#Don’t toy with me visual novel

[suziehearts]

Drawing of Dahlia for cringetober!

[confaesi]

I made a funny little edit based on one of the endings in the game :D (meaning this is indeed spoilers!!)

[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

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Blood and Lust and Lust for Blood

Eternal Dreamscape

Pretty Boy Panic

Suffocation

Hell Trap

MindMindMind

Channel 453 -Shadows of the Game

Than Winter Came

Good/Bad Cop

Tom

Locked Out

The Yandere CEO

RPG/ Other Types of Games

Devil's Gankuran

Saccharine

Desperate Love Feast

Desert Nightmare

Love, Sam

Doom Stones

PC

Ephemeral Fantasy on Dark

[twst-drabbles]

Octavinelle 15

Summary: The appointment for the seafolk to get their shots is finally upon you. You’re not expecting a calm day at all.

(We love seafolk shenanigans. Wouldn't this AU be fun in, like, a slice of life visual novel with a mini game section of caring for the various pets? I think so.)

You weren’t shocked when the first thing Floyd did was snap his teeth at the vet’s fingers. He didn’t flinch but did pull back as though this was part of his daily routine. Just blinked in interest.

“Feisty little one, ain’t he?” He smiled at you, the bag containing Azul, Jade and Floyd still on your lap. “You sure he’s the one that should go first?”

“I recommend it, doc,” you tapped Floyd on his head, rude little sucker he’s being, “Shockingly, he’s going to be the easiest.”

“Alright, if you say so. Just put him on the table for me, will you?” The vet patted the examination table, “I even heated it up with just the lightest spark of magic. You’d be surprised how many pets enjoy it.”

You scooped up Floyd just as he latched onto Jade’s arms. Jade pulled back, trying to keep him in the bag but a light tickle on his sides made him let go and curl up. Floyd gave a dramatic cry before falling limp like a rag doll.

Azul, meanwhile, had buried himself under all the moist towels, like you somehow can’t see him.

You plopped the eel right onto the table. He went splat like a wet rubber toy and didn’t move. His cheek was pressed and his arms won’t stop exploring the surface, like the temperature fascinated him in the same way the warm tub did.

“Huh,” remarked the vet just as he uncapped a needle, “Well, I can only hope he stays limp enough for this. I promise it’ll be quick and easy.”

Floyd pushed himself up and tried to look back, but you grabbed his little face and squished his cheeks. “Look at me for a sec, Floyd.”

And, just as the vet promised, he was in and out. Floyd was nibbling on your fingers, but other than a small squeak when the needle went in, he didn’t go nuts and start to chomp on you. He was just scraping his teeth against your skin in annoyance, but that’s it.

“Alright, next.”

You grabbed Jade. He didn’t go limp but he did let himself be on the table after probably watching the trial run his brother went through. His curiosity was bare on his face as the vet uncapped another needle, eyes shining on the silver thing.

“Oh, a calm one,” the vet remarked, “that’s dangerous.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” you sighed out.

“Should I get him sedated or…?” The vet gestured to the door behind him.

“Nah, it’ll be fine. Just, uh, keep an eye on your needle. I think that’s what he wants.” You gave the okay.

“Ah, I’ll distract him.” He snapped his fingers, a ball of light hovered over his hand before speeding right past Jade’s face. He followed, and in that split second, the vet already did what needed to be done.

Jade jumped and lashed out behind him, little webbed claws trying to grab at the needle but the vet was faster. You put Jade back in the bag and extracted Azul out.

You could only describe Azul as a frightened curled up ball of tentacles and ink, writhing and weeping like you’re sending him to the slaughter. You probably shouldn’t have grabbed him with your bare hands. Now he won’t let go.

“Uh…” you caught the vet’s attention.

“Hmm? Something wrong?” Vet was already ready for the last pet of your appointment.

“He won’t let go.” Azul sniffled and let out another lonely sounding whistle.

“That’s alright. You can keep him on your lap.”

“Oh, okay.” If putting him on your lap comforted Azul, you wouldn’t know since you can’t see his face and the noises he’s making are just getting louder.

Azul’s grip on your wrist got tighter and tighter when the vet approached. Your bones creaked a bit and all you could do was clench your jaw just so you don’t distract the vet with your pain.

The needle went in and out. Azul went stock still.

“There we go!” The vet clapped his hands, back to the bright and jubilant self that greeted you when you entered. “All done for the moment. You doing fine there, little guy? I know that was scary for you.”

Azul slowly turned with wide, watery eyes. And in a display you rarely see, he gave his harshest chirp and spat ink right at the vet’s shirt. The guppy dissolved back into his crying mess, like his moment of indignation never happened.

Ugh, what a mess. You need to get home and change. There’s ink everywhere and you just want to nap.

[shiki-aki]

“You told me to go wherever I like, but I want to be with you until the end.”

A Shikiaki Meta

Part Three: Shiki and Akira’s Encounters (II)

“Don’t ever show me fear again.”

[Previous] Part Two: Shiki and Akira's Encounters (I)

I ended up having to split this part as well because there were too many images from the manga I wanted to include. I originally wasn't going to include much content from the manga unless it was a manga-exclusive Shikiaki scene, because my thought process was that since the manga basically copies the scenes/dialogue from the visual novel, I might as well just analyze the original source, especially since the visual novel has more text and the narrative isn't a clusterfuck of all five routes shoved into one storyline.

My intention was to place more focus on the visual novel because it's the one that most closely aligns with the author's vision considering Fuchii Kabura herself wrote it, but I decided to include some scenes from the manga as well because I realize they actually just reinforce my interpretation of Shiki and Akira's dynamic in the game, lol. And I won't deny that the Shikiaki scenes in the manga do color my interpretation of these characters, mostly with Akira's nihilistic attitude and Shiki's strong sense of purpose. Shiki's characterization is different in the manga in that he doesn't toy with Akira as much and is more focused on his goal of finding Nano, but that goal-oriented side of him is still present in the game.

Onto the actual meta.

For the next Shikiaki scene I want to analyze, I'm actually going to start off by exploring a monologue from Shiki's drama CD:

Shiki: But, the power obtained by relying on those degenerate drugs is but a facade. Those foolish people who at first strongly believed in their strength and bore their fangs, at the end shifted their gaze and shamelessly begged to be let off, or were unable to stand the fear and died with a howl like that of a monster. There are only these two types in this city, just cowardly losers. That's what I thought, until I saw that pair of eyes. Akira: I don't remember you being allowed to command me! Shiki: The flawless pupils as if they were burning, accepting and returning my stare, glaring at me like he'll never surrender. If he doesn't know anything, I can simply kill him and seal his lips. But, those eyes…

Shiki does some monologuing about how the people who rely on Rein are weak, and that there are only “two types [of people] in this city”: those who beg to be spared when faced with the prospect of death, and those who scream and run away in fear during their last moments. Regardless of which category they fall in, Shiki perceives both types of these people to be cowardly and weak, and makes a generalizing statement that these are the only types of people that exist in Toshima.

But then he meets Akira.

Shiki thinks about Akira’s eyes and the defiance he saw in them. This relates back to the motif of eyes that I brought up in the previous part of the meta, about how each time they think about each other’s eyes, it’s supposed to represent them acknowledging the defining traits that the other has. Shiki’s monologue tells us that the reason why he didn't kill Akira is because Akira doesn’t fall into either of the two categories of “cowardly losers.” Akira didn’t beg to be spared, and he didn’t try to run away from Shiki. Instead he looked Shiki in the eyes and directly opposed him.

Finally, the way his monologue trails off (“But those eyes…”) adds a perfect touch of subtlety and ambiguity to Shiki’s character. The thought is left unfinished, but we know based on the hesitation in Shiki's words and his reluctance to kill Akira that Akira left more of an impression on him than he realized.

And now I’m going to shift to the manga version of the same scene. This scene isn’t present in the game since it takes place from Shiki’s POV and the game tells the story from Akira’s POV, but it is included in the manga.

(Note: the manga scenes of Shiki’s route don’t occur in the same order as they do in the visual novel/drama CD. Most of the dialogue from the game takes place after Shiki kidnaps Akira in the manga, whereas in the game, the dialogue takes place before the kidnapping. I’m just putting this note here to provide context for why the manga scenes seem out of order when placed side-by-side with the visual novel/drama CD, but it doesn’t change how I interpret these scenes or my analysis of them.)

Love this moment of their gazes and faces mirroring each other in these very deliberately set up panels. Again, the manga has a lot of these silent, intense moments where Shiki and Akira look into each other’s eyes, and we know based on the in-game text that they’re acknowledging each other’s traits whenever this happens. What I love even more about these two specific panels, however, is the complete absence of text, whether it be dialogue or inner narration. Sometimes it’s best to just leave things ambiguous and let the visuals speak for themselves to convey chemistry and tension (or even intimacy), and honestly the Shikiaki scenes in the manga do an incredible job of relying on subtext to get their characterizations/dynamic across.

Akira asks why Shiki kills Igra participants even though Shiki himself doesn’t seem to care about collecting tags, to which Shiki replies that he only kills those who are weak. He tells Akira his philosophy, which is that “the strong kill the weak,” and that’s all that matters to Shiki because he categorizes people based on their strength.

Shiki says all of this, yet his dialogue about killing the weak is followed by this singular line in his internal dialogue as he gazes into Akira’s eyes: “Killing those eyes would be impure.” What he's really saying here is that it would be wrong of him to kill Akira (“those eyes”) because it would mean going against his own philosophy. Shiki himself proclaims that he only kills the weak, but during this moment, he acknowledges the way Akira is glaring at him head-on, and he doesn't perceive Akira's defiance as weakness. That's why he lets Akira live.

Shiki starts manhandling Akira and doing his usual stuff. He taunts Akira to fight back because he wants to see more of Akira’s resilience. Again, Akira’s resilience is the whole reason why Shiki’s even letting Akira live, because he recognizes, either subconsciously or consciously, how Akira's defiance is a form of strength in its own right.

Akira spits in Shiki’s face and Shiki commends him for it. Then Shiki comments on Akira’s “audacious eyes." It’s a stylistic word choice because the writing is intentionally drawing on the motif of eyes between Shiki and Akira. We already have visual demonstrations of this motif, as evidenced by the numerous panels of Shiki and Akira blatantly eye fucking each other throughout the manga, but now it leans into the textual side of it too as we're offered a look into Shiki's POV and see his growing obsession with Akira's eyes. And just to reiterate, the mention of Akira’s eyes is meant to reinforce a character trait about him—in this case, his defiant nature.

(And I know that this is a fan translation for the manga and not an official one, so if you really want to, you can take everything I’m saying here with a grain of salt because I don’t have the raws to confirm what Shiki actually says in this line. But based on how the fan translation seems to focus on providing a more literal translation than a natural one, I’m going to assume that Shiki does indeed talk about Akira’s eyes in this line. I’m just saying all this stuff to cover my bases lol.

Edit: Someone shared the raws with me for this page and confirmed that Shiki says 「その生意気な目がいつまで続くか......試してやる」. So he does indeed mention Akira's "audacious eyes" in this line, meaning the fan translation is accurate.)

Akira’s dialogue here is pretty ambiguous in that his sentence is cut off so we can’t tell what he actually meant to ask Shiki. But by using context clues, we can assume that this is what he wanted to ask Shiki: “If killing is such a good thing, why are you keeping me alive?”

The reason Akira is confused is because Shiki just went on a tangent about killing the weak and executing the losers in response to Akira’s question about why he kills Igra participants, but this seemingly contradicts with Shiki’s decision to keep Akira alive. As a reminder, this scene in the manga takes place after Akira gets kidnapped and brought back to Shiki’s apartment.

Shiki defaults to the typical "I am your owner" line, which makes us think that he kidnapped Akira and is keeping him alive because he views Akira as a mere plaything and intends to amuse himself by raping and abusing Akira. Which, I’m not denying any of the heinous shit that Shiki does to Akira in his route. But there’s more nuance to Shiki’s motivations than that.

What Shiki says and what he really thinks are two different things. Shiki has a bad habit of defaulting to saying possessive phrases like, “You’re mine” whenever he doesn’t actually want to express how he feels about Akira (most evident in the tunnel scene, but we’ll get to that way later). We already know that Shiki isn’t the type to outwardly express his emotions, but there’s no reason for Shiki to lie in his own thoughts to himself. I don’t see anything in these pages that would hint to Shiki being an unreliable narrator in his own POV, so we can assume that whatever thoughts he has about Akira here represent his true feelings.

And his true feelings are more complicated than just “I am your owner.”

Cue panel that features a close-up of Akira’s eye, followed by Shiki’s internal dialogue of, “His eyes. Pure, lively eyes. If he doesn’t know anything, it would be best to seal his mouth. But…”

What's really great about this whole scene, from Akira’s questions about Shiki's motivations to Shiki’s inner thoughts, is how subtly it points out the contradiction between Shiki's mindset and his actions, and how we're supposed to interpret Shiki's contradictory behavior as a sign that he has some pretty complicated and obsessive feelings toward Akira. I love it when characters exhibit little contradictions like this—contradictions that still fit within the framework of their characterizations when you think about it—because it adds depth to their characters. It shows that they're not flat and completely static, shallow characters who always act or feel or even think a certain way.

In this case, the contradiction between Shiki's words ("I only execute the losers") and his actions (keeping Akira alive as his pet) shows how affected Shiki is by Akira, because he’s never met someone like Akira. Certainly, Shiki’s behavior is unprecedented in that he’s letting Akira live and holding him captive when normally, he would kill his prey. Shiki himself tries to rationalize his decision to keep Akira alive by telling himself that it’s because it would be “impure” to kill those “pure, lively eyes,” the kind of eyes that “glare at you, unyielding.”

At this point it’s not even subtext lol. Shiki is obsessed with the way Akira meets his gaze head-on instead of looking away out of fear, because Shiki himself felt humiliated when he experienced fear and weakness for the first time. He acknowledges and subconsciously respects Akira for his fearlessness, and that's why he wants to keep Akira alive—because he sees worth in Akira's existence, even if Akira himself doesn't. And considering how Shiki kills people just for being weak, the fact that he forces Akira to live when Akira is at the lowest point in his life and has lost the will to live, is proof of how much he values Akira's existence, albeit in his own twisted way.

In this town there are only these two kinds of people. That’s what I believed.

That’s what he believed until he saw Akira’s eyes.

This is pretty much a word for word monologue of the one from Shiki’s drama CD that I analyzed earlier, so I’m not going to repeat my analysis here. I included these manga pages to show how they back up my interpretation of the Shikiaki dynamic, especially when it comes to Shiki’s side of things.

Now we get to the actual scene in the game where Shiki and Akira meet again.

Shiki’s eyes are mentioned three times in this one segment alone, four if you want to count “dispassionate gaze.” The writing is not being subtle about it at all. There’s so much emphasis on Akira gauging Shiki’s behavior just by looking him in the eyes, and I love every bit of it. Akira is able to feel Shiki's commanding presence and get a sense of his intentions just by meeting his gaze.

One thing that Shikiaki gets so right for me is the whole "gazing intently into each other’s eyes without saying anything" trope. You can feel the tension between Shiki and Akira whenever this happens. It's well-executed in the game, but it's done even better in the manga since you can actually see the visuals of Shiki and Akira gazing into each other's eyes, and it's just as intense, if not more.

The text makes a point of mentioning Akira's fear as well, which if you remember, was also explicitly brought up during their previous encounter in the game. Akira wants to escape, but something about Shiki's gaze makes him stay put.

—Those red eyes held him rooted to the spot, as if their sharp light were a wordless command that could not be disobeyed.

Their dynamic is already starting to lean into dom/sub vibes here. Honestly, I was planning to save the dom/sub analysis of their relationship for when we get to the sex scenes in Shiki's route, but it seems like a wasted opportunity to not touch upon it at least a little in this scene, so here we go.

Akira has an inclination to act defiant in front of Shiki, as we've seen several times already so far, but he also has a repressed submissive side to him that acts as a complement to Shiki's dom personality. His submissive side gets revealed when Shiki forcibly draws it out of him later on in the route, but for now, we get these little hints in their interactions instead.

Now, I don't think Akira is submissive in the sense that it's an intrinsic part of his character, but it's definitely a trait that's exacerbated when he's with Shiki because Shiki is just so dominant and aggressive. What I mean by this is that Akira's submission makes sense within the context of Shiki's route and their dynamic, but I wouldn't really expect to see it outside of Shiki's route. The submission aspect plays into the whole "obeying my will and mine alone" theme that's explored for Akira in Shiki's route, which is why I don't find it inconsistent with the rest of Akira's characterization, because the internal struggle he faces between being submissive and being willful relates to his character development.

I also think Akira has some masochistic tendencies in him that partially explain his submissive side. We're told at the beginning of the game and throughout the common route that he feels numb during fights and wants to face people who are stronger, who can make him struggle and feel the thrill of fighting again. And I've already shown in the first part of the meta how the text specifically goes out of its way to state that Akira feels excitement at the prospect of possibly getting killed in Igra, which doesn't seem like a reasonable response to have if you weren't at least a little masochistic. Of course, being masochistic in fights and being masochistic in bed are different territories, but Shiki's route specifically explores the blurring of these lines, especially as their dynamic shifts from being physically violent to sexually violent in nature after the kidnapping.

Back to the current scene.

Shiki starts getting in Akira's space and acting all pushy. You know, just Shiki doing Shiki things. Then they have a moment where they lock eyes.

From Akira's POV, this is what he thinks about Shiki's eyes:

There were those eyes again, like two sharp knives. [...] His eyes were cold enough to freeze blood.

And this is what Shiki thinks about Akira's eyes (from the drama CD):

Shiki: [Narration] As expected, his body has become stiff, but even then he is determined not to shift his stare. Those eyes as if they were challenging me, somehow got on my nerves. [End narration]

While Akira recognizes Shiki's domineering disposition during this exchange, Shiki recognizes Akira's determination and obstinacy. Again, they're able to interpret each other's behaviors and intentions just by gazing into each other's eyes, which, to me, is where their chemistry is most explicitly shown in the text. Would they be able to instinctively read each other's gazes like this if they were really as fundamentally incompatible as we're led to believe at first?

Going back to the text, Shiki calls Akira an imbecile, and Akira wonders why Shiki doesn't just kill him already if he's apparently that much of an eyesore. But we know from Shiki's POV that he doesn't want to kill Akira because he's actually intrigued by Akira's defiance and courage, and he provokes Akira because he wants to see how Akira would react when pushed around. Basically Shiki is very interested in the way Akira's mind works, and it ties back to Shiki's own struggle and feelings of powerlessness and desperation against Nano.

Akira tells Shiki off despite being well aware of how reckless and suicidal this action is, but he does it because he despises submission more than he fears death. It's the same as with their previous encounter when Akira taunted Shiki to kill him because "better that than beg." Akira is again prioritizing his pride over his life because he doesn't care much about living in the first place (or so he believes).

Shiki then grabs Akira's arm and drags Akira out to a clearing.

This scene. I'll admit, I had a hard time understanding this scene in my first few playthroughs of Shiki's route, but I think I have a good enough grasp on the Shikiaki dynamic now to understand what this scene is trying to convey. At first glance, it looks like this scene is just here to depict the power imbalance between them and show how antagonistic their relationship is becoming, but it also reveals a lot about Shiki's and Akira's characterizations, and we even get a glimpse of character development for Akira.

Shiki asks if Akira’s afraid of death and then tells him to fight back, which is probably the most overt example we've seen so far of Shiki's desire to see Akira struggle. I've been relying a lot on subtext to justify my interpretation of Shiki's character, especially when it comes to the whole Nano parallel, but here the text is very explicit about Shiki's expectations of Akira.

Shiki tells Akira outright to put up a fight against him. He specifically brings up Akira's fear of death because Shiki himself felt fear when he encountered Nano for the first time and realized his own mortality and fragility as a human. By pointing his sword at Akira's throat, he forces Akira into a position where Akira is powerless and has to confront his own fear of death the same way Shiki did. Shiki isn't just doing this because he wants to feel superior to Akira; he's doing this because he sees himself in Akira, and watching Akira persevere against him makes Shiki feel like he can also persevere against Nano.

On Akira's end, he is, understandably, very confused by Shiki's behavior. It's like Shiki is sending him mixed signals. First Shiki acts like he's pissed off at Akira for disobeying him, and now Shiki says he wants Akira to rebel against him. But I think Shiki's mixed signals are more indicative of his own emotional conflict toward Akira and how he doesn't know how he should perceive Akira, which is why he wants to see what Akira would do in this life-or-death situation. He wants to see if Akira will end up being like those other cowards who beg for their lives when faced with death, or if Akira will still preserve a sense of dignity and fight back despite knowing that he might die if he does.

Akira, of course, responds in the only way he knows how: by acting stubborn and prideful. He doesn't want to obey Shiki's demands, so he says, “…I’d rather bite my own tongue off than let you kill me.” It’s a parallel to the “You might as well kill me” line from their previous encounter. In both cases, Akira is trying to maintain agency by not submitting to Shiki and instead deciding his own fate. It doesn’t matter if he dies as long as he’s the one calling the shots.

So what does Shiki do? He calls Akira’s bluff and tells him to end his own life then if he would really rather commit suicide than let Shiki deliver the fatal blow.

I love this interaction because they are both just so incredibly stubborn and determined to have their own way. I think it’s ironic how their relationship becomes so antagonistic—not because they are fundamentally different from each other and can’t get along—but because they’re actually so similar in terms of characterization that they would never submit to each other. (But they do end up getting along by the end of Shiki's route because they realize how much they respect each other's determination).

I’m going to cut away to the drama CD for a moment because it gives us a glimpse into Shiki’s headspace during this scene:

[Narration] Even with the knife pointed at his throat, he still resists me. Unlike the despair of people about to die, those blazing eyes. [End narration] Shiki: Then, how about using this blade to cut your throat right now? Just press down to it and it'll end, really simple. I won't do anything. [Narration] I wasn't expecting anything. I just wanted to know. When faced with a situation in which he's sure to die, what would he choose? [End narration]

Even during this tense moment, or rather, it’s because it’s a tense moment, Shiki is thinking about Akira’s eyes. Akira doesn't have the eyes of someone who looks like they're about to give up, and the monologue reveals to us that Shiki is doing this because he's intrigued by Akira's unyielding attitude and wants to see more of it. Akira keeps trying to resist him even though it could very well cost him his life, but it's precisely that irrationality that makes Shiki drawn to him. Shiki keeps pushing Akira because he wants to see if Akira has a limit where he'll crumble—if such a limit even exists—and Akira's refusal to give up is also something that speaks to Shiki, because Shiki has his own demon to deal with in the form of Nano.

Now we return to Akira’s POV. While Akira is hesitating on committing suicide, he tries to understand what’s going on in Shiki’s head:

There’s so much going on here, but let’s break it down line by line.

What was the point of this? What did Shiki hope to gain?

We know from Shiki's POV that he wants to see what Akira would do when backed into a corner like this where he's sure to die if he keeps acting reckless. Shiki finds Akira interesting because Akira doesn't value his own life and would even readily throw it away just to defy Shiki. His suicidal behavior is completely irrational if you think about it, and even Shiki can't comprehend it, which is why he wants to see what Akira would do when forced to confront death with no way out.

But within the framework of Akira's characterization, his suicidal behavior makes perfect sense. He's willing to throw away his life because he's a nihilist who doesn't think there's any meaning to life (or death) and exists in a state of living just because. Those other Igra fighters who beg for their lives or run away from Shiki do so because they value their lives and want to live. Akira doesn't value his own life, which is why he's able to keep resisting Shiki even when Shiki threatens to kill him.

Could it be some kind of test?

Yes, it's a test. Shiki doesn't actually have any intention of killing Akira, but instead he wants to see how Akira would respond in this situation.

A test of what? His will to live?

Akira has a moment of self-awareness and realizes the concept of even having a will to live. Remember, in the opening narration of his POV, Akira couldn't find any reason to live, and the only reason he was still alive is because he also couldn't find any reason to die. At the start of the game, Akira didn't have a will to live. There was nothing in life he cherished, nothing he wanted to strive toward, and he couldn't find any meaning or purpose in his existence. Even fighting didn't make him feel fulfilled in life.

But now Akira realizes he might actually have a will to live, and it's because Shiki is making him confront the inevitability of his own death. Akira's nihilistic mindset starts to crack as he realizes he might not be so apathetic toward dying after all.

Or did Shiki merely enjoy watching his prey struggle in the face of death?

Akira finds Shiki's behavior incomprehensible the same way Shiki finds Akira's behavior incomprehensible. On Shiki's end, he doesn’t understand why Akira acts so suicidal and fearless. On Akira's end, he doesn't understand why Shiki wants to see him struggle instead of killing him outright. They both make each other act in a way they normally wouldn't (Shiki wouldn't normally let his prey live, and Akira normally wouldn't act so self-willed), but that just shows how much they're affecting each other.

Struggle in the face of death…

This line repeats the last few words from the previous line for added emphasis. The theme of struggling in the face of death is one that's been explored and touched upon throughout the common route (especially with Akira’s desire/anticipation in facing death), and we finally see it culminate in this moment where Akira is forced to make a choice between ending his own life or letting Shiki kill him.

Was Akira… frightened?

Akira ponders if he's afraid of death. I feel like this is such a huge moment and a turning point for his character, because remember, at the start of the game, Akira didn't care about living or dying, and he couldn't differentiate between the two. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to struggle to live, nor what it would be like to live with a sense of purpose. It's only now that he starts to realize what it means to live—or die.

For a guy who doesn't care about the difference between life and death, and thinks that death is just "the cessation of function"—and that if he were to die in his sleep one day, he wouldn't even care—he's awfully picky about the way he wants to die. I'm making these references to the opening scene of Akira's POV to show the subtle shift in his mindset. Akira still doesn't know how to feel about death or whether he’s even afraid of it, but he knows, at the very least, that he wants to be the one to decide the circumstances of his own death.

Dying by Shiki's hand or biting his own tongue off or slitting his throat—what does it matter which way he dies when it leads to the same outcome in the end ("The heart stops, the lungs stop, the brain stops")? But it does matter to Akira now, because if he's going to die, he at least wants it to be by his own will and not someone else's.

For the first time in his life, Akira understands the consequences and significance of dying. If he dies, then he won't be able to find Keisuke and reconcile with him. If he dies, then that means he's submitting to Shiki's will. It's not just "the cessation of function" anymore. There are other meanings attached to death now. Not only that, he has a reason/purpose/goal for staying alive now—two of them, at least. I’m focusing on the point that Akira has two reasons for living at the moment because it’s going to come into play when we get to the conflict with Keisuke right before the kidnapping scene.

We went from this:

and this:

to this:

"Resolve" is such a fascinating word choice. I love its usage and implication here. At the start of the game, Akira had no goals or aspirations and didn't see any reason to strive for more in his life.

But now Akira has a resolve. A reason to live, even if it's for the sake of something petty like resisting Shiki. And the more he develops a resolve to live, the less nihilistic he becomes.

None of this is hidden in the subtext by the way; the game itself explicitly brings up the notion of a "will to live" in Akira's POV, so this is all a very deliberate and intended connection to Akira's nihilism. Akira’s resolve to resist Shiki and not submit to him overpowers whatever apathy he has toward life and death, and it’s this resolve that makes Akira cling to life during this moment instead of accepting his apparent fate.

Akira chooses to take the third option and fight back instead of letting Shiki kill him or making the decision to kill himself on Shiki's sword. In a surprising turn of events, Akira lives past the parry, but he gets pissed off when he realizes it's because Shiki chose to spare him, not because Akira's attack was actually strong or fast enough to stop Shiki from killing him. This hits a sore spot for Akira, because it shows that his life is still in the palm of Shiki's hand and he doesn't actually have the agency to decide his own fate or death.

Shiki asks Akira if he's "really that stupid" because what Akira did just now was incredibly reckless and devoid of all common sense or sense of self-preservation. But again, it’s because Akira has lived without purpose his whole life that he doesn’t really fear death or have a desperate desire to live, which is why he can act so reckless and suicidal. This is the first moment where Akira even recognizes that he has a will to live upon deep contemplation.

I want to point out that while Akira might instinctively run from danger/fight for his life in Igra battles (thus indicating that he does indeed have an inclination to live), the circumstances aren't the same here. Shiki isn't actively endangering Akira's life during this moment. He straight up tells Akira that he's not going to move a muscle, and that whatever happens to Akira will be of Akira's own volition. This puts Akira in a spot where he actually has to contemplate whether he wants to live or not, and if he truly doesn't have a will to live, then he should have no problem slitting his throat on Shiki's sword.

Akira eventually comes to the conclusion that while he might not have a strong desire to live, he does, at least, have a strong desire to disobey Shiki. Akira wants to live, but it’s not because he fears death, which I feel is an important distinction to make. He wants to live because the other alternative (dying) would mean submitting to Shiki, since Shiki’s the whole reason why he’s in this life-or-death situation in the first place.

There’s a lot of power play going on here but hopefully I’ve managed to explain the intricacies of their dynamic during this scene.

Now, if Shiki actually had any intention of killing Akira, even the slightest bit, Akira would've been dead here. Shiki thinks it's foolish of Akira to act so stubborn and suicidal for the sake of his pride, but he also can't help but find that part of him intriguing, which is why he lets Akira live in the first place.

Shiki's next words are: "You're weak. You have nothing. You'll never win." To me, this sounds more like Shiki projecting his own insecurities onto Akira, especially since we know from Akira's POV that Akira doesn't care about being weak or losing; he just doesn't want to submit to Shiki. Besides, if Shiki really felt that Akira was worthless, he would've killed him by now. (And honestly Shiki's talking shit just to talk shit and give Akira some more fuel for his anger.)

Akira knew exactly what Shiki meant. He wasn’t even worth killing. Something inside him snapped.

The way Shiki doesn't even bother to finish Akira off is such a devastating blow to his pride, and Akira thinks that Shiki is looking down on him (although, unbeknownst to him, Shiki is actually letting him live because he acknowledges Akira’s spirit and resistance). Regardless, Akira is so humiliated, frustrated, and confused that he just wants to lash out against Shiki. He throws his knife away before attacking Shiki—another reckless and seemingly suicidal act, but again, it just shows how much Akira values his pride and dignity over his life.

Shiki spares Akira, and then leaves him with these words: "Don't ever show me fear again."

Hopefully I’ve explained enough about Shiki’s character at this point to make it clear that he has a huge, huge complex about fear. He looks down on those who succumb to fear because he thinks it’s a display of weakness, but he also hates that he’s vulnerable to feeling fear himself.

Here Shiki specifically tells Akira not to show him fear again because he acknowledges Akira’s fearlessness. Remember Shiki’s words when he had his sword pointed at Akira’s throat? “Or are you afraid of death? Then fight back, in whatever pitiful way you can.” He was testing to see if Akira would be able to overcome his fear (of death, of Shiki)—and Akira passed that test with flying colors.

And again, it's not that Akira doesn't experience fear, but that he's still able to fight back in spite of it. That's what Shiki is acknowledging. His warning to Akira to "never show him fear again" is basically him encouraging Akira to keep up that fearless and defiant side of him, because he likes that Akira doesn't succumb to fear.

(And then my Shikiaki heart explodes because I think there's something strangely romantic about the way Shiki unconditionally accepts Akira's traits and likes him for who he is, flaws and all. Shiki's route in particular focuses on building upon Akira's pre-existing traits and developing his character through that.)

Akira is left with confusion, not just at Shiki’s behavior, but his own. He has the self-awareness to realize that he acted in a way he normally wouldn’t.

It was the first time he’d ever been so angry, and his inability to control himself was every bit as frustrating as Shiki’s bizarre behavior.

This emotional reaction is completely unprecedented for Akira, who is normally so calm and composed during fights. But the fact that Akira is behaving irrationally here is just proof of how much Shiki is affecting him. Like the game characterizes Akira as this incredibly stoic, apathetic, untouchable, and emotionally closed off dude, and then you see him losing his shit with Shiki because Shiki is just able to get under his skin so easily and pull a reaction out of him. To me, that just shows that Shiki and Akira actually do have chemistry, because they’re able to make each other experience emotions on such a visceral level.

You know the saying, "the opposite of love isn't hate, it's apathy"? Yeah that's basically what's going on here. Shiki and Akira's whole dynamic at this point in the route revolves around them having these extremely intense, negative feelings toward each other, but the important point is that these feelings are intense. And their feelings only get more messy and complicated once they start having sex and seeing the more vulnerable sides of each other.

But even once their feelings shift away from animosity, the intensity is still there; their emotions just lean into something more ambiguous. (I say ambiguous because textually, the game never defines what those feelings are, but subtextually, it’s pretty obvious that those feelings are romantic in nature.)

Now, even though Akira realizes that this impulsive reaction was atypical of him, I don’t think this was a case of OOC-ness. First of all, the text itself goes out of its way to point out to the reader that Akira’s decision to cast away his knife and charge at Shiki without a weapon was unlike him, so it’s pretty obvious this isn’t a case of unintentional OOC writing, and it isn’t an oversight on the writer’s part. We are supposed to understand that Akira’s irrational behavior here is a sign of how much Shiki is affecting him, getting on his nerves, and making him experience emotions on a level that he’s never experienced before. It’s a moment of character progression if anything.

Second of all, we’ve already been shown at the beginning of the game how Akira has a general dislike toward authority figures. He’s disillusioned with the CFC government and all the corruption in it, he acts rebellious when dealing with the police and their injustice, and he even gives Emma and Gwen a bit of attitude during the visitation scene. And now you have Shiki, quite possibly the biggest bastard (I say this lovingly) when it comes to being domineering and controlling. Not only that, but while Akira looks down on the police and doesn't see them as much of a threat even when he was detained (you can tell based on the way he describes the officers/detective in his POV with an air of indifference), with Shiki, Akira begrudgingly acknowledges Shiki's strength and knows that Shiki outclasses him in pretty much every way.

This feeling of inferiority contributes to Akira's frustration, and when you pair that with Shiki's domineering attitude and the fact that Akira hates being subjugated, well, it makes a lot of sense why even someone as normally reserved as Akira would lash out as aggressively as he did. And this is after being dragged and pushed around by Shiki, having to deal with Shiki's shenanigans, being forced to confront his own nihilistic beliefs, and having his pride and dignity stomped to the ground. It makes sense that Akira's emotions and composure would go haywire after all that.

My point is: Akira's characterization is still consistent and in line with the traits we've seen from him since the start of the game.

Now, do I think there could have been more buildup and development prior to this scene and Akira's loss of temper? Yes. The biggest issues with Shiki’s route are the pacing and the lack of screen time between the two, but I feel like the former is also one that plagues every single route in the game, so I’m not going to criticize Shiki’s route specifically for that. It’s just that Shiki’s route suffers the most from this pacing issue because his relationship with Akira leans more toward the slow burn side, and the pacing in Togainu no Chi is… anything but slow, especially in the latter half when it rushes to introduce how Nano all fits into this.

But despite the pacing issues, I can see what the writer was trying to go for in terms of Shiki and Akira’s dynamic and their development, and I can appreciate the attempt, even if the execution is not all there.

Anyway, there's another part from Shiki's drama CD I want to analyze:

Shiki: What, is that all you can do? This will be just nice to bring up your desire to kill. Don't let me see that cowardly expression of yours again. [Narration] There's no reason why I said all these. This kind of person who only put on airs but is too weak, I can just kill him. But, I did not hesitate to allow him to appear again. [End narration]

After Shiki leaves, he tells himself that there’s no reason for why he spoke or acted the way he did with Akira. To put it bluntly: it’s a form of denial. He knows that it was uncharacteristic of him to not only let Akira live, but to also test Akira's will to live and watch Akira struggle against him, when normally he would just kill his prey and be done with it without sparing a second thought. Shiki claims that there's no meaning behind his actions, when there clearly is. He tries to convince himself that he can still kill Akira if he really wants to; he's just letting Akira live on a whim. Totally not because he's interested in Akira or anything…

Shiki's feelings after this exchange mirror Akira's own in that neither of them can understand their own irrational behaviors. I'm just gonna reiterate an earlier point that I stated in this meta because I feel like I already explained my thoughts there as succinctly as I could, and I don't feel like paraphrasing myself: "They both make each other act in a way they normally wouldn't (Shiki wouldn't normally let his prey live, and Akira normally wouldn't act so self-willed), but that just shows how much they're affecting each other."

And just like Akira, Shiki is aware of how strange his own behavior is, so it's not a case of unintentional OOC writing. The emotional intensity they experience with each other causes them to behave in a manner atypical of themselves, and this opens up their dynamic to the interpretation that they're more interested in each other than they let on.

Now let's look at how the manga frames this exact same scene:

Shiki, unsurprisingly, talks about fear and makes no secret of his disdain for those who either run away or cave into submission (“hanging down their heads in front of stronger persons”) when confronted with death. I feel like this generalizing statement is here to actually stand as a contrast to Akira and show that Shiki's words don't apply to him. Akira isn't running away from Shiki, and he's certainly not bowing his head and begging for mercy from him. (We know that Akira would rather die than do that).

This is further reinforced by Shiki's comment about Akira's resistance and his demand for Akira to "bark more," which, when you look past the dog metaphor, is a pretty clear statement of him telling Akira to fight back. Already this scene is setting up their dynamic to show how Akira is different from all the people Shiki has encountered before, and Akira's defiance is a trait that Shiki hasn't seen from anyone else in Toshima.

Shiki then asks Akira if he’s also started to feel fear toward death:

With his sword pointed at Akira, he’s essentially issuing Akira a challenge here: prove to me that my expectation of you being different is true and that you’re not like those other cowards. The fact that Shiki hasn’t decided to kill Akira yet is proof in itself that he has certain expectations for Akira that he wants Akira to fulfill. But if Akira does indeed succumb to his fear of death, then Shiki is going to kill him.

Wow, what do we have here… another moment of Shiki and Akira eye fucking each other. Their gazes are mirrored in these two panels—one of Akira’s eyes is covered by his hair, while Shiki’s other eye is cut off by the edge of the panel. Shiki’s eye is placed in a higher position than Akira’s on the page; a visual demonstration of the power imbalance between them, with Shiki being the one on top, literally and figuratively. Like I’m not fucking sorry for talking about their eyes so much; it’s one of my favorite tropes in manga and Shikiaki just gets it so right, especially since the act of them gazing into each other’s eyes is thematically relevant to the narrative and isn’t just there for the visuals.

“I don’t want you to decide it... for me.”

Akira condenses my entire analysis of the “Or are you afraid of death?” scene into one definitive sentence. Thank you, Akira.

Like just to reiterate, I’m showing these pages from the manga because they back up my interpretation of the scenes from the visual novel/drama CD. Akira doesn't say this line in the visual novel, but the thought process is there in his internal narration, and now the manga shows Akira explicitly saying that the reason he won't let himself die in this moment is because he doesn't want Shiki to have any influence in the way he dies. Even if Akira wanted to kill himself and end it all, he wouldn’t do it if it meant having to submit to Shiki.

And might I add, this takes place after the kidnapping scene in the manga. Akira has presumably lost the will to live after accidentally killing Keisuke. So there should be more reason for him to just end it all and kill himself with Shiki's sword, right? 

Except no. Akira glares at Shiki and then declares he's not going to let Shiki decide his death for him. He regains the will to live, even if it's just for this moment.

If the narrative frames Keisuke as being so close and important to Akira that Akira straight up loses the will to live after Keisuke dies, then what does it mean that Shiki is able to bring back Akira's will to live, and then even go on to inspire Akira to continue living during the tunnel scene, despite Akira questioning the purpose of his own existence after learning the origin of his blood?

That's a rhetorical question, but it's definitely a line of thinking I'm going to revisit later on in the meta.

Also, I absolutely do not think it’s a coincidence that the “What’s the matter?” text box is on a panel that features a close-up of Shiki’s eyes, and then the text box with Akira’s reply of, "I don't want you to decide it... for me," is on a panel where Akira’s eyes are framed as the main focus. The visual motif is undeniably there.

So to summarize all my thoughts regarding this underrated scene: Akira's nihilism and lack of purpose in life is what makes him act so fearless and defiant when confronting Shiki, but because of that, he also starts acting more self-willed and develops a will to live when Shiki backs him into a corner—not because he’s afraid of death, but because he doesn’t want to submit to Shiki.

Shiki lives with the singular purpose of surpassing the man who made him feel fear, but he also has a complex about fear, and when he meets someone like Akira who seems to be able to face death without fear in his eyes, Shiki is intrigued and wants to see more of where Akira's resilience stems from.

Additionally (and I’ll explain more about this once we get to the relevant scenes, but I’m just going to put my thoughts here for now), Akira becomes drawn to Shiki because Shiki lives with a strong sense of purpose—a trait that Akira himself lacks, and one that relates to the character arc that's been set up for him since the start of the game, the question of: "What could he hope to accomplish by staying alive? What was the difference between life and death, aside from the cessation of one’s bodily functions?”

Conversely, Shiki becomes drawn to Akira because Akira is apathetic toward living and doesn't succumb to fear even when forced to face death—a trait that Shiki himself lacks, and his character arc revolves around him learning to overcome his fear of Nano and accepting his “weakness.”

This sets up their potential attraction to each other, the whole "I can't get him out of my head" sentiment that eventually permeates their respective POVs. They’re drawn to each other because they see traits they aspire to have in the other person.

This is what I mean when I say their opposing philosophies inadvertently draw them to each other, and it's why I spent a good chunk of the previous part of this meta establishing the nihilism/existentialism connection between Akira and Shiki. The way Akira's nihilism ties back so neatly into his dynamic with Shiki is what makes me love Shiki's route so much. I truly get the sense that Akira is his own character in Shiki's route because the writing takes into consideration how Akira's nihilism would influence his characterization, from the way he talks, to the way he acts, to the way he thinks. The writing in Shiki's route actually explores how Akira's nihilism would affect and permeate every aspect of his character, and we see this take shape in the form of Akira's fearlessness.

The way Shiki constantly pushes Akira to act more willfully, thereby making him grow out of his nihilistic mindset, is what really makes the Shikiaki dynamic work for me. Shiki's desire to see Akira struggle—for reasons related to his own backstory and characterization—is what spurs Akira's character development, and that's what makes their interactions feel so organic. It feels like the characters are acting on their own accord, rather than the narrative making them act a certain way in order to push the plot forward/advance the romance, because their actions have been contextualized by their backstories and motivations (or lack thereof), and we see how they directly influence and encourage each other’s character growths through said actions.

Akira is the type of person to "go with the flow" and not exactly care about where life takes him, so it's interesting to see how he exhibits so much agency when it comes to defying Shiki and obeying his own will. It’s important that Akira develops a strong will to live, especially one where he follows his own path, because it’s the trajectory that his character arc is supposed to take, from being a nihilistic person who lives day to day with no purpose in life, to becoming someone who can appreciate life for what it is and make every action count.

---

Next part will include more analysis on some Shikiaki scenes from both the visual novel and the manga, with a manga-exclusive Shikiaki scene that I’m really excited to talk about. I’ve given up on predicting how many parts this meta is going to have though, because clearly I’m incapable of shutting up about Shikiaki and expressing my thoughts in a concise manner, so I’m just gonna fix the navigation as I update lol.

[nczaversnick]

Writblr Interview

Thanks for the tag @willtheweaver

Short stories, novels or poems?

I’m definitely a novel guy, both for reading and writing.

What genre do you prefer reading?

Definitely fantasy and mythology. But I often cross into sci fi and dystopians

What genre do you prefer writing?

I am honestly not sure how to answer this, given that I’ve done almost nothing but work on one project for over a decade

Are you a planner or a write as I go kind of person?

I start out with an outline but when I get down to the scenes I like to wait and see what happens then adjust my plans accordingly

What music do you listen to while writing?

I have playlists for some characters but on the whole I pretty much just have one playlist with all of my music on it that I hit shuffle on every time.

Favorite books/movies?

Oh cmon we’ll be here all day. I grew up on pretty much everything made by Jim Henson or Mel Brooks and I listen to audiobooks 40 hours a week at my factory job. I burn through a lot of material XD8 to summarize my favorite movie is The Princess Bride, and my favorite book is The False Prince by Jennifer A. Nielsen

Any current WIPs?

For the most part just Project Gemini.

Fandomverse is an rp chain, and I mostly do art for this not so much writing snippets

Elemental High is an idea I’ve been toying with. it’s basically Project Gemini, if it were a Disney Channel series. I think it’d be super interesting to see how I as a writer could tell the same story through a completely different lense/ how would the story change if I changed its intended audience?

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you what would your standard outfit be?

Lucky for all of you, I did make a cartoon me. The color would change based on what color my hair is

Create a character description of yourself:

If I thought anybody in an orthodontics factory was about to be isekaied or find a weird portal into another dimension it was this guy. He was at least 20 years younger than everyone else in the building and, in a lot of cases, twice that. But despite being super easy to spot in a crowd, he never really says much without prompting. Still, as loud as he is in a visual sense, he never seems entirely here. Like the voices in his head are more interesting than anything going on around him. Dude fucking lights up if you mention pizza though.

Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing?

Not consciously no. People will say Quinn is based off my enby stoner best friend but from my point of view, I don’t know many enby stoners who aren’t like Quinn. But as a whole I like to let the characters tell me who they are. Any resemblance to someone real or imagined is purely coincidental.

Are you kill happy with your characters?

Rachelle, my partner for Project Gemini, would say yes. I have elected not to comment

Coffee or Tea while writing?

Hate to be the odd one out here but an ice cold Dr. Pepper is what I go for

Slow or fast writer?

If I can get a glove going I can write badly pretty fast. But overall, I’m 13 years into the only real project I’ve ever had and I’m still not done with book 1

Where/who/what do you draw inspiration from?

It helps for me to keep consuming new stories but honestly, the best inspiration comes from the interactions about my work from all of you out there. Unmatched. (Shoutout to @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet and @the-letterbox-archives for giving me so much)

If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?

Probably a librarian of some kind, just like I’m trying to do in real life. But I’m way to exhausted and disabled for that adventuring crap XD8

Most fav book cliche:

Oh I don’t know how to describe it. When the protagonist is a young boy without a father and they find a father figure/mentor/bodyguard. I eat that shit up and I don’t see it very often. [examples would be Sage and Mott from the Ascendance Trilogy/series by Jennifer A Nielsen and Matt and Tam Lin in The House of the Scorpion by Nancy Farmer

Least favorite cliche:

I really hate it when a main character (regardless of gender) is passive. It’s just so not fun to read about someone who never takes action in their situations.

Fav scene to write?

Almost any of Cas and Adrian’s interactions. I adore their dynamics

Reason for writing?

Because I’ve got shit inside my head and it’s not doing any good in there so I might as well get it out here.

Tagging: @honeybewrites @wyked-ao3 @kittrrrr @zackprincebooks @theverumproject @the-golden-comet @fractured-shield @poppycat-writes @illarian-rambling @finickyfelix @kuebiko-writing @yourpenpaldee @the-letterbox-archives @moltenwrites @davycoquette @drchenquill @leahnardo-da-veggie +open tag

[littletrannyfox]

I love yttd, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes it makes me question what I am watching. Because the Safalin scene where Sara has been basically mind broken, and the scene with Miley right after Joe dies, is such a sensual things, that without context, you could read it as sensual stuff; only for it to very obviously not be since the other character in both scenes, being the teen girl.

TLDR; the scenes with Miley and Safalin are so odd.

Love ‘em anyways.

I’m just gonna play devils advocate and say that Sara is legal in Japan (and a majority of places [although I live in a place where it’s 18+])

but yeah, it does feel kinda weird with the context of the scenes, the Miley scene after Joe dies and the Safalin scene after the mind wipe feels too sensual for the context

I can kinda get it with Miley, because she’s a sadistic bitch and she’s probably doing it intentionally just to mess with Sara more

but Safalin is different, I always felt she never wanted to be involved in the game to begin with, and that’s why she was okay with offering help even when she had no reason or motivation to (like explaining the doll maker) so to have her go randomly to “You’re like a toy to me” feels like whiplash, although I’ve seen enough visual novel-esque games to know that if someone’s eyes or mouth changes, they probably have DID or some other split personality

id still kill to be in her situation but id also ask keiji to punch and break my ribs so im probably not the best judge in this situation

[adamwatchesmovies]

Pinocchio's Christmas (1980)

Pinocchio’s Christmas takes Carlo Collodi's 1883 novel and gives it a holiday twist. The results work surprisingly well. Though the songs are lousy and the animation brings up certain issues I’d never even thought of before, its short running time, combined with the good-natured story and heartwarming message allow it to squeak by and make it worth watching… if you happen upon it playing on TV.

When poor woodcarver Geppetto (voiced by George S. Irving) sculpted a wooden puppet from a log, he never expected it to come to life. Despite his best efforts, "Pinocchio” (voiced by Todd Porter) gets himself into all sorts of trouble as the Christmas season draws near.

Pinocchio’s story naturally ties itself to Christmas. He's a toy, brought to life through a miracle, he needs to learn to differentiate right from wrong, etc. Here, Geppetto wants to buy a Christmas present for his wooden son and Pinocchio wants to reciprocate. Led astray by The Fox and The Cat (Allen Swift and Pat Bright) Pinocchio goes on the same sort of adventures as he did in the novel: dismissing the Talking Cricket (Bob McFadden) that wants to give him advice, working in a puppet theater owned by Maestro Fire-Eater (Alan King), skipping school to earn money in a way that’s way too easy to be true, etc. Meanwhile, the fairy Lady Azura (Diane Leslie) watches from a distance. If finding your pops a great gift for December 25th isn’t the mark of being a good boy, I don’t know what is. It may even even be enough to earn Pinocchio the right to become a REAL boy! The solution to Pinocchio’s dilemma is a good one, particularly for little kids, who can’t exactly go to the store and buy their parents something nice.

Though the stop-motion animation is fine for a TV movie of the early 80s (really, it’s much more reminiscent of something you would’ve seen in the 60s), I’m not sure how well-suited this visual choice is for a Pinocchio story. See, Pinocchio is a puppet, and so is everyone else. He stands apart from the other characters if you look at his elbows and knees but it’s an odd effect. The initial knee-jerk reaction you have could've been reduced if everyone but the protagonist had received sewn hair instead of painted hair, or some other visual cue that they’re real and he’s not. Geppetto’s design is particularly distracting because he has those lines running down the sides of his mouth like a ventriloquist dummy. In certain scenes, he looks faker than his artificial son does!

Any issues the film might have are specks of dust compared to the dreadful songs. The same words are rhymed over and over, which makes them easy to sing along with and memorable but these earworms are the kind that will dig into your skull and start taking big chunks out of your brain. I’ll take the Ninja Turtles’ rendition of 12 Days of Christmas a dozen times if I never have to hear Pinocchio singing Dancin’ or The Fox and The Cat telling me all about It’s the Truth again.

The ending of Pinocchio’s Christmas seems to imply that it could fit somewhere in The New Adventures of Pinocchio series but I’d bet a whole money tree that the continuity wouldn’t line up, particularly with the “love interest” introduced for the protagonist. Nonetheless, if you enjoyed the series (maybe you caught it when it originally aired during the '60s or on syndication) it’s worth checking out as a companion piece. For the rest, I can also give this film/TV special a mild recommendation. Despite the awful soundtrack, the kindhearted message at its core is nice and the plot is occasionally clever. (On VHS, December 19, 2021)

[libraryofbronze]

Erotic Writing Commissions Open. BDSM, Bondage, Noncon fantasies of all kinds.

About me

I’ve been writing for twenty years and delivering high quality erotic content for about fourteen. My name’s Bronze and it’s a pleasure to meet you. I write erotica because I like it. Because I feel like it’s a good way to express yourself and because I don’t think it’s anything to be ashamed of. 

I write dark erotica because that’s what I enjoy. Noncon, BDSM, dubcon, humiliation and blackmail are all things that I’ve delivered on in the past for my clients. My specific focus is all things dark, and I’m not afraid to show tears, reluctance, and even pain.  

I guarantee no judgement, whatever you might ask me to do. I understand the difference between fantasy and reality. 

My History 

I’ve been a writer for twenty years. In that time, I’ve written a six year long web novel which enjoyed hundreds of readers per chapter. I’ve helped to write two visual novels, one NSFW and one SFW. I’ve been hired to do writing work for a classic-style video game, been hired to write and edit erotic audio scripts and have published numerous smashwords novels 

What I can write

My focus is on bondage, BDSM, humiliation, slavery, plot-driven, character driven, toys, reluctance, blackmail, noncon and especially degradation! I don’t shy away from dark or messed up fantasies as long as they stay fantasies, and I 100% don’t judge. I’ve done work in fantasy, sci-fi and contemporary settings.

I’ve worked on numerous stories ranging from short snippets of around 1000 words all the way to 70K word NSFW web novels. (included in the links section) 

I have never left a client unsatisfied. I have never delivered late. My work is high quality and I am confident in it. I have to be. This isn’t just a hobby - commissioned writing is how I make my living! 

So when I say to you that I can bring your fantasy to life? I’m not bullshitting and I’m not playing with words. I’m good enough at this to use it to pay the rent. 

Want proof? I’ll include links to a series of sample stories at the bottom of this post. 

What I won’t write. 

Underage of any kind. I won’t write snuff or outright gore (though, pain, body modification, rough sex, and violence is fine.) 

I can’t write scat - no judgement, I just don’t get it enough to make it sexy. I won’t write bestiality (but will happily write furry.) 

And that’s pretty much it. If you have something you’re not sure about, feel free to send me a chat message. I’ll be more than happy to answer. 

Timeframe and Rates 

I do orders in batches and that means that for an order of 6000+ words, you should expect to wait a maximum of about 4 weeks. I’ll try to deliver before that and I often do, but as I said, this is my living so I can’t really just do one commission at a time if I wanna pay the bills. 

My rate is £0.04 Great British Pounds per word, delivered via paypal. Half before work is started and half on delivery. For that price, you get the story, you get revisions, free edits, and also drafting and polishing. Basically, the whole works. 

Payment can be done via either paypal link or via invoice to your email depending on whether you want a record or not. 

Delivery

The default method of delivery is via a google doc link to your story, which you will be able to copy paste and do what you want with. If you prefer another method - email attachment PDF, what have you, let me know and I’ll be happy to accommodate you. Your story will not be publicly posted without permission, but if you want me to post it to my site or to reddit - credited to you as client - feel free to let me know. I’m always happy to expand my portfolio that way.

Previous Work

The Curious Case of Richard Gearheart https://bronzeplacewriter.wordpress.com/the-curious-case-of-richard-gearheart-index/ Web novel. 70K words in 7 chapters. Noncon, bondage, humiliation, femsub, maledom. Plot-driven. 

Free-Use Vacation https://bronzeplacewriter.wordpress.com/free-use-vacation/ Modern, Free-use, embarrassment, slight bondage. It Started With A Game Of D&D https://bronzeplacewriter.wordpress.com/it-started-with-a-game-of-dd/

Modern, Fantasy, D&D, Consensual, Bondage. 

An Otome Villainess’ Cruel Salvation: 

Single chapter work. BDSM, Bondage, Humiliation, Dubcon, Fantasy world. The Mystic and the Unfortunate Thief. https://bronzeplacewriter.wordpress.com/the-mystic-and-the-unfortunate-thief-index/ Fantasy. Noncon, dubcon, humiliation, time-stop. The Dog Days of Samantha Carter https://bronzeplacewriter.wordpress.com/the-dog-days-of-samantha-carter/ Noncon, Corruption, Drug-Use, Humiliation, Bitch-suit,. The Slave-Girl of Celentium https://bronzeplacewriter.wordpress.com/slave-girl-index/ Fantasy, Not-Rome-I-Swear, Slavery, slave-training, bondage, noncon, corruption. 

Testimonials

"I had a great time with the whole commission process. Bronze was very responsive and really helped fleshing out my ideas for the story. Very happy with the end result."

‘’Have a story stuck in your head and you need someone to snatch the words from your head and put it down onto a Word document? You won't find someone better than BronzePlaceWriter to do it for you. Of all the writers I've commissioned, no one has been more enthusiastic about bring my ideas to life than BronzePlaceWriter. None have cared about fleshing out the ideas I have or pointing out improvements besides BronzePlaceWriter who also possesses a truly stunning range of content that can be written. Have an idea for dark erotic between two co-workers? An epic fantasy story involving a taboo relationship? Want a story involving superheroes? BronzePlaceWriter has you covered. And yeah, the erotic content is amazing.’’

Other Links 

My smashwords books can be found here: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/BronzePlaceWriter3993

My website can be found here: https://bronzeplacewriter.wordpress.com/

My tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/libraryofbronze

My BlueSky: https://bsky.app/profile/bronzeplacewriter.bsky.social My CHYOA backup archive: https://chyoa.com/user/BronzePlaceWriter 

[defira85]

CHECKING IN FOR MAY ACHIEVEMENTS 

Wrote 35k+ fic for Touchstarved including a 20k fic with @sithrightsactivist (No I’m not posting it yet. We only have a demo. Two of the LIs don’t even appear in the demo. I’m sure everything will be proven incredibly OOC and I can’t bear that shame right now. Did that stop me from writing those two LIs? No it did not) 

Wrote SOME swtor stuff. Not a lot. But it’s a start. I’m not gonna jinx myself and say I can get a chapter written but it’s progress

Wrote the full script drafts for the first 3 chapters of the visual novel idea I started toying with years ago. It’s about 20-25k worth of stuff, which doesn’t seem like much but they’re scripts so it’s like. Animation directions and art file notes and links to the music files.

I did write some eso fic but I don’t know how much cause I didn’t keep track of what I wrote in May and what I wrote earlier

I also booked a psych appointment today for the first time in hrrrr 12 years? I think, and yes that probably should go in the June achievements but shhhh  

[docholligay]

The House in Fata Morgana: Intro

I have never reviewed a visual novel before, but @iscahwynn made me a very generous offer and a long line of patience, knowing that we are trying something very new. To that end: Please don’t spoil me for the game at all! If you are reading this, I have only gotten through the part written above, and I don’t want to be corrected, even if I’m wrong, even if I’ve missed something, i don’t want to have anything confirmed or denied, and I don’t need any trigger warnings or extraneous explanation. Iscah would like my pure, naive experience of the game. Thank you!

So i’m going into this game, and i have no idea what to expect. I am not very visual novel savvy: i have played a hardful of them, but not enough to say that I know them well. Largely, I have assumed that they would never be more for me than “fun,” which is a perfectly fine place to exist, but not on the scale of where I would put my favorite pieces of media. 

I have no idea where this visual novel is going to come down, but I will say in the intro, it has my attention. 

Before I go any further, I want to say I do have one assumption going into it, based on my knowledge. Fata Morgana. A fata morgana is an illusion, often specifically a castle upside down, generally above water, and it is a natural phenomenon, but I deeply suspect that ‘natural’ has nothing to do with anything ehere, and so I focus instead on the qualities of illusion, specifically illusion of nobility, and also that fata morgana is based on Morgan LeFay, the evil fairy-sort-of-depending-on-the-version queen that opposes King Arthur. So the DESTRUCTION of nobility, of good faith, of honor, of all that, is bound up in that idea. So, I don’t know jack or shit about visual novels, but I do know about fatas morgana.

First thing I see when I open the game is this: 

Now, we love a strong disclaimer. I love potentially disturbing content, and I love that people are so stupid In These Times that you have to specifically say, 'Just because I wrote

a character doing a bad thing does not mean I necessarily believe in bad things.’ Because anything where you say ‘You may have to excuse me’ usually means that we are going to push things, this is not going to be an easy romper room kind of game, that we are going to toy with the edge. And I love that! I am grown, and I want grown games. 

The second thing i see is this: 

And I think, “Oh, this game is going to try and scare me. Cool. I’m in.” And immediately put on my headphones. 

I don’t yet know if the game is in fact going to try and scare me, but I will say that the sound layering in this game so far is absolutely fantastic, the song that they sing in the intro I can’t pick out the language of, and that may just be a failing on my part, but it adds to the mystery for me, I, like the Master, have no idea where we’ve come from or where we’re going. I really love, personally, that the game is not voice acted, as I have discovered that tends to make visual novels more immersive for me, versus how voice acting takes me out of the moment. I think i’m very much in the minority there, and that’s fine, but I found myself in the moment, reading the story rather than having to hear it. 

So we are the ones that are carried across time, back to the house again and again, the ones ‘crucified’ and now that was an intersting choice to me, because obviously this game is dabbling in some Christian and I think specifically Catholic garb, but crucifixion, is, historically, punishment for a crime. So what is it that we’ve committed, here? What can it be that we are not even allowed to die, but God brings us back again and again? 

Speaking of which, i find it really interesting the way that “You”--the story is mostly told in second person--is capitalized, like the name of God. Is that a mistake in the translation (again, PLEASE do not tell me) or is that meanignful and I’m meant to be paying attention to it? What is the master of the house but a little god?

 Having just read Rebecca, I’m thinking a lot about masters and servants and strong masters and strong servants, and it does strike me particularly in that vein when she says “If you cannot remember who you are, then who am I to serve?*” because if he cannot be master than she must become it, right? She is our only guide throughout all this, she is the one who leads us down the darkened hallway, and we don’t even know her name. But she holds all the power. 

I do think I might have fucked up the very first choice because I didn’t realize it was a choice! The game so far has some really glorious background and text styling, but because of it I had no clue what I was actually looking at and I didn’t say good morning. I doubt that has fucked the whole game but it frustrated me ahaha. But now I know what it looks like and I think I can make better choices. 

I am so glad they cleared up the mirror thing instantly, they saw the hole and closed it up, my very first idea was to go look in a mirror and see what I look like, who I am. I love that it is totally lost to us, we aren’t allowed to deal hint at who we might be. I suppose the only indicator given is that we are a man, since Master is used, instead of Miss or Mistress or Madam, depending on one’s leanings. But the game could be taking the assertion that the masculine form is neutral, as with actor and aviator and such things, no matter how much I hate it. I could be wrong here. 

In general, the story’s hook is absolutely working for me. I am so excited to move onto the door and see what the hell it is that has gone on in this house, utterly devoid of love or light or life. 

*I broadly think that line is correct. However, my one complaint with the game is it absolutely will not run windowed so I can reference it while writing this. Very very annoying. 

[thebakunawa]

Errant Kingdom Sucked (Not Worth Buying) 2 out of 5 Game

Okay I need to vent about Errant Kingdom because I LOVED the game when it first came out. But with all the delays and the fact they worked on another game and practically left this and neglected it shows in the game itself. I played a Knight (Maja romance) and I am composing myself as I write this because no words can explain the abysmal disappointment I have in this game. I also have some bones to pick with When the Night Comes so I might write that out later.

So I’ll separate them into chunks:

Story: It felt rushed and at the beginning you could tell they were building it up to something but there was no payoff

The assassination attempt on the rulers of the Kingdom had no bearing later down the game. It’s as if everyone forgot that it happened in the first place.

The cult mentioned or hinted at the start. It was a red herring they failed to capitalize in their writing.

After meeting the King and Queen you’re sent off to a frozen place to play Ambassador. This makes no sense if you don’t play Ambassador and having the Knight just seem so amazing and smooth feels out of character if you don’t headcanon your character this way.

There was no build-up to the other characters accepting you. If anything the story feels as if they had no choice but to accept you into their fold. It made no sense that they would ride or die for you (much less romance you) and the ending had no build up.

There was no hints throughout the game that Erik would be crowned King. The game had to outright point that he was going to be the chosen one. Again that would have worked if there were hints or the story was being angled that way. But no, the villain straight up had to say it.

The build up of working together to even defeat the bad guy had no fucking sense. What do you mean your friends were able to convince their respective factions (assassins and fae) to help you out? What emotional attachment do I have to people I’ve never met in my route and why would they risk their necks to help me?

Speaking of villains, you have no idea why Novoth is weakened or why the King and Queen have any motivation outside of being greedy people. I know you shouldn’t justify all your villains but at least give them a little depth!

The ending was a joke, it felt like a big “Avengers! Assemble!” moment that wasn’t earned at all.

Choices

Your choices throughout the story feel like they have no bearing whatsoever. During the first version of the game there were options on peaceful choices, or more violent options. There was a system supposedly for your character but it was scrapped and now we have a visual novel and less of a choose your own story (which I would have adjusted my expectations if the game marketed itself as such)

Your choices have no bearing whatsoever. You’re given a few options to kiss the character you romance or make a few witty remarks, but over all your choice as a character just feels useless at this point. Your agency is just an illusion and all you can do is let others take the lead. You’re less of an agent of a god and more of just some shiny new toy everyone bosses around.

Romance

I can not begin to stress the utter disappoint–the pain that this game has caused me.

Starting off, as a die-hard Maja romance when the game first came out I had so much hope they’d talk about her past relationship with Erik and exploring how a relationship between you and her and have a good heart to heart talk with the polyoption and the non-polyrelationship option.

What the game does is just FUCK YOU OVER. I feel disgusted genuinely because I didn’t choose a poly option. This was a route that I was going to take with another character I was going to create but the game outright states that Erik and Maja are still together at the end of the fight and even in the epilogue cards. Why the ever absolute sweet Andraste’s tits would you give the option to romance these 2 characters and give non-poly options with both when you’re going to say fuck it and basically still make them end up together. It feels awful and it feels disgusting as a player. The game basically went and said ah yeah fuck your romance and your choice.

This doesn’t even begin to stress how the relationships in this game lost development. You can feel from the first rendition of the game that there was going to be a build up. But now it just slaps on that you guys love each other and live happily ever after! There’s no reason, there’s no bonding, just a few kisses, flirting, and boom together. No talking no discussing just yeah hahah you and me baby <3

From a strong build up with an almost nonsensical continuation of a plot, to inconsistent writing of characters, romances that basically happen all of a sudden with almost no chemistry or conversation and creating characters and moments and expecting us to have an attachment when they literally never introduced us to them:

All in all, I give this game a solid 2 out of 5. (Points for the art work and the strong introduction the game had)

It had so much potential but the devs just squandered it. No apologies can be accepted especially because you can tell they just straight up abandoned this game. I know 2 people were working on this game during a past announcement and it’s not their fault. 2 people dedicated to a big game was sorely lacking and they decided to make “Call me under” and honestly whoever thought it was a good idea to work on both games and ruin Errant Kingdom I hope your food is cold.

But yeah that’s it.

This game is not worth it.

[bingos-buttons]

May I request a The Owner fictionkin board? Source is Don’t Toy With Me, a visual novel. Creepy dolls, sewing supplies, and gloved hands/ surgical masks are what I associate with this kin.

Here you go! :)

Requests are open!

[seradopts]

DECEMBER CHIMERA ( adopt )

INFORMATION - NOW CLOSED

notes:: the quote's an italian(?) proverb.he could be a lion king who's pondering over his own mortality and his small role in life, or he could just be this entertainer nicknamed 'king' who's very infatuated by his reflection in the mirror... either way i want to tug his tail and throw him off a rooftop that's for sure.

oh and his chibi form is batting away at a cat toy, that's a cat toy (or a reed wwww)

details i'd like to bring attention to are the eye (tattoo?) on his chest and the toof in his headshot hehe C: thanks for looking!!

♧ TERMS. ♣

The buyer has 24 hours to pay after I've sent them the invoice. If the payment is being made through Western Union, this can be discussed. After the payment has been confirmed, I'll send a note to the buyer with the un-watermarked, full resolution version[s].

I don't refund. Please credit me.

Minor edits are fine.

Commercial use includes the actual character art you bought. (v-tuber use, inclusion of art in books, webtoon / visual novel related stuff--all these go into commercial use. Please DM me for inquiries)

[therealr3ntz]

HIIIIIII I NOTICED UR PFP & THAT U WERE FOLLLOWING ME & I JUST WNATED TO SAY I LOVE DONT TOY WITH ME AND HUXLEY IS MY GFAV CHARACTER :DDDD sorry im super exited cause i never see any other Dont toy w me fans :)

YES FELLOW DONT TOY WITH ME FAN YO‼️‼️‼️

Don’t you with me is such an underrated visual novel and yes Huxley is such a good character GLAD 🗣️‼️