re not mad at you, honey,” he says, fingers running against your neck as he moves your hair back, “we’re kinda glad you snooped around, we weren’t really sure how to initiate this.”

“Oh,” you gasp. “But I’m not weird, I’m not a stalker, I promise.”

“We know,” she stops you again, chuckling, “maybe you wanted to get caught. Johnny called your name when he was downstairs, you didn’t hear him?”

Your lips spread partially as you try to remember but you’re sure you didn’t hear his voice or the shower. “No, I… I think I was too caught in… into… well…”

They snicker.

“Naughty girl,” she mocks, gently cupping your chin. “Found something interesting?”

“Uhm, no…”

“No?” Johnny asks and you feel something against your bare thighs —wearing shorts was a bad idea. It has fringes and it tickles. “Not even this?”

You look down and see the black flogger in his hands and you gulp. “I never tried any of these before… I’m not even sure how some of these things can bring pleasure.”

Aaliyah chuckles, shaking her head. “Oh, babydoll, you’d be surprised.”

“You want to tie me?” You ask innocently and they laugh.

“Nah, seems a bit cruel for our first time, don’t you think?” Johnny says, hands wrapping around your stomach.

First time? There will be another one? You think but you don’t ask. You probably already look depraved enough to their eyes, you don’t want to make it worse.

“So, want to have fun with us?”

“Yeah…”

“Hesitating?” She questions, caressing your cheek to soothe you but her touch only makes your body buzz in excitation.

“No, I still don’t get why you would want me,” you whisper, diverting your gaze.

“Have you taken a look in the mirror?” He says, big hands caressing your waist and lips brushing against your neck.

You shake your head. “I still think I don’t fit between you…”

She grabs your chin, lifting your head. “Then why don’t you stop thinking tonight, mhh? We’ll give you a reason to believe why you do fit, instead?” Her hands grab yours and she places them on the tie of her robe, if your fingers move and you let it fall to the ground the whole night will bloom. The consequences could be tragic, tomorrow could be the worst day of your life, but tonight might be the best one.

You don’t hesitate anymore; you’re curious, you’re needy, and you badly want to be pressed between them and feel their skin against yours, so your fingers dance on the tie and pull the robe open.

Your lips part to let out a gasp when her naked body unreveals to your eyes, and you get lost in it. Your eyes move up and down, taking in her perky, round boobs, her darker nipples hardening at the cool air of the room, and then they go down, to her toned stomach you have already seen before until they reach her soft hips, you bite your lips when your eyes fall between her legs, perfectly trimmed black hair covering her most intimate part, and lastly on her soft thighs and long legs.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathe out, feeling you could collapse just from the view, and you start wondering if you can take Johnny too.

Her lips lift in a smile and her hands wander on your body where her husband’s hands are leaving your body untouched. You press your lips together to don’t moan already, it would be so humiliating to do so, but it’s almost as if they know.

“Don’t hold back,” Johnny whispers against your ear, shivers running down your spine. “We take pride in what we do, and want to hear you.”

You hum, nodding fast before you feel dizzy when he pushes your shorts down, his body lowering to accompany them on the floor, his hot breath hitting your exposed skin before his lips leave kisses on your thighs and ass.

Aaliyah is busy taking care of your top, lifting your arms to reveal your bare chest. Your first instinct is to cover yourself, but she stops you with a stern look and a “Don’t.” Her voice is sultry, sweet like honey and intoxicating, and you can only obey. “It’s not fair when I’m so bare at your eyes, don’t you think so?”

“Yes,” you manage to breathe out, and then turn your head to stare at Johnny, the only one who’s completely covered. You don’t say anything, but your eyes speak louder than any word. You’re basically imploring him to show himself to you, your eagerness is burning out of you, yet he mocks you with a smirk and then a scoff.

“Later, honey,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “Don’t be greedy. Too much on your plate, then you can’t chew.”

His wife snickers, pushing him back from you. “Follow me,” she says, giving you a reassuring smile before turning around and walking toward the bed.

You hesitate, looking back at Johnny, asking his permission, and when he nods, you still feel stuck there. You need a light push from him to start moving your feet and follow her on the Wyoming king bed.

“I didn’t think you would be so shy, doll,” she points out, watching you hesitantly climb on the bed and crawl to her.

“She’s not,” Johnny replies for you, “she’s just playing with us.”

You stop in your tracks, looking back at him, mumbling to come up with a reply. But you stop thinking when her chest presses against your back and she turns your head to kiss you. Her hand reaches out to call Johnny to join you, but you don’t think about him until you feel the bed bend with his weight and then his hands on your thighs.

“Or maybe she just needs to ease into us,” she suggests. You catch she’s telling him something, it’s a quick conversation with eyes and mouthed words; you don’t get it, but you don’t care to get it.

You trust them. And you like the thrill of being at their mercy with no idea of what they truly want to do with you.

So, you let them. You let them move you, shifting around you as their hands gently push you flat against the bed and their lips start tracing your shivering skin. You hate that Johnny is still dressed but that thought quickly leaves your mind —or better, doesn’t annoy you that much anymore— when his fingers hook on the band of your panties and pull them off.

You squirm, hiding your face against Aaliyah’s arms but they’re quick at reassuring you.

“Stop hiding away,” Johnny says, “you’re beautiful, honey.”

But your confidence it’s not the problem. You’ve never been the centre of attention, you never had two pairs of eyes, lips, and hands on you. You don’t know how to cope with all of this.

You gasp when her lips wrap around your hard nipple and she starts sucking. And you can’t control your hips when his hands brush against the apex of your thighs before lingering over your sensitive pussy.

“Can I taste you?” Johnny asks, softly caressing your skin.

“Yes, you can.” You’re already short on air as you watch him lower his head, his eyes intensely staring straight into yours, making you feel so small and yet so safe.

Your legs go weak as soon as his plump lips touch your sensitive clit, he’s only leaving delicate kisses on you and small kitten licks but that’s not the only stimulation you’re receiving, Aaliyah’s mouth and fingers lick and pinch on your sensitive nipples are not helping you calm down.

“Oh my god,” you curse, rolling your head back when he starts eating you out for real. Tongue working with precision from your leaking slit to your throbbing clit, not leaving a patch untouched. His hold on you is firm, big hands keeping you spread, massaging your skin to help you relax even more, but with no room for movement. 

“Look at you,” she teases, pulling away from your boob to pay attention to your face, “so wrecked and we barely even started. You love the way my husband is eating you out?”

Your eyes open to meet hers, and you regret it right away, the intensity of her gaze making you feel something you’ve never felt before. Sure, she carried around an intimidating vibe, but that kind of aura disappeared as the months passed and you grew closer, but this, this is different. She is dominant and firm, yet somehow you can always find that veil of care that characterized her.

You try to answer, afraid not receiving a verbal response will disappoint her, but your throat lets out an embarrassing whimper followed by a broken moan.

She snickers, shaking her head, and caressing your cheeks so gently it feels like she’s mocking you. “I know, doll, I know, he’s good with his mouth.”

You cry out in embarrassment but your head rolls back when Johnny sucks harshly on your clit and his hands move down to keep your pussy spread.

“Taste so good,” he mumbles pressed against your skin, the vibrations driving you insane. “So wet for us, you wanted this so bad, didn’t you? Our desperate toy, we made you wait for so long.”

You’d love to scream that yes, this took too long, but nothing comes out of your mouth. You somehow find the strength to look up, much with the help of Aaliyah who places an arm under your head for support, and you feel your stomach tighten up at the view.

Johnny looks like a starving man, messily lapping at your aching pussy, devouring you with his face buried between your legs, nose pressed against your mound. He’s so caught up he probably doesn’t even realize he tugs you closer when his arms wrap around your thighs.

Your eyes shut down and for a moment the image of the usual him crosses your mind. There’s nothing of the composed, elegant, and polite man you know, that man that your father loves so much, the same man that if he saw him right now, would have a heart attack. But you quickly push him out of your mind. You have no other choice when Aaliyah’s fingers add to the mess between your legs, and you bite your lips so hard you almost bleed.

“Too much,” you cry out, looking for mercy in her eyes when she draws them from her husband and your cunt to your face.

“Too much?” She coos with a condescending tone. “You’re bucking your hips against his face and want me to believe it’s too much?”

You groan loudly, giving up as your head falls against the mattress again. Her arm is not there anymore as she’s using it to support her body to tease you, and your neck has no more strength to watch him have the time of his life between your thighs.

But you’re not the only one groaning; Johnny’s moaning too, getting drunk in your juices and falling into madness as he tries to ease the painful boner in his tight jeans, grinding against the mattress for comfort.

“You’re so hot you’re making him hump the mattress, babydoll,” she points out. “That’s the effect you have on him. Still doubt you’re not enough?”

You don’t, not right now, you don’t want to think about it. Still, you shake your head, earning a soft, pleased smile and a “Good girl.”

It makes your stomach tighten, your toes curl, and your hands clench around the sheets. “Johnny,” you whisper, keeping your mouth parted as you try to let more air in, it’s a beg for release but you can’t find the words to let it all out.

The way you moan his name, so shyly, so weakly, a bit for the pleasure, a bit because you feel like it doesn’t belong to you —God if he finds it endearing the way you still call them Mr. and Mrs. Suh sometimes— makes his heart pound and his dick ache. You’re so fragile in their hands, right now, in his. He had wished to have you like this for so long; since his wife first brought you up and he started to look at you in a different light. Every time you spoke your mind during dinners, coming up with something that was too smart for your father to comprehend until he proposed the same point of view, only changing a few things. You deserved to be lifted on the table and eaten out like this. And the more you two talked, or your hands brushed timidly, the more he felt addicted. He couldn’t stop thinking of you.

And that was crazy, because the only woman he ever had was his wife, and never he would’ve imagined he could feel so attracted to someone that wasn’t her. And yet, the three of you are here, in the same bed, in the same mess.

When you call out his name again, he snaps out of his thoughts and looks up at you, the eye contact makes your head spin and you hold onto Aaliyah’s wrists. You feel like the orgasm will make you fly away, but before that, Johnny will kill you with just one look.

“Please,” you cry out, begging to be spared, or maybe not, maybe begging to be ended, begging for the release, begging to reach the best orgasm of your life.

“Let go, honey, come in my mouth,” his deep, sultry voice is the final strike that sends you over the edge. Body convulsing in his hold as he keeps you down and keeps sucking and licking you, eagerly swallowing your sweet cum, and moaning vulgarly against your burning hot skin.

You feel dizzy and high, and your body slumps against the soft mattress when your first orgasm ends.

“Want to see you,” you cry out, trying to lift your body and reach for him, but your limbs quickly give up.

Aaliyah chuckles, and you turn to face her. “We need to work on your stamina.”

You pout as you justify yourself, “It was too good, and I haven’t come like this in — well, never.”

Johnny chuckles, smirking proudly before he stands up at the edge of the bed. “Want to see me, honey?”

You nod with enthusiasm, biting your lips as your heart thuds in excitement. Your eyes lock with his fingers that are moving way too slow on their way to unbutton the shirt. But after what feels like an eternity, the blouse meets the floor, leaving uncovered his toned chest, arms and beautiful tattoos adorning the skin of his shoulder. But it’s not like you haven’t seen that before.

“What?” You scream annoyed when she covers your view, standing on her knees between you and her husband, giggling at your disappointment.

“He needs a hand, baby,” she chuckles and you huff again. Of course, they would fuck with you some more.

Every sound drives you more insane; you bite the inside of your cheek when you hear the belt open, and your heels tap against the mattress when the zip comes down, lastly, you groan in disbelief when you hear his pants and belt hit the floor.

“Please,” you whine, closed fists slapping against the bed.

“Fine, greedy little thing,” Johnny chuckles, and so does she as they finally give you what you want.

Your eyes and lips widen, and you gulp. “Oh… wow…”

They laugh, it’s a soft sound that creates a beautiful harmony, and even if they’re making fun of you, it warms your heart. The next thing they do is crawl to you to kiss you.

It starts with a soft peck on your lips, their mouths on yours meeting almost shyly, and then it gets heated, teeth and tongue clashing together as all of you try to have a taste of each other.

“Don’t worry, you can take it,” she reassures, kissing your lips, hands travelling down your stomach until it reaches your throbbing clit and starts moving in circles, making you gasp against their lips.

“I don’t think I can,” you mumble, glossy eyes looking into his first and then moving to hers. “Maybe you should.”

“Oh, I do, trust me,” she replies, smirking before kissing your neck.

“Tonight is about you,” Johnny reminds you, doing the same as she’s doing but on the other side. “It will fit.”

“Mhh,” you mumble, feeling weak and overwhelmed. 

“Let me make sure it will fit,” she sings happily, now taking the spot between your legs.

You moan against Johnny’s mouth when her finger pushes inside you, humming in delight as she feels how wet you are. You can’t see her, eyes closed as you get lost in the kiss, but just her presence is enough to make you tremble.

“Look at you, it’s so easy to turn you into a puddle,” she teases, watching as you can barely kiss Johnny back. Something about the kiss you and her husband are sharing makes her head spin. There’s something about you, something new, something they’ve never had before. You’re so delicate, like a flower, and your petals fall perfectly between them. Just like right now, she’s sure there’s nothing in your brain, and yet your lips follow Johnny’s, messily meeting him in that slow, yet passionate kiss.

Your body reacts so nicely to their hands running on your skin, cupping and groping at your soft boobs to stimulate you everywhere as she works the second finger inside of you. They are experts at what they’re doing, sending shivers all over your body and pushing you further down into that haze.

“You’re taking my fingers so well, you’re so eager to feel Johnny inside, aren’t you?”

You mumble a reply as you finally pull away from Johnny, a thread of spit still connecting your lips, but you don’t notice until he breaks it off. “Want to feel him.”

They snicker, and then their lips are on you; Johnny’s busy leaving pecks on your neck before he pays attention to your nipples, and Aaliyah is focused on kissing your inner thigh and tummy as her fingers still curl inside of you.

“I don’t think you’re ready, yet, pretty girl,” she hums, curling the tips up and hitting your sensitive spot. That action makes your hips buck from the mattress and causes a louder moan to slip through your tortured plump lips. “So wet, dripping all over my fingers. I bet you taste so good, maybe I’ll get a taste one day, uhm?”

You squeeze your eyes, uselessly trying to calm your breath, it’s pathetic how fast your chest is moving in erratic movements, and how your hips squirm to search for more, even if one of their hands is on your stomach to keep you in place. You don’t reply but you internally scream that yes, you want her. You want to feel her soft, full lips on you, you wonder if she’s eager like Johnny or more meticolous, if she moans loudly or keeps quiet. You don’t know, but the mere idea makes a growl roll from your lips.

“She’s good with her fingers, isn’t she?” Johnny’s deep voice hits your ear, and you feel your body melt. Your head moves quickly to agree as you turn to the side to face him. He’s staring at you with a sly smirk on his face and before you can stop him, you feel his long fingers on your clit. You bite back a moan and try to plead with your eyes but it’s useless. Neither of them wants to stop.

“What, princess? We have to make sure you’re ready to take my dick,” he whispers, shushing your senseless sounds with a kiss.

You bite his lips by mistake when she pushes a third finger inside, eyes wide both in surprise and in a silent apology to Johnny.

“Too much,” you cry out.

But she tsks, shaking her head. “You have to be all stretched out for him, doll. You don’t want to break, do you?”

You shake your head before it rolls back, and your face contorts more. You don’t want to break but you feel like you might explode from this alone. She’s incredibly skilled in what she’s doing, it’s like her fingers are pumping and curling following the rhythm of a melody only she can hear, they hit you deep and fast, not giving you time to recover from each profound push.

“Just a few pumps and then he’ll fuck you exactly like you want,” she encourages you, her dark brown eyes looking softly at you, curling up in a sweet smile.

It takes you less than a few pumps to come undone, you don’t even see the orgasm coming when it washes over you, knocking air out of your lungs. It’s her two fingers pumping into you, curling and scissoring, after she pulled the third out to move faster, it’s Johnny’s thumb on your clit, flicking it swiftly, and his lips on your nipple, sucking harshly. But mostly, it’s them, the warmth of their bodies wrapping around you, intoxicating you like a drug that takes its sweet time to kick in.

Your body shakes, trapped between the mattress and their big bodies, and you feel like the room is spinning around you.

“You come so easily,” she mocks, pulling her fingers out once she’s sure you’re done, and slapping your clit, making you hiss.

Easily. If that was nothing to her…

“Naughty girl,” Johnny scoffs, pulling away from you and you whine when their hot bodies are not on you anymore.

You sigh, thinking since when you’re so pathetic and needy? You truly can’t last more than ten seconds without having them all over you?

“If you were ours that wouldn’t have gone unpunished,” he says, settling between your legs and spreading them apart. You barely noticed them moving around, already too far gone to be aware of what is going on around you. His intense gaze makes you shiver and more cum oozes out of your already messy, wet cunt. Johnny takes a deep breath, getting lost in the sight of you, your face is wrecked, your lips parted, your eyes watery, your boobs are heaving, and your hips are moving around, pleading him to fuck you. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, honey.”

The compliment makes your heart swell and you weakly smile back at him.

“Come on, fuck her already,” Aaliyah encourages him, pushing his hips closer as she stands at his side, “she deserves it.”

You gasp under your breath when his hands wrap around the back of your knees and, with a strong tug, he pulls your body against his, the tip of his dick slapping against your core. He moves one hand down to grab the base and pushes his cock against your slit, it feels like forever as he rubs his leaking tip against your clit and every now and then pushes against your opening that’s fluttering, begging him to fill you up already.

“Johnny,” Aaliyah scolds sternly, looking at him up and down, and her dominance at the moment makes you shiver and moan, shamelessly. You try to close your legs to hide the effect it had on you but they both push them open, and somehow, the way they’re not paying attention to you, eyes locked into each others, and still have you under control, makes you whine even louder. “Stop teasing her,” she orders, cupping his chin and pulling him closer. “Don’t you see how badly she wants you? Dripping on the sheets like a kitten in heat?”

You frown at her comment even if well, she’s right. You’re sure you’ve never been this wet your entire life.

“As you wish, milady,” he jokes and in a second, he’s inside of you.

“Fuck,” you scream at the stretch, even if he didn’t bottom in, you still feel like you can barely breathe. “Oh, shit.”

“Damn, honey, I’m not even halfway in,” he comments, stopping and looking at you with a worried face. 

“No, I’m fine, I was — too caught up,” too caught up in you two and I barely remember my name.

Aaliyah snickers, shaking her head. “You’re so cute, doll,” she hums, caressing your thigh, “just relax and take him all, uhm? He’s going to fuck you so well,” she says before addressing her husband, “right, Johnny?”

Johnny nods, smirking playfully before sinking further until his entire length is in.

Your head rolls back while pleasure dissipates inside your body, he fills you perfectly, stretching you so nicely. You feared it was going to be more painful, but it feels so good, and the pairs of hands soothing your skin are helping you calm down.

Johnny pulls you closer, beginning to slowly move his hips, hissing under his breath while your walls flutter around him so nicely, your wet, warm hole welcoming him with ease now that you’re not tense anymore.

And then it happens, for the first time that night, they kiss. You bite your lips with force as your eyes bore holes in them. Their lips move on their own, doing what they have been doing for a life now, and their hands pull each other close. You’ve seen them in similar circumstances before, but this, this, is different. Johnny is kissing his wife while he’s buried deep inside of you, one hand on the small of her back, the other keeping you spread, her hand tangled in his long, brown locks and the other intertwined with yours at your side.

Everything is oddly romantic and erotic at the same time. Everything makes perfect sense and no sense at all. But it’s fine. Tonight, you don’t want to think, you don’t want to worry, you want to roll around in this mess of limbs and skin and feel. Feel alive and loved. Even if it might be an illusion.

“Fuck, baby,” they moan when they pull apart, giggling at the way they’re in sinch even if for different things. Their eyes are on you again and while Johnny praises how good you feel, she praises how well you’re taking him.

And your heart jumps around while a dumb, drunk-in-love smile plasters on your face. But it swiftly drops when she moves up again to whisper something in Johnny’s ear. You try to study his expression, something flickers in his eyes, and they darken even more, you even feel his dick twitch inside of you, but you can’t make out anything of what she says.

Then Johnny’s hips come to an alt, and your throat dries.

“We were thinking you got to come two times already,” he starts, licking his lips, “and while I’m having fun with you, you will agree we kinda neglected Aaliyah, right?”

You nod quickly, eyes moving between the couple in swift motions.

“So, what do you think about turning around and eating her out while I keep fucking you?”

It’s like your brain sparks up and shuts down at the same time at his words. You nod eagerly, mumbling ‘yes’ while a small, fucked out smile creeps on your face.

“You want me, baby?” She asks, voice slurring out of her lips like velvet.

“Yes, please, want you so bad,” you reply, body buzzing in excitement as you take her body in.

You don’t have time to complain when Johnny pulls out of you, he swiftly turns you around, strong arms moving you as if you’re nothing for him, and given all the weights he lifts at the gym, it is nothing. Your body moves on its own, ass perking up while your face lowers down, close to the soft, perfumed sheets but not enough that you can’t use your lips.

And there she is, resting against the headboard with her legs spread right in front of your face. Her pussy’s dripping, clit throbbing in anticipation, and you envy how good she has been to hold it back for so long.

And even if your eyes are curious and sparkle with lust, she can sense your hesitation. “Come on, don’t be shy,” she encourages you, one hand gently cupping the back of your head, massaging your scalp, “don’t tell me it’s your first time.”

Well… not exactly, but you weren’t a pro at this either.

“Oh, you’re always on the receiving end?” She snickers, looking down at you. Eyes piercing you, pinning you down in your place. She has this thing, it’s like magic, one look and you’re right where she wants you, how she wants you.

“Mostly…” you admit shyly, looking down again.

“Well, time to change that,” she says before pushing you against her pussy.

Your lips move shily at first, it’s almost as if you’re testing the ground. Kitten licks are all you give her, licking up her sweet cum while your nose rubs against her clit. You breathe deep, getting lost in her aroma.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” she praises, hand still caressing you but not pressing you down. If it was somebody else —even Johnny— she wouldn’t have hesitated to do so, but with you, she wants to take it slow and guide you through it.

You moan against her when Johnny pushes in again, this time he doesn’t wait before his hips start slamming against you, but he’s not going too fast. And the pleasure he’s fucking into you urges you to do better. You try to do what Johnny did to you before and every other person you’ve been with, and be better than the other times you’ve eaten pussy before.

“Yes, pretty girl, focus on the clit,” she instructs you, moving her hand down to caress your neck, and when you comply, a deep guttural moan rips from her throat. She hums in delight and your heart flips with pride. “Use your tongue.”

You hesitately stick your pink muscle out and poke it at her entrance but she stops you with a click of her tongue, “No, doll, up and down, come on, you can do it.” When your tongue starts doing that, licking her from the bottom of her entrance to the top, flicking your tip right under the hood of her clit, her legs shake and she pushes down a hiss. “So, so good, babydoll.”

“Shit, you’re so hot,” Johnny moans behind you, his hands holding tightly to your waist as he fucks you on his dick. He never imagined he’d be so turned on by this, but fuck, this is the dream. Seeing his wife’s face while you pleasure her, hearing her moan because of somebody else mouth, especially yours, makes him feel something he never felt before.

“You’re so good, doll. Such a fast learner, aren’t you? So eager to please us. So eager to be a good girl for us,” she moans, her fingers inevitably clenching around the roots of your hair when you suck hard on her clit. You seem to have found your scheme, keeping her pussy spread while your tongue runs on her labia and then your lips wrap around her clit, swift flicks of your tongue and shy hands testing what’s better.

You nod against her without pulling away, you could, but you don’t want to. You want to get drunk in her juices, you want to feel her thighs clench around your head —even if she’s trying hard not to do so— you want to hear her deep, intoxicating moans, you want her to pull your hair harder.

“Yes, you are,” she coos, meeting your half-lidded eyes, pushing down a guttural moan when a lonely tear rolls down your cheek, “you’re such a greedy little thing. One person it’s not enough for you, you need more. Is this enough or do you need even more, ugh? Bet you’d love it if we both fucked you at the same time.” Her condescending tone sends your brain into a spiral, you feel empty and yet overflowing, but you can’t reply. Johnny’s fucking you mercilessly now, big dick hitting you deep, striking all the right spots, and even if you’re giving something to her, you have zero control. You’re at their mercy, small and powerless, flushed between their bodies as you somehow do something like a robot.

“Loving eating her pussy while I fuck you hard?” This time is Johnny the one teasing you, his voice deeper but he gives no sign of slowing down, even if the pleasure is getting to him, you know it from his grunts and the way his hips falter every now and then. “Bet it feels so good to be muddy in our hands and have no worries in the world, right? You’re perfect here, nobody to impress,” he moans, leaning closer, his lips brushing your ear while his body presses you closer against the bed, “no father to make happy. Just us. Honestly,” he groans, pulling back, squeezing your hips before driving all the way in with a decisive thrust, sending you forward, “he’d have a heart attack if he saw you like this.”

You whine, your laments muffled by Aaliyah’s body, and you feel like you could explode. Is this why you like being with them so much? Because the fact that they like you so much proves your father wrong? The very people that he worships are busy worshipping his daughter while he trashes her around. But you don’t want to think of him, one, it could ruin your orgasm, two, you have them, and that’s all that matters. And to be honest, you love being with them so much because they value you and appreciate you for who you truly are.

You pull away, letting your fingers take the place of your mouth, rubbing on her clit while you talk, “want you, want more, please.”

“More? What’s more than this?” Johnny asks, snickering.

“Sit on my face?” You ask shily while you look up at her, cum and spit dripping down your chin, eyes glossy with tears.

She loses herself in the sight of you. You’re perfect even if you look like a mess, even if your eyes roll back and your lips part open when Johnny hits your sweet spot another time. “Oh… let’s not pull your luck too much tonight, hum?”

“But I —”

“But you, nothing,” she shushes you up, two fingers on your mouth. “You’re being so good, giving me pleasure while you take him so well. Just keep going.” She’d love to sit on your face, only being able to watch your eyes slowly blank as her hips roll against you, while your pretty hands wrap around her thighs as it slowly gets harder to breathe, but you’re not ready for that, yet.

You give up, starting where you stopped. But soon enough you’re whining again, “No, please, please, Sir,” you cry out, looking back to meet Johnny’s gaze for a split second.

He seems a bit startled by the way you address him, but he quickly shakes the surprise off to tease you with a condescending tone. “What’s wrong, honey? I thought you wanted more?” The pout that accompanies his words makes your stomach twist in a knot. You did want more, but the more was being smashed underneath them, not having his skilled fingers rub quick circles on your over-sensitive clit.

“I — I don’t want to come again,” you cry out.

“Oh, you won’t,” she speaks instead. “Don’t get too greedy and take it,” she orders, cupping your chin before pushing you between her legs again. Her patience could only last this long before she would snap.

“Right, because you can take it, right?” Johnny asks, tilting his head to get a peak of your flustered face. You’re burning up, sweat pearling your skin, the shorter hair sticking to your forehead, eyes blinking out tears of pleasure, and body squirming while you try so hard to keep focus on the only thing you have to do.

You doubt you can, but you still nod, moans getting choked up in your throat and against her cunt as you try to use your tongue and mouth the best you can even if control is slipping out of you more and more.

Fighting the orgasm is probably worse than keeping focus. Your stomach is upside down, and you feel all your nerves tense up, every single touch makes you jolt up and you know your throat will be sore by the end of the night for all the moans you’re letting out.

And you slip, eyes closing and mouth getting lazy as your body limply gets slammed between them.

“Hey,” you’re startled when her palm meets your face in quick, light slaps to wake you up, “don’t you fucking dare,” it’s the only warning that slips from her mouth, so sternly it should make you obey on the spot, but it only makes it harder for you to hold back. “Put that mouth to good use, come on.”

You don’t have a choice —not that you would want to do anything else— when she forces your face down again, this time grinding her hips against you to help you out, or honestly, to fuck herself against you because you’re not doing so much anymore.

She scoffs, “You’re being so good for Johnny, bet your pussy is sucking him in so well, dripping down to his balls and clenching tight, you can’t do one thing for me?”

You gasp for air when she yanks you back by the end of your hair, letting you breathe again, watching the tears fall freely from your pretty eyes. Your lashes are clumped together, and some mascara stained your cheeks; so, so pretty, she could stare at you forever.

“I can. I — I promise, I’ll be your good girl, I’ll give you what you want, fuck,” you mumble, words tangling on your tongue.

You’re so fucked out that spit is dripping down your chin, mixing with her cum, and she can’t fight the urge to smear it on your face.

Aaliyah could come by that sight only. To think when she first saw you were shily standing in a corner, trying to have less attention possible on you, stuttering your words at the speech your father made you hold, and almost fell down the stage. And now, you’re a mess in their bed, far away from home after you followed them blindly.

“Good, then use your fingers, come on,” she orders, biting her lips as you struggle to push your body up to finger her. This is exciting, with Johnny it had always been a fight for dominance, but with you, everything works perfectly, you fit between them with ease.

Johnny’s hands help you stand up, but he can’t deny how hot he finds the way you can’t control your body. He wishes he could see your face, you must be so pretty all messed up, but he’ll use his imagination.

“Come on, honey, fuck her, she took such good care of you,” Johnny encourages you, and that’s all you need to push two fingers inside of her. Her warm walls welcome you with ease, cum coating them until it drips down on your wrist.

Aaliyah’s face twists in an expression of pleasure as soon as you start curling your fingers. You’re definitely better with them than you are with your mouth, but it’s fine, there will be time to practice if you ever want to stick around.

“Good girl,” she praises, caressing your cheek gently before pulling you in a kiss. Doing so, Johnny slips out of you, and you whine at the loss, but soon enough he’s fucking into you again.

“Won’t — won’t last long,” you whimper, crying more as you feel heavier.

Johnny hums, pushing you down again and you lazily go back to lapping on her pussy while your fingers keep moving.

“Come here,” you hear him say, but he’s not talking to you. You can’t see, but you know they’re kissing because you feel smaller and more trapped as their bodies get closer, and then the wet sounds of their lips hit your ears. Their moans mix in their mouth, and you can feel the desperation they’re sharing as their teeth clash together.

You want to kiss them too, but you have other things to worry about, like the orgasm you can’t hold in anymore.

“Want to come, please,” you beg, tears adding to the mess between her legs as you try to gasp for more air.

They pull away from the kiss, bringing their attention to you another time.

“You want to come?” You nod swiftly. She’s sure you’re not doing it on purpose but the way your big eyes are looking up at her and your lips tremble, make her heart warm up. You’re so precious. “Then don’t stop fucking me,” she orders, voice low that causes your stomach to twist again. “Don’t stop being a perfect, little, mindless fuckdoll for us.”

Johnny growls, rolling his head back, “Fuck, stop talking to her like that, she’s squeezing me.”

Aaliyah chuckles darkly, sweetly mockingly caressing your wet cheeks. “You want me to stop talking to her because you can’t handle a sweet pussy sucking you in?”

He rolls his eyes and throws his head back, scoffing at her comment.

“It’s not my fault she likes it when I talk down to her,” she coos, looking at him but her words hit you deep. It’s so humiliating the way they’re talking about you as if you’re not here, and yet, it only makes you wetter. “I could do so much more, but I doubt she can take it.”

I can. You scream, but it stays inside your brain, no words can come out of your mouth anymore.

They both giggle at your broken moan that comes out as a reply.

“No thoughts left in that little mind of yours, uhm?” Johnny teases, his fingers playing with your nipples making you cry out more.

Your head is abandoned on her thigh, drool dripping out of the corner of your lips while your fingers pump in and out in tired, messy movements. You’re so far gone that she has to help you fuck her by guiding your wrist.

“Except how good it feels to be surrounded by us. You love it when we trap you between us and make you feel small, don’t you? Bet you’d love it even more if I fucked your mouth with a toy while he fucked your pussy, or maybe the other way around.”

You yelp when someone smacks your ass, you don’t care to figure out if it’s him or her. It doesn’t matter, it only adds to the pleasure and dizziness.

“Or maybe we could each take a hole and stuff you til you break,” Johnny giggles lowly. “Your tight ass and pussy spread by us.”

“Please,” you cry out. Please make me come and please do it. Please fuck me at the same time, from both ends and until I’m nothing between you. But it stays inside, they get it anyway, like they get all of you.

“C’mere,” Johnny chuckles as he manoeuvres you, lifting your body and pushing you closer to his wife. You’re kneeling now, body slumped against hers while he presses you flat, your fingers still moving inside of her while you moan in the crook of her neck. It feels warm, almost romantic, and you feel so small. 

The hand that is not helping you fuck her, wraps around your waist and starts rubbing circles on your burning hot skin, meeting Johnny’s that doing the same.

“Look at you, doll, you’ve been so good. What do you say, John, should she come?” Aaliyah’s voice is particularly sweet, reaching your ear like a faint melody and you feel farther and farther from your body.

“I think she deserves it,” Johnny replies, kissing your neck to distract you from his hand slipping down to your clit.

Your teeth sink into her skin, making her hiss, not in pain but most in surprise, and your face wets even more while a loud sob rips from your throat.

“Come on, princess,” she whispers close to you, leaving pecks on top of your head, “be a good girl and come with us.”

You don’t let them tell you twice when their pace fastens and all the stimuli get to your head one last time. This orgasm is like an explosion that leaves you trembling between their bodies, whimpering and moaning as the violent waves shock you to the core.

“Fuck, so fucking tight,” Johnny murmurs under his breath, hips slamming messily against your ass as he chases his orgasm. He’s caught up in your face before his eyes fall on his wife’s pussy, you stopped fucking her and she’s trying to rub her fingers on her clit, if you weren’t so far gone, brain mush in your skull, she would’ve said something, but she knows is no use now.

You’re collapsed on her body when your eyes trail between her legs, watching in awe as Johnny’s fingers fuck her fast and his thumb rubs her clit as he keeps pouding into you. Their moans are louder as they approach their release and her head falls against the board of the bed while her hands clench around your waist to hold onto something.

And you come again. An unexpected fourth orgasm washes over you, ass arching up and nails sinking into her thigh as you feel as life is being sucked away from you, and that’s what pushes them over the edge, your soft, broken whimpers mixing with theirs and your low mumbles of their names, it’s not Mr. and Mrs. Suh, is Johnny and Aaliyah now, only for you.

More curses fill the air before everything comes to a stop, Johnny’s body falling on yours for a second before he forces himself to pull out and roll to the side.

“Hey, it’s alright, it’s alright. Come here,” she whispers, soothing you as she pulls your body closer, hugging you and caressing your back and hair. You’re still shaking and crying, and your hands wrap quickly around her. “You’re fine, we’re here. It’s over.”

Soon after you feel Johnny’s hands too, and then his soothing words. “You’ve been so good, princess. Was it fun?”

His question is left unanswered, and they understand it will take you a while to start talking again. So they keep whispering sweet words to your ears while their hands calm you down with gentle touches. You don’t remember how long it takes before you fall into a deep slumber, but you know you feel a sense of peace you never felt before.

When you wake up, the clock hits midnight, you’re alone in the bed but you’re cleaned up and you’re dressed in a white shirt that reaches your thighs.

Somehow your legs carry your body out of the room and down the stairs where you take a sigh of relief seeing them laughing as they sit at the table. They’re dressed again, Johnny’s hair is brushed in its place, and her braids are pulled up in a bun again, they look as composed as usual but more familiar.

“Hey, you’re up?” Johnny is the first one who sees you and welcomes you with a sweet smile.  

“We were starving. We wanted you to eat but you fell asleep, and for how intense it was we figured you were going to sleep until morning,” Aaliyah explains, moving a stool so you could sit between them, tapping on the seat to signal you to reach them.

You push your feet forward, legs wobbly and heart still racing, but this time is not the orgasm. You’re still lost in the haze, but now you’re fully aware of what happened, and you don’t know how to act in the aftermath.

“Are you alright? You stopped talking, it worried us a bit,” she says, lifting her hand to caress your nape after she tucked your hair behind your ear.

You nod, shoulders dropping as the tension disappears at her touch. “I’m fine. I guess it was a lot, it never happened before.”

Johnny comes back to you with a glass of water and some bowls with different food, leaving you a choice between fruits, something sweet, and something salty.

“Thanks,” you reply, grabbing the glass and gulping it in one go. “Honestly, I’m not really hungry,” you say, eyes diverting their gazes, there’s still a bit of worry behind them and you’re not used to people caring so much for you, especially after sex. You don’t think you ever saw a one-night-stand the morning after, but not even your exes cared much about how you felt after sex.

“No? Do you need something else?” Johnny asks, a caring tone filling his words, and the look in his eyes is different than all the other times before.

You look around, shaking your head, your throat is dry again and from the corner of your eyes, you see her filling the glass again. You smile shyly before drinking it. “I… I don’t want to sleep alone,” you confess, biting your lips and playing with the hem of the glass in your hands.

They smile, hands cupping yours before holding tight. “We had no intention of leaving you alone,” they say at the same time, making you smile.

“A bit paranoid, aren’t you?” Johnny jokes while Aaliyah leaves to put the food back in its place. You might be awake but it’s clear as daylight that you’re still tired and want to sleep.

“Mhh,” you mumble. Your eyes lift to look at Johnny and you smile. He looks beautiful, the faint silver light of the moonlight paiting his cheekbones and hair.

“And still not very talkative,” she adds when she comes back, a soft look in her eyes. “Come on, there’s no need to talk, let’s get you to bed.” She stretches a hand out and you quickly grab it, jumping off the chair but regretting it when your legs make it known they’re not back just yet.

You gasp when two arms wrap around you and lift you up, and soon you’re met with Johnny’s eyes. You smile at him before locking eyes with her who’s following behind and quickly is at your side.

“Thanks,” you whisper because he’s carrying you but mostly, for the night you spent. You decide you will worry tomorrow, for now, you feel full, they made you feel wanted, and dare to say, even loved. It’s all that matters.

“You have to be grateful, he stopped carrying me upstairs a long time ago,” she jokes and Johnny scoffs, “Liar.”

And soon the three of you are in the bed again, the dirty duvet is not on the mattress anymore and a thinner blanket covers you. You’re in the middle, pressed between their bodies while they leave kisses on your face, and whisper sweet words to you, their hands intertwined on your stomach while their thumbs rub small circles on your skin.

And as sleep takes over you again, you think that there’s no other place you’d rather be, if not between them.

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[lovelywritinglady]

Tengen +wives x reader

When the reader comes for a abusive household as a kid and suffers from depression and PTSD and has flashbacks often (like for example if it gets too loud or when she sees any type of violence) she has a breakdown she has a natural tendency to run as far away as possible to find her safe place (her room Tengen gives reader her own bedroom for when this happens) she sometimes forgets that she has a husband and wives she sometimes mistakes them for her parents and thinks they are going to do something to her (what Tengen and his wives are trying to do is to calm her down but nothing is working they give her some space they decide to get her favorite food and just forgets what happens) when they get back to their house reader is no longer in their room but in the backyard and has the most beautiful set up for dinner and wants to apologize for making a scene in public and want to make up because sometimes she feels like a burden because of the problems that she has but reassures reader they she is not a burden in anyway.

You’re Not A Burden

Tengen x wives x fem!reader

Angst, mentions of mental health issues, triggering subjects, fluff, and reassuring themes. Tengen and the wives are the literal best! Rough language and slight physical violence.

 Your Pov

The morning was crisp and clear with a slight feel of dew that has kissed the evergreen grass. I normally wake up earlier than the rest of my loves and make their food and start fixing the house from the night before. I do this to feel useful and to help out as much as I can considering the fact that I'm not a shinobi nor am I a demon slayer. Hell, I'm not really sure who I am except the fact that I'm in love with four people that are so strong and skilled. However, most of the time I'm terrified that they will push me away and throw me out. My father and mother did that a few years ago. They claimed that I was nothing a no one would ever want me and that I would die on the streets. I believed them until my husband Tengen came along and took me into his home. I then met his wives and all of us somehow fell in love. I'm forever grateful for their love and care.

Taking a deep breath of the morning air I smiled with delight before making my way into the house to make breakfast for everyone. As I walked in I was already met with Makio and Suma making a fuss just like they do every morning. As Tengen and Hina were sitting at the table drinking their tea that I had prepared this morning. I smiled at my family starting on breakfast.

"Y/n, good morning my dear!" My sweet husband beamed at me.

"Yes, good morning love." Hina chimed in.

"Good morning everyone, food will be served shortly." I responded with a loving smile.

The other two that paused their bickering, looked at me and immediately went to my side. "Can we help?" they both said in unison quite loudly which startled me a bit.

"No, its okay, I can manage. But thank you so much!" I beamed at them tying not to seem nervous.

"Are you sure?" Suma asked blinking her eyes adorably.

"Yes, I'm sure." I reassured her and she just smiled and went to the table along with Makio and sat themselves next to Tengen.

After a few short moments breakfast was served and my loves began digging in, but not before blessing the food and giving me thanks. I smiled at their gratitude and began eating my meal with them. And as if on cue, Suma and Makio began bickering which always made me nervous, but at this point I was use to it. That was until all hell broke lose when Suma accidentially moved in the wrong way which caused Maikio to bump into Tengen. He then moved himself out of the way which made him knock his tea on his lap that made him jump up and knock his plate along with the spilled tea cup onto the floor making a very loud crashing sound.

"You idiots, stop messin around. You made me spill the tea and food all over the fucking floor. Be more careful!" Tengen roared loudly as he sat back down sighing as he did.

Suma and Makio were frantically apologizing and Tengen was scolding  for their clumsiness , Hina was looking at me and asking me things. However, for some reason, I couldn't hear her nor the bickering that was happening at the end of the table. My breathing was heavy and it felt as though my entire being was shrouded in a storm cloud. My eyes felt heavy with tears and I'm sure I was making a face. All of it was too much and I abruptly left the room as my anxieties got too much. I ran as fast as I could to my room, locking the door as I did. I tried slowing my breathing and different methods of calming myself that I have learned over the years. However, none of that was effective as I soon found myself remembering that horrible day. The day that I was so sure would be my last day. The day my father and mother told me that I was nothing and that it would have been better if I was just dead. My mother always went on about how her body was ruined because of me and how I would never amount to anything. All of these words were echoing in my mind now. My body shook and my breathing was worse now. It felt like the air was filled with thick smog. I put my hands over my ears trying to block out the noises.

Suddenly, I felt large hand touch my shoulders and my head shot up and I saw a blurry figure trying to talk to me. I immediately retreated back screaming at the figure. "Go away! Leave me alone!" The figure walked closer and images of my father flashed through my mind and at that moment I concluded that it was him. He found me even after I had run away from him and my mother. 'Oh God was she here?' I though to myslelf. I began frantically searching the room in search of her too. As if on cue, a female figure walked into the room as well. I screamed again thinking that the figure must be her. "Please I didn't do anything! Mom please I'm sorry don't hate me dad!" I whiled pushing myself against the wall trying to get away from them. It was all too much the figures getting closer and their faces getting clearer. As soon as I realized that the blurred figures were the loves of my life. I felt relieved as I then passed out from pure exhaustion.

When I woke up I was alone in my room surrounded by darkness. My throat felt dry and I tried calling out at something yet nothing came out. After gathering some of my strength I walked out into the kitchen to find it empty. However, a pitcher with water and a small plate of cookies were placed next to it along with a note. I sat down and poured myself a large glass of water and chugged it. I smiled at the care my loved ones show. I took small bites of the cookies savoring every delicious bite nearly crying at how good they were. I then remembered the note and carefully unfolded it.

It read, "Y/n, we love you and were are so sorry that you had a hard day today. You've gotten so much better at managing your trauma and we are so very proud of you. Tomorrow all of us are going to the festival of flowers in the afternoon. You are more than welcome to join us! And please know that you do not need to talk about what happened if you don't want to. If you decide you want to, we are all here for you. We love you so much!”With love, Tengen, Hina, Makio, and Suma.

To say I was balling my eyes out was a complete understatement. I hated when my meltdowns happened but, their love and compassion for me was truly unmatched. Most of the time I question why I deserve them as much as I do. I decided right then and there that a little date outing would be nice and might be just what I need after today. So, I finished my delicious food, cleaned up, and went back to my room for some much needed rest before tomorrow.

The next day, I woke up around the same time I always do to fix my loves their tea and breakfast. However, I was met with the tea already made and all four of my lovers making breakfast. I chuckled at the sight of them attempting to make breakfast. They all turned to me and smiled telling me that breakfast was nearly done and to enjoy the tea that was set out. To my surprise, the tea was delicious and was the perfect mixture of sweet and bitter, just the way it should be. I complimented the tea and as soon as I did Tengen boasted that he had made it all by himself and to that I, of course, thanked him graciously. Its not everyday that the sound hashira himself makes people tea. Soon enough the food was ready and again it was good and I wondered to myself I they really needed me to cook for them everyday considering they can make such food by themselves. And as if Makio could read my mind, she suddenly patted my back and spoke.

"You dummy, I know that face and your cooking is the best I've ever had. No one can cook like you can and even if you couldn't cook very well, I know damn well that I'd still eat it because I love you." she reassured as she then kissed my cheek and began munching on her food. The others agreed which caused me to feel my cheeks heat with slight embarrassment.

Soon we finished, got dressed, and made our way to town that was beautifully decorated to match the theme. The streets were packed with people all excited for the festival. As the trees were in full bloom as the petals that were blown off were covering the streets like a beautiful multicolored blanket of snow. It was a breathtaking sight and I looked at Hina who was already looking at me with a sickly sweet smile that it felt as though the view of the blossoms no longer mattered as much as her smile. God I felt so lucky.

"Hey, Hey, Hey! Girls lets go over there!" Suma squealed with pure excitement as she grabbed mine and Makio's arm dragging us to a nearby stand. Her eyes sparkled with excitement at all of the things that were for sale. I was even interested in some of them and so was Hina and Makio. Tegnen saw our excitement as he patted us on the head.

"Pick something out you four and I'll get it for ya!" Tengen said smiling at us.

"Are you sure, Lord Tengen?" I asked my generous husband

"Of course my love." he responded pinching my cheek softly.

The four of us all picked out our items as there were a number of ones to choose from I choose a simple yet beautiful hair pin that I thought would compliment my h/t h/c hair. Hina got a scarf, Makio got a ring, and Suma decided to get a cute plush to add to her ever growing collection. Tengen looked at our items and seemed happy with what we decided to get and promptly paid for them thanking the booth owner as he paid. He then walked to me gently grabbing the hair pin.

"My I put this in your hair, Y/n?" He asked in that to-die-for voice he has that made me melt. I nodded my head already flustered by him as he put it in the side of my head. It sat comfortably and I turned to look in the mirror that was provided my the booth owner admiring my new accessory. I thanked Tengen for the gift as he went to the other three. He than wrapped Hina's scarf around her, placed Makio's ring on her middle finger, and patted the head of Suma's plush. We all blushed and gawked at our husband as he began walking the streets looking at all there was around to see. We followed him as we too admired the sights around us. I decided to walk slightly ahead of him not realizing that I would venture much farther than anticipated. As I wasn't looking out for my surroundings properly and accidentally bumped into a rather large man who knocked me down into the streets.

"Hey watch where you're going you clumsy bitch!" The man yelled as the woman he was with began laughing at the state I was in.

"I'm sorry sir I didn't mean to." I pleaded with him as tears fell down my now dirty and slightly scratched up face.

"Aww, look what you did!" He yelled looking down at his feet that were now ever so slightly dusted with dirt. It was so slightly there that I had to nearly squint just to see it. Even still, I felt bad.

"I'm so sorry, here I'll find something to clean it with." I said standing up quickly as to find something to clean his shoe with. That same familiar feeling arouse and everything felt foggy once again. I felt my breathing get harder and the same feeling of tightness in my throat began to appear. I knew in my heart that bumping into someone is not the biggest deal, but the way this man was acting make it seem like I was the most vile creature he has ever laid eyes on. The people surrounding us began to whisper and I swear I heard even more people start to laugh. It became too much and too overwhelming. My cries escalated into full blown panic crying. He smirked at this, and I could tell his man was a vile man, just like my father...

"Hey get the fuck away from my wife!" Yelled my husband as he made his way through the tight crowd of people along with my wives. He had a look on his face that I don't think I've ever seem before. Tengen then walked up to the man grabbed him by his clothes, picked him up, and slammed him down on the dirt. And I could swear that Tengen might have broken something. Despite the shock of what just happened, I was still in tears from being overwhelmed and bullied. Hina, Makio, and Suma tried to calm me down by it was like their words were muffled. I heard a few "It's not your fault," "That man is ugly Y/n, don't listen to ugly people like him," and "You're gonna be okay." All of it fell on deaf ears and I felt like this hell was never going to end. Tengen then joined and instead of talking to me, he picked me up and using his speed, began running with me in his arms. Not even a few minutes later we were at our home. I quickly jumped out of his arms and ran to my safe space: my room.

I made a beeline not even stopping when I heard him calling out my name. I needed to be somewhere familiar and I needed to be alone. I took off my shoes and jumped in my bed covering myself with my blanked as I curled into a tight ball. I then covered my ears and cried into my pillow trying to make all the world go away. After a few minutes, I heard the soft knocking on my door and a few voices asking if I was okay. I couldn't speak, I couldn't do anything but cry and wish that the world would stop for one second just so I could breathe. The voices died down after a few minutes and I assumed that my lovers gave up trying to persuade me to talk to them. I appreciated that and I think they picked up the fact that the only thing I needed now was to just be alone.

A few hours later...

Opening my eyes and opening the covers, I was met with a sun kissed room and a plate of my favorite food and drink next to my bed. God I felt so awful, not just because I felt physically bad, but because it just dawned on me that I caused a pretty big scene in a public place. And that's something that I've never done before. I felt so heavy with guilt that I wanted to cry all over again, but what good would that do? All I feel like I do is cry. Shit, I just realized that I need to start on dinner. Do they hate me now? Are they angry with me? Did I embarrass them? I really don't know right now and there was no use in overthinking as my brain simply couldn't handle all of that right now. So, I did the only thing that I felt was right in that moment. I looked at the plate and began eating the food that was placed out for me. I then got up and refreshed myself and decided that it was best that I try to make it up to them. I don't make a really big meal often, but I decided that it was only right considering all they have had to go through these past few days and honestly since they've met me.

I walked into the kitchen fully prepared to be met with the stares or constant questions of my lovers. However, It was empty and another note was placed stating that they were called for a mini mission and would be back a little past dinner time. Honestly, I was relieved that they weren't here so that I could surprise them all with their favorite foods. I mean it's only fair considering they took the time to prepare mine. So, I grabbed all of the necessary ingredients to make each main dish, side dish, and dessert that they each love. Meaning that I was going to make a shit ton of food, but it would be worth it just for them.

Finally, after a few hours of cooking I was finally done with the meal. I was lucky that my loves hadn't come home yet so that I could set the table too. I quickly ran to the storage room grabbing the spare table so that they could eat in the backyard and enjoy the fresh air. Soon enough, the table was set and the food was placed as neatly as possible. I stood back for a moment and admired my work. I then felt arms wrap around my waist. I yelped in surprise, quickly turning around only to be met with the sweet faces of Makio who quickly hugged me more and I returned it without question. Suma, Hina, and Tengen were also there smiling.

"Damn Y/n, you made whole feast!" Tengen spoke walking towards the table.

"Yeah, please all of you feel free to sit down. I made your favorites." You told all of them as the rest made their way to the table.

"Wow, this is amazing Y/n dear! What's the occasion?" Hina asked as she sat in her seat.

"Well, I just wanted to apologize, but I really wanted to do something your you guys too. Honestly, these last few days have been really hard on me and especially you guys." I spoke

"Y/n, we love you and are you for you." Suma proclaimed with slight tears forming in her beautiful eyes.

"I love you guys too. I just really feel like i have been burdening you guys. I mean look what happened today and yesterday as well as throughout our relationship together. I'm still a lot even though I have gotten better over the years. The harsh words of my parents still haunt me and I'm so sorry for that." I spoke as very thick tears streamed down my face and I mentally cursed myself for crying again. I hugged myself crying harder now and feeling so gilty for the behavoirs that I've shown recently. Strong arms wrapped around my body and I knew exactly who was there.

"Oh my dear, y/n you've never been a burden my love." Tengen spoke softly as I wrapped my arms around him tightly sobbing into his chest. "You are so lovely and so sweet. No one as wonderful as you could ever be a burden. Y/n you came from a shit situation and it was you that left that. You're so incredibly strong and flashy at that. I love you, we all do because you're honestly one of the strongest people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting." Tengen said hugging me tighter. I was still crying, but this time my tears were replaced with happy tears. "Now come on and let's eat." He said in normal tone looking at me with that flashy smile he always has.

"Yeah, lets do that. Only problem is I only made food for you guys, so I'll just sit and drink some tea." I told him a little embarrassed that I didn't think to make food for myself too. I looked at my wives and they just smiled at me.

"Well, I guess you'll just have to share with me then, love." Tengen suggested as he grabbed my hands we made our way to the table.

"You can have some of mine too!" Suma interjected

"Me too. Y/n there is plenty to share! Thank you for making all of our favorites!" Hina spoke as she began fixing a plate.

"Yeah! I don't mind sharing too!" Makio agreed as she started making a plate too.

"You guys are so sweet!" I exclaimed sitting down in between tengen and Hina. As soon as I sat down she placed a plate of food in front of me and I thanked her for her kindness as she put her hand on my shoulder as I looked up at her.

"Y/n I just wanted to say that Tengen is right, you could never be a burden to us. We all love you and respect you so much. If you ever need any of us, we will be here for you always. I really hope you know that you can rely on us." Hina reassured as she moved he hand to my face stroking my cheek softly before turning away to start making her own plate.

"I agree with Hina Y/n. If you ever need me please don't hesitate to come to me. I'll do my best to be there for you." Makio told me as she too placed food on my plate.

"Yeah, me too Y/n. I love you!" Suma spoke too with a mouth full of food.

"Hey, don't eat yet you dummy." Makio snapped pinching Suma's ear

"Makio, that's mean!" Suma whined softly. I began laughing slightly at their antics. They are so predictable, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Makio be nice, please." Hina asked sweetly

"Fine." Makio cutely pouted

"Alright girls, lets eat before this good food gets cold." Tengen said as we all nodded in agreement.

We all began eating but not before giving thanks. It was a wonderful evening and I felt so lucky that I was blessed enough to be around such good people. They would never hurt me and I knew that part of me will always feel bad for mistaking them for bad people, but another part of knew knew that they would never resent me for that. That thought gave me so much comfort and more than anything I knew that I was loved.

Thank you so much for reading and thank you to whoever requested this fic! Sorry it took me so long to complete this. 💜

Please feel free to like, comment, request, and reblog.

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

•I do NOT own any characters expect y/n and any original characters•

L.W.L

[badwolf-gallagher88]

Wild Nights - Wild Nights!

Noel Gallagher x Reader

A wild party. An accidental walk in. A prolonged stay in a cloak room. A serenade and a poem.

Noel Gallagher expresses his feelings.

Rating: Mature

Words: 2804

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65576971 or below cut:

“She wore a star-shaped tambourine, prettiest girl I’d ever seen!”

Her voice was shrill and out of tune, fuelled mostly by the mirth of too much champagne. She stood on the piano stool, swaying slightly, grasping her friend Lizzie’s shoulders when she feared she was about to lose balance. 

“Stop, stop! What if he hears you!” Lizzie’s tone was stern, cautioning even - that was, until she burst out laughing herself.

She sat back down, straddling the piano stool, pulling her red dress to the side. “He won’t hear. It’s not like the man will have left his trained team of sixty concubines, or if he has, he’ll be holed up in the office with a bottle of vodka.”

“You shouldn’t call his employees concubines - they’re hard working professionals.”

“Hard working professionals who all want to get in his pants,” she murmured, tucking a stray hair behind her friend’s ear. Lizzie giggled again. 

She leaned her forehead against Lizzie’s, breathing in the scent of her perfume. Her friend lessened the remaining gap, joining their lips in a tangle of electric memory and laughter. Since she’d started working at Lone Star studios, Lizzie had been her escape from these weekly parties. They never spoke about it afterwards, they were never more than friends. It was just a way to find some control and organisation in the madness. A way to centre themselves, to put the night’s energy into something fun, and diverting, but without the pain of a relationship that truely meant something. 

She had never wanted it to mean anything more than an escape. Sometimes, she feared Lizzie wanted more. It was that fear which drove her to pull away suddenly. And it was only then she saw him. 

Noel stood, leaning against the door. A tumbler of whisky in one hand, the other slack by his side. His face was emotionless, unsmiling. The same look he gave the press when they were bothering him. He saw her looking, and turned and walked away.

She had all but forgotten Lizzie in that moment, but now her friend’s concerned features brought her back to the moment she - no, he - had disrupted.

“Creepy, huh?” Lizzie muttered. The light had gone from her eyes now, her mood sobered as well.  

“Mmm, creepy.” But it was more than that - the look in his eyes hadn’t been drunk voyeurism, it had been anger. Not for the first time since she’d started the job, she wondered whether there was any love in the man who spent his life writing love songs.

-

She and Lizzie had returned to the party for a while, kissing - and the incident - forgotten. Even more copious amounts of champagne were consumed, and before long Lizzie was dragging her and numerous others down a corridor towards fresh air and the outside world. The door had been wedged open, London’s bitter cold sneaking in. The doorframe was surrounded by a hazy halo of street light, giving it an ethereal, magical quality. It seemed as if it led to a different world outside, something far away from continuous parties and drunken laughter. 

She had mysteriously sobered since Noel’s interruption. She had lost her appetite for alcohol, and couldn’t shake the feeling that something was slightly off. She lingered behind Lizzie and her growing group of acquaintances, but could not escape her friend’s attention.

“We’re getting a taxi home - Carlos can barely stand” she interrupted herself with a fit of giggles, largely directed at Carlos’ - whoever he may be’s - inability to walk in a straight line. “Do you want to join?”

“No, it’s okay, I’ll take the Tube. You’ll only have to go out of the way to get to mine”.

“You sure? It’s pretty late… You’ll be safe on your own?”

She nodded, though part of her knew it was somewhat foolish to take the underground alone, so late at night. 

“She won’t be alone.”

His voice was surprisingly mellow compared to their drunken furore. She hadn’t heard him approach, but he stood just behind their little group, watching her intently. Wondering what she would say. There wasn’t really much she could say - it wasn’t like she’d mess with her big scary rockstar boss.

“Yeah, sure. Thanks, Noel”.

Lizzie looked at her quizzically, opening her mouth as if to speak and then shutting it again quickly.

“Come, get your coat”. Before she could reply, he traipsed into the cloakroom, not looking behind to see if she followed.

“Sure you’ll be okay?” Lizzie’s concern was genuine, yet the tone of puzzlement had not left her voice.

“Course,” she replied, faking a smile. Lizzie nodded, but just before she turned away mouthed ‘creepy’. She smothered a laugh, and followed Noel down the corridor.

-

When she entered the room, he was stood, back to her, absently studying the coats. One of his leather jackets was hung over his shoulder, and she noticed for the first time what he was wearing. The crisp white shirt and suit trousers looked anachronistically formal, especially when she considered his unwillingness to abandon the jacket. Sometimes she wondered what had happened to the patterned shirts he’d worn in the nineties, but she didn’t mind the new style. 

Presuming he was waiting for her, she started scanning for her coat. “Sorry, it’s black wool like everyone else’s. There’s silver embroidery on the cuffs though, thought I’d get something a bit special -“

Her jabbering was cut off. 

“You a lesbian?”

“What?” she replied immediately. She knew he wasn’t the most progressive of people, but she hadn’t thought this would be a problem. 

He repeated the question more forcefully, yet he still faced away from her. “Are. You. A. Lesbian?”

She decided it was better to be upfront. “No, I’m bi -“. She began to add he shouldn’t care anyway, that it was ironic coming from the man whom a quick internet search would reveal kissing his own brother. She was stilled however by his outtake of breath, and quietly muttered ‘thank god’. 

Before she knew it, he’d turned around. Eyes like fire, he advanced towards her, pulling her toward him. Noel’s hands were rough on her bare shoulders, and the rings on his fingers made cool circles on her skin. That was all she had time to register, before his lips were pressed against hers. He was desperate, sucking the air from her lungs, taking and giving nothing in return. She could almost feel the fire of his need transferring itself from him to her, a desperation taking hold. Just as she began to respond - 

He pulled away, wiping a hand over his forehead. 

“Shit, I’m meant to ask permission to do that nowadays, ain’t I?” He hummed quietly, and for a moment she thought he was angry with her - or himself - again. But then he crafted the hum into a tune:

“‘Scuse me if I spoke too soon, my eyes have always followed you around the room.”

His voice was soft, ethereal even in the padded space of the cloak room. A tiny light spreading through the semi darkness. Leading this man - this man old enough to be her father, rich enough to buy everything she owned, smart enough to be able to read every human emotion in others, but not himself - leading this man towards her. 

Finally it struck her - it had been jealousy he felt. Jealousy, not anger. 

-

“Noel…” she whispered, unsure of what to say. She hadn’t noticed before, overcome by shock, but he’d dropped the leather jacket when he’d reached for her. She bent down, picked it up and hung it on the stand nearest her. Buying herself time to think. 

“How long?” she finally decided on. 

“Since the moment you walked through my office doors. Since the moment I kept hoping Alice would prolong her maternity leave so you would keep coming through those doors. From the time I was singing alone in the studio, and you stopped to watch thinking I couldn’t see. From the time I messed up every note after that, because I wasn’t concentrating on the guitar anymore. From the time I saw you tonight kissing someone else, but not just anyone else, someone else who made it impossible that person was ever me. Since I realised: That. Fucking. Hurt.”

She stepped forward, moving slowly, cautiously toward him. She had not contemplated how she felt - not fully, at least. Perhaps she had sought him out in some ways, perhaps her quotidian was defined by how many times she caught a glimpse of him. It was all so impossible she had never even thought about it in depth. But she kept walking, because she could, and because he wanted her too, and because what was the worst that could happen?

She reached forward, tracing her fingers up the sleeves of his shirt. He stood rigid, immobile. Almost as if he moved, she might stop. She continued to his neck, tracing the veins that stood strong as he tensed. Slowly, she tested him. He was taller than her, but in her boots she didn’t have to reach too far. She pressed her lips to the veins she had been tracing.

She heard his breath hitch.

She let her lips linger, then moved steadily up his jaw. Finally he moved, her teasing paid off. His hands came to her shoulders, forcing her to face him. 

Then he was kissing her. The same hunger that had consumed him remained, yet infiltrated by a gentleness, a respect. The force returned momentarily, as he manoeuvred her towards the cloakroom wall. His hand went to her hip, bracing her, bracing himself. 

She was breathless, yet all she could breathe was him - salty - he was sweating - the cigarette smoke, the bitter taste of alcohol- huh, that should be funny, the logical voice cried - but there was no logic, only him. Him drawing closer, fiddling with their clothes, his hand was on her thigh, her dress was not where it was supposed to be, she could feel him drawing closer, 

Oh, so, much closer and 

Oh -

-

Afterwards, they sat on the cloakroom floor together. They didn’t say much, just relished in the silence and closeness of each other’s bodies. He helped rearrange her dress, his fingers surprisingly gentle. Eventually, Noel stood up, reaching a hand toward her. 

“I should take you home.”

He found her coat, and draped it over her shoulders. He took his leather jacket from where she’d left it and put it on. They traipsed down the corridor together, towards the door that Lizzie and her friends had left open. Out into the London night.

With his hand about her hip, they walked down the opalescent streets towards the Tube station. His confidence had returned - his hand gripped her as if to assert ownership. They saw no one. His grip didn’t lessen. As he relaxed, she finally felt the urge to speak again.

“You like the night, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Like a cat”. 

“You’ve been watching too many of my old interviews”. He frowned, and she worried she’d upset him. 

“Sorry.“

They continued walking. The silence stretched on. Finally, he murmured a reply. 

“Don’t be. I’d watch old interviews of you every minute of the day if there were any”. 

They kept walking, yet his fingers slipped from her waist into her own hand. He squeezed tightly, his rings digging into her skin. It was oddly comforting. 

When they reached the station, the tension returned to his body. He started glancing around in the fluorescent lights, looking for people looking for him. She squeezed his hand once more, then let go. No need to fuel rumours if they were spotted.

“You can go back now if you want.” She said it truthfully, though reluctantly, as they waited for the train. 

“No. I promised to take you home.” She nodded, smiling slightly.

-

When the train arrived, they found themselves alone in the carriage. His energy returned, and with it some of her own semi-drunken enthusiasm. 

She sat with her feet on the seat, leaning against his warm body. He shrugged off the leather jacket, placing it over her legs. 

“Who’s your favourite poet?”

Between the heady scent of his aftershave and the proximity of his body, her mind couldn’t register the oddly philosophical question for a moment.

“Umm… I quite like Emily Dickinson.”

“Course you do. You’re not gonna beat the lesbian allegation with that one, you know.”

“Funny - your songs sound a lot like her poems. Okay then, what about Lord Byron. Dashing hero, sexual fiend, bisexual king?”

“Better, better.” He smirked. 

“What about you?”

“Arthur Rimbaud. Sad yet hopeful. Like the symbolists. Something to do with the daddy issues, I suppose. RKID shaped issues too.”

“Getting candid now, Sir. How many drinks did you end up having?”

“More than you could stomach, princess. Despair does amazing things to a grown man’s capacity for drink.”

She smiled. The nickname was more endearing than she thought it would be, spoken in his Mancunian accent. 

“Is the despair gone now?”

He took a minute to respond, burying his face momentarily in her hair. 

“Yes. Yes, I think it is.”

-

He walked her home right to the door. She unlocked it slowly, savouring every moment she had with him. She did not presume to suppose there would be many more. Still holding his jacket from the train, she made a move to hand it back to him. 

“No, hang onto it. You can give it back to me Monday, or never. I don’t mind, it’s not like I don’t have more. There’s a pill in the top pocket - y’know, stop any unwanted consequences. I’m too old for more of that shit. And there’s something else for you as well in the inside pocket. I’ve had it a while, not quite sure why… no, never mind. It just seemed right. That’s all you need to know.”

She smiled, said thank you politely, blushing. The door was unlocked. Their time was up. He leant forward, kissing her gently. First on the lips, then along her jaw, and finally upon her brow line. 

He turned and walked away without another word. 

-

When she got inside, she raced up to the bedroom, jacket in hand. She took out the pill, swallowing it dry. He was right about unwanted consequences - motherhood wasn’t for her. Then she reached into the inner pocket, and felt a small, flat box. It had been wrapped crudely in brown paper, and tied with a black ribbon in a sloppy knot. She could see where he’d misplaced the sticky tape and peeled it off again, and the fraying from trying - and failing - to create a bow. It warmed her to see his humanity at last. 

She unwrapped the gift, revealing the plain blue box. Pulling off the lid, she found a leaf of paper was wedged inside. She put it aside, revealing a small, golden ring. 

It was not austere, nor large and masculine like his collegiate monstrosity. The band was thin, intaglio markings of leaves around it. She pulled it from the packaging, turning it over. Inside was inscribed N.G. She put it on - it fit exactly. Then she turned to the paper she had discarded, and found written on it a short poem:

Wild Nights - Wild Nights!

Were I with thee

Wild Nights should be 

Our luxury!

Futile - the Winds - 

To Heart in port -

Done with the Compass -

Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden -

Ah, the Sea!

Might I but moor - Tonight - 

In Thee!

He’d copied Emily Dickinson’s words in his own hand. A secret admirer after all. 

She rolled over, reaching for her own coat. She fumbled with the pocket, pulling out her phone. 

Quickly, she texted Lizzie, hoping her friend would be too hung over to notice the time the message had been sent at. She didn’t want any unnecessary questions. 

Home safe. He’s not so creepy. 

Then, she scrolled through her contacts, looking for Noel’s number. Eventually she found it, opening a new message. 

Thank you. Kindness suits you, sir. Don’t always be the absent rockstar. 

Then, she scrolled through her camera roll, looking for the old interview. It was from a few years back, a university leadership questionnaire she’d recorded. She believed she probably mentioned something embarrassing about him being her idol somewhere in it. Still, she captioned it:

You deserve an old interview to rewatch too. 

—

His reply came ten minutes later. Long enough to have watched the video, and thought a little. A voice message, not very long.

She pressed play, and for a few seconds all she could hear was him walking, crunching through leaves, the sound of cars going by. The sound of London. 

Then he sang softly:

“Let the storm rage

I’d die on the waves

But I will not rest while love lies dead in the water”. 

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

I am in loooooove with remora reader and the mersharks! What would happen if another remora tried to attach themselves to the 141? How would reader and the 141 react to that? Much love!!!! 🖤🖤🖤

not to be bisexual on main but they would groom each other and maybe hold hands and curl up together and kiss <3 <3 <3

unfortunately there would not be enough food to sustain both you and another remora long-term, and you're both too polite and submissive to take the food you need before the other eats. either Gaz works overtime to bring you both food, or one of you has to go seek out and beg scraps off of other mer. ಥ_ಥ

perhaps the other little remora [chases after/gets pilfered by] a different group of mer <3

[thir10th]

I literally love the way you write emily! could you please do something like Morgan or anyone on the team points out how clingy you are around her so you get insecure, but Emily makes it better? thank you💕

hi anon 👋 ofc i can!! i love this concept ❤️

summary: Morgan says something that upsets you, thankfully Emily knows exactly what to do (basically the ask lol) tw: smut, shower sex, oral sex, idk i'm tired i think that's all a/n: i'm trying to do your requests, like you guys already know i can't promise i will make them all, but you're still very welcome to try! Like & reblog as always <3

You had spent a whole week on LA on this last case, more than 3 women had been murdered before you caught the unsub, which means you desperately needed a long night sleep, preferably wrapped in your girlfriend's arms.

You're sitting on the window seat, keeping the one next to it free for her, she smiles when her eyes meet yours, and sits next to you, you surround her with your arm, kissing her cheek, she moves to peck your lips as well

"hey baby" you whisper, your mouth close to hers

"hey" she answers with the sweetest voice, you can sense she also wants to get home as soon as possible.

Your other hand wraps around her leg, squeezing it

"I'm gonna go for a tea, ok? you want one?" she asks getting up, wrapping herself off of you "yeah that'd be nice" you answer, the silliest smile on your face.

"ugh, you two get a room" Morgan's voice makes you lift your head, the smile instantly erased form your face.

"What do you mean?" you ask, he has never pointed you two out before, so it surprises you

"c'mon, can't you spend 2 seconds without touching her? we were just at the airport and you were all over each other, i could not handle someone being so clingy" you're too baffled to say anything. Clingy? you had never thought about it, you loved your girlfriend so much it came natural to you hugging her and touching her, the possibility that she didn't like it had never crossed your mind.

Morgan couldn't be bothered about it, he put his headphones back on as soon as he dropped the unfriendly comment.

"there you go baby" Emily said, handing you your cup, you take it, a small smile to thank her, and you lay back to the window.

As much as you're trying you can't seem to get Morgan's comment out of your head, you never wanted to suffocate Emily, you just wanted her to feel loved, maybe she was just ashamed to tell you how uncomfortable it made her.

You sip your tea, looking out the window, "hey" Emily grabs your cup when you're finished and opens her arm offering you to lay on it

"I think I'm gonna try to sleep now, ok?" you tell her, and turn around to lay your head on the window.

You can tell se knows there's something going on, she frowns, you can feel her stare, but finally let's it go, and gets back to her book.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

When you finally get back to your apartment, Emily throws her bag away, and you do the same, moving to sit on the couch to take your shoes off more comfortably.

"Well, I desperately need a shower, you coming?" she asks as she takes her shirt off

"Yeah, you go" you don't even look at her to answer, trying to focus on untying your shoes, you keep your head down.

Emily stands on the middle of the hallway, she looks at you, raising an eyebrow, now she knows there's definitely something going on.

"You're not gonna shower, love?" she asks, a concerned tone on her voice "Yeah, sure, you can go first tho"

Your girlfriend was too stunned to speak. It wasn't like you to turn down the offer of showering together, you couldn't remember a time when you had said no to a shower with Emily, specially after a case.

She would always lather your back soothingly, you didn't even always have sex (although it was quite common), sometimes you would simply enjoy the warm water stream, you would take care of each other, wrap yourselves into a warm embrace that could last minutes, and she would always lend you her clothes afterwards, there was no other feeling better than going to sleep clean and fresh into your girlfriend's clothes, wrapped around each other. What do you mean you don't want to shower with her?

"So, you will wait for me to shower, and you will go after me? first on the plane, now this? Baby, is something wrong? Did i do something to upset you?" you lift your head to look at her after getting rid of your shoes, her big brown eyes reflect the worry on her voice, she looks to you carefully to see what is going on.

"no, it's nothing, i just... i just don't want to be too clingy, you know?" you finally reveal. Her mouth tenses up, and she bites her lip. You know your girlfriend way too well to know that's one of her classic faces, it's the one that says -ok now i see-. She walks up to you, sitting right next to you on the couch, places her hand on your thigh soothingly.

"Baby, who told you that?" you don't wanna say, you don't want her to get upset too, but the way she runs her palm over your leg to soothe your worries makes you want to tell her everything she asked for.

"Well, Morgan, he suggested i could be suffocating you" when you say it aloud it sounds ridiculous, since when do you care about what Morgan says? About what any man has to say about your relationship? His words had just sunk into you way more than you could've expected.

"what did he say?" she licks her lips out of impotence "Because after a whole career on the fbi i'm considering murder just now" you laugh it off, blinking to avert the tears pickering your eyes.

"he said if i was his girlfriend, he would feel suffocated by how clingy i am, and how i can't keep my hands off of you" her eyes scan your face, runs her hand up and down your thigh "ok, i'm sure gonna kill Morgan tomorrow" you both chuckle "well he is kind of right, i mean we can barely spend an hour off of each other" you say trying to make sense out of the situation

"ok, so you are clingy, so what?" her voice raises a bit towards the end, a couple of notes higher, you can't help but to smile, you think it's too cute.

"I love touching you" the hand that was resting on your thigh now gets higher to rest on your waist, her other hands moves up to your neck, her thumb caressing your face "I love it when you touch me" her face gets closer, the tip of her nose brushing against your cheek, you close your eyes relaying on the touch

"I love feeling you close" she moves to sit closer to you on the couch (if that is even possible at this point) her hand keeps moving up and down your back, she kisses your cheek, "and i don't care about what anyone has to say about that, i don't want you to care about it ether" her words sink into you, everything is basically forgotten.

"I want you to touch me, to feel me" she moves your hand, previously resting on your side, she places it on her waist, and you take it upon yourself to grab her face with your other hand.

Closing the small space between you, your lips collapse in a deep kiss, Emily holds you. The kiss is quite sensual. Emily takes her time and eases your mouth open, slowly pushing in her skilled tongue into your mouth, but to your displeasure, the kiss breaks.

"C'mon, baby, come shower with me" she says standing up, holding your hand, you get up too, grabbing on to her for support "lead the way" you say, a grin on her face.

Emily opens the water stream, letting the warm fog fill the bathroom, you try to catch Emily's lips to kiss her again, she offers a very fast for your liking peck that you try to prolong, but she's faster to grab the neck of your shirt, unbuttoning the buttons one by one, and taking it off.

Her eyes never leaving yours, she kisses your collarbone as she unclasps your bra, you reciprocate the action, doing the same with hers, Emily sighing in relief as her own restricting bra was undone.

The soft trail of small kisses on your collarbone soon moving southern to your sternum, she reacher your left boob, her soft lips feel warm on your smooth skin, never getting exactly anywhere, she removes your pants along with your underwear, and you do the same with hers.

You just want to jump in the shower with your girlfriend as fast as possible and forget the day.

She slowly pulled you into the shower behind the hot water, instantly calming your tingling body. Emily instantly pulled you into a hug as the warm water engulfs you two, running her hands through your back.

She lets you lean on her shoulder while she takes whatever sweet scented body wash she could reach faster and scrubs your back, washing the day off of you.

You do the same, grabbing the bottle and squeezing some on your hands to lather your girlfriend's slightly muscular arms, up and dow, then you move to get her shoulder, her back, you cover her in bubbles.

"I love your hands" She says. Her words take you by surprise, too focused on your task of getting your girlfriend clean that you hadn't even realized she was following your every move, her expression full of love. You chuckle first, but she interrupts before you open your mouth "I'm serious, baby. Please, please don't stop touching me" she kisses you again, depositing all her love and care on the kiss.

When you break the kiss you keep your ministrations, this time you lower your hands, her breath hitches when you cup her breasts, the same massage you were delivering to her arms, now you give them a gentle squeeze.

"mh- please, honey, touch me" you love hearing your girlfriend beg, asking for it, it's not the most common thing for her to do, but whenever a plead falls form Emily's lips, your completely at her mercy, ready to comply anything she asks you to.

She let out a breathy gasp as you played with her breasts, giving your girlfriend's mighty breasts another hearty squeeze before ultimately releasing her boobs. She grabs your hips pulling you close to her, she then leaned in, giving you a quick kiss, as you swiped her tongue against her bottom lip, she grabs your ass ginig it a gentle squeeze.

Grabbing her by the hips, you push her body gently against the shower wall, you move the kisses to her neck, sucking and biting her sensitive spots as Emily throws her head back to give you better access. You slowly kissed down her valley, dropping to your knees and stopping at her belly button.

"I will touch you as much as you want baby, whatever you need" You say as you look up at her. Emily only moans in response to your reassuring words. The sound sending her into a frenzy as you slowly lick up Emily's pussy with your broad tongue, stoping at her clit as you slowly suck it, swirling your tongue with intent. 

"oh god- yes sweetheart just like that" you moan at the nickname, the sound sending vibrations over the swollen bud. You alternated between gentle licks and firm sucks, using your fingers to tease and explore every inch of her sensitive flesh.

Emily could already feel herself beginning to fall apart, with her knees threatening to buckle out at any moment while pressure swelled within her loins, she places a hand on the back of your head for support, slowly pushing it to encourage you to keep going, and breathed out, "y/n… More! F-fuck, this feels great baby…" said as you dive back into her pussy with your tongue.

Your own arousal surged at the taste and sound of Emily's ecstasy, with each flick of your tongue, each gentle caress of your fingers, you bring Emily closer and closer to the peak of pleasure.

Really, you could keep your head in your girlfriend's pussy all day just eating her out, especially from hearing Emily's sweet moans.

Honestly, she could have stood to keep you buried between her legs forever. It won't take too long for her to be able to keep holding out against the growing pressure between her thighs, which makes her legs feel weaker and weaker with every lap of your tongue.

"I'm so close, baby, please" she moans, you pick up the speed, flicking your tongue against her clit as you curl your fingers against her g spot over and over again. Emily screams as her orgasm takes over. Crying out your name, she allows her body to do as it pleases as she comes hard onto your face.

As she comes down from the height, Emily holds you tight as you slid back to you feet, standing up, the warm water still running, warming your muscles, as your bodies grind against each other, she holds you close in an embrace, surrounding your waist with her arms, you both stay there letting the water rinse your bodies.

Emily is the first to break the silence "you have no idea how lucky i feel when you touch me" she says, caressing your lower back in soft circular motions.

"I'm the lucky one, Em" you say looking at her, she grabs your face, all wet from the shower "but i'm starting to get cold, we should get out now" she chuckles, pressing your lips together in a much sweeter, gentler kiss.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Next day you arrive to work together, Emily has her arm fully wrapped around yours, you don't pull apart until you get to your deks.

Emily sees Morgan on the kitchen, he's making himself a coffee, excusing herself to go talk to him

"Hey Prentiss, how you doin'?" he asks, in his face the usual cocky grin, Emily doesn't even respond

"If you ever tell my girlfriend anything about the way she is with me again, you will suffer the consequences, all right?" she says, a big, ironic smile on her face, she pats him on the shoulder, warning him.

She never leaves your side for the whole day.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Ok yes this one is longer than i thought it would be, but this was such a cute concept, I love overprotective Emily (should i write something with that? idk) Also no hate to Morgan at all!!!! I love him and he was just being playful, ok? I won't tolerate any Morgan hate on this blog!!!!

Hope you enjoy!! <3

[vapekingg]

"You okay over there, Buckley?"

Robin Buckley x BiFem!Reader ModernAU TW/Tags: recreational drug use, sexual innuendos, mutual pining, BODY MENTIONS, angst, public displays of affection?, disgusting teasing?, maybe a lil cringe on the reader's part but funny to me?

Robin's mouth sits agape. She doesn't remember when she last took a breath, fearful of the sound that might escape her throat. A whispered moan, or a fucking scream because goddamn jesus christ how the fuck can someone as magnificent as you exist.

"You okay over there, Buckley?"

Eddie's words register in Robin's head, but she's barely able to respond. It doesn't help that she's stoned off of her fucking ass, as are the rest of you. Her head begins to move ever so slightly side-to-side.

"No," she whispers. "Absolutely fucking not."

It's pathetic, really. Robin's like a dog on a leash, and it's obvious to just about everyone but the wrong people, thank god.

But that doesn't exclude you. You knew exactly what you were doing when you texted Robin that Eddie had just gotten in a fresh stash and offered to smoke her out after work. You know exactly what you're doing now as you sit pretty on your knees, right there on the dull brown carpeted floor of your's and Eddie's shitty, shared apartment. Robin's own fucking t-shirt hangs off of your frame, obscured partially by a three foot bong you'd cleaned just for the occasion.

Good god she can taste the blood in her mouth from the hole she'd bitten in her tongue after the last hit.

Eddie is, of course and as always, the unfortunate third wheel. The platonic, straight(?), best friend of a closeted lesbian and a raging bisexual that won't just fucking admit they're insufferably in love with each other. Or maybe they just want to finger bang. He's refused to put much thought into it.

No. Why would you admit it?

Instead, you make it as clear as you can without spelling it out. You take one more hit and hold it deep, picking up the phone on the floor to your left and flipping through the songs playing just loud enough to not send Robin into a fucking panic attack.

You exhale in time with a familiar tune.

"Please tell me you guys fuck with Billie Eilish" You beg, and finally, Robin sucks in a deep breath while tossing her head back with... frustration.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Eddie curses, and your eyes dart up.

He's mid tossing his hand toward the nearly incapacitated Robin sitting on the sofa across the room.

"You've fucking broken her!" He yells.

And at the bridge of Lunch, you burst into a fit of California Kush induced laughter.

"Baby I think you were made for me..."

Unknown who the spacers belong to. If anyone knows, please tag them!

Also requests are open!!