#i suppose it never specified personal names

[felgueirosa]

tagged by @discworldwitches to list 10 songs w names in the title!! tysm i love to share my music!!

elle - mari boine (in particular, the most recent release w bugge wesseltoft, but also like isák's cover)

samson - regina spektor

fernando - abba

ahuvati ester - mor karbasi

laura - bat for lashes

mariana - algaire

cleo at abbey road - shygirl

alfonsina y el mar - mercedes sosa

evelina - katarina barruk

orion - anaïs mitchell

wow! this was much harder than i thought! ummm i tag @gracelandmp3 @angelofdudes @loveydoveykirk @leguindyke if yáll want to and anyone else who wants to! <3

[uluvjay]

Hi can I get (for one muse to drive and finger the other who is in the passenger seat.) with either Sebastian Vettel or Jenson button please 🙏

Dbf!Sebastian Vettel x fem! Reader ft. Jenson Button

Yk i couldn’t decide who i wanted to write this with so i chose both, i hope you don’t mind:)

Warnings?; SMUT, fingering, reader is the daughter of a retired driver! But no names are specified, age gap!(reader is in her twenties), cursing, kissing, dirty talk, teasing, kinda public? Everything happens in a car.

You weren’t expecting to see Jenson in the passenger seat of Sebastian’s two seater Ferrari when it pulled up to the curb of the restaurant.

You had been on a date gone wrong when you called your father’s best friend for a ride, none of your friends had answered and with your parents being out of town he was the last person you could think of.

“Um, seb where am I supposed to sit?” You questioned and your confusion only grew when Jenson opened the passenger door but never got out.

You were met with a smirk from the German as he kept quiet, but Jenson gave you the answer you were looking for as he patted his lap and spoke up.

“Got a perfect seat right here love” the Brit smiled at you.

Butterflies filled your stomach as you thought about it, it wouldn’t be the first time you sat on his lap however last time you were in Sebastian’s living room while the man was between your thighs and Jenson held you open for him.

“Come on honey, we haven’t got all night” Sebastian’s spoke, bringing you out of your thoughts.

You blushed as you took your spot on top of Jenson, your little dress doing nothing to put a barrier between you and his denim covered thighs.

You were tense and Jenson didn’t like it, he could feel you holding back your weight and not relaxing completely into him.

“Calm down love, it’s just us” Jenson whispered into your ear as one of his large hands began to run along your bare thigh.

A smile took over the Blondes face as he felt your body sink into his, releasing a sigh of contentment as he felt your warm body against his.

“So what happened on your date?” Sebastian questioned, one of his hands coming to rest on the thigh closest to him; Jenson’s still on the other.

“Uh, nothing he just wasn’t my type” you breathed shakily as you watched Jenson’s hand slowly move under the skirt of your dress.

“Hm, why’d you go out with him then?”

“W-what do you mean?” You stuttered as Sebastian’s hand joined his friends.

“You said he wasn’t your type, if you knew that why’d you go in the first place darling?” Jenson questioned in your ear, voice deep and accent thick.

“Bec-oh, because he was, shi-He was cute” you whined as Jenson’s hand began to rub you through the lace of your panties.

“Yeah? Why’d you end it early?” Sebastian quipped as his own hand came into contact with your folds, thanks to Jenson removing your panties.

You couldn’t reply, the feeling of his thick fingers teasing your entrance taking all of your concentration.

But Jenson wasn’t having it, “I think he asked you a question bunny” he spoke with a sharp swat to your thigh.

Swallowing thickly you did your best to reply to the Man beside you.

“H-he recognized my last n-name, ah!” you whimpered, hand gripping onto Sebastian’s wrist as two of his fingers entered your core.

“Let me guess he turned out to be an f1 fan and only asked about your dad?.” Jenson spoke.

“Mhm” you sobbed as both their fingers began to work you open, Sebastian’s scissoring inside you while Jenson shamelessly rubbed your clit.

You attempted to buck your hips but they were quickly pushed down by Jenson’s free hand, yearning him a whimper of annoyance.

“Don’t be a brat now Liebling, after all we did cut our dinner short to come and get you” Sebastian tutted, taking his eyes off the hardly filled road for a moment to look over at your breathtaking frame.

The skirt of your dress was pushed up and the panties you once wore were now resting on the floor of his overly expensive car, your pretty sounds getting louder as their fingers didn’t let up.

“Can feel her clenching my fingers so tight, our girls getting close” Sebastian spoke aloud, talking about you like you weren’t even there.

“Please, I-need it, please I’ll be good” you begged them, the pleasure from both of them so overwhelming.

“Oh you poor thing” Jenson said with a faux pout, his free hand coming up to hold you jaw, turning you head to connect your lips in a dirty kiss.

It was filthy, teeth clashing and tongues fighting against each other, and by the time you had pulled away you realized Sebastian was pulling into his private driveway.

And while you had expected them to let up they didn’t, in fact Sebastian sped up his movements as he felt you clenching hard around his fingers.

The sound of squelching from your cunt filled the small car. Sebastian’s fingers coming into contact with the sensitive spot inside you as his fingers continued to fuck you rigorously.

“Seb!-ngh, feels so good” you babbled, head thrown back against Jason’s shoulder as his fingers that had been abusing your clit applied more pressure to the small bud.

“Look so beautiful like this bunny, all spread open for us.” Sebastian cooed.

“Don’t stop please! I need it” you begged both men, your pathetic pleads going right into Jensons ear.

“Oh you need it huh? I’m not sure honey. Already had to leave our dinner because you got bored with some jerk, why should we give you anything else?” Jenson tutted behind you.

“No, no, please-Jenson please let me come, I’m sorry for interrupting your dinner” You sobbed as the heat in your lower stomach got stronger and stronger.

“Hmm, I guess we’ll accept your apology. Go on and come for us pretty girl.” Sebastian encouraged.

Their fingers worked together to get you over the edge, mouth dropping open in a silent scream as your body shook.

Your thighs quivered as you soaked Sebastian’s fingers in your release, both men’s eyes gleaming with pride as they watched you come down from your high.

Jenson had slightly repositioned you so you could now face Sebastian, just in time to watch him slip his covered fingers into his mouth; moaning at the taste of you.

A gasp came from you as Jenson ran his fingers through your folds so he could get his own taste of your release.

“Taste so good darling” he smiled down at you.

“Wanna taste?” Sebastian asked.

With a small nod you leaned forward expecting him to slip his fingers into your mouth, however one of his large hands wrapped around your throat and pulled your lips to his.

You moaned into his mouth at the taste of yourself, his tongue running along yours as your lips moved together.

“I think it’s time we take you inside and fuck you properly, what’d you think?”

-

[quin-ns]

Neighborhood Dilf (Joel Miller x Reader)

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: joel finds out he has a nickname and he asks you what it means

Tags: pre-outbreak this is a happy fic guys!! I didn’t specify a year but let’s put it at 2000 for funsies so sarah is like 11 and joel is like 30ish. also fluff, humor, flirting, age gap, goofy plot (I don’t know what this is honestly), joel being the definition of a dilf and not knowing it, crushes, overall cuteness. also suburbia

A/N: I saw a tiktok where someone said they just knew joel was the neighborhood dilf and they were so real for that I had to write it. and no I don’t care that the word was popularized online we’re using it here. I’m here to provide a cute fluffy fanfic not a historically accurate one lol. also sorry if your name is bee, I tried to come up with a name for the friend that was a nickname so if it was someone’s actual name they could just imagine their full name (I overthink)

cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • main masterlist

The loud music coming from outside woke you up from your afternoon nap. After spending a semester at college struggling to find even an hour of sleep, you were taking as many of those as possible. You were a little grouchy at first as you threw your covers off and stormed to your window, but quickly calmed down when you realized it was the annual block party your neighborhood hosted during the summer.

You’d gotten an in-person invite from Bee, another girl home from college who you’d been friends with in high school before going your separate ways. You still kept in touch since she was nice enough, which is how you found out her family was hosting this year. She’d confided in you personally that she would quote “go crazy if it was all kids and old people.”

As you looked out into their front yard, which was diagonal to yours, you saw that’s pretty much all it was. Since you were such a good friend, you decided that you’d go. 

You were getting dressed (at a leisurely pace) when your phone started to ring. You picked it up from your desk after you pulled your pink sundress on and flipped it open. The caller ID read Bee’s name and you answered, ready to tell her you were on your way.

“He’s here,” she said, sounding mistified, before you could even open your mouth. 

“Who?” you wondered, furrowing your brows a little to yourself as you went to the window.

“The neighborhood dilf,” Bee replied under her breath. 

The nickname made you laugh. It reminded you of high school. It had started as a joke, something you had started calling the new guy who’d moved into the neighborhood with his daughter a few years back. Later you found out his name was Joel Miller, but the nickname spread like wildfire to all the other girls in the neighborhood and it just stuck. 

Everyone knew about it; the girls of course, their confused parents, jealous boys who thought Joel was stealing their attention—the only person who wasn't aware of the moniker (as far as you knew) was Joel. Well, you hoped his daughter didn’t know either. Thankfully, after time, everyone forgot that you had started it. It was a bit embarrassing.

You walked away from the window to your closet and slid on your flip flops—it was summer in Texas, after all.

“You need to get over here, Y/N—what?” the last word sounded distant from the phone. “Yeah, she’s supposed to be on her way,” Bee replied, but to someone else.

“Um, hello?” you asked, waiting.

Bee was quiet for a few seconds, then whisper shouted into the phone, “you’ll never guess what just happened!”

“Let me guess, Joel just walked up and professed his love for you,” you teased, laughing at your own joke. “What, were my parents asking for me or something?” you guessed for real that time, recalling the small bit you had heard her say.

“Unfortunately no, and also no,” she sounded a little too disappointed about the first part, which made you chuckle again. “He did just ask me about you though.”

“Who?”

“The dilf.”

“Just use his name,” you told her with a roll of your eyes, heading out of your room to the stairs. “Wait.” You stopped for a second. “Joel asked about me?” 

“Yeah. I changed my mind, you’re not invited.”  If it wasn’t for her obvious sarcasm you might’ve thought she was serious. “He heard me say your name and asked if you’d be here soon. I—hey!” she yelled, causing you to pull the phone from your ear for a second. You continued your descent down the stairs as she yelled something about ‘kids’ and ‘stay out of there’. “I gotta go,” she said suddenly, then hung up.

You just shook your head with a small, amused smile and left your phone on the counter. Stupid dress and no pockets. 

You headed out the front door and walked across the street towards the party. 

It was in full swing. Music, games, food table—it looked like something out of a magazine. The Grants had a huge front yard—it was one of the nicer houses in the neighborhood—and it seemed like everyone was there. There were kids running around, adults all mingling—some sitting at the fold out tables, others walking around, others chasing their kids—there was also a group of dads surrounding the grill. You glanced that way and didn’t see Joel. You wondered where he was and if you should find him, but Bee found you first.

“The kids aren’t supposed to go inside alone and two of those little jerks went into my room,” Bee complained right away, straightening out her white blouse over her jean shorts. Her pinned back brown hair was a little messy, though. You wondered what happened, which she quickly answered. “I saw them jumping on my bed through the window.”

“Sounds like fun,” you commented sarcastically. Bee looped her arm through yours. 

“My dad set up ring toss and it’s all little kids, I don’t wanna be the only adult playing. Come on.” She dragged you along in that direction and you willingly went with.

You saw a few kids from the neighborhood playing, mostly the preteens who were too old for hopscotch but whose parents had told them they weren't old enough for the mini golf (one of the boys had overshared that little comment). 

“Y/N!” a girl's voice called. You looked that way and saw Sarah Miller walking towards you. A few days out of the week when her dad was working late, you’d go over to their house and keep an eye on her (before you left for college). It was the easiest babysitting gig you ever had; she was polite, always did her school work, and hardly caused any problems. Her dad had raised her very well. 

She looked older than you remembered her being, but you had been gone for both fall and spring semesters—well, you had been home for winter break briefly, but not enough to see anyone other than your parents.

“Sarah, hi!” you greeted, accepting the hug she offered when she got close. “How are you?”

“Good!” she said with a smile. “Are you guys gonna play with us?” she asked you and Bee. “I keep beating them and it’s not fun anymore.” 

You and Bee both laughed at that. “Sure, why not.”

“It feels weird playing with her after talking about how hot her dad is,” Bee whispered in your ear when Sarah went first. “You think he’ll come over here?”

“And what would you do if he did?” you challenged while hiding a chuckle, raising your brows at her.

“Um, probably nothing,” she admitted, cheeks a little pink. “He’s fun to look at though.” 

You hummed. “You’re not wrong.” 

The two of you played a few rounds of ring toss, although Bee got very bored quickly. “Can we go get some drinks?” she asked after not that long of playing.

“Sure,” you decided. You waved bye to Sarah and the others as the two of you walked off towards the cooler.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed some of the other girls in the neighborhood that hadn’t been in attendance before. For a couple that you knew, it didn’t seem like their scene. 

“What are they doing here?” you asked Bee.

“I may or may not have also told them the neighborhood dilf was here. They, uh, wanted to… see him,” she answered, avoiding eye contact.

You raised your brows in slight disbelief. “Are you serious?” 

“I wanted more people our age here,” Bee defended. “I wasn’t sure if you were even gonna show.”

You scoffed out a laugh. “You’re ridiculous,” you told her.

You reached the cooler and knelt down. You handed Bee a water, but she didn’t accept it. You looked up at her.

“Keep an eye out for the dilf, I haven’t seen him in a while. I’ll be right back,” Bee told you, taking off before you could say anything. You guessed the bathroom given her speed walking inside.

You laughed a little to yourself as you stood back up. You kept the water for yourself. You looked out amongst the crowd, realizing you were now on your own while everyone was in groups. You saw a couple people you were friends with and thought of maybe going up and joining them, but someone else spotted you first.

Joel Miller, the aforementioned neighborhood dilf, was walking towards you. Bee would be jealous, especially if she knew you and Joel were actually friends.

You had thought about telling Bee and some of the other girls that you were friends with Joel, given how much they just loved to gossip about him (how he was still single, how he looked really good in his pajamas getting the mail, that one time he took his shirt off while mowing the lawn—that was a big day) but then you thought better of it, not wanting to be run out of town by a jealous mob.

You were already getting glances by the time Joel stopped by your side so maybe your humbleness was pointless.

“Saw you all alone, thought I’d come keep you company,” Joel broke the ice with ease.

How long had he been watching you? The thought made your cheeks feel warm.

“Wow, what a gentleman,” you teased lightly, causing Joel to chuckle.

“I try,” he joked back, shooting you a small wink.

When you had first met Joel you were nervous around him. It was much easier to talk to him now that the two of you had become friends rather than acquaintances. He was an easy guy to get along with and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company rather than just gawking at him in his yard from your window (like you used to do in high school). Your crush hadn’t disappeared though, so you joked around with him as a way to keep things casual and avoid getting in your own head. 

“Sarah told me you were finally here, she was happy to see you,” Joel mentioned with a light smile.

That made you smile back. “She’s a sweet kid,” you told him. “I was happy to see her too.”

You fiddled with the water bottle in your hand as you spoke, trying to unscrew the cap. The stupid thing was stuck and after a few seconds you gave up.

Joel gave you an amused look, glancing between your face and hands. “You want help with that?”

“Yes, please,” you handed it to him. “There you go again, proving chivalry isn’t dead. Thank you.”

Joel unscrewed the cap with ease and handed it back. “Happy to be at your service.”

“So, you guys been here a while?” you asked, sparking up conversation.

“Not too long, only an hour or so. It’s been fun though,” Joel explained. “More for Sarah than for me,” he admitted, glancing around to find his daughter. He spotted her and she waved, then continued playing with her friends.

“Why’s that?” you wondered, looking up at him just as he looked down at you. 

“Just… I mean, everyone is nice and all,” he started. “But I just feel like I got nothin’ to talk about with them, y’know? Except you.”

“Really?” You tried to not sound too thrown off by that, but you didn’t know he felt like that. It was interesting to say the least. 

“Is that such a surprise?” he wondered, raising an eyebrow curiously.

You shrugged. “Maybe a little. I get it though, I haven’t really talked to anyone other than Bee yet.”

“I don’t know if you’re friends with them, but I saw a bunch of girls your age walking around,” Joel said as a suggestion. 

“Nah, I’d rather just talk to you,” you said casually, before you could even think about what you had said. The look on Joel’s face changed a little, like he was trying to bite back a bigger smile.

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” he said after a moment. Your eyes met his and the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. You had to look away to be able to breathe, almost certain you were reading into things. You really, really did not want to be disappointed.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Joel said, making you realize you hadn’t spoken yet.

“Sure, yeah.”

“You know… young person lingo, don't you?”

You laughed at the awkward wording. If it had been any of the other adults here using the word “lingo” you would’ve cringed, but there was something cute about the way Joel said it. You tried to snap that thought out of your head.

“Mostly, yeah,” you replied with a little chuckle paired with a curious tone. “What’s up?”

“Do you know what a dilf is?” he asked bluntly. That alone told you he had no idea. 

You were so stunned, all you could think to say was, “why?”

“Well, those girls I mentioned… I overhead some of them calling me that,” he explained, his eyebrows furrowing a little. “It’s not bad, is it?” 

Was this karma coming back to you for starting the nickname? It wouldn’t have surprised you. 

“It’s not bad, no,” you assured while also avoiding the main question.

“What is it then?” Joel’s interest was piqued now and while you couldn’t blame him, you also couldn’t think of a way to make this not weird.

“It’s an acronym,” you started. Joel watched you intently, waiting for an explanation. “It means dad I’d like to…” you trailed off, hinting at him the word to fill in the blank.

Joel just looked even more confused. “To what?”

Somehow he made cluelessness incredibly attractive.

Screw it, you thought. This was already weird. Rip the bandaid off, right? “Fuck,” you finished before you could think better of it. 

“Oh,” he stated. You knew it took a second for realization to hit. “Oh. So that means they, um,”

“It’s basically like saying you’re hot,” you explained, filling in when he couldn’t. You hoped he wouldn’t find it insulting or anything like that.

Joel looked a little bashful but found amusement in the situation nonetheless. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” you suggested, then sipped your water. You looked out at the people milling about rather than meeting his gaze.

“Do you think I’m one?”

You nearly choked on your water. “What?”

“Sorry,” Joel apologized quickly, trying to laugh it off. “I shouldn't've asked that.”

“It’s alright,” you assured him. You paused for a minute, contemplating what you might say to that. You got a rush of bravery. “If you’re asking if I think you’re attractive… the answer is yes.”

Joel couldn’t hold back his smile. He tried, but it was a failed effort. It was like he was trying to contain his anticipation. “What about if I wanted to ask you out? What would your answer be then?”

“Yes.”

Joel grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he admitted. 

“Dad!” Sarah’s voice caused the two of you to look away from one another. You saw her running up to you guys and hoped she hadn’t heard a word of your conversation. “Can you come play with me? Mr. Grant just set up a bean bag toss!” 

“Sure, kiddo,” he told her. She grabbed his hand and started to drag him away. 

You smiled a little to yourself at the interaction—he was such a good dad.

Joel slowed her down a little bit to look back at you. “I’ll call you later, okay?” 

“Sounds good,” you replied, chuckling lightly. 

The Millers disappeared into the roaming people. You tried to follow them with your gaze but your attention got torn away.

“Waiting in a line for the bathroom in my own house is messed up,” Bee said, popping out seemingly out of nowhere. “What’s got you so happy?” she wondered, eyeing the smile on your face that couldn’t be erased.

“You won’t believe what just happened,” you replied. A part of you still couldn’t believe it. “I’ve got a date with the neighborhood dilf.”

joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose @dontphunkwithmylove @cilliansangel @amethystwonders11 @frogsmuahh037 @andy-rocks @melllinaa @alitaar @melanie451 @b00kw0rmsworld @reverieisaway @avengersfan25 @aheadfullofsteverogers @strangeh0rizons @spideysimpossiblegirl @shannonmariebee

if you would like to be added to the joel taglist just send me an ask or a message! <3

[pascalssbabyy]

Missing You

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ Explicit

Word Count: 9.3k

Summary: Joel’s been taking extra late night shifts patrolling and with you working in the mornings you barely see him. Joel comes back from patrol early one night and can’t miss the opportunity to show you how much he misses you.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, no use of Y/N, back story of how reader and Joel met, Ellie and Sarah are mentioned, age gap (not specified), soft!Joel (he’s so in love 🥲), also slight dom!Joel, soft!reader, somnophilia, wet hair Joel (don’t argue that’s a warning in itself), slight pain kink? (seriously blink and you’ll miss it), dirty talk, pet names, F!masturbation, M!maturbation, Joel’s hung (obvs), F!oral receiving, P in V, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), creampie.

Hi everyone! It’s been a few weeks since I’ve posted a story on here, unfortunately work life is taking up most of my time. But here we are! I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! Lots of love 🤍🫶

The past few weeks had been beyond exhausting, returning home from a long and draining days work had quickly become the worst part of your day. Having to spend hours finishing up all of your end of day tasks at the coffee shop to then walk back to your shared home with just the sound of your inner voice echoing through the empty halls and your heavy boots treading across the old wooden floor of your front room. The space that surrounded you the moment your tired body entered the house would constantly remind you that it was going to be another wasted evening spent on your own. You hated how isolated it made you feel when it was just yourself there, the familiar furniture and décor dispersed in front of you feeling somewhat unknown to you when the silence enveloped it, making that anxious knot to tighten inside your chest and a state of loneliness to cloud it’s way into your thoughts.

This should the time where you’d get back from a long and stressful shift at work with that well known feeling of security bubbling within yourself, knowing that Joel and Ellie would be at home patiently waiting for you. They were always there, ready to listen to everything that you needed to express, filling them both in with the gossip and nonsense that happened while you were on shift. They always knew just what to say and do to bring back that spark and rinse away those anxiety-ridden emotions that scattered your mind.

But instead, you were stuck in your own line of thoughts once again, neither of them to be seen as your gaze wonders over the structure of your front room, the silence that surrounds you becoming almost too much to bare, the space abruptly putting your life on a complete standstill.

Your home wasn’t much, but with all the effort you and Joel had put into it was all so worth it, you adored the way it had turned out; Ellie’s paintings that filled up the emptiness on the walls and Joel’s guitar sitting in the corner, you could still hear the sound of strumming as it lingered in the air, the vibrations being felt on your skin, causing your chest to tighten.

This repetitive routine had been the bane of your life for the past month; getting home from work feeling completely and utterly worn out and it getting even worse when you’d forget that you’d be on your own once you got there. You’d start doing a few chores around the house to make up time, again, still on your own, have a shower that you’d hope would wash away the constant stress off your skin, and ending the day by getting into bed, which was supposed to be shared with one other but at the moment, he was never there.

Ellie would show up from time to time, always coming by for a quick catch up to see how you and Joel were getting on. Ever since she’d met Dina you’d see less of her around the house. She was finally becoming more like her true herself again which was so incredible to see, adoring the way she had settled in. But that didn’t stop you from missing her dearly, her personality filling up so much of the space in the house.

You glance at the clock on your bedside table, sighing to yourself as you notice it’s just hit midnight, the days going by in the blink of an eye. You’d just had your shower, wrapping a soft towel around your chest, your bare calves hit the back of the wooden frame as you sit on the edge of the bed, finishing off with lightly moisturising your freshly cleaned skin.

You’d usually be asleep by now but you wanted to stay up in hopes of hearing those familiar footsteps walking up the stairs and into your bedroom, desperately needing to see that face that would instantly take that heavy weight off your shoulders. Hoping to see that particular smile that would always make you weak at the knees and that southern, deep drawl filling your ears. But right now, the sound of your never ending doubts were still lingering on but somehow even louder this time, awakening the memory that you were in fact, still alone.

Ever since Joel had made his way into your small world it had become the best thing that could’ve happened to you. This house may give you security and a roof over your head but it was Joel and Ellie who made it a home, them being apart of your life was completely unexpected but the greatest circumstance you’d ever come across. You were so grateful that Jackson had brought you together. Being the one on shift that day when Joel walked into the coffee shop for the first time was a blessing in disguise. The memory bringing a smile to your face.

3 months ago 🍃🍃🍃

When you arrived in Jackson you never expected it to be so hard for you to adjust to. Being there for almost a year and you’d still struggle to be around people, your anxiety always getting the best of you. You didn’t have many people in the town that you’d consider close friends and you knew that was your fault, knowing that you should be put yourself out there but still hadn’t developed the courage to. The memories of your life before Jackson was hard to go back too, the harsh thoughts of how you’d survived the outside world continuously haunting you, but yet you’d still battle with getting used to being around a community that supported one another as much as the people of Jackson did. The job at the coffee shop definitely gave you that extra boost of confidence that you needed, meeting so many new faces that walked through the doors and being able to talk and create friendships with all different types of people that you’d serve throughout the day. You started to feel like you were finally getting somewhere with life in Jackson, that heavy weight gradually lifting off your shoulders.

The moment Joel walked through the doors you’d never felt more sure of anything.

The sound of the entrance door opening turned your attention away from the task you were currently occupied with, ready to prepare yourself for your very first customer of the day. At first glance you couldn’t help the tightness coursing it’s way through your chest, your breath hitching in your throat from just his sheer presence in the room, his demeanour instantly making you flustered.

The initial thought that came to your mind was that you hadn’t seen him around before, at this point you knew almost everyone in Jackson so he could’ve possibly been a newcomer. You could tell by his stance that he felt uncomfortable in this sort of environment; his hands were shoved down his two front pockets and his attention was held on the ground below him, his hefty boots creaking across the floor. Your glance made its way to his frame first; he was extremely broad, his shoulders were wide and were enveloped in a thick brown coat, the attire definitely looked too tight for his vast frame. From what you could see his upper arms looked thick and muscular and he wore distressed blue jeans that hugged his thighs so deliciously. You couldn’t stop your eyes from wondering up his body and as the second you took in his facial features you couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped your lips.

He was attractive, probably the most attractive man you’d ever seen; he had a strong facial structure, his nose shaping the rest of his face so perfectly. His stubble and thick curly hair both held soft streaks of grey, showing you that he was definitely much older than yourself and someone you definitely shouldn’t be looking at in the way that you were. His features held a ruggedness to it, revealing that he’d unquestionably been through a rough life, dealing with the pain of the world he’d now been living in for the past few decades. He looked intimidating; his facial expressions showing nothing but disapproval, but yet he had the softest brown eyes, the contrast between the two was so striking to you. The moment his stare locked onto yours you couldn’t help but feel weak, him bringing an unknown feeling out of you. The reaction should make you nervous but instead it excited you massively.

“Mornin’, uh— just a black americano, no sugar please.”

He looked like a pure black americano type of guy, no milk added to it and no sugar to sweeten it, his order matching his look perfectly. You wished he ordered something more adventurous so you could see him for longer, stare at him for as long as he’d let you, with his broad frame and well structured face. He was captivating.

If it was just an americano he wanted, then you were going to make it the best fucking americano he’d ever have.

Even with his lack of vocabulary, the second his voice left his lips you were a goner, sounding so deep and husky with a slight southern twist to it. You tried to hide your disappointed when he didn’t share another word as he waited there awkwardly for you to make his coffee. His uneasy stance made you softly smirk, yeah you thought— he definitely wasn’t used be being around people. Your breath would get stuck in your throat when his touch would subtly graze yours, his warmth radiating back onto you as he retrieved the hot cup of coffee from your hands. You noticed his hands were much bigger than yours, with scars scattering the ridges of his knuckle, making the cup look so small and delicate in his grasp, causing your body to shiver. The anticipation of possibly seeing this mystery man walking into your work again was becoming the best part of you shift. Even if the interaction wasn’t long, you couldn’t help the butterflies to flutter deep down inside your stomach, his absence still lingering in the air.

You saw him everyday after that, victory coursing through your veins knowing that he liked your coffee that much that he needed it every morning from the second he took that very first sip. He’d waltz in at the same time each day, he’d order the same coffee and nothing more. But as each day went on you’d notice his shoulders weren’t as tight as they were the first time he walked in, that short vocabulary of his had now expanded and he’d now sit on one of the tables in the far corner instead of leaving straight away with his coffee in his hands. Seeing him sit there in his own little world and watching his face relax with each sip of his drink made pride fill your chest. Possibly knowing that you’d given him that little taste of a life full of content, a world where there wasn’t an apocalypse, no worries to cage his thoughts.

You were surprised that after a few weeks of serving him he finally found the confidence to tell you his name. “My names Joel, Joel Miller.” Fuck the name matched him so perfectly. It sounded strong when it flowed seamlessly off his lips, suiting his persona to a tee.

You imagined what he was like when he’d open himself up to the people he held closest to him, maybe under that harsh exterior held a man who deeply cared about the friends and family members in his life. What would he be like with you if he got to know you more? Would he let himself be vulnerable with you? Would he maybe be open in having some sort of relationship with someone in his new life? Was he even that type of guy?

Everyday you wished that he thought about you the way you constantly thought about him.

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

“Just go there brother. She makes a great cup of coffee, the best in town I put my hand on my heart.” Tommy’s sat opposite Joel in the cafeteria, the both of them delving into their breakfast. “Come on, when was the last time y’had a decent cup of coffee?”

Joel groans at his younger brother. He hated to admit it but he fucking missed drinking a decent cup of coffee. Before the outbreak he’d never miss having one in the morning with his breakfast, the sharp taste instantly calming his grubby mood. Joel hated mornings, and even 20 years later it hadn’t changed, it always being the worst part of his day. Tommy knew deep down that Joel’s issue wasn’t giving the coffee a try but the fact that he’d have to interact with people other than Tommy and Ellie.

Joel definitely wasn’t a people person.

“Go there tomorrow morning, she’s usually quiet on wednesdays so you don’t have to worry about seein’ anyone. Need to get y’self out there Joel. She ain’t gonna bite y’head off.”

Tommy knew how to persuade his brother with almost anything. Joel was a stubborn guy, and was exactly the same when he was younger. Some things just simply never change. All he needed to do was pester him every second of the day until he couldn’t take it anymore, it pissed Joel off massively but knew it always worked.

Joel simply huffs, “fuck sake Tommy fine. I’ll go tomorrow but that’s it! One time only, probably ain’t as nice as y’say.”

Tommy smirks, “mmm we’ll see brother, we’ll see.”

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

Of course Tommy was right, he was always fucking right. The second the coffee hit his tastebuds he knew he’d never go another day without it. The flavour was strong, sweet but had that earthy bitterness to it. Fuck it tasted so good, reminded him of being back home in Texas, waking up in the morning with Sarah sat by his side as she ate her pancakes. The memory should hurt but yet gave him a sense of warmth inside, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. But what Joel never expected was that the moment he walked into the coffee shop that morning is when he’d first get acquainted with you.

He couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were; your skin looked so soft and radiant as the sun coming in from the windows rested on top of it. Your hair was tied up in a bun that framed your face to perfection. You had the most welcoming smile and you were so polite, even at the very beginning when he knew he could’ve been more kinder himself. Joel started to become nervous around you and at some points you even made him flustered, your overall attitude bringing something new out of him.

You were both complete opposites, initially that’s what Joel liked about it. Joel fed off your radiance, reminding him that this fucked up world was only fucked up if only he wanted it to be, maybe Jackson wasn’t as bad as he thought it was.

The more Joel stopped by at the coffee shop he soon realised that the coffee wasn’t the main reason he went, but in fact he wanted to see you.

He needed to see you.

Joel had to be blind to not notice the way you looked at him, the way your eyes would linger longer than they should and cringe when you’d get caught by his stare, your reaction making him smirk softly to himself. Joel had his fair share of women coming up to him every once in a while and heard all the comments about him; ‘Have ya seen Tommy’s brother? Shit he’s good looking,’ or ‘wouldn’t mind if he took me home.’ Don’t get him wrong he secretly didn’t mind the attention but Joel simply never had the time or in fact had any sort of interest for it, kindly rejecting there offers. It wasn’t until you came into his life that Joel started to question himself and his own beliefs. He knew his feelings were reciprocated but just didn’t think he was brave enough to do something about it.

A couple weeks later Joel eventually made a final decision and thought, fuck it.

Finally getting the balls to ask you out and doing it in Joel’s complete out of practice way, he’d offer you to do something outside of work, with him. It had been too long since Joel had ever been put in this type of situation, knowing he was a little rusty in the dating department. Your reaction to his words may have been a look of surprise but he knew deep down that you’ve wanted him to say that for a while. A few outings with each other would then turn into daily meets up, trying to accompany each others time tables so you could spend as much time as you could together without work getting in the way.

Joel had thought he’d lost that romantic side of himself decades ago, believing an apocalypse wasn’t really the place to find or do something like that, his only goal being survival and simply not getting killed. But somehow knowing that you’d felt that way about him sparked that unknown desire back into him, needing you in a way he never needed anyone before.

Present Day 🍃🍃🍃

The memories of the past few months with Joel should bring content and happiness to you, but right now the thoughts are only making it harder to swallow the feeling of lose from your throat. The coldness from the night air silently flows through the gap of your opened window, the coolness bringing you back to reality, goosebumps rising on the skin of your arms that are holding the towel up close to your chest.

You know Joel couldn’t help it and you’d never place any blame of him. There had been some suspicious tracks leading to Jackson, so Tommy needed a few extra people to assist with patrol duty but didn’t have the amount of hands or participants to cope, leaving Joel to take up more shifts and even longer days than he’d usually do. You and Joel both knew he needed to calm down, knowing he wasn’t the young man he once was but you knew he felt a need to prove to Tommy that he was still capable, wanting to help out the people of the community as much as he could.

To keep you and Ellie safe.

The routine wasn’t going to be going on for much longer, just until the tension outside Jackson had calmed down and that they knew that it was safe to go back to normal. Then Joel could go back to his normal schedule, a schedule where he was spending every evening and night with you, it being his favourite way to end his long days and you being the last thing he sees before sleep takes over his limp body.

This thought is what makes you go on. Knowing that you’d soon get him back all to yourself. Once you’ve finished moisturising you grab some fresh pants from the top drawer of your bedside table and pick out one of Joel’s flannels to wear from the wardrobe. No matter how many times you’d wash it you could still smell his musky scent on the material, bringing the collar up to your nose and inhaling deeply as the smell of Joel envelopes your nostrils. You lie on top of the covers and close your eyes, picturing Joel’s body lying next to yours whilst he cages you in his big arms, his stubble scratching the side of your jaw. The image of him behind your eyelids and his scent surrounds your body completely, feeling the sudden wetness pool in between your legs, aching for his touch.

You miss him so much it hurts. It had been been a while since you’d both been intimate with one another and as each day goes by the feeling deep in your core intensifies, yearning for release.

Your one hand travels down your stomach and dips under your panties which have quickly become soaked with your arousal. You start gliding two of your digits through your soaked folds, covering them in your sweet release. Your breath hitches in your throat as your fingers gently travel up and swirl around your sensitive bundle of nerves, lightly moving them in small figure eights. You picture Joel above you, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly as you imagine it’s his calloused fingers instead of yours. His digits were much thicker and longer, reaching up inside you like no other and pulling orgasm upon orgasm from your aching cunt. You imagine the words he’d whisper to you; his warm mouth against your ear as he tells you how good you are for him and how well you’re taking what he gives you. The moment you slip two of your fingers in your dripping heat you know you’ll be close to coming, already feeling that tight knot in your lower stomach. Your mouths agape as small, breathless whimpers escape your lips, the tip of your fingers hitting your g-spot. As your one hand fucks your deprived cunt your other moves under yours— Joel’s flannel to caress your breasts, your skin feeling hot from the touch of your fingers travelling up your body. Your palms and fingers start massaging the skin of my breast, tweaking your nipples to add to the intense pleasure you’re giving yourself. Joel loved your breasts, you’d imagine him giving them as much attention as he could, swirling his tongue around each nipple, sucking on the skin and making sure he leaves marks on each part his lips touch.

He knew the small purple blemishes across your skin showed you who you really belonged to, and he knew you secretly loved it, being claimed by him.

Your breathing becomes frantic, “yes Joel right there—,” the image of Joel behind your eyelids and your hand in between your legs is so intensifying and without any warning you’re coming all over your fingers, feeling the inside of your walls pulsing around the soaked digits. Joel’s name leaves your lips as a state of euphoria completely takes over your body, your legs twitching from the immense pleasure. You continue to fuck yourself through your high, needing to feel as much pleasure as you can. You can hear Joel’s praises ringing in your ear like he’s there with you in the room.

You’re such a good girl f’me aren’t you.

Fuck I feel your pussy clenching my fingers baby.

She’s so desperate f’me isn’t she.

Can’t wait to feel you come around my cock.

Even though your fingers would slowly fade that aching between your legs you knew it wouldn’t take long for it to creep it’s way back into your core, Joel being the only one to satisfy the craving completely.

Once you’ve come down from your high the quiet and darkness surrounds you once again. You wanted to wait up for Joel but you can’t stop the silence making it’s way back into your thoughts, needing the sleep to course your mind in hopes of getting a few hours peace from the weeks of stress you’ve unintentionally given yourself.

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

Joel should have been back home from patrol duty hours ago. For the past month, patrolling had been tough for everyone involved, and it had quickly become much more strict in its rules, making people more aware of the threats surrounding Jackson and the area outside the town. With the danger being so high risk, Joel knew what he had to do and what he needed to do to support the team. Jackson welcomed him and Ellie with open arms, so he knew he had to do as much as possible to give back to the community.

However, this came with its disadvantages; it felt like it had been forever and a day since he had been with you and spent a day with you. He knew this routine was excessive and too much to handle for a man his age, but his pride was too high, and Joel was a man who could never accept defeat. Being unable to be with you, let alone even see you, made his chest feel tight, restricting as the sensation would knock the air out of his lungs. He knew that being so distant from each other was breaking you even more than it was himself.

Joel quietly dropped his dirty boots at the entrance door of his and yours shared home, sighing in relief as he took in the familiarity of the four walls that have brought him so many fond memories over the past few months—all memories of you.

Slowly he tip toes his way through the front room and then up the stairs, the groans of the ancient wood under his feet echoing through the house with each step he took. It wasn’t hard for Joel to be noisy, his broad frame making it difficult to walk in the house when you lay sleeping upstairs, the sound of a pin drop ringing through the thin walls would easily be picked up let alone his large steps.

Before entering the bedroom Joel makes his way into the bathroom, his body caked in mud head to toe, suddenly craving the feel of hot water over his shoulders, untying those stiff knots in his muscles from the long day he’s endured. Knowing the heat from the water would instantly bring him relief and satisfaction.

Joel wants nothing more than to get into bed with you and wrap his arms around your small form as he falls into a deep slumber, feeling the dainty movements of your chest rising and falling against him, hearing you let out soft, content sighs while you lay sleeping.

But at the same time he wanted to be selfish, he wanted to wake you up, missing the sound of your voice, missing the way you’d look up at him with such love and affection whilst you’d caress his rough skin with the softness of your fingertips.

It had been too fucking long since he’d felt the warmth or your cunt perfectly wrapped around his cock, he missed the way you’d fall and crumble underneath his frame, the desperate pleads leaving your plump lips, begging him to make you come.

And by the way his cock instantly touches the middle of his abdomen with just the sheer thought of you imprinted on his mind, he knows exactly what he needs to do.

Joel’s woken up too many times with the other half of the bed completely empty, the dip in the mattress still visible from where your body rested just hours before. He’d immediately move his body over to your side, inhaling in your pillow as the smell of your shampoo would fill his senses, causing his cock to strain against the band of his tight boxers, his pre-come painting the material.

Joel never expected that you’d bring out that side of him that he believed was long gone, never requiring the release of another women’s touch to help his urges, his hand doing just what he needed for that ache in his cock to go away. However the more he saw of you and started spending most of his time with you he couldn’t help the attraction he felt for you, imagining your body underneath him as he filled you completely. He’d picture your pussy fluttering around his cock as you’d come around him, the desperate whimpers leaving your lips as he’d continue to thrust his hips into you, chasing his own release.

Soon Joel’s hand wasn’t enough, his own fist not itching that certain ache inside him that would once do the trick. He wanted more and simply couldn’t get you out of his mind, needing you to help take away that burning desire that he kept hidden from you.

Once Joel had his shower he’d finish freshening himself up; brushing his teeth, running his fingers through his wet hair, sleeking it back and putting on clean boxers, which have abruptly become tighter than usual from his erection that’s still very prominent. After that he’d make his way into your shared bedroom, gently pushing the door open and popping his head through. Your frame resting on the top of the sheets finally coming into his view, lying on the bed alone, the image making his chest ache.

He lightly moves his frame to his side of the bed and lies his body down beside you, the weight that’s suddenly been taken off his feet makes him sigh in content, the hours of standing in the same designated spot started to build up tension, the stinging in the bottom of his shins finally starting to ease away.

Joel looks over at your sleeping form, his sight adjusting to the darkness of the room as the light from outside creeps in through the gap of the curtains, a soft smile shaping across his features just from the look of you.

You were facing away from him; your top half covered in one of his flannels that just hanged above the very tops of you thighs, the smooth skin of your legs being on show making Joel’s cock harden even more under his boxers, his palm pushing down on his erection causing him to groan from the friction.

He tries his hardest not to wake you, bringing his fingers up to the ends of the flannel to gently move the material up so it lands in the middle of you spine, giving Joel a view of your back, your ass covered in the daintiest underwear.

Joel shifts his body so it rests above you, every move he takes becoming so delicate, hoping not to stir you as you still sleep underneath him, showing him no signs of being disrupted by his actions. Both of his hands dig into the mattress, caging your body so it’s in between him. He watches your expression intently, your features still holding that peaceful expression. Your breathing is still soft and in rhythm, giving Joel the heads up to carry on.

Joel’s eyes glance their way down to the middle of your back, ever so lightly brushing the back of his knuckles against the smooth skin, tracing over the dent of your spine and over the sides of your rib cage. His touch descends further down until his calloused fingers touch the top of your underwear, fiddling with the fabric as it sticks tightly to your skin.

This wasn’t going to be enough. If it was his decision Joel would’ve ripped the material off of you completely and stuffed you full of himself in the matter of seconds, his cock being too deprived of your touch for far too long. But somehow seeing you still deep in sleep, being completely oblivious to his actions made him want to take his time, knowing that any moment you were going to wake up to the surprise of him over you. He wanted you to see how much he deeply missed you, show you how much he cared.

Joel’s too far gone and know he can’t control his urges, softly gliding two of his digits across the curves of you cheeks until they meet there designated target. The material of your underwear is already damp against his fingers as he rubs the outside of you pussy, teasing your clit with the roughness of his fingertips.

He can’t help but softy express his inner thoughts to himself, “fuck y’so wet baby.” His one hand gently moves to your right leg, caressing the exposed skin and bending it up slightly so his eyes can see more of you, slowly moving his body down, peering his eyes at the place where he knows your body craves him the most.

The centre of your underwear is ruined, your arousal seeping through the thin material, turning them a much deeper colour. Joel holds in a deep breath from the sight, bringing his one hand down to the waistband of his boxers, freeing his now red, glistening head from its confines, the night air hitting his tip making him hiss from the sensitivity.

Before he carries on, Joel’s leaning his body over and turning on the beside lamp, the sudden light surrounding the room, showing more of you to him. He moves his face down towards you so his back is curved as he starts peppering your back with light kisses, bringing his lips across to every inch of you he can see, the softness of your skin against his stubble causes you to stir in your sleep, a silent moan leaving your throat as Joel continues to assault your back with his mouth.

Joel doesn’t give a shit that his touch has abruptly woken you up, his lips causing your body to jump from the intrusion. “J-Joel? S’that you? What are y’doing?”

Fuck he’s missed your voice, the faint sound just slightly above a whisper filling his ears as you try to adjust to what’s going on around you, Joel’s moans vibrate against your back from the words that have just glided off your tongue.

“Shh it’s just me baby, just lie real still- fuck I’ve missed you so much.”

Joel picks at more of his flannel so more of your skin is exposed to him. You lift up your chest to help him ease it off you so it rests just over your shoulder blades, already feeling that desire you felt just hours before rise back up within yourself, and knowing it’s Joel who’s going to ease it away causes more wetness to pool in your underwear.

His lips feel soft and warm on your back, gliding across your skin sure to leave marks wherever they touch as small but sharp gasps start leaving your mouth from the feel. Unintentionally you start bucking your hips up towards him, hoping to give him the heads up that even though you’ve just woken up, you already are so desperate to have any part of him inside you.

Even if the movements barely there, Joel never misses anything.

“She wants me to bad doesn’t she. Don’t worry baby I’ll give y’what y’need.”

He knows exactly what to say to have you withering under him, his husky southern drawl always bringing that immense pleasure out of you with just the simplest of words or touches, and right now he had you right where he wanted you.

“P-please Joel, missed you— need you.”

His lips curve up against your arched back, quivering as a deep chuckle rolls off his tongue. “I know darlin’ it’s been so long, wanna take my time with ya so be patient. Can y’do that? Be a good girl f’me.”

Even though you’re aching for his touch, you know you both want this to last as long as it can, wanting to show Joel how well behaved you’ll be for him and knowing that he loves this submissive side of you. He’ll never be able to process how easy it is for you to become a melting mess underneath him, boosting his confidence.

You slowly nod your head, “yes Joel I’ll be good f’you.”

He hums softly at your words, “I know y’will baby, always being so good f’me aren’t you.” Joel continues with his actions as he watches the side of your face that’s plushed against the soft material of your pillow. You look down at him with the upmost admiration, mouth agape while his name leaves your lips.

“Fuck Joel please— I.” The way he looks right now is a sight that you’ll never forget, it’s been so long since you’ve actually been able to take your time and admire him for all he’s worth; his wide shoulders hold a slight sheen to them, tanned and covered is small dispersed freckles, his hairs still wet from the shower which has been slicked back with his fingers giving you a full view of his strong facial features. His looks alone is enough to have you putting in his hands, needing to feel him on your skin, “please touch me.”

Joel was so fucking beautiful and he didn’t even have to do anything.

“I am touchin’ you baby, jus’ relax— lemme take my time, wanna look after you.” Slowly lifting up so he’s back on his knees Joel’s grabs the band of your underwear and pulls them down your legs, the material leaving goosebumps across you skin, the temptation of his touch quickly building up inside your core.

Once Joel removes your underwear off of you completely he wastes no time in touching your cunt finally without anything in the way, a deep guttural moan flying from his throat, “shit darlin’ fuckk— missed your pussy so much.” He’s panting above you, relishing in the warmth your skin gives off, the heat travelling all the way down to his cock as it pulses against his stomach. “Such a pretty pussy.”

Joel lightly moves his thick fingers across your lips and up to your clit, covering his digits with your release, preparing you, getting you ready for him.

Joel can feel himself crumbling, his body reacting so strongly to you, “fuck darlin” you’re so wet, I need a taste it’s been s’long.”

Joel doesn’t give you enough time to answer as he’s flipping you onto your side, one leg placed straight on the bed and the other he’s pushing up towards your chest, keeping it locked in place and manoeuvring his own body so he’s leaning on his shoulder while his heads placed straight under your pulsing core. His gaze is on your wet cunt, so close to his face as he looks at it with hunger in his eyes, ready to eat it up like it’s his last meal.

The moment his tongue flicks over your clit your whole body jerks up towards his mouth, your one hand reaching into his wet hair, pulling at the strands while he pleasures you with his mouth. He winces at the tight pull, his lips quivering against you which only spurs on the intensity of your upcoming orgasm.

“Shit baby—missed how fucking sweet you taste.”

Joel can feel his tip that’s still popping out of the material of his boxers leaking on the skin just under his belly button. Usually Joel is capable of holding his urges in while he gives you what you desperately need, pulling orgasms effortlessly from you with just his mouth and fingers and always being able to leave his throbbing cock alone as it aches for some sort of touch, easily suppressing the pain until he’s gifted with the wet feeling of your walls soaking him to the brim.

But it’s been too damn long, too long since he’s had you in his arms in such a close and intimate way, your sweetened release coating his tongue as he fucks you with the muscle. His other hand reaches down to pull his cock fully out of his boxers, wrapping his hand around his girth while he fucks his fist, his fingers wet from touching your greedy cunt just moments ago. He has to pause for a moment as he moves his mouth off of you, the touch of his hand stopping his rhythm for just a second, but quickly returning his attention straight back to you.

“Yes Joel fuck—right t-there don’t stop please don’t stop.” Your whimpers were like a harmony to Joel’s ears, high in pitch and so soft as you open yourself up completely to him. Joel’s groans and the wet sounds of yours and his arousal echos around the bedroom walls, beckoning him towards his own release, needing you to come all over his mouth first.

And you are going to— it’s right there, your orgasms right on the edge ready to consume you, you just need that feeling of fullness to fill your neglected walls. “Mmm fuck J-Joel, need your fingers please- need them so bad.”

Who would Joel be if he denied you of the action when you asked him so politely. He’d give you anything you wanted from him if he’d hear those perfect words asking him so nicely for permission.

“Always so polite f’me darlin.” His hand instantly pulls off his cock, abandoning his own pleasure and moving them up to your pulsating heat, filling you with two thick fingers so his knuckles touch the outside of your entrance, curling them inside you, hitting that spot that he knows will have you seeing euphoric stars in a matter of seconds.

Fuck you were so beautiful. Back arched and head thrown backwards as your hips continue to rub against Joel’s mouth, using him to chase that release that’s right there on the edge, his nose catching perfectly on your clit sending shockwaves all the way down towards your toes. His eyes gaze at every inch of skin that’s visible to him; your face, your waist and the way your chest rises and falls in quick pants, locking the image permanently into his memory.

While still using his fingers, Joel’s quickly takes his lips off of you, yourself whining from the loss of his tongue. “Take the flannel off baby, let me see those perfect tits n’ I’ll make you come.”

His mouths back on yours in an instant, watching you with sinful eyes as both of your shaky hands start to unbutton his flannel and begin rolling it off one shoulder, revealing the curve of your breasts to him and to the thick air, your nipples hardening from the cool temperature in the room.

Joel’s hand that holds a tight grasp on your bent leg moves to your chest, kneading your breast and pinching your nipples in between his fingers, feeling your walls clench around his hand from his touch. He knows if he carries on he’ll have you coming in no time.

He switches from licking up your juices to sucking forcefully on your swollen bundle of nerves, flicking the tip of his tongue over the hood as your thighs start to twitch uncontrollably, knowing exactly what motions he needs to do to have you coming all over his mouth.

You look down at him, droplets of sweat forming between the creases of your brow, “fuck Joel r-right there I’m gonna come, please-e.”

His eyes are glued on your face, “g’on baby that’s it you can come, come all over my fingers— lemme taste you.”

The orgasm that crashes over you has the air knocking out of your lungs, you whole body shaking vigorously as Joel’s holds you down into the mattress, relishing in the tightness of your cunt gushing more release onto his hand and catching as much of the honey nectar into his mouth, never missing a drop of it as he savours the taste that he’s been deprived of for too long.

Your legs squeeze around Joel’s head, caging him in, no where for him to escape as you use his mouth and fingers to prolong the pure ecstasy riding through your veins, your skin becoming hot to the touch. Your walls contract against his rough digits, Joel’s muffled moans being silenced by your thighs, looking up towards you as pleasure washes over your face.

“That’s it baby use my mouth, wanna taste all of it.” You can feel him everywhere; his stubble scratching the inside of your trembling thighs while he continues to lap and lick and slurp through your folds for as long as you’ll let him, until your prying him away from the sensitivity.

Joel’s rolls your limp frame so you’re back to lying on your stomach once again, bringing his body that was once under you back above you, quickly removing last remaining material off his legs leaving him completely naked, his cock hanging down so he’s touching the curve of your cheeks.

He gives his cock a few pumps with his first, his wetness covering him entirely. His heads quick to respond to his touch, droplets of come trickling down until it makes contact with the skin of you ass, the liquid reflecting in the light from the beside lamp. Joel moves his body so his chest makes contact with the curve of your back, his face so deep in your hair and his lips ghosting over your ear.

“God I’ve missed how you’ve tasted baby, been too damn long since I’ve had you. Y’gonna let me fuck you now? Fuck— I need to feel your pussy wrapped round me.”

You buck up your hips into him, Joel’s breathless moans singing in your ear, your action giving him the go ahead, wanting, needing to be filled by him, missing the way his thick cock would pulse inside you.

“Yes please Joel, w-want it so bad.”

Joel kisses your sweet spot, “want it so bad huh, been s’long since you’ve been stuffed full of my cock hasn’t it?” Joel’s weight is held up by his one arm, his palm digging into the mattress below whilst he rubs the head of his cock through your soaked folds and nudging the tip of your clit, the rubbing of his thickness resulting in breathless gasps to leave both of your lips. “Relax f’me baby, I’ll give it to ya.”

He loves to tease you. Knowing very well that you secretly love it too; the anticipation, the excitement, the unknown of what his next steps will be. Teasing meant he could take his sweet time with you, he could savour every part of you that he could get his hands on, your taste and touch lingering on his skin for days after.

He nudges his cock at your entrance ever so carefully. Just enjoying the feel of the outer part of your pussy while it soaks him everywhere, his thickness gilding so easily through your glistening folds.

“Can feel your pussy tryin’ to suck me in baby, wanna—fuck—need to take my time with ya’ sweetheart.”

He thrusts his hips forward so his groin comes into contact with the soft skin of your cheeks, continuing to stroke his cock in between your legs and tease your entrance, your thighs that are pushed so close together squeezing his cock even more.

The anticipation roaring through your whole body is too much to handle, longing to feel what you’ve been wanting the most from these agonising few weeks you’ve endured.

Lifting your hips at the perfect time with the pace that Joel has set with his teasing causes his entire cock to fill you to the hilt, surprised gasps leaving both of your mouths as you finally feel him deep inside you, your pussy trying to adjust to his length.

“F-fuck Joel—“ The amount of wetness between your legs makes it so easy for him to glide smoothly inside you, also helping with your walls that are trying to accompany his huge size.

Joel could’ve come right there in that moment from the sudden feeling of your walls tightly wrapped around him. “Oh my g— oh fuck baby. Christ you’re so tight, always so fuckin’ tight.”

Joel knew he was a lot bigger than the average man, and with you being much smaller than him he knew it would be difficult for you to adjust to his size. The moment his thick head would prod at your entrance he’d immediately crave the glimpse of slight discomfort in your appearance, mouth agape and your pussy struggling to take him all in, his cock stretching you out, he could come just from the look on your face.

He doesn’t move once he’s inside you, waiting a few moments to help you get used to him. His one hand moves to your side, caressing the skin on your arm, “no matter how many times I fuck this pretty pussy she always struggles to take me doesn’t she. Shit darlin’ you’re so perfect.”

He’s so deep inside you, the weight of him pushing you down into the bed as tears start to well in your eyes as he begins to set a slow but hard pace, your teeth biting down on the pillow to muffle your moans.

He moves the strands of hair that have obstructed his view of the emotions that scatter your face, needing to see ever look of pleasure that roles across your features while his thrusts pick up behind you.

“Don’t y’dare hide from me, wanna hear ya baby— tell me how good my cocks makin’ you feel.”

He grunts into your hair, inhaling in the scent of your skin, your fresh shampoo filling his senses while he sets a blistering pace behind you, his chest flushed again your back, fitting perfectly together as you spine curves into shape with his soft stomach.

“F-feels s’good Joel—fuck I’ve missed you inside me oh my god— you’re so big.”

A devilish chuckle escapes his lips, “I know baby but you can take it can’t ya, this pussy was fuckin’ made f’me.”

“Joel please—“ he feels fucking everywhere; his whole being filling all your senses, giving you everything as his tip continues to hit that spot deep inside you that only he knows how to reach, his thickness never failing to miss that point that has you gasping for air and your whole body curling from the depths of his thrust, he never misses:

Every. Single. Time.

“C’here baby.” Joel’s lifting himself onto his knees in an instant, bringing your flushed body with it, his cock never leaving your cunt as he maintains that secure motion. The ridges of your walls hug him so tightly as he brings you closer to your orgasm.

You arms fly into his hair as his wide arms cage you in, wrapping them around your upper body whilst he holds you up so closely to him, feeling the hot air leave his nostrils whilst he switches between sucking and kissing the crease of your neck, exposing more skin for him to continue his marking.

Once Joel’s finishes his assault on your neck he brings his lips up to yours, finally feeling the plumpness of your own against his, instantaneously moulding your tongues together. You can still taste yourself on his lips while he moans into your mouth, the act releasing more of your arousal around Joel’s cock. It’s messy and desperate, the both of you making up for lost time.

Your whole body is putty in his grasp, turning into jello as he holds you up against him, well aware that you’d fall face down if Joel didn’t hold you up like he is. The sound of skin slapping on skin consumes the thick air around your sweltering bodies, the heat leaving thick sheens of sweat against your skin, sticking your bodies together like glue.

“Go on darlin, need to feel ya come for me. Fucking show me how good I’m makin’ you feel.”

You bring one of Joel’s hands that’s encased around you up to your mouth, pushing two of his digits past your lips so you can coat them nicely in your saliva, swirling your tongue around them. Joel can’t take his eyes off you as he watches you take his fingers to the back of your throat and back out of your mouth with a ‘pop’.

“Rub my c-clit Joel— need it s’bad.” His hand begins it’s travel across your hot skin, gliding down until it lands in between your legs, rubbing your puffy clit with his fingers, enticing you closer to your release.

Your head lands against the top of his shoulder, “fuck Joel yes— I’m so close—fuck Joel I’m gonna come, please let me come.”

His eyes screw shut, your filthy words effecting him more than he wanted them too, bringing that tight knot in his stomach straight up to the surface, ready to be relieved in a matter of seconds.

Joel’s voice sounds so desperate, breathless pants brushing the sides of your face, “you can come baby, fuck— come f’me.”

Your second orgasm hits and the intensity is unmatched to anything you’ve ever felt in your entire life. Your legs start to shake and toes curl and you can feel your insides throb and gush around Joel’s thickness. Joel’s humming in your ear is hard to pick up on as your release fills your whole body, the ringing in your ears and white sparks behind your eyelids sending you into another dimension.

“Fuckin’ good girl that’s it you’re doing so well f’me— shit darlin’ y’gonna make me come.”

Pleasure soon subsides into overstimulation as you come down from your high, your body been given that unbelievable pleasure and satisfaction. Joel’s hips soon start to stutter behind you, losing that rhythm he held onto so strongly, ready to fill you up with his release.

“Please Joel come inside me, wanna feel you fill me up—missed being full of you.”

He grabs your jaw, easily fitting it into his palm as he brings your lips back onto his, watching you as you come back down to reality. He eyes don’t leave yours as his cock jumps inside of you, lips trembling as your pussy pulls him in. “Fuck,” he mumbles into your mouth, “fuck I’m coming,” you reattached your lips, his grunts being silenced by your mouth as he hits his peak and spurts of his hot come fill up into your velvety walls, milking him of everything he’s worth. He comes hard; the force of it knocking the air straight out of his lungs.

Joel’s hold on you tightens, his thrusts gradually fading down until he shields himself inside you, not ready to feel the loss of your pussy just yet, keeping you close and flushed up against him.

Once his lips leave yours Joel can take the moment to bring the air back into his chest, his gaze locking onto every feature that’s plastered across your face, reading your expressions as pure bliss continues to wash over you.

“You okay darlin’?” He hugs you even tighter, forever appreciating these tender moments with you. “Fuckin’ hell I’ve missed you.”

You nudge your nose against his, the biggest grin landing across your face. “I’m okay Joel— I’ve missed too— so much.”

Joel plants kisses all across your shoulder, pulling himself out of you slowly, wincing as the change in temperature hits him. He already misses the way your pussy wrapped it’s way around him, never feeling anything like it before. He makes his way over to the bedside drawer, pulling out a towel to clean you both up.

One you’ve both freshened up, Joel’s pulling you across the bed so you’re flushed against him, your body moulding into his so flawlessly as he lays on his side behind you.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long sweetheart I know it’s been hard f’you. It won’t be forever I promise y’that.”

Joel knows the right words to say to give you that sense of certainty, never being the one to break any promises he gives you, knowing that you’ll have him back all to yourself soon brings excitement to your chest.

“I know Joel I understand, just can’t wait to have you all to m’self again.”

His low chuckle vibrates against your cheek, he lays a quick kiss on your jaw. “Same here baby, I can’t wait either.”

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

The sunrise beaming through the gaps of the blinds awakens Joel out of his deep sleep, blinding him from his view. Your warm skin is still pushed up against his chest, the sound of soft, content signs leaving your lips as sleep still consumes you. Joel looks down at your body, forgetting what it was like to have you so close to him instead of constantly waking up in an empty bed.

Knowing he had you to wake up to made the mornings Joel’s favourite time of day. You finally brought him that feeling of solace and safety that he’s been searching for most of his life.

Joel knew if he had you by his side, he was home.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Tysm for reading! Please let me know what you think!🤍🫶

[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.

TAGLIST: @shiningnono ; @yasmin-uc ; @heystaystray ; @calibabii21 ; @itsyagirll ; @foxydumps ; @evepsycheandbluebirdswife ; @kundann | general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

[the-ace-with-spades]

(I adore fics where Johnny’s family loves Ghost from day one, but, you know…angst)

Soap and Ghost had been together for almost two years. They never name the relationship, really, but it's serious and they both know it.

Thing is, Johnny's seen Ghost's face a total of four times, counting Las Almas.

Well, he sees parts of it regularly, more than others. Ghost will either roll the balaclava up when they're reading together in bed or when they're eating. Sometimes, when Soap wants to go out and Ghost indulges him, he goes in public in just either a face mask or a gaiter and Soap can see his short wavy blonde hair sticking all over the place and 

The four times he had seen Simon’s face in it’s whole — obviously, Las Almas; one time when he was unconscious and bleeding from a head wound and Johnny had to check; one time when they took a shower together, Simon stayed with his back toward him through most of it, but when they finished, he let Johnny dry off his hair; one time, when Johnny asked him to see him for his birthday presents, a few minutes after midnight.

Johnny wasn’t sure why exactly Simon didn’t want to show him his face. It wasn’t a trust thing — he trusted Johnny with more than his own life — and it wasn’t like he was ugly — he was downright sinful. He never drilled the topic because he didn’t care, if SImon wasn’t ready, then he wasn’t ready, but if he had to guess, it was all to do with identity and being seen. No one knew his face — people could know his name, Simon “Ghost” Riley, but they wouldn’t know the man behind the mask. Wouldn’t know the people behind Simon “Ghost” Riley.

(Johnny wasn’t completely off on the assumption — Simon didn’t want anyone to know his face because faceless people weren’t missed. Faceless graves — like his own — didn’t have people to leave behind, and faceless soldiers didn’t have loved ones to find and he was both. No one could get hurt if he remained faceless. Or at least that’s what he’d been telling himself.)

And Johnny is okay with that — if Simon never showe him his face again, he’d still love him all the same. Johnny’s family? Not so much.

They’re supposed to be in Glasgow for five days total, leaving after Boxing Day. Johnny gives them all a warning, that Ghost is a bit shy and doesn’t like showing his face, he’ll most likely stay covered the whole time, he might be wearing a balaclava, or a mask, he probably won't eat at the table.

When they arrive at his parents house, it almost seems like everyone forgot. Like everyone thought it'd be more mild or that Johnny was exaggerating.

There are looks. There is silence. People can't stop staring.

His mam takes one look at Simon’s balaclava once they enter the living room and looks funny at them. “Ah thooght Ah tauld ye boays tae strip doon.”

“Mam, lea him alane,” he tries but he can tell that Simon is getting tense and his mam is getting tense.

His mam, who is usually the sweetest person ever, is uncharacteristically quiet and curt whenever Simon is around. Simon doesn't really know how to make it better — Johnny's never seen him so silent outside of stealth missions, he just stands there like a sore thumb, not making anything less awkward. He didn't expect him to — Simon's social skills are lacking and he loves him that way — but he expected his own family to not make such a big deal out of that mask.

His da is stern and silent, which is as disapproving as he gets. His sisters are a bit weirded out, but mostly focused on teasing Johnny, even making fun of the mask. With a stupid grin, his older sister asks, “Does he keep it oan in bed?”

Johnny doesn't say anything to that, even though his face feels red. His sisters stop laughing.

“He does?” When Johnny tries to step out of the room and avoid the conversation, his sister’s tone changes. “Hae ye e’en seen his face?”

“O’ coorse Ah hae,” he spits out. He doesn’t specify it was only four times — he doesn’t think it’d help. “And ‘s a bonnie ane, alricht.”

It doesn’t save the situation and his sisters are also weirded out and wary from then on.

 The kids do not care — they ask maybe two questions, tilts their head as Simon explains and that’s it — and Johnny breathes a little easier as soon as his nieces push Simon outside to help them build a snowman.

The judgment doesn’t stop. Johnny’s blood boils any time it shows and even though Simon says it’s all fine, he can’t stop feeling angry about this. They just can’t get past the mask.

Christmas Eve and Christmas Day are difficult to Simon and Johnny knows it. He’s given him the option to omit the family dinner on both those days if he’s not feeling alright enough to spend those days in crowdy house filled with a flock of loud and cheery people of all ages.

Simon knows this. He also knows that if he says he wants to stay at Johnny’s flat for the time being, Johnny is going to insist he doesn’t have to go either, that he’d prefer to stay in with him and not go for the Christmas dinner. Which he also knows is bullshit — Johnny loves Christmas, loves spenidng time with his family, that was basically why he kept on insisting Simon couldn’t stay alone at the base for Christmas another year in a row. It was the main reason why he agreed to go with Johnny in the first place, he was pretty sure if he didn’t go with him, Johnny would insist he stays, too. 

So Simon stays in for Christmas Eve — or rather goes to a pub while Soap spends the day with his parents — but insists they go to Christmas dinner. 

His family is disappointed to see him there, to the point the usual manuevering around politeness and disapproving go onto a backburner.

“John said yer nae a fan o’ Christmas,” Johnny’s mum says to him pointedly.

“That’s right.”

“And yet ye’r ’ere,” she notes.

Johnny is far away from the earshot and he doesn’t want to lie to her so he admits, “If I didn’t come, Johnny would insist on keepin’ me company.”

“How come ye dinnae try to hae a bit mair cheer fur th' holidays then? Put a bit mair effort in for ma baby.” 

Johnny notices and soon enough, he’s next to him, their arms brushing, Johnny’s hand on the small of his back. “Lea him alane, mam.”

“It’s fine,” he says even though it’s not fine. They deserve an explanation, even just to know what they son is getting himself into. “My family was murdered on Christmas Eve. I’m—I’m trying.”

The silence falls over the room — Johnny’s mum, dad, his sister, all present, not looking at them. Simon closes his eyes, tries to breathe.

Johnny rubs his back. “Let’s gae home.”

“I’m not ruining Christmas for you, Johnny,” he says. Before Johnny can deny it — and he knows he’d try — he tries to placate, “Let’s just have ourselves a minute to calm down.”

Maybe it’s the way his voice is perfectly levelled or the way his hand trembles as he squeezes Johnny’s, but he lets him leave the room.

He steps outside — to the backyard. Sits down on the step to the garden and lets the snow soak through his jeans and the top o his balaclava.

The kids come outside, tripping over Simon’s legs. They were all oblivious to the trails and errors of Simon’s integration into the family, so they approach him as always

“Whit's wrang?”

There’s just something so innocent in having a six-year-old girl covered from head to toe in pink and glitter worry about you. Simon would never admit it in front of Johnny, but he finds the accent cute.

Simon takes off the mask.

The kids all look at him and look at him, a bit unsure maybe a bit fearful — it can be a scary sight, he admits, the elongated, jagged smile that sticks to him no matter the mood, makes him more crazy than he already is — but only one of Johnny’s niece keeps her eyes on Simon’s face. 

Shily, she asks, “Does it hurt?”

“No,” he replies. When she smiles, he smiles back.

Not anymore.

This is Johnny’s family. Simon can deny it all he wants, but Johnny’s seen him as family, as someone he’d leave behind, and it hadn’t been unrequited. He can’t hide behind a mask forever and maybe this was the kick he needed.

He steps back inside when his hands turn numb. He doesn’t put the mask back on.

Johnny’s eyes widen. “Simon?”

Simon just—smiles. He can feel the scars pulling on the corners of his mouth, the stiffer skin, but he’s not faceless. He’s not been faceless for a while.

Edit (29/03/24): This is now a WIP for a minimum 15k fic, titled don't shoot me, santa, that will have 4 chapters and will be posted (hopefully) later in the year

[itsnevercasual]

Sweet Creature

harry styles masterlist

pairing: kinda dark!harry styles x reader

summary: harry’s mother finds a girl on the side of the street one day while harry’s away. he hears about her for months, until he finally decides to see for himself. expecting her to be an undercover rat, he is surprised to find a girl more similar to a deer in headlights.

warning: kinda dark harry kinda alludes to him doing illegal, mafia type stuff but it isn’t specified. third person writing instead of second, READER DOESN’T USE HER REAL NAME!!! she will eventually just not yet.

—

harry had been hearing about some girl non-stop. by who, you may ask?

his mother.

his sweet, kind mother somehow found a girl who was living on the streets, took her in (gave her his room!), and is obsessed with her.

“oh, harry, she’s just the sweetest! gemma says she’s like a kicked puppy, but she’s just so sweet. this morning, i woke up, and she’d cleaned the whole house! and i asked her why, because i obviously didn’t tell her to, and she said she figured she should. you’d love her. proper sweetheart.”

and honestly, it was sweet. he probably would like her if he wasn’t the way he is. because the way he is, he thinks it’s a trap. he thinks she was never really living on the streets, and it’s a ploy. someone found his family and is trying to ruin it.

but, of course, he’d never let his mother know of the way he actually is and thinks, or what he does for a living.

“she sounds lovely, mum. what did you say her name was?”

“she says it’s belle. she’s always singing some french song. i think she lived in france before she got here.. i’m not sure. she isn’t very talkative.”

“she got an accent?”

“a little bit of everything, hazza. when will you come visit? i think you have to be the one to tell her that your room is hers now. she keeps saying ‘harry’s room’ and ‘your son’s room’. i feel horrible!”

“she’s probably just weary mum. if she was on the streets before, she probably just doesn’t want to jinx it.”

“you’re right.. gosh, she won’t even let gemma and i buy her things. she just borrows gemma’s clothes and apologizes a bunch for it. i’m not sure what to do.”

“i’ll come visit soon.”

—

and he did. a surprise visit in the middle of the night, because he was convinced he’s find this belle girl doing shady things .

except when he snuck in the front door, the house was quiet.

alright, he supposes, she’s stealthy.

so he goes upstairs and quietly opens his bedroom door.

and that’s when it’s a little louder. a girl is twisted and turning and mumbling in her sleep on his bed.

all she is saying, from what he can hear, is no. no, no, no, no, no. please, no.

and he feels a little bad, so he walks over to tap her. when that doesn’t work, he shakes her.

her eyes snap open and she has probably the worst reaction possible in this situation.

she fucking screams. like a goddamn banshee.

and sure, it lasts for maybe five seconds, probably four, but she definitely woke his mother up. and it’s so loud, he backs up to the doorway.

gemma was probably still passed out. she would sleep through the world ending.

“hey! it’s just me, calm down!”

she squinted at him through the darkness before yanking the chain on the lamp, turning it on.

he could hear her practically hyperventilating from the doorway.

she let out a sigh of relief when she recognized him from the photos in the living room.

“you really are jumpy, huh?”

“i woke up to a random man hovering over me,” she deadpans.

he almost laughs.

“it’s my room.”

and it’s like a fucking switch. her breaths are staggered and labored, but she still rushes out a whole ass monologue. kicked puppy, indeed.

“oh, my god. i am so sorry. i forgot. i can— i can take the couch— you probably want to sleep in your bed. i’m sorry, anne didn’t say you were coming by or else i would’ve cleaned up—“

the room is spotless, probably cleaner than when he stays in it, but harry doesn’t say that.

“i’ll just.. grab my blanket and stuff and go to the couch. i’m so sorry, i didn’t know—“

“relax,” he finally says. “i knew you’d be in here. i was just.. grabbing a pillow. didn’t realize mum was serious about you being jumpy.”

“oh.. uh.. are you sure? i can take the couch—“

“belle— belle, right?” she nods. “go back to bed. i have slept on plenty of couches. i will survive.”

“i feel bad.”

“well, don’t.”

he should feel bad. she is very clearly not dangerous unless she is a phenomenal actress.

“you’re not mad, are you? because i can sleep on the couch—“

“jesus, are y’gonna cry?”

“i can’t help it! i’m sorry!—“

“what on earth is going on— harry! what did you do!” anne asked as she rushed through the doorway, moving to sit next to belle.

“i didn’t do anything!” he defends.

“he didn’t do anything, anne,” she repeats. “just.. frightened me, is all.”

anne gives her a look before pulling her into a hug, and she just flips another switch and instead of watering eyes, she sobs.

who the hell is her acting coach? maybe he could take a few lessons.

“h, go get her a cuppa.. and there’s those baby yogurt melts in the cupboard.”

he doesn’t comment on the fact that belle is at the very least 19, and probably shouldn’t be eating baby food.

—

the next morning, belle made her way downstairs quietly. she was surprised to see harry making a cup of tea this early, but she didn’t say anything, not wanting to disturb his peace.

she adjusted her earbuds in her ear (anne offered to buy her better ones, airpods or something, but she was fine with her earbuds, even if the wire was a pain in the ass), so they didn’t fall out as she walked.

once she made it into the kitchen, she walked into the pantry, grabbing some random granola bar.

when she turned, she jumped. harry was right behind her. well, in front of her now.

“sorry,” she mumbled, moving out of his way.

he muttered something she didn’t understand.

“um.. sorry about.. last night. i’m kind of jumpy.”

“i noticed.”

he was very short. he didn’t seem to like her much.

“you can.. uh.. take your.. room back.. if you want.”

“it’s yours. i’m fine.”

“are you—“

“i’m sure.”

rude. why was he so rude? what had she done to him? well, besides scream at him, but in her defense, he was just hovering over her! that’s weird!

—

harry still didn’t trust her after a week of being there. she kept to herself for the most part, although he was pretty sure he heard her and gemma giggling in the middle of the night.

he just couldn’t figure out who sent her. why she was here.

his mother explained her freakout when he showed up eventually.

“you gotta be careful with her, h. she’s like.. a bunny, in a way. if you aren’t careful in how you approach her and speak to her, she bolts. first day she was here, i asked her what happened, because she had this horrible cut on her cheek. locked herself in your room for a week. i think whatever put her on the streets is a sensitive topic, and was difficult for her.”

“i jus’ dunno if i trust her, mum.”

“well, i do. she’s sweet, she just needs to warm up to you. she warmed up to me and gemma after about a week or two.. and she’s been more jumpy when gem brings michael around. so.. she might just need a minute.”

“the whole thing just seems.. shady.”

“she’ll tell us when she’s ready. and until then, you’ll make her feel welcomed. speaking of, i’m gonna go wash her clothes. poor girl won’t let us buy her anything. she just has these same clothes she had and a few things gemma convinced her to use.”

—

a/n: little thing i wrote on a plane, part 2 soon-ish maybe

[packsvlog]

❛ 𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 | 愛 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝘂𝗿𝘂

✶ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: never one to trust old men in high positions, you decide to follow your guts and track down your best friend to question him on the rumors. what you didn’t expected was to be forced to sit in a small chair and play tea party with two little girls.

✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: it took me two days to write this, i’m super sick, but i love geto. i also really need to make a masterlist, but i don’t know how to make the link with the name, pls help sos. also reader’s domain name is embarrassing pls ignore it, i’m not good with names. english is not my first language. 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓: reader’s cursed technique is basically ‘enhanced’, anything they do is 100x more, and it’s heavenly influenced by their emotions, mostly anger and another one very special.

✶ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: friends to lovers, mostly fluff but has a bit of angst, mentions of murder, blood, violence, reader has no gender specified except one part where they are called ‘Queen’ but you can read as you please. reader is a special grade sorcerer. suggestive theme at the end. happy ending.

✶ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.8k

You know the Higher Ups can sense the aggressiveness in your aura. Even behind their so called protection nothing could stop you from slicing them with your bare hands, the thought of that ignites your energy. Behind you, someone gasp.

“I’m going to be gentle and kindly suppose this energy you are emitting comes from your anger towards the criminal Geto Suguru.” A male old voice makes itself present.

“If you want to believe that, then be my guest.” You answer in a heartbeat. Principal Yaga is by your side, that was supposed to be his reunion, but when you heard the talk would be about your best friend, Geto Suguru, you barged in the room before Masamichi.

“You are not supposed to be here, insolent girl.” Another voice, still old and male, speaks to you. You roll your eyes and snicker at it.

“You are talking about an important Special Grade Sorcerer, and I know this talk will reach me eventually. If it is true what you say, is either me or Gojo Satoru you will be sending to try to kill him.” Yaga sighs at your answer, but does not stop you.

“What we say? Haven’t you know? Haven’t you seen the pictures?” The first person ask, voice shaking in anger. “Geto Suguru is a monster who needs to be exterminated, he annihilated a whole village and we have prove to believe his own parents as well.”

“We will not send you, L/n Y/n, for your insolence.” A third leader speaks, much calm and colder than the others. “There will be no such thing as try to kill him, Geto Suguru is certain to die. You and Gojo Satoru may be special graders as well, but your loyalty is stained with the blood of those innocents. Someone else will do the job.”

Principal Yaga’s hand reached your back, you turned to him hesitant, you see his head pointing to the doors outside telling you your time here was over.

You moved faster than anyone could see, leaving the school grounds in mere seconds, you reached the forest and let your anger dissipate in the form of a scream, so loud and so yourself, a barrier was created leaving your throat and splitting the trees in front of you.

“Your cursed technique never fails to amaze me, Y/n.” Gojo appeared behind you, his hands falling from his ears. “Unconditionally, huh? Everything you do, you do majestically. Run, scream, jump, punch…”

“Shut up, Satoru.” The tall boy laughed at that.

“I wonder if it works for all your emotions, don’t you?” Gojo circled you, much like a predator ready to strike. “Your anger is your strong point, am I right?” He doesn’t wait for your answer. “Whenever you are angry, you could break Tokyo with just one punch to the floor.”

“Where are you trying to get with that, Gojo?” It had been too long since the last time you addressed your friend as that, your squeezed your eyes at him, but the boy was unfazed.

“Don’t you think the oldest, most powerful emotion in humanity could change you? Transform you into something more dangerous?” He stops in front of you.

“What could possibly be more strong than anger?”

“It’s, obviously, love. I can feel it in your aura the amount of love you have for Suguru.” Gojo says nonchalant, making you question if you heard right.

“What…”

“He is my best friend as well, Y/n.” The white haired interrupts you. “And I love him enough to want to go after him, but for some reason I can’t. I’m afraid I’ll see something terrible, sense the reality, and try to kill him.” Gojo takes your hand in his. “I don’t think I can kill him, but the thought of trying scares me. I can’t lose him, and neither can you.”

“What do you mean by all that, Satoru?” Your whisper barely reached Gojo.

“If it comes to meeting him, you should do it. Your love for him could be either his salvation or we lose you to him, but I don’t think you would mind that, would you?”

“You think he did it?”

“I don’t want to think.”

A week after that weird conversation, Gojo, Shoko and you had been meeting more than normal in private spaces. For the unknown eye, the three of you are just friends catching up after the loss of the fourth party. But in the reality of your room, Shoko has been using her secret weapon to make Gojo’s plan work — her messages with Geto Suguru about you, cute and overly sweet.

“I don’t like this. I don’t get this!” You mumble on your cat plush, a gift Geto gave you. Your whole face is pink and your lips are numb for the amount of time you have bitten it.

“I don’t get it either. She already loves him too much, no need for this torture.” Shoko laughs at your embarrassed state, when she turns to Gojo, the girl scrunches her eyebrows. “What is it, weirdo?”

You turn to look at Gojo and he is intensely staring at you, which makes you feel uncomfortable, and a little scared.

“You can’t feel it?” He simply ask.

“Feel what?” Taking the pillow from under you, you hug it tight to your chest.

“Feel Geto.” Gojo whisper. “Can’t you sense where he is?”

“How on earth would she be able to do that, Satoru?” Shoko mumbles before grabbing her cigarette and moving towards the window. Unfortunately Ieiri is in Gojo’s presence, and the boy follows her quickly to complain about the smell.

You turn your face down to meet the fluffy cat under you, it’s quite ugly but lovely behind its weird black shaggy tissue. Geto had given it to you after one of your first missions together, he took you to a fair and got you the little fella you kindly named ‘Catoru’.

In your heart you could sense the connection to the ugly thing, linking a string that connected your core to its own, and if you turned down the sound of Shoko and Gojo’s bickering, you could feel a third presence in it. You wondered silently if Satoru was right and your so called love for Geto could create this bridge between the two of you, enough that you could sense him anywhere he was. Could Suguru feel you too?

You tried to focus on that silver string that laced both your heart and the plush, closing your eyes you scanned the deepest part of your soul, of your technique, that you had never been knowledgeable about. It was only in what seemed hours later, you opened your eyes with goosebumps all over you.

You turned back, seeing Gojo and Shoko still arguing — it had only been a few seconds. Maybe you were stronger when it came to fondness, love.

You took some days practicing this new technique and also to make sure Geto was still in the same place, not moving around like the criminal everyone thought of him. If he was still that meant he was innocent, right? It had to be.

Gojo barged into your room on the fourth day, his breath unhinged. You jump out of the bed in a second.

“They already send someone!” You stared at your friend with confusion all over your face. “This Grade One from Russia, they said he will become a Special Grade if he kills Geto. He is strong, I could feel him all across the campus.”

Gojo didn’t stop you when you moved to your bathroom and returned with your uniform. You turned to him, who was now sitting on your bed and hugged his shoulders.

“If this is the last time, you need to know you are my best friend as well. And we may fight a lot, but I would burn this world for you.” You let Gojo go and move towards your door, he stays petrified at the ideia of losing you and Geto. “Tell Shoko I love her as well.”

You leave so quickly, lifting dust from the floor and creating a warm breeze that kisses Satoru’s cheeks and tears.

It takes your half an hour to reach the other string — the location Suguru is. And you find him almost instantly, in the garden of the temple he has settled, he uses traditional clothes and his hair is half up and down. You are taken back by his new look, but mostly by the fact he is fighting the russian sorcerer, and he does seems to be nearly losing.

One of Suguru’s curses launches at the unknown male, and that’s the moment your friend notices you. By the look of his face, he was normal, but his hands instantly trembled in your presence. You start to walk towards him, but the foreigner appears again, his sword nearly slashing Geto’s arm off.

You can feel fear creeping your veins, and it’s not good — Fear makes you weak, but how to avoid it when the man you hold so dearly is fighting a life and death battle?

“I wouldn’t oppose to a little help, sweetheart.” Geto’s voice snapped not only you, but the russian, he punches Suguru, who falls, and turns to you.

“They warned me about you.” He says with a thick accent, pointing his sword in your direction. “They gave me the green light to kill you if you come here. So be patient, love. I’m right at you, gotta end this one first.”

You are disgusted by him, but the way he says “Love” reminds you of your mission, and so you look at Geto, who is already staring at you. He simply smiles, and that turns into fuel for your next movements.

It’s like sliding through water, in a quick second you are behind the foreigner. He turns to you startled, and Geto uses the opportunity to move inside the temple. Before the man can do anything, you punch him in his face, and during his dazed state you move your hands, making your signal.

“Domain expension, Unconditional Disaster.”

It’s not long before you come inside the temple, blood drips from your head to your toes, but you are unharmed. Geto knows this, but he can’t help himself and lunges at you, holding your wet face and searching for any bruises, as if him himself isn’t scattered with some.

“My savior.” Geto laughs quietly, and you can’t help but mimic him. He takes you by your shoulder, tainting his robes, he moves with you to somewhere you don’t care to know. You are in his arms and that’s the place you were meant to be. You wonder if Gojo was right, would you trade anything for Suguru?

Inside an ancient decorated room, Geto grabs a pair of clothes you could only guess belongs to him, he takes your hand and you follow him into the bathroom. He doesn’t say anything when he turns the water to cold, as you have always enjoyed.

During the shower, you can’t help but wonder what is going to happen now. Would another sorcerer be sent to kill you and Geto? Would it be Gojo? He wouldn’t do it, you knew that. A part of you was growing accepting your place besides Suguru, maybe Satoru and Shoko, even Nanami, could come as well, you all would be happy.

You left the bathroom already dressed with Geto’s black sweater and pants, while drying your hair you notice Suguru is not there, and also the eerie feeling the whole building has, with that you hold the towel with a bit of strength, before returning it back to the bathroom. You move towards the door, needing to find Suguru like your life depended on this, but before you reach the door pain shoots through your feet.

“Argh! What the hell…?!”

You turn to look down, and what you would expect to be a knife, turns into a mini lego castle, now dismembered. You scrunch your eyebrows, turning your attention from the toy to the room, you start to notice how Suguru’s room is splattered with a couple of children’s plaything. On the wall next to you there is a mini wooden kitchen, with an equally small dinning table. To your other side, near the bed, a fortress made with blankets, massive pillows and fairy lights, there is also an immense amount of animal plushies. Was Suguru trying to heal his inner child or something?

“Getou-sama!” A high pitched voice comes from behind the door, you jump frightened and for the second time, you land on the lego, now breaking it, a few swear words scape your mouth. “What was that? It’s that his girlfriend, Mimiko?” You don’t hear an answer to that. “Hey lady, can we go inside, pretty pretty prettyyyyyy please?”

“Nanako! Getou-sama told us to let her alone.” The second voice, much more calmer interrupts the first girl.

You bite your lips trying to contain a laugh, especially when you notice the doorknob being shaken. If you could guess, the little girl is trying to open but her height doesn’t help. You sigh, grabbing the broken toy near your feet, dropping in a box near the door and with a slow movement, you open it.

“Oh, you are prettier than Getou-sama described.” The blond girl says as soon as she sees you.

She doesn’t wait for your reaction, quickly grabbing the other’s hand and moving both of them inside the room. You turn to her, but keep still at the door, waiting for maybe Suguru to come in and address what is this.

“Come on, please. I want to have tea with you.” You can guess by her voice and direct personality that she is Nanako. She lefts her friend by the small kitchen and comes to you, closing the door behind and grabbing your hands, she moves both of you towards the dinning table, where she makes you sit. You don’t tell her you are uncomfortable sitting on the extremely small chair, but you can bet she wouldn’t care.

While you are fidgeting in your seat, both Mimiko and Nanako are playing pretend with the fake food in the kitchen. You take the opportunity to stare silently at them. Nanako is, obviously stated before by herself, the extroverted one. The girl keeps glancing at you from time to time, giving you either cute smiles or funny faces, to which you start to return back and she laughs sweetly. Mimiko, you could tell since the beginning, is more shy. The dark haired keeps her head down, she steals some glances at you, but when she notices you are looking, she goes back to her play with crimson cheeks.

“What pie do you want?” Mimiko asks with a slight tremble in her voice. The child comes to you with a plate decorated with wooden pies, you pretend to be inspecting each-one.

“What is your favorite?” Your question takes her by surprise. The plate starts to shake a bit but in her lips a small smile is forming.

“The blueberry one.” Mimiko whispers, pointing with her small finger the one of her choice.

“Then I want that one.”

The girl goes back to the kitchen, putting your ‘desert’ on a pink plate. Nanako turns to you with an also pink teacup.

“Then can you have my favorite tea?” Her pretty brown eyes stare at you like a sad puppy, you know she is trying to make you fall for her, and you do within a second, nodding your head.

When your tea and pie is in front of you, the girls fix their own plates and take a seat on the chairs by either side of you, Nanako specially moving hers closer to you.

“Gerou-sama talks about you a lot.” Nanako says while pretending to eat her raspberry pie, she ‘cleans’ the side of her mouth before looking at you. “Mimiko and I have been begging to meet you. He told us you needed to rest, but I think a tea party is the best way to rest.”

“I agree with you, honey.” The girl smiles at you. “And where is Geto?”

“We waited ‘till he was in the shower.” Mimiko answers you, less shy now. You can’t help but laugh with how sneaky both of them are.

“What does Geto talks about me?” You grab your teacup, raising your little finger like Nanako told you to, and pretend to sip on it.

“He talks about how strong you are, stronger than anyone he had ever met.” Is Nanako who answers you, and Mimiko nods. “Getou-sama also says you are his best friend in the whole world… Well, now he says we are his best friends as well. That’s why we wanted to meet you, the four of us can be good friends, right?”

“Yeah, we are going to be the bestest of friends.” Nanako smiles at that.

“He…” Mimiko starts but pause when you turn to her, you smile encouraging. “He also says he likes you a lot.” The little girl whisper, with her small hands on her mouth. “Do you also like Getou-sama?”

Before you can answer, there is a knock on the door and soon it’s opened by none other than Suguru. Long gone is his traditional clothing, now he wears something identical to you, a large pastel pink sweater with sweatpants. His hair is in his famous bun with his charming bang decorating his pretty face. Suguru’s eyes find you instantly, before catching two little girls who are running out of their seats to try to hide behind you, giggling loud.

“Hm.” Geto simple hums, before closing the door and moving toward you, and you bite your lips to avoid laughing. “You know, Y/n, I was going to introduce you to two little sisters I met a while ago, but I couldn’t find them. You haven’t seen them around, have you?”

“Oh, I haven’t, I’m just here by myself having an one person tea party.” You hear two small laughs after your answer.

“Then why is there two extra plates?” Geto sits in the chair in front of you, in his lips is a large smile you haven’t seen in a long time. You are wonderstruck for a moment, before blinking your eyes and staring at the girl’s plates.

“I was very hungry.” At that, Mimiko and Nanako can’t help but laugh louder, coming out of their hidden spot and tackling Suguru with hugs. He closes his eyes and hold the girls in both his arms. Staring at them, you feel your chest warming with a good feeling, he was still your charming Geto.

For some time, the four of you spend the tea play pretending to delight in the fake food, laughing at Suguru’s imitation of a monarch and addressing both Nanako and Mimiko as princess.

“If Getou-sama is the King, then that means Y/n-sama is his Queen?” Mimiko asks after some time, taking you by surprise.

“Hm, I don’t know. Why would that be?” Suguru turns to the little girl who shrugs her shoulders.

“Well, of course, Mimi!” Nanako answers her sister. “Can’t you see?”

“See what, Nanako?” You catch yourself asking.

“You guys are best friends who love each-other, it’s clear as crystal.” The girl get up from her chair and sits on your lap. You pat her little head and stares at her, avoiding Suguru’s eyes, but you can sense he is focusing on you.

“I think it’s time to go to sleep, girls.” Suguru gets up slowly, when you look at him he is picking Mimiko in his arms. “Don’t even try to give me your puppy eyes, Nanako. I’m avoiding them.”

“But…” Pouting, the girl shifts in your lap, hugging your body and staring at you. Damn, she does have puppy eyes that make you want to give her anything. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetie. I’ll be here in the morning.” You shouldn’t have said that, what if Suguru is only opening his house for you for today. You look at him worried, but sighs when see his beautiful contempt smile. “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

Nanako smiles triumphantly, before getting off your lap with a quick kiss to your cheeks, you get up as well and move towards Geto, before you can do anything, Mimiko also kisses your cheek, hers again burning pink.

“Thank you for coming back to Getou-sama.” The girl quietly says, and you pat her head while she hides her shy face in Suguru’s chest. Nanako grabs the man hands and the three of them leave the room, with the girls waving you goodbye.

You turn to the toys around the room and start to clean the dinning table and fix the little mess, trying to occupy your mind from the persistent question: would Geto come back? You hoped so, you wanted to question him on the rumors, but could you possibly do it? You moved towards the bed and sat on it, looking at your hands and remembering the amount of blood you had in it just a couple hours ago — did the same happened to Suguru? Would you still be by his side if it was true?

The door opens a moment later and Geto moves your way so quick, like both of you are magnets. He sits by your side and takes one of your hand in his, his breathing is calm but a part of you can sense the turmoil of his heart.

“How did you knew where I was?” It’s the first thing he says you, his eyes are focused on your tangled hands. “That I needed you? The moment I started to lose that fight, can you believe I prayed for you? And you came.”

“I’ll always come to you, Suguru.” You whisper back, catching his face with your other hand and making he look at you, there is a yellow bruise on his cheek that has your heart breaking. “I knew where you were for some time. Gojo helped me with this… Honestly, I don’t know what it is, there is a connection between you and me, and I followed it to you.”

Geto uses his free hand to caress the one you have on his face, he closes his eyes as if he was finally in peace.

“You want to know the truth, right?” You nod, he doesn’t open his eyes but you know he can sense you do. “I did it.” It’s a quiet confession that has your core shaking. “I went to that village, killed the curse and had to swallow it, the same thing over and over. The monkeys… The non-sorceress took me with them to an abandoned house, leading me to a makeshift cell where there were two sisters, little girls, so beaten their eyes were closed and bruised, their whole body was covered in bruises.” You gasp when you realize Suguru is talking about Mimiko and Nanako. “They have cursed energy, but they didn’t do it, I killed what was tormenting that village and still they were blaming the girls. How could they be so cruel and terrible to defenseless creatures?”

Geto catch his breath before letting go of your hand on his cheeks, he sighs when you remove your hand and his eyes open, moving to the ceiling. You know he wants to cry, that he is frustrate and sad.

“They told me, demanded me, to kill the girls. I couldn’t do it, Y/n, it’s not in my nature, y’know that.” You nod, squeezing his hand. You wouldn’t have killed the girls if you were in his place, but would you have killed the humans? “So, I took the non-sorceress outside and told them everything was fine, the girls were innocent. I begged to take them with me, the assholes wouldn’t have to worry about them anymore. And guess what? They denied me of it, although the girls are orphans, they wanted them for themselves. I was going to open that prison with my bare hands and take Mimiko and Nanako whether they wanted or not. But when I turned back to the house, a man said he would kill the girls himself, and the others agreed.”

You closed your eyes, already knowing how the story ended. Catching your breath, you move your head towards Geto’s chest, and he hugs you instantly.

“What…” You voice is trembling. “What about your parents?”

“I explained to them what happened, but they are non-sorceress, they didn’t understood. Humans are selfish and only trust themselves, they believed the villagers, even when they saw the girls covered in bruised, limpering. I sometimes regret it, but I was so angry, I snapped.”

Suguru’s arms hold you tighter, you could sense the fear he was having right now. After all, he had dropped all his cards at the table, the truth of his murderer nature in front of you, bleeding honesty and terror. You raised your face from his chest and stared at him, the tears shinning his purple eyes fixated on you, only you.

“You can go, if you want.” He says after some time, pain evident in his voice. “Go back to the school, tell them what happened. You can even give them my head if you want.” It hurts your heart that he thinks that of you. But should you do it? Leave Geto, go back to the High Ups and a world of fighting battles against curses, to be killed and replaced by a younger version who will follow your steps, dying as well.

“I want to stay.” You say minutes later. “I want to stay with you, with Nanako and Mimiko. If you would have me.”

Geto’s hands move to your face, staring at your eyes in search for uncertain, for maybe a lie, you can’t tell. You stare at him back with love, after all Gojo was right, you love Suguru more than anything, and have always loved him. From the first day you met each-other, especially right now, where the reality of this cruel life shifted everything you knew. There was no questioning if this decision you made was right, you couldn’t go back to the school after this, your place was by Geto’s side, had always been.

Suguru caress your cheeks, a beaming smile forming on his perfect lips, he touches your forehead with his and the two of you close your eyes. In that moment, you feel his lips on yours, and you don’t take a second to answer his movements, letting his tongue slips in your mouth and his hands fall into your tights, bringing you to his lap. Geto Suguru kisses like a starving man, starving for your love and affection you grant to him so easily, he whimpers under you.

You let his kisses fall to your neck and chest, goosebumps sure to follow, you let Geto be devoted to you like the a deity he worships. He holds you so close, afraid you might disappear somehow, slipping through his fingers. But you don’t, you bring Suguru to your embrace with the same strength he shows you.

That night you know your life changed forever, and maybe the old men with unknown faces and strong powers might send a thousand soldiers to try and kill you, but with Suguru by your side no one could touch you. After all, the ancient and strongest feeling on earth, Love, was the fuel for your powers. And love was with you, in the bed and tangling sheets, love was also in the room next door, sleeping with teddy bears. It was at the other side of Tokyo, white hair and cigarettes, in the future exchanging secrets letters and secret hangouts, even playdates with two more little loves.

You were surrounded by it, emerged in the pure essence. No High Up could come near you or your family, you would make sure of that.

⠀© packsvlog, 2024, 01 june.

[vivwritesfics]

Harry Potter au where reader (who obviously has a crush on Charles) unknowingly takes an amortentia potion which makes her obsessed with him, and she’s super embarrassed afterwards to the point where she straight up avoids him

Okay this just came to my mind but if you don't specify readers house, she's going in hufflepuff w me

Went a different way, hoping it's still cute though

Nobody had seen the fifth year slip the amortentia into Daniels drink. He was unaware as he reached for it.

But, before he could take a sip, it was snatched from him. "Thanks Danny," she said as, entirely unaware, she downed the drink spiked with love potion in one go.

Even as she went running off to the library to catch up with her homework she didn't know. Maybe if she had stopped to take a sniff of the clear liquid before she drank, she would have known what it was.

But she was still unaware as she cracked open her charms book.

She wasn't thinking about charms, though. No, from the moment she opened her book, she was thinking about Charles Leclerc.

The Gryffindor had her heart from the moment they met, but she hadn't been brave enough to say anything. Maybe that was why she was in Hufflepuff. Because she couldn't even admit to a boy that she liked him.

But Charles had never run through her mind this much. He only knew who she was because of Lando and Daniel, her housemates.

Soon her work was forgotten. As she tried to write her homework, she ended up writing his name over and over again, completely wasting her parchment.

Shaking out of it, she stood up. She slung her back over her shoulder and left the library.

She didn't make it very far though. Her mind was far away as she walked and she ended up walking into someone.

"Hey," they cried, grabbing her before she could fall.

Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at him. Fuck, the one person she didn't want to see. "Charles... I...uhm...I..."

She didn't know what to say to him. "Are you okay?" Charles asked.

She nodded her head. With embarrassment written on her face, she rushed away, her gaze on the floor. It was a miracle she didn't run into anyone else.

The amortentia hadn't quite hit at that point. Thank god, because she spent her evening thinking about him. Daniel and Lando entered the boys wing to find her on Landos bed, arms spread as she sighed dreamily.

"I love him," she said through her sigh.

Daniel and Lando looked at each other as they approached. "Love?" Asked Lando as he sat behind her.

She giggled. "You know who, silly!"

Daniel leaned against the bed post. "Suppose, hypothetically, that we don't."

"Charles, obviously!"

Daniel and Lando looked at each other before laughing. "Seriously? You have a thing for Charles Leclerc?"

"Not a thing, Danny! I love him!"

Gently, Lando combed his fingers through her hair. "Of course you do, love," he sighed. They just hoped she wouldn't remember this in the morning.

[bunchesofoats]

Proximity.

Feat — Tyler Galpin x Nevermore!Reader

Contains — Slow Build, Playful Flirting, No Established Relationship, etc ALSO SOME VERY LIGHT WEDNESDAY SPOILERS!! (Set before show in canon)

Length — ~1.8k Words

Notes — Reader’s powers/species not specified (just considered an Outcast). This isn’t proofread, moves a little fast, and was written at like 2 am so proceed with caution I guess. ALSO, I ACTUALLY WORK IN A CAFE SO I WILL INFO DUMP GRRRRBARK BARK WOOF WOOF Also, if you have any input just drop it to my inbox !

“Welcome to the Weathervane staff.”

Your new manager welcomed you with a smile, to which you replied with a nod as she left you to do paperwork. You made your way out of her office, remembering her instructions to be training with Tyler. Your feet shuffling up the stairs slowly, paying no mind to the creaks that came with it. You knew Tyler Galpin, not well, but you knew of him enough to know he was the son of the sheriff. The sheriff who didn’t seem keen on Nevermore students. Though you were pretty sure they only hired you for Outcast Diversity, you were at least happy to had gotten a job that wasn’t Pilgrim’s World.

“Medium Iced Chai Latte with a Chocolate Croissant.” A voice pulled you from your thoughts.

Trailing the voice to the source was easy considering he was the only person behind the counter before you came along. There he was, Tyler Galpin, with the usual mop of brown curls that stopped just above his eyes and the crease of concentration upon his forehead as he moved to fiddle with the espresso machine. You’d been dragged here enough by Enid to know the details, especially considering she kept tabs on everyone.

“You’re looking at the wrong end of the machine, Galpin.” You called out, causing him to jump. A smile crawled its way onto your face at his expression. It didn’t take long for him to register who you were outside of the Nevermore uniform, he had seen you enough and he knew there was a new applicant coming in.

“Do you make a habit of scaring the hell out of people?” He gave you a pointed look.

“More of a hobby,” You shrugged before making your way behind the counter. Taking a closer look at the machine, you had been right. The source of the never ending steam was a valve issue. “I’m gonna need a tri-wing screwdriver and 4 millimeter Allen wrench.”

Tyler handed you the screwdriver with no hesitation, he couldn’t understand the Italian instructions anyway and he wasn’t about to resort to Google Translate.

“You have a valve issue,” You began screwing the bits back into place, careful not to direct any steam towards you or your new coworker.

“You have one of these temperamental beasts with a mind of its own?” He quirked a brow at you, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Not exactly.” Thankfully, Nevermore had quite the class in engineering and you had fairly decent grades. The steam stopped spewing, and the machine was fixed to the best of your ability. Tyler began gathering the pieces of the pipes, filters, and other parts back into place resounding in a satisfying click.

“Thanks…” He stopped for a moment.

“Y/N.”

“No, yes! No, I mean, yes I know! You come in here a lot, and I recognize your name from your application.” He mumbled on and on.

“You’re supposed to be training me and yet you can’t remember my name?” It was your turn to point questions now. It wasn’t like you couldn’t work a register or understand the difference between a cortado or a cafe au lait, but you needed to know your way around Weathervane at least. Plus, it was fun to tease him.

“I just mean, you’re unforgettable.”

What.

“What?”

“You know what, why don’t we start off with a tour? You know the main area, but let me show you the back room.” Tyler abruptly turned away, leaving with tinted cheeks. He lead you to the small storage room on the opposite adjacent end of the bar counter. The length of it was long, but the width of it could just barely fit one person with the shelves so close on either end. He allowed you in first before following in after, showing everything from the closest to the farthest at the back wall.

With Tyler explaining everything in broad detail, it was easy enough to understand considering everything was ordered neatly from the coffee beans and food products being separated from cleaning chemicals. What was hard, on the other hand, was trying not to pay attention to the way the dim lighting reflected in his eyes. Something about it seemed familiar, almost supernaturally captivating. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume he was a Vampire or Siren or even something else entirely luring you in.

“…And if you have any questions then just ask me.” Tyler finally turned back to you, catching your gaze. He hadn’t realize how close in proximity you were, you awkwardly pressed against the wall as he had just been reaching over to point out which coffee beans were which. You hadn’t been paying attention, not with him so close. You weren’t usually the nervous type, not with Vampires and Telekinetics and Werewolves etc constantly being around you. But this newfound flip of your heart was concerning considering he was 1) a normie you hadn’t actually fully conversed with before and 2) you were still unsure of his standing with you as an Outcast.

“Yeah, I’ll call for your help when I need to fix the espresso machine.” You snort. He huffed with a lingering smile you managed to catch. Maybe his stance wasn’t as bad as his fathers.

“I’m definitely sure you don’t need to call me just for help with that, you can call me for other stuff.” Tyler shrugged.

“So you want me to call you?” Your gaze met his again, forgetting the close distance between you both. This was a different start to your new job than you were expecting. Flirting with your coworker in the back of the cafe was probably against all types of normal work ethic and morals. But when was Jericho ever normal?

“Tyler?” A voice called out from the front, breaking the tension between you two. You both recognized that voice, Tyler knowing it more than you did. You both tried to scramble out of the storage closet in an orderly manner. Tyler emerging first, Sheriff Galpin perking up to see his son from the other side of the counter. You followed suit not a second after, barely halfway out of the closet before you could see Sheriff Gallon’s face drop. Suddenly realizing how incriminating the situation seemed, you quickly grabbed a random can from the shelf within arms reach before fully exiting.

“Hey, uh, dad.” Tyler coughed out, clearing his throat from the situation you two were in. “Just showing the new hire around and restocking.” To which you maneuvered the can to one hand to give the man a small wave.

“Condensed milk? I swear you stocked and dated that one when I came by yesterday.” His dad raised a brow. Shit.

“This one’s long expired, found it on the back shelf with a manufacturing issue puncture in it.” You laughed dryly, moving the can to your side hiding it away. Tyler glanced wide eyed as his father’s expression creased.

“You want your usual?” Tyler moved towards the bar, moving his father’s attention with it. You managed to slip the can back on the shelf before closing the door and following the boy.

“Large Americano. Two shots. Hot.” The sheriff’s gaze never left, studying you closely as you followed Tyler to input the order on the register. You knew how to work a register, but you didn’t want to stay within his dad’s eye sight for long. The setup was as easy as the storage closet, everything labeled from Hot Drinks, Iced Drinks, Specials, and more. Clicking onto the hot drinks, you found everything quickly.

“Did you want to add anything in there like milk or cream?” You asked, knowing already what his answer would be.

“Black.” Like your soul, you thought. The order went through and Tyler thankfully already had it done. Reaching past you on the register to hand it to him, the sheriff gave his son a nod and you an unreadable look before leaving.

“Don’t worry about him,” You heard Tyler assure. “He’s too ‘wrapped up in work’ to care about me being in some closet with someone. Nice save, though.”

You turned to make eye contact with him, his arm resting upon the register counter by your waist and yours almost hitting his chest at the movement. Again finding yourself in close proximity.

“Does that mean you’re often caught doing who knows what in closets with people?” You raised a brow. His face flushed at the question, glancing aside and for once probably happy the cafe was emptier than usual.

“Calm down, lover boy. We’ve skipped a few steps, I still don’t even have your number to call you when I need help.” You flicked his forehead away with a smirk. He let out a small lopsided smile as he fell away from you. You were sure his number would be lying around somewhere on file or you could contact him through the employee app, but where was the fun (and consent) in that? You had no time to think about that as customers had come in.

“Ms. Thornhill, what a surprise to see you!” You couldn’t say you were shocked, Jericho’s a small town and being the only cafe around this would’ve happened eventually. You were surprised you hadn’t seen Enid out and about “blogging” despite it being a weekend.

“Y/N, lovely to see you. Why didn’t you tell me you got a job at the best cafe in town?” She gasped.

“It’s the only cafe in town, Ms. Thornhill.”

“I kid, I kid. Now what should I get? I usually get a double-cap, no foam, with two pumps of sugar free vanilla. But now that you’re my new favorite employee, I’d like your recommendation!” Favorite? Had Tyler been her favorite before? You weren’t sure what she had meant by that.

“You know me, miss, I love a good London Fog.” She knew full well of that too, you bring one into her class every other day.

“Alright, get me one of those!” You rung her up For Here and handed the item receipt to Tyler who was already steaming the milk. The next customer just wanted a warmed up Pain au Chocolat which you got out of the way quick enough.

“Here,” You heard Tyler call to you. Facing him, you noticed him holding a to go cup for you and Ms. Thornhill’s mug on the counter. Had he made two whilst you were busy?

“London Fog with an extra pump of vanilla syrup, that’s how you usually order yours.” He sheepishly scratched the back of his head.

“Now what’s this then?” You grabbed the cup.

“Just think of it as a welcome to Weathervane.” Tyler left with Ms. Thornhill’s order before you could question any further. You note a black smear on your hand, confusion riddled— you turn the cup.

— “(xxx) xxx - xxx

Call me outside of work?

- Tyler”

[sku11s1asher]

hi! i loved what you wrote for my request 😭 it was so cute, i didn't really specify it bc i forgot but yeah u did it amazing <33

and yeah u can totally make a part 2! actually i was thinking about it bc i can imagine a meeting between furina and the natlan archon while neuvi and reader are just giving glances to eachother 😭 reader looking like a total meanace but in his mind like "damn he's handsome" almost burning his cheeks and the seat lmao

neuvillette x m! reader (part 1)

note: ngl i feel like i do good at posting then smth with school pops up and i don’t post for like a month.. sorry y’all. also please tell me im not the only one who’s been on and off sick for the past month, rn i have a runny nose and a sore throat AGAIN. i just got over that like, barely 2 weeks ago.

tw: y/n is a bit of a weirdo with his thoughts since he doesn’t understand anything w/ love, internal homophobia (not really but kinda?), y/n is all over the place

After centuries of fighting, killing, and not showing emotions to anyone, all that can end because of a guy with beautiful long hair. The more y/n thinks about it, the more embarrassed he gets. He’s known for being a fearless and intimidating warrior, just for that whole facade to disappear just over a man out of all things.

This whole scenario came into place because his nation archon just had to have a meeting with Fontaine's archon, Furina, at least y/n thinks that’s her name. The meeting consisted of figuring out how to make the justice system within Natlan better and a way to make transportation easier between the two nations. y/n didn’t pay attention to the little details, he was only there to ‘protect’ his archon and make sure things went smoothly.

However, he didn’t realize that the other archon would be bringing a guest with her until a day before the meeting. It did tick y/n off a little bit that he would get notified so late but does it really matter? All y/n is doing is protecting and making sure everything doesn’t go south.

Well, it did go a bit south, as soon as Furina's guest arrived, y/n's mouth went dry. That man did things to him that he didn’t even know could happen. Maybe it was the long hair on the other man that made y/n feel warm inside, it definitely couldn’t have been the slight scent he had. No, definitely not.

Okay, y/n takes that back, he feels like he’s getting intoxicated by the proximity of the other male. It wasn’t hard to figure out that the guest, was a dragon, all it took was a quick look and a secret deep breath to figure it out. He had it figured out, his body wasn’t used to being by another dragon, and he hadn’t seen one in what, centuries? This feeling would go away in maybe 20 minutes, hopefully.

20 minutes later and y/n feels like he’s going to light the whole place on fire. His whole body feels like it’s melting, and to no one’s surprise, it’s all due to the long-haired man in front of him. The stranger might genuinely be the hottest person y/n has ever seen in his entire life. That long hair makes y/n want to run his fingers through it, maybe brush it, but that might be a bit too much to think about.

Once y/n saw the man look at him, he quickly looked away, how embarrassing.. he got caught staring hardcore. He took a deep breath before listening back into the conversation, “Ah, yes, I suppose it would do both nations good to do something like that. Maybe combining a bit of power.” the lovey talk of archons, always talking about power; like it’s the only thing that matters to them.

Power is important though, y/n is in the position he’s in right now because of how powerful he is. In complete honesty, he’s probably too powerful for his own good, only knowing how to use it to protect his nation from people deemed as enemies; even if they aren’t in the public eye. Power rules everything at the end of the day, nothing can function without power.

The more he listens into the conversation, the more he realizes he was glad he was never born as an archon; he’s been around one most of his life and it’s always been boring. Listening in did provide small details though, like the mysterious man’s name.

While y/n was somewhat able to keep his focus off of the other dragon in the room, he managed to not burn anything. But, he had a feeling his archon caught on as they gave him a questionable look; it was a very subtle one that only he could catch onto but it was obvious they knew something. Nothing is going on though, right? The man can’t help it if he gets a bit flustered whenever he remembers Neuvillette is near him.

Gosh, y/n probably looks like a blushed teenager who just confessed to his crush. Well, he at least thought he did. To everyone else though, he looked like he was on guard and was going to fight anyone who even took a step too close to his and the Natlan archon's bubble. y/ns hand accidentally gazed at the chair near him, which caused the leather to burn where his touch was. Good thing no one was looking, right?

y/n couldn’t wait any longer for this meeting to be over, his brain was thinking too many things while he was focusing on every single move everyone else did. It would be overwhelming for anyone who wasn’t trained and as skilled as he was, but that tiny overwhelming feeling didn’t compare to how fast his heart was beating. y/n hoped the other male couldn’t pick up how he was feeling, thankfully Fontaine's archon seemed to be happy with the deal she and the other archon came up with.

In Neuvillette's mind, he could tell that the fire dragon was on edge. He could also tell how much the dragon was staring at him, it was a little nerve-racking. Once Neuvillette caught a glance at the chair that was touched, it made him a bit surprised but he didn’t show it. Maybe he would talk to the other male after the meeting, for work-related things of course!

[wpdarlingpan]

Barbie x Female Reader

❌Some Spoilers Ahead❌

Hey guys! I just watched the Barbie movie and absolutely loved it. So I had to write a short fanfic on it but if you guys like it enough I may expand on it. I wanted to write this because it seems poetic that the idea of Barbie and Ken would break apart and she can see that she isn’t confined to him or the gender after it being what was expected.

Warnings: Self-Depreciation

Every day in Barbieland was absolutely perfect. Not a hair was out of place, the sun was shining, the sky was bright plastic blue and not a Barbie was frowning.

Except one.

Stereotypical Barbie was about to leave to head into the real world, find the kid who was making her a ‘weird’ barbie, and make them see the empowerment in Barbie once more. Her Barbie friends gathered around her, saying their good lucks and goodbyes, each sounding more and more similar to the last.

Y/N Barbie isnt gathered around her as she frowned at the idea of not wishing her goodbye. As much as she wished to, her brother was tightly holding her back, albeit unaware, as he bragged to another Ken about Barbie ‘inviting’ him to go with. That’s right. Her brother is Ken, as in Barbie and Ken. The supposed to be power-couple. But the truth is, it’s one sided.

Y/N didn’t notice the longing gaze sent her way from the beautiful blonde. Ken did, and of course he though it was for him resulting in a awkward kissy face being sent her way.

She had been too busy thinking about the outside world. It was so unknown. After all she wasn’t nicknamed curious barbie for no reason even if it’s not her official name.

It was odd being a Barbie without a sense of purpose. Y/N was just simply herself. She didn’t have a specified job, she just jumped around and worked with anyone who wanted a little help in their field. Oddly enough she was good at anything after a little practice.

Finally leaving the circle of thoughts as her brothers grip left her arm and her daydream was back to just that, a dream.

But the frown finally lifted at the sight of Barbie. Y/N quickly rushed down to her as Barbie was close to getting into the car.

Barbie heard the commotion of running footsteps and a slight squeak as the person in question was running too fast and literally ran into Barbie as the women in question didn’t even stumble as she felt herself be pulled into a tight hug. After noticing who it eas not a second went by before her arms wrapped tightly against Y/N’s figure.

No Barbie or Ken questioned their warm embrace. Barbie preferred it that way. She knew how Y/N let her brother get the best of her. If he questioned her too much about it, she surely would get awkward and avoid being open like this. That’s just how Y/N was… and she loved her for it.

Y/N has no idea of Barbies feelings for her, after all she’s stereotypical Barbie. She could never even imagine someone like her even considering the thought. Y/N was just another Barbie in the mix. She wasn’t even President Barbie or Doctor Barbie. Like she thought; Y/N was just her.

But that’s what made her so appealing.

Barbie knew long before she started to get flat feet that she had a crush on the girl. But ever since that happened, the only positive thing that could come out of the situation was that her feelings were intensified. They grew more mature and realistic, just like her.

Their hug ended with a soft gaze before they separated completely and Barbie got into her car. Y/N watched as she began to slowly drove away. When suddenly she slammed on the breaks making everyone gasp. She turned around and in one sentence she spoke

“Y/N… will you come with me?”

Again everyone thought nothing of it. Everyone other than Y/N and Barbie, they just smiled before saying their quick goodbyes as the former of which smiled brightly and nodded before gracefully running up to the car and hopping in.

Y/N still didn’t see the loving gaze as Barbie turned her head and continued driving away.

After all it is Barbie and Ken, not Barbie and Y/N

But with all the changes going on around them, why can’t they make one more?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Authors Note (you don’t have to read, just about the general feelings)

There is so much I can say about this movie but it’s hard to even put it into words. I give it a major 10/10, even above that if it counted. Watching the movie just gave me a different sense of self. It made me feel like I wasn’t alone. With the Barbie world and our world basically being switched where women are in high standing positions and are respected. Meanwhile our world constantly puts women down and are offered less opportunities. I don’t want to get too deep but this movie was a wake up call for so many people to see the differences in treatment and the expectations of a woman. This is just a tidbit of the deep message within the story of a Mattel doll. Something so small that represents so much more then themselves.

[featguler]

Heyyyy could you do anything for Rodrygo?

all we've been talkin' about────── the millionth morning after with rodrygo.

♡ ────── pairing : rodrygo goes x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. reader lives in brazil and has known rodrygo for a while. situationship!rodrygo goes LOL sorry... it also gets a bit heated towards the end. ♡ ────── wordcount : 809 ♡ ────── notes : "could you do anything for rodrygo?" YES. absolutely YES. thank you so much for rqing! i tried looking for one-shots for him for reference and found none!? crazy. i love him sm. i hope you enjoy this anon mwah. this is lightly based on better by khalid and 'tis the damn season by taylor swift, but as always, just in general nothing too specific ♡ masterlist.

Every once in a while, Rodrygo goes back home to Brazil.

He seems like he has found a new home in Spain—he has shinier friends there, a shinier career. You see him through the screens of your television when you have the time; you’ve got a life here in Brazil too, after all, though not as polished as his, 10 hours away.

It seems like you two live through completely separate lives—you are never quite as interested as he is in the fame, and the glory, and the spotlight. When you don’t step out of your comfort zone, everything feels so easy and freeing.

You do miss him, though. Sometimes. You try not to wonder if he misses you too.

“You were awake?”

The grogginess in your voice pulls a smile from his lips, and he leans in to place a kiss on your bare shoulder. You awaken to his hot breath against your face, his face shadowed by the sunlight from your window.

“For a good while, yeah.”

“You waited long?”

You don’t like telling your friends that you have Rodrygo Goes wrapped around your fingers every time his feet land upon your city; when your family asks, you tend to avoid the question too by mentioning another one of his stark performances.

“Not long enough,” he chuckles, leaning back to his original position, his hand rubbing the spot where his lips had sloppily left a peck, slithering down your body to intertwine your fingers together.

You furrow your eyebrows, mind still fuzzy from your rest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he laughs this time, throwing his head back.

Your mother insists always that you start dating the winger—it’s safe money, she had mentioned, and she was right. Dating Rodrygo would offer a safe life, marrying him would guarantee it.

But at 23 years old, he doesn’t look like he will settle down anytime soon. You? Well, you think that despite the little bubble you are living in, life goes beyond marrying for financial security.

Life is what you make of it, after all. And letting your friend kiss you in places friends should not see is what you make of it.

It’s what gives you the thrill—that sense of self-pity you have for yourself whenever he would leave and be rumoured with yet another different person; the pride and arrogance whenever he strides back into your arms.

You watch his eyes and the gentle curve of his lips, that you lean up to peck after a few seconds.

In response, he leans to kiss you. And then again. And again. And again. His hand reaches to the small of your back, pulling you closer, pressing your body against each other.

“Damn,” he pulls away just as the heat rises, his thumb tracing imaginary shapes on your skin. “Goddamn.”

You laugh. “Thank you, thank you.”

He joins in, trying to pull you in even closer to him.

“Hey.”

He says your name, somehow even sweeter than anyone else has.

“Yeah?” You snuggle down to his arm, pressing your cheek against his chest.

“I wonder at what point would it be okay for me to say ‘I love you’.”

He looks down at you, and for a moment, a strange silence seeps among you two. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, looking off for a moment, to the door leading to your bathroom, before looking back at you. “But I feel like I love you.”

You blink up—a part of you feels like you should have given a more avid response to his strange question, but the flow of the conversation is so natural that you being just you seens like the right move.

“I don’t want a relationship.”

At your answer, Rodrygo laughs. He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head.

“I’m not asking for a relationship,” he shakes his head, still chuckling. “I’m just saying, I love you.”

“Yeah?” You giggle alongside him. “My charm even wards off all those shiny people you met in Madrid?”

“Oh baby,” he sighs, tracing his hand on the back of your neck. “Madrid has got nothing on you, no one there got a thing.”

You roll your eyes, shifting to find a more comfortable position. “Big words, Rodrygo. And you expect me to believe that?”

Rodrygo hums for a moment. “Maybe not. Just that I love you.”

“Stop saying that,” you whine.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he raises an eyebrow, as though defending himself.

“I’m not gonna.” You raise a hand to the base of his neck and pull him closer, close enough for your lips to reach his.

Through the kiss, you feel his lips curving into a smile.

Spain or Brazil, through fame and glory, something inside of you supposes that he misses you too sometimes.

[pessimisticpigeonsworld]

The Demonizing of Change

A trend I've noticed in modern media is that many stories have the message of "protect the status quo". Whether it's a Marvel movie or a fantasy book, the fact that so often the villains are the only ones who fight to change society remains the same.

We all know the story: they were hurt by the system's flaw(s) and so they rose up to destroy that harmful system and in the process destroyed themselves. I'm not saying that this character type is wrong or bad (definitely overused imo), but the framing of the narrative and the protagonists is the issue.

The narrative typically shows the villain's first wrong doing to be the act of rebelling against the system. From the moment the person chose to reject the harmful system, they were in the wrong, or so the narrative frames it. Meanwhile, the protagonist may question and see injustice but they never fight it; it's just accepted and blindly defended. What's worse is the audience chooses to completely accept this telling and sides with the harmful regime the protagonist defends.

I find that some of the most drastic examples of these issues are Daenerys in GOT and the Darkling in the Grishaverse/SaB.

Daenerys Targaryen

One thing I want to specify before I go into this is that Dany's GOT ending is purely bad writing. It's not foreshadowed or justified in any way, so I'll be addressing how D&D tried to frame her past after S8e6 aired and how her antis interpret her.

According to D&D, we should see the beginning of Dany's "madness arc" from the very first season. Namely how she reacted to Viserys' death. While this isn't Dany rejecting a harmful system, her choosing to not defend Viserys (why would she??) is also her choosing to leave behind the cycle of abuse of her early life. It also sets the precedent of Dany killing/allowing the deaths of evil men.

Speaking of evil men, D&D also tried to paint Dany's campaign against slavery as a sign of her "megalomania and madness". This is where we get to the actual fighting against the system. Dany is leading a slave revolt and forcefully overthrowing the masters and the oppressive governments.

The way D&D tried to spin it was that Dany was wrong for using violence, and Tyrion's peaceful method was more successful. Except Dany did try peace in Meereen, it didn't work. She made concessions, she made agreements, she locked up her dragons and they weren't working. That's the whole point of her last chapter in ADWD.

However, the show chose to make it so Dany was failing because she was "too violent" and ultimately made the freedmen hate her. This choice, a clear deviation from the book, is the beginning of them trying to make Dany fall into the trope of "as bad as those you're fighting". In her fight to end slavery, she becomes as oppressive as the masters.

Which is just blatantly wrong. We see in the show that the freedmen are still free, they sit in her councils, they can come to her with their complaints and she listens. Dany is a queen, not a master. The show was already trying to gaslight its audience into believing the opposite of what they wrote. The same goes for her supposed violence. The violence she exerts is almost always towards the slavers, except when she executed Mossador for murder. That was her carrying out justice, why that was portrayed as a bad thing is beyond me.

The implications of the choices D&D made in adapting Dany's Meereen arc are very disturbing. They're basically saying that systematic and centuries old oppression should never be addressed with violence. The people who actively fight oppression are just as bad as the oppressors. If you can't magically fix a system that's been flawed for centuries immediately, you're a tyrant.

The choice to resolve the arc by having Tyrion come in with some great peaceful solution was plain stupid and sexist. We have seen in history that trying to unobtrusively phase out slavery doesn't work. By leaving the elite slave owners in peace, they are allowed to simply find ways to get around or wear down the changes. We see that in ADWD in Meereen by the way. Also the whole idea that a wise man had to come and fix the irrational woman's problem is so gross.

So basically: D&D took an arc about fighting oppression and learning that concessions only continue the cycle of violence and made it into a story about how violence is bad and you can actually just reason with slavers.

The disgusting ideas continue in season eight, where Dany torches KL for no reason and is put down like a rabid dog. Dany is the only character who wants to end oppression in this show. She's the only person to see and experience the suffering of the oppressed and chooses to do something about it. Season seven is full of her talking about leaving the world a better place and breaking the wheel. But in season eight "breaking the wheel" is turned into th deranged battle cry of her desired empire.

Let me restate that: the one character who fought to end systematic oppression is turned into the "true oppressor". Dany's desire to tear down the system that the entire show established as being unjust and awful is made into a sign of madness. Even in season seven, people were rolling their eyes at her talking about breaking the wheel.

Meanwhile, the protagonists of the show end it benefitting from the same system that tortured them the whole time. Westerosi society is shit, but the show ends glorifying the sexist, homophobic, classist, and feudalist kingdoms. They even laugh at Samwell Tarly when he suggests destroying the monarchy. All this sends the message that embracing the system is good, rebellion bad, and shut the fuck up if you're not happy.

Dany was reduced to a cautionary tale against fighting the system. I've seen people frame it as "seeking power is bad", but that doesn't make sense, as characters like Sansa actively seek power and are rewarded by the narrative. Dany's mistake was trying to change the world, rather than supporting it as it is.

The Darkling

The Darkling is a very different character from Dany; he's an actual villain. Aleksander is someone who has already reached the "become what you hate most" part of the trope, so he spends the whole story committing atrocities. The issue with his portrayal is the fact that the narrative and protagonists never address his very real reasons for fighting in the first place.

The grisha as a group are persecuted all throughout Ravka, they have been for centuries. The whole reason Aleksander begins his fight was to protect his people. By the time the series begins, the grisha are more protected, though only because they have become weapons of the state. That was only through Aleksander's mechanisations.

Aleksander became a villain in his attempts to save his people, making him a tragic character. So he has perfectly fallen into the trope, and, unfortunately, so do the protagonists. Alina and her allies all have seen and suffered under the cruelty of the Ravkan monarchy, however, they quickly dismiss just how awful it is. By the end of the story, the Darkling has become, in their eyes, the sole perpetrator of evil in Ravka.

There are no attempts made to rectify the constant damage done by the Apparat, in fact he's left to run free. Alexander Lanstov and Tatiana Grimjer are simply shipped off to a private island where they never are made to pay for the awful things they have done. There are no political reforms done to ensure the safety of grisha in the future; they're basically relying on the goodwill Zoya and Alina have bought with the people.

So basically, the minor villains who all had no reason to be completely atrocious receive basically no punishment from the narrative. Meanwhile, Aleksander, who had very valid reasons for wanting to overthrow the government, is ultimately given a fate worse than death. All his reasons for hating the Ravkan government and the power it has are ignored, even though the story set up that he's not wrong. The resolution of the story leaves the grisha just as, if not more, vulnerable to the prejudice and hatred of the world than they were before.

The narrative is communicating that Aleksander rising up for his people is worse than the centuries of corrupt Lanstovs. Aleksander is worse than the man who stirs up religious fanaticism and exploits the people through it. Yes, Aleksander did horrible things, but so did every other antagonist in the series, but he's somehow the worst because...well, he's grisha.

That's the only other difference between him and the others, aside from his motives. So either Bardugo is supporting the in-universe prejudice against grisha or she's saying rising up against an oppressive system is wrong. I don't expect her or any other author to have complex political and social commentaries in her story. However, she chose to create a world containing those elements and a main character who suffers from them. She chose to make the issues with the system have a prominent place in the story. And she chose to ignore them in the end.

Aleksander did awful things in the name of a just cause, this creates a complex moral issue that the story just never addresses. The established injustices and sanctioned atrocities by the Lanstovs are all ignored in favor of bringing down the dangerous rebel. That kind of message is pretty fucked up. Yes, Nikolai is a better man than his father, but what about his descendants? The propaganda of the Apparat and his church are extremely strong, it's only a matter of time before that propaganda once again starts turning people against grisha. The hatred of grisha is still embedded into Ravkan society.

Aleksander was the only character who was actually set on protecting and bettering the lives of the grisha. His original mission was still extremely important, no matter what he devolved to. The fact that the protagonists just blatantly dismissed just how dangerous Ravka still is for grisha is frustrating.

The treatment of both Dany and Aleksander by their writers and narratives show a hatred/mistrust of rebellion against the status quo, no matter how atrocious it is. The message of the trope is that people who fight against a system are worse than the system itself. I'm not saying that was Bardugo's intention (D&D I'm much less sure about though), but the way both the Darkling and Dany were written combined with the endings of the stories support that idea.

[saintbarou]

𝐃𝚶𝐍'𝐓 𝐘𝚶𝐔 𝐊𝐍𝚶𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝚶𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝚬 𝐓𝚶𝚾𝐈𝐂.

WARNINGS: 18+ minors dni / loosely established relationship / power dynamics / m!recieving oral / fem!reader / situationship / / the briefest touches of petplay /abuse of power lowkey i can not lie - let me know if i missed something ! (WC: 1.2k)

SYNOPSIS: the electric type gym leader of Python City decided to hole herself up, neflecting her duties for the 4th time and oliver is sent to deal with it.

author's note: written for @prettyboykatsuki. set in my own bllk pokemon au where reader is an electric type gym leader and oliver is the poison type elite four member, region is not specified.

This is the 4th time where Oliver has to be the one to sort this out. Arriving to your city - the famed Python’s City know far and wide for it’s technical prowess because the gym leader decided to hole herself up in some dark room again. The city is a beaming beacon of bright white light and dark glass skyscrapers and everywhere he looks he finds some sort of electric type walking away alight with energy. The path to your Python’s City Gym is deeply ingrained in his mind, counting the folders of information in his brain to rack through all his memories of you that fill him with a sense of deja vu as he presents his League ID to your assistants that have been dealing with the mass of angry challengers that have not backed down from wanting to challenge you.

Your apartment is right above the Gym -a perk to this position which why you took it in the first place. You’d never be one to turn down free housing especially if all you had to do was crush some hot headed dweebs in your words from the last time he had to come visit you. Oliver is at the door to your home and looks for the key in the same place he left it, under your worn out and faded pink welcome rug your friend gave you as a horse warming gift. The apartment is dark and stale when he enters, an amused sigh leaving his lips as he makes his way down a dark hallway he is most familiar with by now.

What he finds is what he expects - you laying flat on your belly with cans of empty energy drinks around you as your eyes remain completely focused on the handsome fictitious man in whatever dating sim you find yourself enraptured in.

Your obliviousness makes him snort and even that keeps you from turning your head to the very obvious man in your room that was once not there. It’s only when he calls your name, voice too smooth and silky for what’s supposed to be a reprimand call. He likes that wide eyed look on your face, it’s very cute for the type of person you try to come off as. You say his name all shocked and surprised as if you didn’t know he would show up after all the complaints you’ve been sent from challengers and your staff.

“You’re in trouble again you know - keep this up and I won’t be able to make these types of calls once they kick you out of your position.” His words makes you turn the way, feigning nonchalance but he can see the twitching of a frown at your bottom lip.

“Don’t tell me that’d make you sad? Not seeing me?” He asked and you let the frown show on your face a little.

“Maybe.”

“Just a maybe ? I think I fuck you a little better than to just get that half-ass response.” You roll your eyes at him and pull your lips back to reveal your teeth in a harsh frown, just to get under his skin and it makes Oliver wrap a big palmed hand around the soft skin of your ankle to drag you down your bed to where he stands. Your face doesn’t change and that’s what he likes even when he starts coiling around you like a serpent with a mouse.

“Shut up - I don’t do this because I wanna fuck you I’m waiting for the stupid League to realize I don’t want this job.” Oliver hums, a soft and measured sound as he lets his hand pull up your sweats to caress more of your supple skin.

“You know I’d believe you more if you hadn’t just shaved.” He remarks and the sight of his grin is like sweet poison to you as you feel an oppressive heat fill your stomach despite having the AC blasting in your room. What happens next is a blur and you wish you could say it was the summer heat that’s beating down the people outside but you don’t even have that excuse at your disposal. Everything leading up to this moment was painstakingly crafted to make him come here but now that he is - it’s like you are losing the cords to the plan and are being tugged around by the viper in the underbrush.

Your days old sweats that are stained from your last meal are tugged down and off your legs - leaving you in a pair of boxers and a big t shirt. Somehow you end up on your knees with the edge of the bed at your chest and in between Oliver’s thighs. His shirt is pulled up and he can catch the way you watch him undo his belt with rapt attention. You look cite like this, he thinks and he tells you as such.

All he gets is that embarrassed frown he finds himself quite fond of and grins back. His pants are undone along with his belt and he looks at you expectedly.

“What?” You ask, voice quiet and filled with thinly veiled frustration. Oliver chuckles deep within his chest.

“You don’t get to waste my time by pulling these little stunts just to get fucked - make it up to me and then I’ll let you soak my dick for as long as you want.” It’s laughable how quickly you agree, trying so hard to show how eager you are for it like he can’t see how your hands tremble when they settle on his thighs to bring yourself closer to his crotch. You bring down the tops of his pants and take them down enough you can stripe his layer to reveal his cock. It’s hard and twitching - it always is when he's around you, it makes him laugh under his breathe watching your hand take him in the way you know he likes. Oliver coos down at you, giving you small encouragements as you begin to take him.

Usually he likes to drag things out especially with you.

He’s fond of making you wait, of dragging things out until the venom of lust has dulled your senses enough that he constrict you in his grip and swallow all that you are whole. The head of his cock is in your mouth, hot and wet and it makes him let out a wrecked laugh at how good it is after not having you since last time he had to come sort you out. His thigh comes behind your head, pushing it forward and making you take more than you prepared to. You gag, and Oliver laughs.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve doing this shit you know? Just cuz you’re so needy doesn’t mean you can go making trouble for your superiors.” He lectures you, serious despite the way he has his cock half way down your throat and you are so delirious that you aren’t even paying attention. He pushes your head a little further down and asks if you’re listening.

It makes his dick twitch when you nod your head with wide eyes, desperate for whatever he gives you.

“Not bad - guess a bad dog can still learn new tricks , yeah?” His hand comes to your head and grips what he can. He pulls you a little back, just enough he can see how well you shined the shaft of his cock with your mouth. Something so wicked and cruel and so mind-numbingly sweet dances in his dual colored eyes as he tilts his head to speak to you.

“Let’s see if you can learn how to beg for forgiveness now.”

[biggestxsimps]

Dance With Me

Harry Potter x Male Reader

A/N: Another Yule Ball fic, this time with Harry. I've had this idea for a while now but never got to making it, it wasn't exactly how I envisioned it but I really can't be bothered to rewrite it all. Y/N is a year older than Harry in this fic and has no specified house!

(About 1.6k Words)

It hadn’t been long since Harry had been picked to participate in the Triwizard Tournament, his shock quickly dissipating as he realised he had to find someone to take to the Yule Ball. Time was wearing thin and he still didn’t have anyone to go with.

The trio were currently feasting in The Great Hall, Ron stuffing his face as the other two spoke. “Well, who will you be taking then?” Hermione questions, “You can’t go alone.” He hung his head as he brushed Hermione off. “I know, I know.” He mimics a whine. “I can’t think of anyone else to ask though.” Hermione shakes her head disapprovingly. “You better find someone quick.”

Ron clears his throat after swallowing the giant bite he took. “Why don’t you take that guy you’ve been hanging around?” Harry questioningly looks at the red-head before Hermione chimed in. “Ah yes, the 5th year. Y/N, was it?” Harry shrugs as he feels his stomach flutter slightly. “Aren’t I supposed to go with someone, romantically?”

“Not necessarily. I mean, it’s either him or Ron, he has no partner either.” Ron mutters an offended ‘Hey!’ before Harry chuckles. “I guess I’ll ask him then.”

You and Harry only got close in the last year, as he was having trouble with his Herbology classes and you offered him assistance. The two of you would spend countless hours in the library discussing the plants and their specialties.

It didn’t take long for you both to hang out outside of studying, meeting before and after classes to talk. Conversations were spoken easily between you, it coming almost naturally. It’s why he had grown such a liking to you, you were such an easy person for him to get along with. Obviously so were Ron and Hermione, of course, but he swore it felt different with you.

He settled on asking you as soon as he saw you, hoping to catch you after your classes.

Timeskip

It was just about dusk when Harry found you walking through the halls, making your way to your dormitories. He sped-walked to try and catch up to you, calling your name once he was a few metres away. You turn to see him breathing heavily while greeting you. “Good Evening Y/N, I was wondering if I could ask you something.” You smile as you greet him back.

“Evening, Harry. What’s on your mind?” You watch as he straightens his robes. “As you know, I had planned on asking Cho out to the Yule Ball.” He shrugs as continues. “She’s already going with someone though, Cedric.” You send him an apologetic look. “Ah, what a shame. Sorry mate.” He waves his hand to brush it off.

“Don’t be, I’m not as upset as I thought I would be. I honestly feel a little relieved.” He watches as your face contorts in confusion, a wonky smile still present. “Well alright then, that was quick.” You give a short chuckle before you ask. “Who are you going with then?” Harry avoids your eyes as he stalls. “I hoped that’s where you’d come in.”

Your eyes widen. “You want to go to the Yule Ball with me?” Harry’s quick to start again. “I was talking to Ron and Hemione about it, I can’t go alone and I’d rather go with you than whoever they put me with.” He takes a short breath. “If, of course, you don’t already have a partner.” You shake your head. “No, no partner.” You let out a small laugh.

“So how is this gonna work? What exactly are we going as?” Harry feels his stomach flip as he responds. “Friends, they said nothing about it having to be romantic.” He laughs a little as he finishes. He notices a slight glint in your eyes, one that looked almost, disappointed. Yet a smile remained on your face, he must’ve been getting his hopes up.

“Of course.” You nod, letting out a quick chuckle. “Can’t wait, Harry.” You tease as you continue your walk. Harry smiles as he watches you walk away, his heart jumping out of his chest at your words, even though he knew you were joking. “Yeah, me too.” He tries to also get it out in a humorous manner, but fails. It coming out almost sincere as it falls upon deaf ears.

Timeskip

It was the night of the Ball, Harry was currently flattening out his robes in front of a full-length mirror. His eyes glanced over every part of his outfit, making sure it was perfect for you. He had placed a (House Colour) napkin in his front pocket as you had told him you would do with his.

He couldn’t help but wonder what you’d be wearing, how it’d look on you, how the fabric would wrap along your perfect body- what. Harry shakes his head as he reprimands himself. How could he have such thoughts? He places his cold hands against his heating face before walking out.

He had to be there quickly if he wanted to be there on time.

Harry had made his way to The Great Hall, now speaking with his two closest friends. It wasn’t until Hermione had stopped responding that he turned to see what she was looking at. His jaw fell at the sight of you. You had looked much more stunning than he could’ve ever imagined. He gazed over your attire, the red napkin in your pocket to the tight undershirt and the robes that fell to your knees. He had never seen you so dressed up before.

You had obviously noticed his staring, a slight smirk present on your face. “You’re drooling, Potter.” You point to the corner of your own mouth. Harry’s face erupts as he thinks of what to say to explain himself, but before he can respond, Mcgonagall rounds up the contestants and their partners. You hold out your arm towards the nervous boy, his sweating hand wrapping around it.

Harry knew he had nothing to worry about, everyone knew of your friendship with the raven and no one would have any suspicions, he hoped. He couldn’t help but recoil at the idea of walking out there. His eyes glued shut as he took a few breaths, he couldn’t give up this early. His eyes shoot open at the feeling of your other hand coming around and embracing his.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, it’ll be over just as soon as it starts.” Your smile calms his nerves, not as much as he wished, but enough to atleast get himself out there. As Mcgonagall signalled for them to walk out, he had lost all confidence, you nudged him forward and tried to walk in-sync with him.

His eyes fell on the passing students, watching as they whispered to each other while looking right at him, he was starting to feel a little sick. He hadn’t noticed you stopped until you pulled him into you, ready to start the dance. His hand shot to your shoulder as yours reached around his waist.

The music kicks and you start moving, you feel how stiff Harry is, trying to pull him as gracefully as you could. “Harry.” His eyes break from the surrounding students and land onto your own. “Just keep your eyes on me, it’s just you and me.” Harry feels his insides heat up at your words, his eyes not leaving yours once. “Great, you’re doing amazing, Harry.” He can practically feel the red reach his face at that, muttering a quiet ‘thank you’.

“I didn’t get the chance to tell you before, but you look truly gorgeous tonight.”

Harry feels as though he’s on cloud nine, the way your words seep into every crevice of his mind and how you so gently pull him across the dance floor has him absolutely smitten.

What was this feeling? He had never felt like this before, so happy and so desperate. His heart starts to skip beats, beating faster and more aggressive than it ever had before. He felt more exhilarated now than he had at any quidditch match.

The dance floor floods with the remaining students and faculty. You lean down, whispering against his ear. “See, now no ones paying attention to us.” Harry digs his head into your neck, desperately trying to hide the mass amount of blush spread amongst his face. You chuckle as you hold him tighter against you, his cheeks growing darker.

It’s only then does he realise, realise that what he’s been feeling wasn’t admiration or anything remotely platonic. He was in love, a feeling he had never felt this strong before. Merlin, how did it take him this long to figure it out. Harrys brought out of his thoughts as the music changes, a more upbeat tune being played now.

As the other students jump around, playfully dancing with their partners, Harry stops. You send him a puzzled look before he pulls your head down to level with his own. “I think I love you.” He watches as your smile grows wider and wider as you understand what he said. “It took a while, huh?” You tease as you place a quick kiss against his lips. “I love you too, Harry.”

He grins impossibly wide as he grabs onto you tighter than he did before. Quickly letting go, remembering where exactly the two of you were. You lightly laugh, before extending a hand out. “Now, how about we dance a little longer. His eyes stare into your own as he grabs onto your hand, you’re quick to pull him into the crowd.

Neither of you could’ve asked for the night to go any better.

A/N: Holy shit, this has been in my drafts for like 2 months, I hope it’s alright lmao. 

We have quite a few requests that we're writing right now, so please take this as a filler ig. I have trouble writing for Harry so any feedback is appreciated!

Masterlist

- Written by Owner 1