#also can we talk about how the first tag that comes up when you type 'venom s' is venom smut?

[gatsby-system-folks]

Venom would've been better as a wlw instead of an mlm change my mind

[yyuangss]

GIRL TALK ! ( STAR RAIL MEN )

SUMMARY ! march 7th finds out you like someone. and as your best friend, it’s only right that she has to give her input on whether or not she approves of him.

NOTES ! i was in the mood to write something but this was last minute and this was all i could come up with 🤺 may do a part two featuring other star rail men but we will see. part two of girl talk (gepard, dr. ratio, aventurine, and boothill)

TAGS ! reader is not the trailblazer. contains dan heng, caelus, sampo koski, jing yuan, and argenti. feelings are mutual on both ends.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . DAN HENG !

immediately tells you that she already had her suspicions. and now that you confirmed it, it makes her all that more excited. you having a crush on dan heng is just what she expected. she’ll go on and on about how you two would make a great couple because he opens up more to you. now she gets a little sneaky and begins to make up excuses whenever missions come around so that the two of you can go together. it’s her own way of being a mastermind. the more time you two spend together, the closer she is to seeing you and dan heng start dating. yes, march has dubbed herself as your personal wingwoman. so is the duty of being your best friend.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . CAELUS !

of course she finds it cute that you have a crush on caelus. and it all makes sense to her now. she constantly hears you and caelus making the same kind of jokes, watches you two play games together on your phones, and on rare occasions, she’ll find you rummaging through trash cans with caelus. though she doesn’t know why you’d go to such lengths and go through the trash cans with him. admitting your feelings for the newest trailblazer will only make march relentlessly tease you about it in the best way possible. so whenever caelus invites you to join him in whatever shenanigan he has planned for the day, she’ll send a quick wink your way.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . SAMPO KOSKI !

she’s mentally judging you. definitely finds this as a “to each their own” type of situation. out of everyone you guys have met, the one you have feelings for is sampo. march isn’t too fond of him despite how much he has helped them during their time in belobog. she does have a few doubts here and there, but if he’s currently the one who you’re interested in, she’ll go along with it. march has to observe the way he acts before making any big decisions like setting you two up. she can tell the feeling’s mutual by the overly flirtatious comments sent your way or gifts you receive by sampo when visiting belobog again. she’ll sometimes peek over your shoulder and see some messages coming in from him, asking when you’ll come back to see him. she could grow used to him so let her work her magic and you’ll be with him in no time.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . JING YUAN !

the general of the luofu is a tough decision. although she believes he’s a great choice considering his high rank and popularity, it’s also a bit of a downfall. she saw some heavy chemistry between you both back when the express was currently at the luofu. she didn’t have enough time to make some comments but she knew you’d end up having some sort of feelings towards him. she’s only worried about the cons that could come. like the fact jing yuan can become a busy man within seconds. would he make enough time for you? no, he needs to because someone like you deserves it. march refuses to let her best friend settle for anything less than what she’s worth. march can trust that you’ll be in good hands with jing yuan.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . ARGENTI !

it’s a very interesting choice in her opinion. though she understands why you’d end up gaining feelings towards him. it had to be that compliment he gave you the very first time the express met him. “a beauty that was sent by the goddess idrila herself for him to praise”. very poetical that it had the entire crew speechless for a few seconds. march hasn’t stopped bringing it up since that happened because you had never gotten that flustered before. she can only imagine all the other compliments argenti has sent your way when they’re not around. whenever you’re smiling at your phone a little too hard, thinking no one is watching, she’ll head over your way asking if your boyfriend’s the one making you all smiley. march doesn’t even need to be your wingwoman for this one. she knows the knight will handle it all on his own.

[ellieputellas]

can you write roommate!alexia smut

caught in the act | a. putellas x reader

— You catch your roommate Alexia touching herself to your photos.

tags: roommate!Alexia, barçaB!reader, smut, masturbation, mentions of fingering, mention of age gap, a bit of degradation and dirty talk, not proofread 🔞 wc: 2k+

Alexia hated having you as a roommate.

It wasn't because of the fact that you had a bad habit of putting off washing the dishes until the next morning; she learned to deal with it and wash them for you whenever it did bother her. It also wasn't because you were always watching Netflix past midnight, at full volume while she tried to get enough sleep for early morning training the next day, fully knowing the walls between your rooms were paper thin. She's learned to fall asleep to the sound of Brooklyn 99 or whatever American TV show you were addicted to at the time. It wasn’t even the fact that she’d have to set her alarm at least 30 minutes ahead of the usual time she’d wake up just so she could force you out of bed so you could both attend your respective training sessions on time.

Instead, she hated how oblivious and clueless you were to how she felt about you.

Just now, there you were in the living room watching a dumb show on Netflix as you simultaneously swiped on Bumble. She hated seeing you looking at other girls, or even getting all dolled up for dates with other girls.

She knew your type. You liked tall, fellow athletes with great style. She wondered why you never noticed her when she fit your type so well. She rolled her eyes at the sight of you fiddling with the dating app and just wanted to return to her room but you already noticed her presence.

"Hey, Alexia." You said calmly. “Come over here.”

She sighed. "Yeah?"

"What do you think about her?" You said as you chewed on the chips you were loudly snacking on. (That was another thing Alexia let you get away with — snacking everywhere and anywhere leading to a mild ant problem.)

Alexia sat beside you on the couch and leaned in to look at your phone. It was someone from Levante’s B team. Alexia frowned. She had to admit. This girl was undeniably hot with her tattoos and fit body but she knew she looked just as good as this player. If not that, she sure as hell was a better player. That should have been some merit to her.

"She’s okay..." It was all she could say to you. She didn’t want to come off as the jealous roommate.

"Really? I kinda think she's smoking hot." You said with a confused look. “She’s the hottest player I’ve played against on the pitch.”

Alexia rolled her eyes and wanted to make a snide comment but let it slide.

“She asked me out after we switched shirts after our match, and I smelled her shirt and it smelled good as fuck.” You shared, making Alexia roll her eyes again. “Plus, she’s taller than I am and you know how that’s my type… but our texts have been stale and boring as fuck.”

Alexia shrugged and tried to focus on the show you were shamelessly ignoring already. “Then just don’t go out with her.”

You sighed. “Yeah… but there is this rookie footballer I matched with on Bumble, she plays for…” You continued to tell Alexia about the other girls you were talking to but she just didn’t give a fuck.

She didn’t wanna know anything about the other girls you were seeing while she’s been into you for so long.

"Anyway, can you help me pick photos from my weekend trip with Emma? She's so great at taking photos that I feel like I have to make two separate posts on instagram just to include all of my hot photos." You said before giving your phone to Alexia. "Just swipe through them and heart all the photos you like."

As soon as she grabbed your phone, she felt her body heat up. The first photo of you was you in front of the pool with your arms up, laughing gleefully. You were wearing the tiniest bikini with a bra top just big enough to cover your nipples and that incredibly skimpy underwear.

All Alexia could think about was pushing them to the side and fucking you hard with her fingers.

Alexia blinked. "You're so...." She couldn't find the words. "Naked?"

You laughed at the older woman’s reaction. "That's all you could say?"

Alexia ignored you, completely fixated by the photos of you. Alexia liked the first photo and proceeded to swipe. The second photo was you with your back turned, exposing your ass. Alexia could feel her mouth salivate as the dirtiest thoughts entered her mind. She kept scrolling, admiring every curve and crevice of your body. She loved the way your boobs spilled over your bra and the way your thong rode up your ass and accentuated your perfect hips. She loved your collarbones but she loved the thought of marking them with her mouth more.

She was practically liking every photo, unable to think objectively of what works on Instagram or whatever. She loved seeing you this exposed.

"You never dress like this usually." Alexia commented, still going back and forth with your photos. She was pretending to be analytical with your photos but her mind was just filled with obscenities.

You huffed. “You only see me in a kit or here at home when I dress like a slob. You don’t know what I dress like.”

Alexia furrowed her eyebrows. “I’ve seen you get dressed up for dates. You’re not usually so…” She shook her head. “Whatever. I never would have imagined you’d like wearing something so tiny.”

Alexia had to swallow as her mouth had been watering at the sight of your photos. You chuckled, oblivious to your roommate's reaction. "Well, you would know that I actually do love tiny swimwear if only you went swimming with us more.”

Alexia took a mental note to say yes to every opportunity to see you in a skimpy bikini. "Still, you never post stuff like this. You only ever post game photos or food photos. This is just out of character for you.” She added on. "You must be posting to impress someone, huh?"

You furrowed your eyebrows and rolled your eyes at her. "I feel like I’m just more grown now. Like, grown enough to post more skin.” You explained. “Besides, can’t I post for myself?”

Wish you would post for me, Alexia thought.

You looked over at Alexia who was still looking through your photos. "God, what's taking you so long? Mesmerized by my tits?"

"You're so cocky." It was all Alexia could say as she blushed. She felt like it was so wrong to be thirsting over her younger roommate like this but she couldn’t help it. You were exactly what she wanted.

You chuckled. "I told you. Emma took really good photos of me! I know I look hot in those."

You looked through the photos Alexia liked and realized the only photos of you she didn't like were the ones where you were covered up. You stifled a chuckle. "Okay, I guess I should post these immediately since it would be so selfish of me to deprive the world of these photos any longer."

"So arrogant." Alexia scoffed under her breath but unbeknownst to you, it turned her on. She loved it when you got all confident. It made her want to praise you and degrade you at the same time. "I'm going back to my room to review some things for some brand deal. Text me if you wanna order food or cook for dinner later."

You absentmindedly nodded as you typed up the perfect Instagram caption and chose the perfect thirst-trap song to go with the Instagram post.

Alexia headed back in her room and immediately pulled out her iPad, refreshing her Instagram feed incessantly. "C'mon, c'mon..." She muttered under her breath. "Just post already."

Finally, your post popped up.

Alexia felt like she couldn't breathe as she was finally able to get a better look at them through the bigger screen. She was finally free to zoom in to your perfectly shaped tits without worrying you'd see. She bit her lip.

It was almost a built-in instinct or bodily response to her the way she immediately positioned herself in front of her iPad; she wasted no time. She propped the device on her bed, blasted a song loud enough to mask her noise, swiftly took off her bottoms, and eventually, guided her hands to feel her own slick with her fingers. She was soaked already just from seeing you.

"Fuck," She muttered as she began rubbing herself, looking at the photo of you on her device. She wished she could have a gigantic TV screen just so she could see more of you at a bigger scale. She wanted to be overwhelmed by the sight of you — to be consumed by your beauty.

She rubbed her clit in circles as she kept her eyes glued on the screen. She cursed again. She thought about your tits. She wondered how they'd feel in her hands. She wanted to feel the softness against her rough and imposing hands; she wanted to know if that kind of touch would make you whimper. She wondered what colors your nipples were and how they'd look and feel... and taste. She so badly wanted to push her tongue against them.

Her legs shivered as she imagined taking your breast in her mouth, sucking on it mercilessly as you moaned under her.

In reality, Alexia was alone in the darkness of her room — her tanned skin illuminated by the sole source of light from her device that blasted music to mask her grunts and the obscene sounds of her wetness.

But in her imagination, Alexia was in your room on top of you, sucking on your breasts as she positioned her knee against your core. In her imagination, you loved to beg and whine. So there you were, underneath her, squirming as she sucked on your nipple and used her hands to play with the other one. She just could tell you were the sensitive type and the idea of you almost teary-eyed due to sheer pleasure caused by her made her even wetter.

She opened her eyes once again to catch a glimpse of you in that one photo where you had a serious face as you slightly bent over. She groaned as she caught sight once again of the flesh of your boobs pressing against the fabric of your bikini. "Fucking whore." It escaped her mouth in a grunt.

In her imagination, you were dressed in the same skimpy bikini. She had your bra cups pushed to the side to grant her easy access to lick all over your boobs, leaving the occasional mark whenever she desired.

"Please, Alexia." She could practically hear your voice say it. "Fuck me now."

Alexia plunged her fingers into her cunt, causing her to grunt loudly as she pumped in and out of herself as mercilessly as she would have with you.

She was fixated on the thought of her fingers thrusting so hard in and out of you that your tits jiggled with every thrust. Alexia somehow felt you were the type to moan loudly, grab your own tits, and beg to fuck her deeper.

"Alexia! Fuck me!"

"You want me so bad, huh? You fucking slut?" She groaned under her breath, almost breathless and winded from how rough she was fucking herself. "I'll fuck you so hard, you'd go stupid."

"Alexia, harder! Please!" The imaginary voice in her brain told her. It felt so realistic

"Yeah?" She called out your name, almost in the form of an animalistic grunt. "You fucking want it harder? You a fucking slut for me?"

She increased the speed of her thrusting, causing her to moan loudly in succession. "Fuck," She said, followed by calling out your name. "Tell me who you belong to."

She pumped in and out of herself, causing her to convulse in the building pressure inside her. Her eyes were shut close but the photo of you in your bikini was permanently burned inside her mind.

"I belong to you!" Her imagination called out.

"Say my name then." She groaned.

"Alexia," It sounded so soft and gentle.

"Louder." She growled as she imagined that it was your pussy she was roughly thrusting into. Her legs shook uncontrollably as she felt herself approaching orgasm. “Say it.”

"Alexia?!" It was practically an exclamation. It felt so real that your voice echoed in her ears.

As Alexia opened her eyes, she was met by the sight of you standing at the door of her room with a shocked face. Almost immediately after, Alexia moaned out loud as her orgasm arrived.

It took half a second for her to realize that she wasn't imagining it anymore. You were there, standing and watching her fuck herself while her obnoxiously larged iPad displayed a photo of you.

"Oh shit." She was in trouble.

a/n: not proofread. part 2 anyone? (also thank u for ur requests!)

[megwritesriddles]

Heavenly Torture ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x F! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 11 - Teasing & Degradation. After Hogwarts, Reader and Neville end up working together at Noltie's Botanical Novelties. Reader soon discovers she holds an unexpected power over Neville, one she'll have fun exerting over him at her whim.

Tags: Teasing, Degradation, Oral sex (m receiving), Neediness, Begging, Virgin!Neville, Sub!Neville, Dom!Reader, Slytherin!Reader, Set post Battle of Hogwarts, Coworkers to lovers (??).

Word count: 4.8k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: I know I'm running a day behind right now, I'll try my best to catch up when I can (hopefully monday)!! Another day, another submissive pathetic man... lol!! Also why did this end up so long... all this backstory for what?? Why do I keep doing this?? Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Getting the job at Noltie’s Botanical Novelties, the garden shop on Diagon Alley, had been one of the most relieving moments of your life. Not only did you have an income secured, but they’d hired you despite you having been in Slytherin. It seems silly for you to have been worried about this, given that people are starting to heavily advocate against stereotyping based on houses, but that didn’t mean it had actually stopped happening. At the moment, Slytherins were quite radioactive. Less than a year out from the war, all Slytherins near your age were assumed to be Death Eaters who just escaped consequence based on their age. This, of course, was not true for most of you, and certainly not for you. You’d been on the right side from… well, perhaps not the start, it takes time to shake your upbringing, but probably from some time in the fifth year. However, most people only remembered you as a Slytherin, and that was a decidedly bad thing to be currently. You knew you should have made more appearances at Dumbledore’s Army meetings, but back then you were facing the same issue, avoiding the meetings because when you did go, people would be distrusting of you because of the colour of your tie. Now people barely remembered that you’d been a member at all. It was frustrating beyond belief, but you just had to keep going. 

The job at Noltie’s was an undoubted blessing, just a few years ago it would have been a no-brainer for you to get the job, given your expertise, but this year it had truly felt like it wouldn’t happen for you. When you’d gone in to pick up your uniform about a week before starting, Edward Noltie himself had confessed to having been a Slytherin himself in his school days. You wouldn’t have guessed it, the kookie old man certainly reminded you more of the types that come out of Hufflepuff, but you told yourself to stop stereotyping, you had learned its inaccuracies over and over by now. It amused you slightly how much he tried to separate himself from the Slytherin label, only claiming the identity in the past tense, while most Gryffindors were likely to wear their Gryffindor scarves until at least their 200s. You thanked him anyway for his understanding, emphasising once again that you’d had no ties to the Death Eaters. As you were leaving with the bag containing your uniform, he stopped you.

“We actually have another employee with us from your year group at Hogwarts, a very talented young man, instrumental in winning the war, we’re lucky to have him, really. Joined a few months ago,” Noltie chuckled. You smiled and nodded awkwardly over your shoulder. You knew exactly who he was referring to. 

There’d never really been any doubt in your mind that Noltie had been talking about Neville Longbottom, but the suspicion is confirmed immediately on your first day. You walked in, hair neatly up as was required (less for aesthetic reasons and more for safety against the various plants stocked that had a tendency to thrash), your uniform tailored to fit you perfectly, and saw him behind the counter. You had been dreading this moment since you realised you’d be working with him. You knew what he’d say to you, how he would call you brave for going against your house, how much he appreciated your efforts during the war, things like that, and you couldn’t be bothered to listen to it. You just wanted to stop thinking about the war, and all the things you’d had to do to survive, but it seemed too much to ask. You took a deep breath and approached him and he did just that. With a serious and sympathetic expression, he began to thank you and commend you. He stared quite intensely at you as he spoke, which made you admittedly uncomfortable, your eyes flickered around the store as he spoke. 

“We barely had any Slytherins in the D.A. and I know some people gave you a hard time about it, so I think it’s–” he continued in his solemn voice. You squirmed in discomfort and decided to cut him off. 

“Look, Longbottom, all the same to you, yeah? You’re a war hero and all that, so… that’s great, congratulations! Can you show me how the till works now?” you huffed. He blinked in surprise at your little outburst, before flushing slightly, clearly having realised he’d made you uncomfortable in some way, even if he’d only been trying to compliment you. 

“Sorry, err… yeah…” he cleared his throat, showing you over to the till on the counter at the back of the store. You walked in front of him toward it and when you turned back to face him, you saw his eyes flick up and his flush deepen a little. You realise with a start that he’d been looking at your ass as you walked. These uniform trousers really were tailored perfectly, so you were sure he’d gotten a good view. You just smiled to yourself and filed the information away for later as he started to explain the machine to you. 

The next few weeks go surprisingly well. Sure, you’re only working the till and shop floor rather than actually doing any research or fieldwork, but at least you’re in your desired field, and the work is quite easy. The shop is never terribly busy, and the people who do come in like to spend a while browsing and contemplating, meaning you get to tell them all you know about the plants they’re deciding between, which you find quite fun. Neville works mainly in the backroom, counting stock, moving boxes, and maintaining the plants that can’t be kept on the shop floor because they’re too dangerous or require certain temperature conditions. You help with inventory, letting him know what’s running low on the shelves and making notes of what needs to be ordered for Mr Noltie. Mostly, you’re out of each other’s ways, but that doesn’t mean you’re not highly aware of each other. 

You knew Neville had changed over the years, every girl who’d been at Hogwarts was aware of it. You remembered quiet nights while the D.A. had been hiding out in the Room of Requirement, when a bunch of the girls would get together for some girl talk, trying hard to feel a sense of normalcy. Lavender Brown’s idea, which initially seemed silly, actually raised spirits quite a lot. You joined in, even though people were still rather wary of you, being one of only two Slytherins in the room, you mainly listened because of this. The girls huddled together in one corner of the room, while the boys chatted about who knows what in the other, and gossiped about the boys. There was hardly time for romance in the conditions you were in, which is perhaps why so much of it was happening, forced to stay together in one big room and fearing for your lives, you had overheard a lot you wish you never had. Neville ended up being the subject of a few of these conversations. He had changed a lot, becoming taller, broader and more handsome. He had also taken the role of the leader of the D.A., and many of the girls admitted that they quite liked the authoritative voice he used, which made everyone tease and giggle. He was nothing like the timid little boy he’d been for the first few years at Hogwarts, he was a man now, a strong, handsome man. However, no one ever reported any sort of action with him like they did with the other boys. At the time, he became sort of untouchable, which was odd considering he was Neville Longbottom.

These days, he was looking even better. His face was no longer so marred by the constant scrunch of stress as it had been during the war. He’d grown out his hair a little, rather than keeping it quite as short as he had during the war. He overall looked healthier, and even more muscular now that he was able to eat properly, his skin looking less pale and dull. Days of moving and stacking boxes in the backroom gave you plenty of time to subtly watch his muscles. He really was handsome now, though he didn’t seem to even realise this himself. Occasionally, when he’d be bringing stock out front for you to shelve, there’d be a woman in the store who would begin to flirt with him. He always seemed baffled and out of his depth, never flirting back and just trying to escape.

“What was that all about?” he asks you once, poking his head out of the backroom when she leaves. This woman had come onto him particularly strong, trying to touch his arm and invite him to the Leaky Cauldron. 

“She was flirting with you,” you chuckle, sorting the coins into the till. He scoffs.

“No, she wasn’t,”

“Yes, she was,” you laugh in disbelief. He chews his lip.

“Only because of what I did during the war,” he dismisses, fiddling with his wand in his apron pocket. It amuses you how insecure he is. But he is partially right, he’s become a bit of a celebrity in the wizarding world, thanks to Harry Potter’s insistence on mentioning Neville’s contributions every time he’s interviewed about the war. Sometimes you think it’s selfishly motivated, wanting the world to focus on someone other than him so he can be left alone, and dumping it on poor shy Neville.

“That could be true I suppose, but I bet she’d still let you shag her,” you grin at him. Neville splutters.

“I… I don’t…” he runs his finger through the collar of his shirt. You chuckle at his reaction, enjoying teasing him like this. “That’s not… I wouldn’t do that…” he swallows thickly. 

You’d discovered quickly that you had a certain power over Neville. At first, it was catching him occasionally staring. You’d be leaning on the counter, your ass jutting out slightly as you scribble down inventory notes and you’d glance at the door to the backroom, spotting him peering through the glass door. He’d immediately blush beet red and look away, clearly ashamed to have been caught staring at you. It was sweet, in a way, because most guys didn’t seem to have any shame in ogling at you, at least Neville seemed to know he shouldn’t be doing it, even if he couldn’t stop himself. Slowly, you start leaving more and more of your shirt buttons undone, revealing glimpses of your cleavage. You revel in the way his eyes constantly stray to you as he brings you boxes, taking shaky breaths as you bend over to pick up the little plant pots from the box and organise them onto the shelves. Whenever you talk, you take to standing just a little too close. His height gives you a perfect view down your top, and although he tries his best not to, he takes advantage of this fact often, his eyes flicking down and then his face going red. You like to innocently ask him if he’s feeling warm, which makes him stammer. It’s a bit of fun to fill your days, and quite an ego boost too. Every quiet moment in the shop you take to showing yourself off somehow, or even just chatting to him, which seems to fluster him too.

“You wouldn’t shag her? I thought she was cute…” you tease. He goes a deeper shade of red.

“She’s… it’s not… uh…” he stumbles. You smile, leaning yourself onto the counter in a way you know shows off your ass. His eyes flick immediately down your body and he goes redder, success. “I don’t… shag…” he coughs, looking mortified. 

“What? Never? But you’re the saviour of the wizarding world!” you taunt, pretending to be shocked, when really it had become abundantly clear not long into working with him that despite how much his looks had changed, and his confidence in every other area, women still made him unbearably anxious, especially you. 

“I- I mean I…” he stutters and then straightens up. “This is none of your business,” he asserts shakily. You shrug.

“Just curious about you,” you smile flirtatiously, watching as he blushes once more and avoids your eyes. “Do you never want to shag? Some people are like that and it’s perfectly fine–” 

“No! I… uh… I do want… oh Merlin!” he groans, burying his face in his hands. You press on, pretending not to realise how uneasy he is, delighting in his discomfort. 

“Well, then what was wrong with that girl? She was cute… more than willing…” you taunt, taking a few slow steps toward him now. 

“She just… it’s not… I can’t just…” he stammers, eyes following you until you’re right in front of him. You catch his eyes flicking down to your cleavage. You smile. 

“Are you a virgin, Neville?” you ask bluntly. He twitches anxiously.

“I’m not answering that,” he squeaks, but you both know that it’s answer enough. He sighs, seeing the smug way you’re smiling at him. “It’s just… the only girl I’ve ever liked enough to do that with didn’t feel the same, she… never wanted to do that sort of thing with anyone… like you were just talking about,” he mumbles, avoiding your eye.

“Luna?” you hum. He just nods. You’d heard about that through friends, his wartime confession and her confession that she did not experience romantic or sexual feelings for anyone. To many people, it had seemed a completely foreign concept. You imagined that, even though he’d been understanding, it had probably felt like another blow to his confidence. 

“It’s… that’s over now… she’s my friend and I respect her… I don’t feel that way about her anymore…” he rambles. His eyes flicker over your face. You believe him, you touch his arm, making him tense. 

“You poor thing,” you coo gently, rubbing your thumb over the bare skin of his arm, feeling the muscle underneath. “You must feel pathetic, saviour of the wizarding world, women lining up, and yet you’re still a virgin,” he jolts slightly, not expecting your words. He feels confused, your tone is sweet and soothing, but your words are insulting. 

“I- I don’t, I’m fine,” he stammers, his cheeks red as he looks at you cautiously. What are you playing at? You pout and tilt your head. 

“Poor baby,” you coo again, making him nervous. 

“Why are you–?” he cut off when the bell above the door jingles, signalling a customer entering. You pull your hand away with a teasing smile, he just stares a little dumbly at you as you return to the till and greet the customer. He can’t help his eyes from straying to your ass, perfectly hugged by your uniform trousers. He’s never felt this crazy before, this overtaken by lust. He wants you and something about your faux-pity has made it worse. He hadn’t felt this way about Luna, he’d liked her first and foremost, he never ogled her like this, never felt this maddened by her simple presence. He forces himself to return to his work in the backroom. 

You torture him the rest of the day. He knows you’re playing at something, but he’s not quite sure what. You keep flashing him mockingly sympathetic glances, showing off your body more than usual, touching him. You’re making excuses to come into the backroom, you’ve never been in here so many times in one shift before, perhaps even ever. Leaning over his shoulders, touching his back, stretching up to the top shelves in front of him. He’s oblivious, but he’s not completely blind and while he’s suspected before that you might have taken to teasing him, now he’s sure. After trying fruitlessly to avoid you most of the day, he gives in toward the end, letting himself admire your body and enjoy your closeness. He’s had a few relentless flirts at his neck since graduating from Hogwarts, but you feel different. Most girls flirt with him because they think he’s something special, something big that will help them earn fame and get them in the Daily Prophet. You flirt like you think he’s a pathetic little puppy dog, and perhaps he should take offence from it, but instead, it makes him need you even more. Because it’s what he is, he’s not big and strong when it comes to this, he feels small and he needs someone who understands that, which you seem to, in your own roundabout way.

He helps you close up the shop, at your request, which is something he only usually does on particularly busy days, yet he knows the question is coming. You pout at him sweetly and ask for help and he comes running. As a thank you, you lean over as you count up the day's purchases, emphasising your chest and not commenting when he stares and blushes. He wouldn’t mind being compensated like this more often. He sweeps up the soil that’s accumulated on the floor from the various pots being moved around. Technically it’s your job, but how can he say no when you look at him like that and push your tits together just so?

You’re still double-checking the accounts when he goes into the back room again. He checks on all the special plants, making sure nothing is wrong, before moving toward the little cupboards in the corner of the room. He washes his hands and unties his apron slowly. Rubbing a hand through his hair, he sighs. You’ve been driving him crazy today. The subtle way you mocked him made him so needy for you even though he should hate you for it, he didn’t want to psychoanalyse that. He hears you enter but does his best to ignore you, you never usually talk at the end of your shifts, usually too tired and eager to get home to bother small talking. You wash your hands and remove your apron too, hanging it up by the door, your name tag facing forward. You feel his eyes on your ass again, which makes you smile to yourself. 

“Is that why you stare at me so much?” you taunt, being purposefully vague. You glance over your shoulder at him. He’s bright red and chewing his lip. 

“What?” he croaks. 

“Because you’re a virgin? Is that why you stare so much? My ass in these trousers is the best view you’ve been allowed?” you mock, cooing as if you’re being sympathetic. He hates that you know, but he knows he hasn’t at all been subtle enough for it to be a shock. He just takes a shaky breath.

“I’m so-sorry, really… I don’t—“ he pulls nervously at his shirt. Godric it’s hot in here. You stalk closer.

“Poor thing, can’t control yourself around me, can you, hm?” you ridicule him, stalking closer with those dark seductive eyes. He realises you’re backing him into a wall as he takes a clumsy step back, moments away from hitting the hard surface. He swallows hard and you come closer, pressing your chest to his, emphasising the curve of your breasts. He can’t help but look, even if only for a split second. “Can you?” you prompt again, your voice lower. 

“No,” he chokes. You laugh, low and mocking. 

“No… you can’t control yourself around me… you pathetic little thing,” you finally backed him against the wall. He looks nervous, but you can feel his hardening arousal against your stomach. You shift yourself slightly, making him gasp and harden even more. You look up at him, smirking, the irony of belittling him in this way doesn't even matter, because you feel powerful and he feels small in this moment. You reach up and trace his cheek, making him shiver and his eyes flutter. “Poor little loser,” he whines loudly at that, and you watch carefully to see if you’ve actually hurt his feelings or not. When his eyes flicker open again, his pupils are wildly dilated and he looks desperate. You smile and wrap your arms around his neck. 

“I am,” he whimpers. You’re surprised to hear him talk, but you let him, caressing his cheek in a mocking gesture. “I don’t want to be pathetic but I am, I can’t— do this sort of stuff,” he laments. “What kind of freak am I? Getting off to you calling me a loser?” you giggle at him and he laughs slightly too, looking down at the ground, not before glancing once more at your tits. 

“You just want someone to see you for who you are and want you anyway, not put you on some pedestal,” you hum. He blinks at you. That actually… made sense. He glances up at you. “Isn’t that pathetic of you?” you tease with a smile and you both laugh a little. 

“Yeah, Godric… I really am pathetic,” he chuckles quietly, watching you. 

“A complete loser,” you chuckle, leaning up to kiss him. He squeaks, taken completely off guard by your lips on his. You fist your hands into the material of his shirt, forcing him to lean down to your level to kiss you. He kisses back, desperate and shaky. He pants into the kiss, already feeling a little dizzy. Your hand is reaching down and brushing feather-light against the bulge in his trousers before he can register what’s going on. His hips stutter and he whines against your lips. “So pitiful, barely even touching you and you’re whining,” you mock, brushing your fingers up and down the bulge, slow and teasing. His hands come to grip at your waist, exhaling shakily against you. “So needy,” you chuckle, pulling back and pouting at him. 

“Y-yeah,” his eyes flit all over your face. You smirk up at him, trailing your hands down his body as you move to kneel in front of him. He gasps, his hands falling to his sides, chest heaving. He stares down at you, wide-eyed. He mumbles your name in question, wondering if this is really happening. You reach up, still smirking and pop to the button of his trousers. “Ah… oh Merlin…” he exhales, his eyes closing. You gently tug his trousers down and then lean forward, nuzzling your nose against the bulge in his boxers. You watch as his face twists in pleasure, a strangled gasp on his lips. He leans his head back against the wall as you press barely there kisses along his twitching length through the fabric. “This can’t be happening right now,” he pants, pushing his hips towards your face. 

“Don’t you want it to?” you tease, gently licking the wet spot on the fabric, making him gasp. 

“I— yes I want it but—this doesn’t happen… to me…” he groans as you slip down his boxers, springing him free. He stares down nervously now, no one has seen him like this before. You just smirk up at him, gently massaging his thighs. 

“You want it?” you taunt, gently blowing on his length, making him twitch and buck. 

“Nngh— yes,”

“Then beg me,” you grin. “Show me how pathetic you are for me,” he stares down at you, chest heaving, heart pounding so hard you can watch his pulse. He should feel humiliated, but the pre-cum dripping from his tip tells the both of you the reality. You lean up, placing soft open-mouthed kisses against his length, making him inhale sharply. “Beg me,” you sing-song between kisses. 

“P-please,” he gasps. “Please, I’m pathetic, I need this so bad… I’ve never– ah–!” you cut him off by licking a stripe up his length. He dissolves into a string of shaky moans as you wrap your lips around his tip, softly suckling. He’s never felt this amazing before. He fights to open his eyes and look down at you, needing the visual of you doing this committed to his memory desperately, even though he knows it will likely haunt his every waking thought from today onwards. You look smug, even on your knees in front of him, and he knows you have him wrapped around your finger. He tries uselessly to dig his nails into the wall for purchase, watching as you slowly envelop more and more of him into the heavenly heat of your mouth. Your head bobs slowly, torturously slow, up and down the length of him. What you can’t fit in your mouth, you take a gentle hold of with your hand. Your tongue swirls and laves against him within your mouth, making his hips buck toward you. You immediately withdraw, making him sob. 

“You just can’t control yourself, can you?” you chastise harshly. “Needy and brainless,” he nods along because he really can’t help but think you’re right.

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll control myself, I will, please… I need you,” he wails. You look unimpressed, slowly teasing your hand up and down his shaft. He whines, melting against the wall. “Please…” he whispers. His voice is entirely wrecked and he already looks thoroughly debauched by you, you find the image exciting. When he glances down at you with those pleading wide eyes, you can’t deny him any longer. As a final teasing act, you lean in and gently kitten lick at his slit for a moment, tasting the salty sweetness accumulating there. You feel him trying to twitch in your hand, his head falling back again and desperate groans leaving his throat. You take him as deep down into your throat as he will go, gagging just a little, and start to bob your head again. His fingers curl, and you can tell he wants to grab your hair, but he’s being good, you keep in mind to tell him he was good later. Your lips slide up and down his length, using your tongue to swirl and add an extra layer of stimulation. He’s very vocal, whining, whimpering, groaning, completely ruined. You stare up at him as you gently swallow around him. His eyes squeeze further shut and his hips cant forward, making you gag a little, but you do it again. He gasps loudly and his hands start to flail, smacking against the wall. You only realise he was trying to warn you between strangled moans when you feel the warm spurt of his release in your mouth. You swallow it down as he frantically withdraws himself from you, crying as he rides out the feeling of his orgasm, his legs shaking. He feels like he’s left his body and ascended to heaven, this was why all his friends were so crazy about sex. He got it now. Once he’s returned to himself a little, he falls to his knees in front of you. “I’m so sorry, I tried to warn you but I felt so good, I-” he fusses. “I’m so sorry, th-thank you,” he whimpers, wiping a tiny bit of cum from the corner of your mouth. “Thank you,”

“It’s fine,” you dismiss him as he holds your face and thanks you over and over. It amuses you how wrecked he is. “It’s alright, Neville,” you chuckle in disbelief, leaning forward and pecking his lips. He can vaguely taste himself on your lips, even without you opening your mouth, and it makes him groan. He chases your lips as you pull away, opening his eyes to give you a puppy-dog look. 

“Merlin … I really am pathetic,” he swallows and then laughs nervously, leaning back against the wall, smiling sheepishly as you tuck him back into his boxers. You sit on your knees in front of him and he stares at you, half in awe, half in apprehension. “Are you going to tell people about this?” he questions, slightly anxious, wiping some sweat from his brow.

“No, I can’t lose my job, we’ve just broken a bunch of rules, you realise?” you tease and he smiles slightly. 

“Are we going to do this again? Or you know… something else?” he glances at your body, feeling a little bad he couldn’t do anything to make you feel like he just did.

“Maybe, maybe not, you’ll just have to wait and see,” you taunt, pecking his cheek and rising to your feet. He cranes his neck to watch as you fetch your bag and coat. You glance at him over your shoulder, seeing him sitting on the floor, his legs stretched out in front of him, looking dazed and ruined. You can’t help but giggle, the sound stirring his stomach again. “See you soon, Longbottom,” you blow a mocking kiss and leave. He stares after you, both glad you’re gone so he can process what just happened, and also wishing you were never away from him again.

Tomorrow at work was either going to be heaven or hell on earth, and he found himself eager to find out. 

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

[wonysugar]

wonder why i’m bitter | julie han

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ. casual — chappell roan

synopsis : friends don’t act like this, you would know that better than anyone else.

pairing : non-idol!julie x fem!reader

genre : smut, angst, smutty angst, if you will! heavy on the angst though sorry.

tags : they were roommates,,, making out, marking, implied possessiveness, implied jealousy, anal rimming (heyyy), strap-on sex, vaginal penetration, cunnilingus, julie is bent ova, and YESS WHO SAID BACKSHOTS, arguing, topsub!femreader, bottomdom!julie, frequent mentions of sexuality, praise kink, cheating?? could you call this cheating,, one singular l-bomb,,, yikesss

warnings : none..? i guess apart from the obvious content warnings here (angst and smut) there’s some underlying internal homophobia themes?? but i don’t think it’s that bad tbh IDK BE WARNED JUST IN CASE

word count : 3,1k

a/n : haiii!! i’m finally posting this draft OUHH it went through so many changes, like for example THE TITLEE?? i was gonna make the title be a lyric to ‘goodluck, babe!’ by chappell roan since i originally based the fic on that but i ended up listening to casual instead and went woaahh,, this fits so much more what the hell?!? but yeahh i think i’m happy with how it turned out! :’) i hope you guys can say the sameedckem

ALSO! first time writing anything involving anal,, while yes i do talk about it often (ahem we all know,,) i was incredibly nervous in the process and this definitely made me step out of my comfort zone, hope it isn’t too apparent in this ;; but yeah, to stop rambling, thank you for reading!! i hope you like itt! :]]

“so…” julie’s friend makes a motion between the two of you with a raised eyebrow, wearing a curious smile. “what exactly are you two?” they ask. you thought about it for a few moments, theoretically, you two are roommates, friends at most. but, if anything, you’re more like a couple behind closed doors. 

you shrug, thinking nothing of it, “i guess we’re kind of like—“

“we’re just friends.” she places, wearing a polite smile at the familiar in front of her before you could even think about the rest of your sentence. when you turn to look at her, she’s avoiding your gaze, already familiar with the type of expression you’re wearing. 

it’s the face you always make when she pushes you away like this.

turning back to her friend, you nod slightly, “yeah. we’re friends.” trying your hardest not to let your dejection show through your smile. 

maybe it’s all just in your imagination, perhaps you guys were never even close to being a ‘thing’ and you were the one who thought too much into it. but alas; no matter from which angle you looked at it, the way she displayed any ounce of affection towards you would always make you overthink what you two were exactly. anything she’d do in the comfort of your own apartment with you was never close to anything she’d do in public, in front of the eyes of everyone walking by. she always acts like she barely knows you whenever she is surrounded by people, whether she knows them or not.

you think about it often.

you think about her often.

you asked yourself, do you even like her like that? well, she’s pretty chill, smart, witty and funny. she’s also beautiful, and one hell of a tease, that much is obvious, you’ve had sex with her numerous times in the past, so sexual attraction is out of the question; you already knew the answer to that. the better question probably was; does she even like you like that?

“you done with them?” says julie, referring to the pile of kitchenware you guys left from last night on the counter as she hugs you from behind and rests her head on your shoulder, her arms wrapping all around your waist and watching you. you, on the other hand, were taken by surprise by the sudden display of affection, so much so that you lost your original train of thought. as much as you knew that she liked physical touch, it always did surprise you whenever you randomly felt her skin come in contact with yours throughout the day. getting quickly accustomed to the feeling of her lips kissing your shoulder, you hummed in response, washing and scrubbing the plate with the soaped-up sponge you were holding.

“almost.” 

she whines in an exaggerated manner, “hurry uppp..” lightly tapping on your stomach and resting her head on your shoulder, before adding, “i miss you.”

you giggle, putting away the plate you were now done washing, quickly grabbing another dirty one, “i’m right here, though?”

“no like,” she left another kiss on your shoulder, “i miss you.” 

you smirked, getting progressively more and more amused by the girl’s foreign, yet familiar behavior towards you, feeling her embrace you even tighter.

“oh yeah? well in that case, i miss you too, julie.”

you knew exactly what the girl in question meant by ‘i miss you’ and you would’ve teased her further if it weren’t for how impatient she was getting, despite how cute it was. her heavily annoyed sighs giving it away, despite those also being sprinkled with a tiny bit of humor. 

“come onn, don’t play dumb with me, smartass.”

so, you pushed the oblivious act aside and obliged, setting the plate down before facing her.

your lips danced in sync with hers as you carried her to your bed. once you got there, you gently sat her down on the edge of the mattress, lips still intertwined whilst her hands glided along the curves of your body, tracing circles with the tip of her index finger on your soft skin. 

you didn’t waste any time in laying her down moments later,, your mouth now eagerly roaming her neck and collarbone and leaving kisses down along her body, successfully marking it up. listening to her quiet hums, you proceeded to slide down her sweatpants, your hands tugging on the waistband.

now left in only her panties, you allowed your fingers to glide over the damp spot in between her legs, teasing the clothed entrance and taking in all of her reactions all at once. 

looking at you through the light brown hair that fell perfectly on her face with hooded eyes and slightly upturned eyebrows, she whispered in a low, husky and raspy tone, “see, baby? see how wet i am for you?”

now, julie had this certain ability to turn even the most confident person alive on this earth into a nervous wreck.

you were, obviously, no exception from her spells. if anything, you, y/n, were a prime example.

you slowly nodded at her words, entranced, feeling yourself fall more and more at her mercy with each second that passed. that earned a smirk from her, putting her hand atop yours, before continuing, “you’re gonna be good and do something about it, right?” 

you nodded once again, this time more eager. 

“words, darling.” she whispered.

“yes,” you muttered in response, a mix of nervousness and eagerness taking over all five of your senses, “o-of course i will.”

she hummed, perfectly content with your adorable answer, before pulling you back into a hungry kiss for another long, pleasant while. that is, until she added something else between kisses, something that made you shudder.

“get the strap.” 

immediately reaching for the drawer next to your bed upon hearing those words, lips still connected to hers, you obeyed and pulled the cabinet open, quickly pulling out the phallic silicone object residing in it as well as the harness, too impatient to feel even embarrassed about the sudden action. 

it didn’t take long before the harness was tight around your hips, the brunette bent over in front of you at the edge of the bed with her panties pulled down to her thighs. you ravished in the sight; her perfect pink pussy sitting before you, slick and wet with desire, begging for you to finally please it properly, practically throbbing in anticipation. who were you to deny her of such pleasure? 

you traced your index finger along her slit, your digit comfortably nestled in between her slippery folds as it slowly teased the entrance. 

rewarded by the sweet sounds coming out of her, you wasted no more time and slowly leaned into her core, giving a long swipe of the tongue to her pussy.

“ohh shitt..” overhearing her moans, you smiled against her as you were now making out with her swollen cunt, intending to taste every drop of her slick, not wasting a single one. your lips circled around her bundle of nerves, giving it small and gentle sucks whilst one of your hands massaged her ass.

subconsciously, julie’s back arched with each movement that your tongue made inside her, her head hung low on the bed as she whimpered filthy praises, her sounds just slightly muffled from the white bedsheet she had over her mouth. 

you heard them, though. 

thank god you heard them.

after a long while of giving more than endless attention to her pussy, you felt your mouth move upwards by itself, driven by the pure desire to make her feel even better than she already was. 

your tongue quickly made its way to her ass, roaming and dancing around her rim, which immediately earned a sharp gasp from her part. you’ve never made it a habit to eat julie’s ass, but whenever you did? it was always enough to cloud your brain with pure, raw want, and it always seemed to catch her pleasantly off-guard, since you’d always do it without any warning. 

you attempted to relax her again by tracing slow circles around her hole with your muscle, before inserting it fully, which you could only assume worked, since you could hear her whines get longer and louder. “fuckk yes baby..” she shamelessly moaned, this time more audibly due to her raising her head up and looking back at you as best as she possibly could, “that’s it, such a sweet girl for me— ah..“ 

using one of your hands, you made sure to thoroughly stimulate her clit, rubbing circles around it and even going as far as to inserting two fingers inside her dripping cunt with your other hand in the process, all whilst the muscle in your mouth flicked way within her, drilling and wriggling as you hummed against her. 

after what felt like hours of you messily rimming her, hours of her pushing herself further onto your mouth, practically fucking herself on you, you figured it was finally time to give her what’d she been wanting ever since she came up behind you in the kitchen.

pulling your fingers out and standing back up, you lined up your strap-on to her aching core, pressing the head against it before slowly inserting its entire length inside of her. 

she let out a groan at the feeling of being penetrated, which progressively turned into longer and more suggestive sounds. it all sounded like music to your ears, it only made you want to please her more.

you reached for her hand, grabbing it upon contact. she squeezed yours with just as much force in return, pleasure visibly taking over her senses. it didn’t take long for you to be full on thrusting into her, either, feeling her walls clench around your fake cock as she babbled praises. 

it was a small gesture, sure, but it made you feel things you weren’t quite certain on how to label.

“such a good girl for me—“ was what she let out, a loud moan escaping her agape mouth whilst you continued pounding her, faster with each second that passed. “f-fuck y/n i love you—“

you saw her lose herself under you, you watched in… admiration? infatuation? whatever it was, you thought she looked mesmerizing, especially with how her brown long hair fell all over the place, how perfect she sounded, how perfect she looked.

how perfect she was.

the words “i love you” resonated in your head. 

“who’s eric?” you ask her, having thrown glances at her phone that was charging on the kitchen counter whilst washing a plate, the singular one you had left untouched due to being… distracted. 

you finished washing it, then turned around, now met with a surprised julie, clothed in a pair of booty shorts and a white tank top, she was fresh out of the shower, towel drying her hair. that is, until she unexpectedly heard you speak that name, her eyes immediately darting between you and the phone, greeted by that man’s contact name and picture on the latter, an incoming phone call from his part. 

“a guy?” she says back, in her usual sarcastic yet gentle and quiet tone, “thought that was obvious enough—“

jealousy and inexplicable possessiveness flooded your senses; you knew most of her friends, but, you had no idea who this ‘eric’ dude was, and that especially ate at you. why was he calling her, on a random weekday at like, 4 pm? you had checked the clock hanging on the wall to confirm the time.

“well yeah but, i don’t think i know an eric.” you stated, wary of what the girl before you was gonna say, “who is he?”

“…i just told you, some dude. i met him on campus and we just exchanged contacts after he complimented me, a while ago.” she replied, slight annoyance cracking through the facade of the joking expression she wore. she ran her dominant hand through her messy and wet hair, causing it to fall back perfectly on the side of her face and her exposed shoulders. 

she added, “sure, he makes it very clear he wants to hook up with me, but that’s all it’ll ever be i think, he’s not the type of guy you’d wanna date seriously. why do you ask—“ 

“no reason.” you cut her off, cold and dry.

she furrowed her eyebrows, the previous annoyance being more and more apparent, this time only paired with confusion. “…what?” 

“so this is completely normal for you? like, you guys hook up and call each other sometimes and you’re just casually telling me about it? what, does he take you out on dates too?” 

“what are you, my girlfriend or something?” she scoffed, bitter and defensive, gently throwing the towel on the couch in close proximity to her, “and what if he does, why’s it such a big deal to you?” 

why is it such a big deal to me?

why is it such a big deal to me?

and before you know it, you’re quickly matching her tone. “i simply don’t understand how you could tell me something so casually, especially right after we—“

“listen, let’s get this straight.” she says to you, “i know that just because you and i fuck sometimes you’re convinced that it’s gotta mean something, that we’re something, but we aren’t. it doesn’t fucking mean shit to either of us and you know that very well. it’s all in good fun; i don’t belong to you, y/n, and i never will.” 

“it’s not about that?” you walked closer to her as you justified, trying to get your point across, “i’m not saying that you belong to me julie i’m just trying to say that—“

her stare pierces right through you as she cuts you off, and you could’ve sworn you noticed her eyes being glossy. her eyebrows furrowed in anger at you, she added on, “who i date isn’t your business. we’re just friends, and that’s all we’ll ever be, end of discussion. don’t try to turn our friendship into something it isn’t.” 

friends?

“so now i’m the crazy one for not liking the fact that you’re talking to that dude?” you eventually yelled back. you didn’t even notice her grabbing her things as you talked, ready to head out, despite her hair still being wet from the recent shower. you, however, noticed how she took her still ringing phone and put on her favorite puffy jacket, her soft hand’s acrylic nails digging and clutching onto the mentioned cellular device as you rambled on and on, irritated beyond comprehension. 

“we’re not fucking dating y/n, it’s all casual, i.. i’m not even into girls like that—” she asserted herself, trying her absolute hardest to sound as convincing as possible. you heard it, though, you heard that little twinge of doubt and guilt in her voice. it’s almost like she, herself, didn’t believe whatever nonsense was coming out of her mouth. 

how funny was it to watch her say that all whilst having the fresh hickeys you left on her neck and collarbone not even a few hours ago?

perhaps eric will notice them, too.

perhaps with that, he’ll realize how good you treat her, how he’ll never be able to do it like you do.

how he’ll never be able to make her feel as good as you do.

“sure, you aren’t.” you scoffed at her words, before proceeding to add on, “since you swear you aren’t, how about you stop acting like you are? you know, instead of giving me shit for getting upset.” 

“sorry?—“ she laughed bitterly, those words cut deep.

let me talk, you thought, let me place a damn word.

you continued, “no, seriously! you always do this julie, you always make me feel like i’m fucking insane for seeing it the way it is, for the way i see us. you’re convinced that there’s nothing between us, that we’re just friends, yet friends don’t randomly kiss me throughout the day for whatever reason, do they? they don’t fuck me and tell me that they love me in the process, do they?” as you spoke, she avoided your gaze and walked right past you, heading straight for the front door.

that’s when you recalled a certain moment, “sure, why not, let’s say, for your sake, that completely normal friends do fuck sometimes; they don’t buy you stupid lovey-dovey bullshit on valentine’s day and drive you to the middle of nowhere to stargaze, they do not take you out at night and take every opportunity to kiss you in public whenever nobody’s looking, they don’t fucking say they love you while you’re deep inside them— i mean for fuck’s sake julie do you hear yourself??”

she stopped in her tracks in front of the door, her hand resting on the doorknob. she hates it when you read her like a book, she hates it when you call her out on being the way she acts with you, she hates it when you stare at her like that— she fucking hates you. she fucking hates you for making her feel the way she does, for making her question everything about herself, she hates herself for thinking about you whenever she’s with him—

she let out a noise, something in between a sob and a laugh, before looking back at you with tear-filled eyes, she stared at you, up and down. her eyebrows twitching slightly, she then set her eyes on the ground and bit her lip in what seems to be frustration, frustration aimed both at you and herself.

“if i knew it was gonna be like this, i would’ve never done anything with you to begin with.” her voice was shaky.

you watched her figure as she turned the doorknob and slammed the door on you, with a loud clack. just like that, the apartment was empty, silent and once again, peaceful.

she’d be back, of course, whether she decides to sleep somewhere else and come back the next day or sneak back in here in the middle of the night on this same day, she always comes back after a fight. still, despite knowing that, you couldn’t help but feel like drowning in your own guilt, as this argument wasn’t like any other other. her pained expression still vivid in your memory and terrorizing you, you were afraid that you might never see her again after that.

that was pure dramatization, however.

the only thing that occupied the deafening silence of the room was the muffled sound of julie sniffling and being on the phone with who you assumed to be that boy, already planning to meet up. then, you could’ve sworn you heard the name “eric?” being pronounced as it progressively faded in the distance as she walked away, basically confirming your theory. 

that’s all that filled your house and your clouded mind.

that, and the sound of your pathetic sobbing.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

You... Cheater? - Demon Brothers

SUMMARY: They saw you making out with some random demon. But only after talking to you will they find out that it wasn't you after all. It was a demon impersonating you. But how did they feel before realizing this and how did they react to the relief that it wasn't really you they saw?

(This takes place before the events of Nightbringer.)

CHARACTERS: Demon Brothers (Lucifer; Mammon; Leviathan; Satan; Asmodeus; Beelzebub & Belphegor)

TAGS: Fluf; GN Reader; Comfort; Kiss, Tears, a little Angst (I think)

WORD COUNT: An average of 470 words per character.

👉 You… Cheater? - Side Characters

COMMENTS: I was looking for prompts and saw something like “cheating” or “How would they react to being cheated on?” But I don't like cheaters, this would be to sad. However, they thinking they were cheated on, but in fact they were deceived and you comfort them, that looked like a better option to me.

I hope you enjoy ;)

CONTEXT: He was walking the streets of Devildom, maybe out shopping for dinner. And he saw you! Or at least someone he thought was you. The appearance was exactly like yours! And you were making out with some random lower demon, that was unmistakable. That he could see clearly without a doubt.

This takes place before the events of Nightbringer.

Lucifer decided to walk up to “you” and have a conversation with “you” right there. But when “you” and the other demon saw him, both ran away. He didn't follow them. He stopped right there and it only took a few seconds for him to realize that something was wrong. That couldn't be you. It does not make sense. You wouldn't cheat on him. Who would?

Part of him doesn't believe it was you because he knows you and your character. But the other part that doesn't believe it was you is his Pride. Cheat on Lucifer? With someone like Diavolo he could understand, but a lower demon? No, that wasn't you, you're not that stupid! However, he can't help but have a very small fear that it really was you. But that one is irrational, it can't be right.

He asks you to go talk to him in his office and, of course, you have no idea what he saw. So, you don't know what he wants to talk to you about.

“Where were you while I was away?” is the first thing he asks after telling you that you can come in. You are confused, but the truth is, you've been playing with Levi in his room. Then some of the other brothers also showed up to play, so you have a lot of alibis.

“Did Solomon ever teach you how to duplicate yourself?” If you respond with "Is that possible?!" and an obvious face of surprise, he will burst out laughing. “I wouldn't be surprised if it was.” he continues and tells you about what he saw on the street.

Your reaction tells him everything he needs to know and confirms his suspicions. “Don't worry, I knew it wasn't you. I just wanted to confirm with you.” he lifts your chin and kisses your lips “I would never fall in love with a cheater.”

And then, he hugs you. It starts out like a normal hug, but after his arms are around you, you feel them tighten slightly. As if that little irrational side of him that worried him was showing how relieved he was that it really wasn't you. As if that little irrational part of him, that told him what he'd seen could be real, was showing you how relieved he was wrong.

“I don't know who those demons were.” He says, slowly breaking the hug and looking at you. “Yet.” You see his eyes, a look very similar to the one he usually has when he wants to punish his brothers. But this one was worse. “I will find out who they were. They need to be reminded why they shouldn't deceive us. Of course you are more than welcome to join me, after all they had the audacity to impersonate you.”

We all know Mammon is the emotional type not the rational one. So... he’s completely desolate, devastated, he’s heart shattered in pieces. It didn't even cross his mind that it might not be you, despite the number of times he said to himself "No, no, no, no, no, no..." He didn't have the courage to face “you”. He even dropped the purchases he made. One of the items he bought was a gift for you. And he run away.

He didn't come home. After all, you were there and seeing you would be too painful. But nobody knew about it. But nobody knew about it. Well, actually he went home, without the groceries and without listening to anyone. He just went straight to his room and left again, but this time on his car. You haven't seen him.

It's when everyone else goes to talk to you about not knowing where he is and being his turn to make dinner that you decide to go to his room and summon him. I mean, you have no idea where he is either. He doesn't respond to your messages. Summoning him will bring him straight to you, straight to home.

He appears and falls on his butt. “OI! WHAT THE-?!” he looks at you. His eyes were reddish and his cheeks wet. You ask what happened, worried. “You... I... You know what happened!” But you don’t. “Yes you do! I saw you! I saw... you two...”

“Us two? You mean Asmo and I? Of course you saw us. You came with us.” You remind him that the three of you went shopping together, but Asmo wanted to buy a new perfume and wanted you to go with him. So Mammon went to buy the rest of the stuff.

He is clearly embarrassed. “W-wait, s-so you were with Asmo the whole time?” Yes, you still even smelled like the perfume he bought. “S-so... you weren't sneaking kissing another demon on the street?” What the heck was he talking about?! Of course not! Does he really thought you would be kissing a random demon on the street when you could be making out with him? Your first?! And you tell him that. He's such a dummy!

He hugs you desperately. And he starts to cry again, but this time with relief. His face on your shoulder, he can't even speak, just sob. As if you just woke him up from a nightmare. You hug him back and kiss him on the forehead.

He really needs some time with you now. He's not really the vindictive type. He just wants you, your love and affection, although it took him a while to admit it. So you two cuddle for a while on his sofa. Until he remembered his car was parked somewhere.

Levi is also a very emotional person but worse: he is the Avatar of Envy. Just like any other sin can blind you, this one is the worst for what he saw. And even even worse, we know he doesn't have a good self-esteem. Put it all together and he never felt worse in his life. He won't talk to "you", he will run back home and lock himself in his room.

You had agreed that when he arrived you would go to his room to play the new game he had gone out to buy. But he didn't tell you he was back. It was one of the brothers who told you that he had seen him arrive and enter the room.

You go to his room, knock on the door, but he doesn't answer. You try as many times as it takes until he says he wants to be alone and doesn't want to talk to anyone. Messages don't work either. Only when you threaten to break down the door does he let you in.

The lights are off and he's hiding under the covers in the bathtub. You ask what's going on and again he takes a long time to answer you. He’s more the type of avoiding talk and/or see you. Listening to you is painful enough already. Worried, you slowly approach and ask again, in your sweetest voice, what was going on.

“I SAW IT, OK!?” he exploded, without coming out from under the covers, his voice cracking. “I... saw it... I saw you... on the street...” He saw you on the street? Was he talking about seeing you and Satan on the book store? “WHAT? No!” He got up, uncovering himself from the blankets. His eyes were reddish and a few tears were still falling down his cheeks. “I saw you kissing that demon on the street.” he calms down a bit and starts talking about that shouldn't surprise him. Even a lower demon was better than him. Of course he would never be enough for you. Someone like him? Of course not. You deserved better. You would even deserve the crown of Devildom...

Well, you don't remember kissing Satan on the street, so you have no idea what he's talking about. You tell him you went out with Satan to the bookstore and you were with him the whole time until you got back home. Levi could ask him. Whoever he saw wasn't you.

It takes a while for him to process that and realize that who he saw really wasn't you. And for him to throw himself into your arms. He's not afraid to cry in front of you, and on your shoulder. His hug is tight, desperately and lovingly tight.

He tells you again about his fear of losing you, of you leaving him. You end up getting in the bathtub with him. Cuddling with and reassuring him. Saying you would never leave him, how much you love him. He needs you now, he needs to recover from the shock that luckily wasn't real.

What have those two demons just done? Envy is a very bad sin to be the avatar of in a situation like that. But even worse is Wrath! Satan instantly assumed his demon form, throws the groceries to who knows where, and walked towards the two. They noticed him approach by the heavy and determined steps and fled. He stopped. “You” looked at him with such fear in “your”eyes, it shocked him.

He didn't mean to hurt “you”, he never would! But “you” hurt him. How could this be happening? You weren't like that, you were so kind and lovable... Wait, you're not like this. Something is wrong. And he only realizes this after stopping and calming down a bit. Something he learned from you. No! You wouldn't do this. Something was really wrong and he needed to talk to you now!

As soon as he gets home, he asks the first brother of his he sees if you are there. And after hearing a yes he runs to your room. Ignoring the "Why? What's going on?" after that yes.

He knocks at your door while calling your name. You open the door and he rushes into the room, closing the door behind you and practically "Kabedon" you against the door. “Have you been here the whole time?” he seems to contain some kind of anger. It worries you a little, but at these times you know you need to be the calm person. And yes, you were home that whole time. In fact, you spent a lot of time helping Mammon with his studies. He practically begged for your help to avoid another punishment from Lucifer.

You seemed sincere, but still: “So, you never left the house? Not even to go shopping?” You think for a moment. But no, pretty sure you never left the House of Lamentation. And the hours of study were very long. You both know what a bad student Mammon is.

He sighs, lowers his head for a moment and then drops down to hug you. It is a tender and relieved hug. “I’m sorry.” he whispers in your ear. “I just... wanted to make sure..." you hug him back and finally feel like it's the right time to ask what's going on.

He tells you what he saw on the street. The shock on your face is further proof to him that it wasn't really you he saw. As he thinks about what that could have been, his expression change. The expression of the true Avatar of Wrath.

“The only explanation is that someone impersonated you. I don't know who they were but I'll find out. And I couldn't care less if there were any reason for them to do that. Nobody tarnishes your name! I will find them, and when I do I'll make them regret even the air they breathe today.”

Asmo doesn't think you are cheating on him. After all he’s the Avatar of Lust, he better than anyone understands the concept of One-night stand. But he can't help but get a sour feeling in his stomach. He used to do one-night stands, but that was before he meet you. After that he couldn't do it anymore, he just wanted you. And he thought you only wanted him. What was happening to him?

He thought of going to you. Ask if he could join. That would look like him, but no, he can't, that's not what he wants to do. It's nothing related to his sin that he wants to do. He felt more like... Levi? Could it be jealousy? Him?! He needed to go home. ASAP!

He does his best to pretend that nothing is wrong, that he just came back from shopping and didn't see anything special. Maybe he'll come up with some story about a purse he saw, just to keep up the facade that everything was fine.

He'll avoid you for awhile, flashing you a smile you knew was fake. It was at dinner time, after he sent a message to the brothers' group saying he didn't feel well and therefore wouldn't have dinner that you decided to go to his room and check on him.

He is reluctant to let you in, but he still wants to show you that everything is fine, so he gives in at the second or third knock. He is sitting on the bed. And not even all the make-up he could put on his face would manage to hide from you the sadness that was really in his eyes. Despite his smile. He tells you not to worry, but it's when you insist that you can tell something is wrong that he decides to tell you the truth.

“I... I wanted to ask you.” he puts back on his everything is fine mask “Who was that new demon friend of yours?” You look confused at him. “I wasn't snooping, I promise. I just ended up seeing you two. You know, even if you try to hide yourself well there is still a possibility that someone will see you making out on the street.” he was forcing a smile, as if wanting to look like he was giving you genuine advice. But you got even more confused. What the heck was he talking about?

“Aww, don't worry hon, I'm not mad. I... think...” he mutters to himself and then goes back to talking to you. “You don't need to hide it from me. I saw it with my own eyes, you know?” you see his eyes water slightly. He's trying so hard not to cry.

But you weren't on that street today. “What?!” he widens his eyes, as if seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. You tell him you've been with Lucifer at RAD most of the day, helping him with paperwork. And even when you came home, you came back with him. And that was it. That and you wouldn't making out with a random demon on the streets. You have standards. and they only skyrocketed after you met Asmo.

He believes in you, he always believed in you and you really seemed to be telling the truth. He finally breaks down in tears and jumps out of bed to hug you desperately. He is so happy to know that that wasn't you! But he's still confused about what he felt. He really needs to talk to you about this. But after dinner. His appetite has returned and he is starving.

Beel doesn't know what to do. Should he pretend he didn't see anything? Should he go talk to you? He was so confused. You're not like this. what was happening? He... shouldn't interrupt, should he? He just grabs the groceries and heads home.

None of the groceries survived the trip. He ate up his feelings along the way. Or at least he tried. Lucifer was about to scold him, until he saw the look on his face and he just decided to let him go to his room and talk later. But the truth is, he would ask you to talk to him. And that's because even Belphie couldn't.

Belphie went to the attic to let you two talk alone in their bedroom. You knocked on the door, but Beel didn't answer. He didn't tell you to come in, but he didn't say you couldn't either. You walk in and see him lying on his bed with his back to you.

You slowly walk up to him and ask what's going on. He still doesn't respond. You sit on the bed and when you touch him, he flinches a little. Ok, now you're really worried. You ask him to please tell you what's going on, in your sweet, understanding voice.

He takes a deep breath and then slowly gets up to sit on the bed beside you. He still can't look at you. He doesn't look upset, just sad and confused. “I saw you on the street.” he calmly explains, with a sadness in the voice that breaks your heart “With that demon.”

What demon? What street? You haven't even left the house today. “What?!” he finally looks at you. He hadn't cried yet, but he was close to it. You tell him you didn't leave the house. You were even in the Planetarium with Belphie while Beel went shopping.

He believes in you, he always did and he never had any reason not to. And the same goes for Belphie. “So it wasn't you I saw on the street kissing another demon?” What? Of course not! What was he talking about?

He doesn't explain, he just smiles hugely and gives you one of his bear hugs. He tells you what he saw while hugging you. He doesn't care what he saw. He doesn't want to know who did it. The only thing that matters is that it wasn't really you. The real you was there, with him, hugging him back and letting him kiss you and kissing him back.

Then you hear his stomach rumble like a beast. His appetite had returned, and with a vengeance.

What the F*ck was going on?! Did that filthy lower demon make you do that? Were you under some spell? Belphie was going to put an end to it NOW! He assumed his demon form, throws the groceries away and rushed towards “you”. But when “you” two see him, “you” run away. He runs after the two, but unfortunately for him, the demon manages to outrun him.

He comes back home looking for you and without the groceries. When Lucifer sees him and prepares to lecture him for not bringing the groceries, Belphie stops him and asks if you are at home. It’s important! Something might have happened to you. Lucifer says you're in your room and lets Belphie run to your door.

You hear him knocking urgently at your door. You open the door, and seeing the seriousness on his face you ask what happened. He stands still in silence for a moment, looking at you, analysing. Then he comes in and lets you close the door.

“Did you leave the house today?” he asks calmly. You say yes. “Where did you go?” That was weird, he wasn't the stalking type, he was too lazy for that. That and he was never like that, much less with Beel. You went with Beel to a new pastry shop that opened to try their drinks and sweets. Needless to say, you spent a lot of time there. You had to drag Beel back home because it was getting late. You two had only arrived home shortly before Belphie himself.

“You never left his side?” No. Why would you? You love hanging out with Beel. By the way you speak and your confused expression, he knows you're telling the truth. And his straight face instantly turns into a reassured, lazy laugh. “Ha ha ha. I knew that was weird. It wasn't even you.” And now that his good mood was back, you could safely ask what the heck was going on.

“Ummmmm... I'm too tired to tell. At least standing. You know, I saw something that made me worry about you, so I ran back to see if you were all right. I'm so sleepy right now. What if I told you while we cuddle in your bed?” That sly bastard, taking advantage of a subject like that for cuddles.

He tells you what happened while the two of you are in bed. But even though he's relaxed in your arms he doesn't fall asleep. “That was probably some demon impersonating you with some shapeshifting spell.” he says “If they had done that to me, I wouldn't care. But since you were the one they did this to, I'll make sure to find them and break their neck.” he said with a cute smile and already half asleep, which only made the threat worse. And then finally fell asleep in your arms.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[atinystraynstay]

Pretty Boy Rock - Yoon Jeonghan

Synopsis: Every girl in your office swooned over Yoon Jeonghan besides you. Yet, Jeonghan always liked a challenge.

Pairing: Colleague!Yoon Jeonghan x fem. reader

Genre: "I won't fall for you because everyone else does" girl meets the "I get whoever I want" boy

Inspired by @aaniag - thanks for tagging me in this post ♡ this is only the second one so we still have a long way to go!

First Encounters Mini Series: #1: #2: #3: #4: Wonwoo #5: Jeonghan #6: #7: #8: Dino

Word Count: 2k

Friday afternoon, 12:25pm

"Did you see what Jeonghan is wearing today?" "Girl, how could I not notice? My attention was all over his slacks." "The front or the back?"

Oh god. Give me a fucking break.

If there was one thing you hated, it was gossip around the office. Especially when it came in the form of girls basically drooling over one of your colleagues, Yoon Jeonghan. And of all places, they decided to take their little thirst fest into the break room.

"You know, there is something that I noticed," you said, popping into the conversation.

Immediately, heads snapped towards your direction. You were a bit taken back by the abrupt movement, fearing that their own heads would fall off. Either because they didn't realize you were in the room or they were interested in what you out of all people had to say. You were one of the few survivors of the trance Jeonghan seemed to place over your female colleagues. And if you had something to say regarding the matter, they surely were interested.

You couldn't help but smile slightly as you set down your silverware. The element of surprise had to be on your side here. You just had come in to enjoy your salad, but why not enjoy a show?

All the women leaned in, anticipating for what you might have to say. Your eyes glanced from side to side, as if you were scooping the scene to make sure there were no unwanted listeners. Getting the hint, the women leaned further in to hear the secret you were about to spill.

Time to go in the for the kill. In the loudest voice you could possible muster, you said the following:

"The way you talk about Jeonghan is quite disgusting. You hate when the men in the office talk about your skirts or how tight your blouses, but here you are drooling over Jeonghan in just a pair of pants? Pathetic. Close your mouths, ladies, or you might flood the office."

The small group gasped at you, eyes glaring at you but also glancing around to make sure nobody had looked in their direction. Their faces red in embarrassment as you smirked triumphantly.

Being the polite person you are, you bowed your head gently to pardon yourself. Gathering all the trash from your lunch, you threw it away and was about to make your exit.

"You're just upset that you're not Jeonghan's type," one of the woman muttered.

You couldn't help but laugh at their claim. You turned towards the group who seemed to be mustering all the courage they could to stand up to you. At the same time, you raised an eyebrow and had your hands on your hips. Do they really think their words will hurt you?

"Oh no! What will I ever do?" You said dramatically. "At least I don't live in some delusion where me and my friends are all after the same guy? I mean, he can only pick one of you. Or worse, he picks none of you."

Their eyes widened and mouths dropped at your words. Don't mess with the bull or you might get the horns. They seemed to be trying to come up with another comeback, but all you could do was walk away. Not worth wasting your breath on them.

You began to make your way back to your cubicle. You still had a few reports you needed to get done with before you could close out for the weekend. It wasn't that you hated your job. If anything, you kind of liked the routine it put you in. You even were beginning to be handed more responsibilities like leading presentations and joining brainstorming sessions for different marketing campaigns.

You definitely didn't have the time to be oogling over the looks of Yoon Jeonghan.

As you settled back at your dress, you let out a sigh. As invested as you were in the work you were doing, you couldn't help but feel as if time was dragging now that it was towards the later part of the day. Just 3 more hours.

"Well look who it is," a voice called out.

The hairs on the back of your neck rose a bit. You recognized that voice anywhere. Your attention was locked on the computer monitor in front of you, thinking that if you ignore the interruption it would just go away naturally. That was until you felt like something was looming over.

With a narrow gaze, you looked up to see the devil himself - Yoon Jeonghan. His arms rested against the top of your cubicle wall. You realy thought you had been silent enough to get back to work without alerting the beast. But by judging by the smirk curled on his lips, you knew he had been waiting for you. The black tie was loose around his neck with the sleeves of his white button up were rolled up to his forearms.

"Missed you, darling." "What can I do to help you, Mr. Yoon?" You did your best to keep a montone voice.

You didn't want to give any sort of impression you could be into what is happening.

"Mr. Yoon? What is with the formalies, y/n?" He gasped. "Well, I'm here to do my job and not entertain whatever this is," you explained.

"Is it actually that harmful for a man to be friendly?" "But what's the catch?" "Go out with me."

Your eyes widened and you nearly laughed. He frowned at your reaction but still stood his ground. There was no need to give any indicator that his ego had deflated a bit. He was not used to someone being so upfront with their rejection, normally accustomed to a shy "I don't know." But you were different. There was a reason he did this little waltz with you.

You and Jeonghan have been working together since you joined the company last year. He was technically someone in your department that could have been a mentor, but you were quickly swayed away by his flirtatious manner. Seeing that you were not dropping on your knees, begging for his attention, Jeonghan saw the challenge and knew he could beat it. There was a way to get into your heart, no matter how icy and impenetrable you wanted to come across.

He would crack the code, one way or another.

"I don't think it's a joke, doll. We're two attractive people. Come on. One meal couldn't hurt you." "Jeonghan, being in the same room as you is sometimes insufferable. How do I even know you don't want to go out with me because someone else was busy, hmm? I mean, weren't you just coupled up with the receptionist?" "Couldn't be fit into her Google Calendar."

You rolled your eyes at his response before dropping your gaze back down to your computer. You pretended to be typing away at one of the numerous documents you had pulled open, hoping it was enough for Jeonghan to get the hint.

However, he could tell you weren't budging quite yet. He also picked up on your little act as your screen was completely black. The brightness from the screen wasn't reflecting onto your face whatsoever. Still, he found you absolutely adorable.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. This is unprofessional of me, y/n. I'll leave you be."

Fucking finally.

Monday morning, 8:59am

Ding

Your heels clicked along the tile flooring of your office. It poured during your commute into work, which caused you to be stuck behind more traffic than usual. You didn't always mind, but it just put you in a foul mood. Especially since you had to sacrifice your Monday morning coffee run. It was ritual for you, and now the whole week felt like it was just off balance.

"Woah y/n. Your bad mood seems to have brought the bad weather," a voice called out to you.

Your gaze narrowed in the direction the voice came from. Your hair was slightly damped as you had to run into the front of the building from your parking spot because of course you didn't think it was going to run and didn't bring an umbrella with you.

Looking over, you noticed it was one of the girls from the break room on Friday. You rolled your eyes to refrain yourself from sticking up your middle finger. You just offered a polite smile before marching to your desk. As you moved, you heard her and her friends giggling at you. This is why you despised any sort of office relationship.

"Hey, y/n. You okay?" Jeonghan called out.

You were about to enter your cubicle when you saw Jeonghan overlooking your cubicle again. Your jacket rested on the back of your chair. it would be a miracle if it dried at all before the end of the day. You were also grateful you had a pair of flats you could change into in attempt to save your soaked shoes too. Plus, it as a good excuse to slip out of heels. You didn't mind wearing them but always valued comfort over appearance.

"Yeah," you murmured.

Usually, you would expect a snide comment from Jeonghan. Or a flirty attempt in righting the situation. But there was nothing. It cause you to freeze and look up to see what was going on. Jeonghan was only staring at you with almost a friendly smile on his face. Not a smirk but a smile.

You wanted to question it, but as you were calming down from your hectic morning, something else caught your attention. An iced coffee was sitting on your desk with a winky face on it. What the fuck?

You opened your mouth to question it but looked at Jeonghan instead. In response, he winked at you before slipping behind the wall that divided the two of you.

Standing there, you felt something unusual throughout your body. You felt warm and tingly, especially in your stomach. Your heart was doing somersaults. It was comparable to in cartoons when the heart leaps out of the character's chest. You stared at the coffee, specifically at the marker drawn winky face staring back at you.

Jeonghan did this? For me?

Your eyes couldn't help but wonder to see if this was a prank or if there was a hidden camera. Jeonghan still wasn't lurking in his usual spot. You also noticed that nobody else had an iced coffee on their desk awaiting for them. A blush overtook your cheeks, but you quickly sat down before anyone noticed.

Reaching forward, you moved the plastic container towards you to see it was from the local coffee shop you frequent. It was the place you went every Monday morning, the place you had to skip out on today or else you would be late. But what struck you was that he got your exact order.

Your blush intensified. You kept your head ducked as you took a sip out of the delicious drink. There was no denying the smile on your face wasn't just because of the coffee but because of Yoon Jeonghan.

And on the other side of the wall, Jeonghan was smirking to himself. He got his computer turned on before going to make himself a cup of coffee from the break room. He didn't often frequent coffee shops as they often didn't have decaf coffee. When he walked into the place around the corner from your office building, he asked the woman behind the corner if you had been in yet. Saying no and noting how odd it was, Jeonghan seized the opportuntiy. He asked for your usual order and requested a winky face drawn on it.

"Are you her boyfriend? She's mentioned there's a guy she's interested in at her place of work."

That's all the encouragement Jeonghan needed to go through with his plan. He shook his head but smiled at the barista. "No, not yet. I'm hoping this catches her attention."

And by the looks of your blushing face, he was close to winning you over. He always gets what he wants, and he certainly had his eyes locked on you.

[krewekreep]

Baby Daddy Red Flags: Bleach Edition (😜🤍)

This one…this one for the sluts! 😭💕 I’m an old anime bitch like lemme get it out my system! (We gonna tag this #ToxicTalk lmaoo, this is a safe space)

(If you wanna know who we share 😒, I’ll add an asterisk or whatever. ((They still mine first 😂💝🫡)) (will update and repost with new additions, semi-live post)

***ICHIGO: Lemme get my baby daddy out the way. Biggest issues would be his availability before and after the kid. Probably got pregnant in a makeup sex situation anyway. Ichigo doesn’t seem to type to breakup but will say let’s break. Based on how selfless he is it also can be seen coming from him not being able to save his mom—so he may have a savior complex. It may seem valiant at first like “oh wow you became friends with Chad helping him with bullies? You became closer to Orihime (😒) after helping her grieve her brother? You’re such a good person!” Til you realize seniority is in place and when his friends call he drops whatever he is doing to go help. It’s been time, money, etc and increasingly his selflessness comes off as codependent. Like he can’t stop trying to make up for something that wasn’t his fault.

He will also randomly reserve to right to become reclusive. Not necessarily secretive but less energetic, talkative, or engaged. (You def realize your baby got some functional depression going on. Iykyk). Might not annoy you but the random times he doesn’t want to be touched or seemingly avoids you does hurt…but he sincerely comes back letting you know he was in a weird space etc.

Ichigo’s biggest yes or no is if you’ll be able to sometimes come second or third (likely til you marry and/or have kids with him.) His father and sisters are absolutely #1, his friends are #2, and his oath to the Soul Society and humanity at large is a consequence of him protecting the first two so that’s of course #3. See where I’m going? Even on your best days you might be upset he runs off to Rukia’s or Orihime’s aid. That he has to “save the world,”to save you too. Jealous types might really become frustrated with Ichigo. And tbh I don’t see him breaking out of his ways. He won’t see a need to because there’s real results of his good deeds in his life. He knows he’s saved lives, so he knows he can continue to—so will you be able to handle the fact his duty and mindset will be self sacrificing? I don’t know I think I’d tie him down with a baby and move on.

**KENPACHI: I fully accept and am attracted to his animalistic tendencies. I absolutely can admit that about myself 😭 but…realistically you’d def have to tell him he’s too rough during sessions. He’s grown up wayward, defensive, survival mode, stomach touching his back— during a time so seemingly historical and old who knows how bad the conditions of poverty were—most kids died if they simply weren’t rich and able to eat. Or turned to crime at extremely young ages or exploited….That’s just global history in real life. And the soul society is that much more complex and arduous. Kenpachi will be a man of few words but immense action. If you want someone who will open up even eventually that is not Kenpachi Zaraki. You will highly likely never know of his past because he will never say he is excruciatingly doing everything to never have to. And no, he won’t communicate ever if anything terrible is on his mind. Although kenpachi is coded as barbaric he really is just that protective—he’s as angry as he will be based solely upon someone’s proximity to him emotionally. You and Yaru will be so exclusively held in a regard he won’t even understand. Just the black hole of his awareness he’ll surpass anything to save y’all. He won’t speak on why Lady Unohana isn’t around anymore (new anime, manga lore). But again, when he ends up rough too many nights in a row you distance yourself from him. He can’t admit to you he disassociates and goes back to bad times. He can’t tell you your comfort and warmth makes him remember the times he needed it before—he doesn’t mean to hurt you but he lives for a fight. But he wants to stop making everything and everyone something to “conquer.” He’ll be a real deal handful and it will solely up to you to either tell him you can’t be with him until he figure shit out or you’ll stick beside him and work through it together. (In this case Yaru is the “kid” yall share, I see him being weary of birthing a child and being a dad in such a “visceral” way. Will have total abandonment trauma and just can’t see him getting over it completely to bring new life into a world he already sees the worst in tbh.) but in terms of “baby momma” treatment? Or your prioritized and protected best believe. 💕 he also will force you to learn combat cause you should be able to take care yourself too. Which might either be hot or burdensome. You’re gonna know how to fight. And tbh he might try to bring it into the bedroom on some weird let’s play fight shit so watch yourself. That’s a BIG MAN! 😭😂💕 “HA! Now that you know how do a few things why don’t you test it on me?” Big cheeky sneaky ass grin girl don’t fall for it!

BYAKUYA: This is the guy who will match your freak everywhere but in public. No PDA—actually don’t even look at him or try to talk to him in public…be professional. He will be joking with others and you’ll get upset saying “Hey! You let the other members of the society tease you?” And in private he’ll admit it’s just to keep up appearances and he hates it all. 😭 I think his biggest issue will be coming off fake or disingenuous or you’ll have a hard time sincerely seeing him cause he’ll be so different depending on where y’all are. People wouldn’t know he’s like a mom boyfriend who makes sure you eat, sleep, and keep up with yourself. Yes, he will absolutely unintentionally say something insulting like “This doesn’t suit you. Find something else.” And yes he will be very clearly on guard when in public. People will openly wonder why you’re with him tbh. Which will frustrate the both of you of which neither of you ever bring up to the other. Byakuya has lost a love before—he won’t talk about it ever. You MIGHT get something out of Rukia about it cause it was her sister but I doubt she’ll go super intimate about THEIR relationship cause she respects both his and her sister’s privacy. So you might be stuck on an eavesdropping side quest with Renji that amounts to nothing cause he’ll sense yall. He’ll be amused and somewhat touched you wanted to watch him work though. He’s usually the one keeping check or track of things so he’ll never say he likes that you peep on him and mind his business. You care about him and he knows he’s a bit unfair not allowing any PDA. But he so openly loved on Rukia’s sister he couldn’t help the shameful self imposed embarrassment once he had to walk the halls alone…Byakuya will be a very intentional, quiet lover. I doubt he’ll moan very much tbh unless he’s exhausted and allowing you to take care of him. Sometimes he’ll absolutely disappear all day into work. Other times he’ll be sure to direct his underlings to wait on you in his stead. He’s more manageable if you can accept his sometimes snarky, distant, super private ways. As a father he’ll be annoyingly big on exceptionalism and them being smart and talented. You’ll have to be sure he isn’t burdening your kid when you aren’t around. And you’ll have to be sure he doesn’t inadvertently impart his insensitive habits too. Likewise, you’ll ABSOLUTELY have to “deal or no deal” him about giving affection to your kid in public. You will absolutely have to go off and tell him it’s y’all or his image. And yeah now he’s holding both yall hands albeit defeated. 💕😭

AIZEN: Shit…girl (im black my “girl…” is gender neutral don’t be annoying 💕) you already know what it is. Yandare, selfish, self righteous, MEAN, EVIL…but fine and rich as fuck. 😔🫤 it will be a doozy to be with this one. You literally have to know and accept what you getting into bestie. I can’t even warn you, you know! 😭 but seriously if your an aizen bias you accept him as is 😭 psycho ass. So I wanna just write how’d he be as a baby daddy. Now not to get…too mature…but if you happened to be someone captured/kidnapped by him and pregnant…baby you is a victim! BUT ITS FANFIC SOOO if you were the captured baby momma that’s in his realm with him…well girl you in the realm lord you stuck. “Can I go to the human world?” “For what?” “Uh, sun?” “Humph what do you need sun for…” He’ll look down at your crying child and be like “Ugh okay whatever but Grimmjow is your chaperone.” And you won’t care cause Grimmjow lets you run off and live life. Which Aizen knows but the minute you aren’t overtly scared and submissive to him he’ll lose his weird sense of “power.” You’re man crazy bestie. He’s definitely someone you won’t talk back to until you’re a parent and equally going to advocate for your kid. He’ll realize and laugh to himself “Their not really submissive at all…little minx…” and hold you in completely new regard. “So you took me as is because you wanted to?” He’ll start thinking shit that confuses him and decide to randomly kill a grunt to distract himself like no he’s not gonna reflect into a better person. 😂 you’ll have everything you want cause you can’t go nowhere 😭. Mind you yes the sex is mind blowing so you sadly do take what positives are there…his eyes don’t fall sexually to anyone but you. His body doesn’t respond certain ways to anyone but you. And as you stand next to him more and more he’s leaning into you and your baby’s energy rather than tryna to overtake yall with his. Just don’t speak about the change and it’ll be fine. The minute you tease or openly acknowledge his becoming softer and less controlling you’ll ruin all the progress you made. Let him feel like he’s in control or whatever.

New Additions (1):

Hitsugaya: (adult of course) Hitsu will be a blend of Byakuya and Ichigo. The best aspects of him will be how attentive and actionable he is about his love for you. But — he will shy away from PDA and sometimes have moments of separated solitude. Unlike Byakuya, he will absolutely open up to PDA, just will never be the initiator of it. Maybe grab your hand at the end of the day to hurry back home or stare at you as long as he can while he observes your dutiful working. He’ll be shy always which keeps your love feeling young and refreshed. You’ll always be able to make him blush and unlike Ichigo, he’ll warm up to you imposing yourself on his alone time. He’ll be big on love making and planning when to have a child so it will be less spontaneous. He’ll have the baby registry and wishlists prepared, printed, and passed out to members of the Soul Society. He’ll enjoy trips to the human world to acquire new toys and trinkets for your baby.

As a baby daddy he’s almost too protective. You wonder what he’s been through as he’ll have a firm grip of your hips as you cradle your child. He’ll have a habit of looking at your baby and then between the both of you stunned at how he can see the perfect blend of your features on your child’s face. He’ll be very close to a simp honestly (which I’m a fan of) and be at your beck & call no matter the hour. Definitely the dad to tell you don’t worry about tending to the little one, keep resting cause he knows how tired you get. He’s honestly the perfect idea of a new father as he’ll be bumbling a bit but with so much to prove. I realize I kinda didn’t write red flags cause I truly see Hitsu adjusting to parenthood and a long term relationship the best. Only thing I can think is that he’ll be overtly willing to sacrifice himself for your family’s safety. So any massive issue in the Soul Society will make your heart sink a little because while he’s capable he’s been in enough life threatening predicaments to cause ample, appropriate worry. He’ll be hard to break out of working I think until your child starts schooling which could be frustrating cause he’ll overcompensate parenting in lieu of his work commitments. Overall, I think he’d be the baby daddy with the least to really worry about.

Renji: Oh lord— all tea, all shade this man will STRUGGLE. « What do you mean the baby is hungry AGAIN ? You just breastfed! WAIT DO NOT PULL YOUR TIT OUT IN PUBLIC WOMAN ! » He’ll have a hard time adjusting to your freedom as a breastfeeding mom for sure (if you choose to). Work ? What’s work? One thing you can count on is that he will absolutely commit to being a family man and even a stay at home dad. He’ll take all his PTO or even « quit » (basically will say don’t call me to help unless the Soul Society is about to die.) He will wait on you hand & foot because he can’t imagine how much your body and mind has gone through and the strength it takes to be so tired but smile and laugh with him and your kiddo. But, he may end up a bit controlling about you leaving the house without him. He’ll either become a sad puppy or an angry old man. « Baby…what do you mean you want me to stay home ? 😓🥺 » or «  Woman, what did I tell you about going out without me ? What if a crazy person tried to rob you ? » You laugh at him always being some level of dramatic but it may get annoying how clingy and worried he’ll become. You’ll have to remind him you lived this long for a reason…and plan to live longer, so he can chill out sometimes cause his worried nature worries you…you might benefit from guilt tripping him into apologizing and giving you a breather on leaving the house. But just know someone is watching over you. Renji would be a great cook or a terrible cook who improves over time. He might be great at catching the baby right when they poop or…end up shat on rushing to a sink. I really see him either being weirdly good at being a dad or definitely suffering from the learning curve.

Your baby will definitely be conceived in a wild love making, (maybe rough, passionate sex) session. And you’ll catch him blushing when he holds your baby and looks at you remembering the night you had. You’ll be the type to walk in on them sleeping crazily on the sofa, his arm instinctively holding your baby firm. He’ll be grateful to not have to jump up to go to work honestly. His biggest red flags will be being overbearing, needy, and likely requiring a lot of overt reassurance. (Which isn’t necessarily a red flag given he just will want to be a really good dad and partner.) Otherwise he’ll become a stubborn dad who will try (and fail) to « put his foot down. » Which will likely result in him sleeping on the sofa…💕

[neowinestainedress]

between us — johnny suh

title: between us

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

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

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

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

visuals

wc: 16.590k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I… I…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” He asks, brows raising.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wh-why do you care?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hum, biting the inside of your cheek.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Us?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It doesn’t work.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s you.

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

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

It’s only you and them.

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

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

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

Attention.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or so you think.

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

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

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

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

Yet, you can’t let it go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Looking for something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They snicker.

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

“Uhm, no…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, want to have fun with us?”

“Yeah…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes open to meet hers, and you regret it right away, the intensity of her gaze making you feel something you’ve never felt before. Sure, she carried around an intimidating vibe, but that kind of aura disappeared as the months passed and you grew closer, but this, this is different. She is dominant and firm, yet somehow you can always find that veil of care that characterized her.

You try to answer, afraid not receiving a verbal response will disappoint her, but your throat lets out an embarrassing whimper followed by a broken moan.

She snickers, shaking her head, and caressing your cheeks so gently it feels like she’s mocking you. “I know, doll, I know, he’s good with his mouth.”

You cry out in embarrassment but your head rolls back when Johnny sucks harshly on your clit and his hands move down to keep your pussy spread.

“Taste so good,” he mumbles pressed against your skin, the vibrations driving you insane. “So wet for us, you wanted this so bad, didn’t you? Our desperate toy, we made you wait for so long.”

You’d love to scream that yes, this took too long, but nothing comes out of your mouth. You somehow find the strength to look up, much with the help of Aaliyah who places an arm under your head for support, and you feel your stomach tighten up at the view.

Johnny looks like a starving man, messily lapping at your aching pussy, devouring you with his face buried between your legs, nose pressed against your mound. He’s so caught up he probably doesn’t even realize he tugs you closer when his arms wrap around your thighs.

Your eyes shut down and for a moment the image of the usual him crosses your mind. There’s nothing of the composed, elegant, and polite man you know, that man that your father loves so much, the same man that if he saw him right now, would have a heart attack. But you quickly push him out of your mind. You have no other choice when Aaliyah’s fingers add to the mess between your legs, and you bite your lips so hard you almost bleed.

“Too much,” you cry out, looking for mercy in her eyes when she draws them from her husband and your cunt to your face.

“Too much?” She coos with a condescending tone. “You’re bucking your hips against his face and want me to believe it’s too much?”

You groan loudly, giving up as your head falls against the mattress again. Her arm is not there anymore as she’s using it to support her body to tease you, and your neck has no more strength to watch him have the time of his life between your thighs.

But you’re not the only one groaning; Johnny’s moaning too, getting drunk in your juices and falling into madness as he tries to ease the painful boner in his tight jeans, grinding against the mattress for comfort.

“You’re so hot you’re making him hump the mattress, babydoll,” she points out. “That’s the effect you have on him. Still doubt you’re not enough?”

You don’t, not right now, you don’t want to think about it. Still, you shake your head, earning a soft, pleased smile and a “Good girl.”

It makes your stomach tighten, your toes curl, and your hands clench around the sheets. “Johnny,” you whisper, keeping your mouth parted as you try to let more air in, it’s a beg for release but you can’t find the words to let it all out.

The way you moan his name, so shyly, so weakly, a bit for the pleasure, a bit because you feel like it doesn’t belong to you —God if he finds it endearing the way you still call them Mr. and Mrs. Suh sometimes— makes his heart pound and his dick ache. You’re so fragile in their hands, right now, in his. He had wished to have you like this for so long; since his wife first brought you up and he started to look at you in a different light. Every time you spoke your mind during dinners, coming up with something that was too smart for your father to comprehend until he proposed the same point of view, only changing a few things. You deserved to be lifted on the table and eaten out like this. And the more you two talked, or your hands brushed timidly, the more he felt addicted. He couldn’t stop thinking of you.

And that was crazy, because the only woman he ever had was his wife, and never he would’ve imagined he could feel so attracted to someone that wasn’t her. And yet, the three of you are here, in the same bed, in the same mess.

When you call out his name again, he snaps out of his thoughts and looks up at you, the eye contact makes your head spin and you hold onto Aaliyah’s wrists. You feel like the orgasm will make you fly away, but before that, Johnny will kill you with just one look.

“Please,” you cry out, begging to be spared, or maybe not, maybe begging to be ended, begging for the release, begging to reach the best orgasm of your life.

“Let go, honey, come in my mouth,” his deep, sultry voice is the final strike that sends you over the edge. Body convulsing in his hold as he keeps you down and keeps sucking and licking you, eagerly swallowing your sweet cum, and moaning vulgarly against your burning hot skin.

You feel dizzy and high, and your body slumps against the soft mattress when your first orgasm ends.

“Want to see you,” you cry out, trying to lift your body and reach for him, but your limbs quickly give up.

Aaliyah chuckles, and you turn to face her. “We need to work on your stamina.”

You pout as you justify yourself, “It was too good, and I haven’t come like this in — well, never.”

Johnny chuckles, smirking proudly before he stands up at the edge of the bed. “Want to see me, honey?”

You nod with enthusiasm, biting your lips as your heart thuds in excitement. Your eyes lock with his fingers that are moving way too slow on their way to unbutton the shirt. But after what feels like an eternity, the blouse meets the floor, leaving uncovered his toned chest, arms and beautiful tattoos adorning the skin of his shoulder. But it’s not like you haven’t seen that before.

“What?” You scream annoyed when she covers your view, standing on her knees between you and her husband, giggling at your disappointment.

“He needs a hand, baby,” she chuckles and you huff again. Of course, they would fuck with you some more.

Every sound drives you more insane; you bite the inside of your cheek when you hear the belt open, and your heels tap against the mattress when the zip comes down, lastly, you groan in disbelief when you hear his pants and belt hit the floor.

“Please,” you whine, closed fists slapping against the bed.

“Fine, greedy little thing,” Johnny chuckles, and so does she as they finally give you what you want.

Your eyes and lips widen, and you gulp. “Oh… wow…”

They laugh, it’s a soft sound that creates a beautiful harmony, and even if they’re making fun of you, it warms your heart. The next thing they do is crawl to you to kiss you.

It starts with a soft peck on your lips, their mouths on yours meeting almost shyly, and then it gets heated, teeth and tongue clashing together as all of you try to have a taste of each other.

“Don’t worry, you can take it,” she reassures, kissing your lips, hands travelling down your stomach until it reaches your throbbing clit and starts moving in circles, making you gasp against their lips.

“I don’t think I can,” you mumble, glossy eyes looking into his first and then moving to hers. “Maybe you should.”

“Oh, I do, trust me,” she replies, smirking before kissing your neck.

“Tonight is about you,” Johnny reminds you, doing the same as she’s doing but on the other side. “It will fit.”

“Mhh,” you mumble, feeling weak and overwhelmed. 

“Let me make sure it will fit,” she sings happily, now taking the spot between your legs.

You moan against Johnny’s mouth when her finger pushes inside you, humming in delight as she feels how wet you are. You can’t see her, eyes closed as you get lost in the kiss, but just her presence is enough to make you tremble.

“Look at you, it’s so easy to turn you into a puddle,” she teases, watching as you can barely kiss Johnny back. Something about the kiss you and her husband are sharing makes her head spin. There’s something about you, something new, something they’ve never had before. You’re so delicate, like a flower, and your petals fall perfectly between them. Just like right now, she’s sure there’s nothing in your brain, and yet your lips follow Johnny’s, messily meeting him in that slow, yet passionate kiss.

Your body reacts so nicely to their hands running on your skin, cupping and groping at your soft boobs to stimulate you everywhere as she works the second finger inside of you. They are experts at what they’re doing, sending shivers all over your body and pushing you further down into that haze.

“You’re taking my fingers so well, you’re so eager to feel Johnny inside, aren’t you?”

You mumble a reply as you finally pull away from Johnny, a thread of spit still connecting your lips, but you don’t notice until he breaks it off. “Want to feel him.”

They snicker, and then their lips are on you; Johnny’s busy leaving pecks on your neck before he pays attention to your nipples, and Aaliyah is focused on kissing your inner thigh and tummy as her fingers still curl inside of you.

“I don’t think you’re ready, yet, pretty girl,” she hums, curling the tips up and hitting your sensitive spot. That action makes your hips buck from the mattress and causes a louder moan to slip through your tortured plump lips. “So wet, dripping all over my fingers. I bet you taste so good, maybe I’ll get a taste one day, uhm?”

You squeeze your eyes, uselessly trying to calm your breath, it’s pathetic how fast your chest is moving in erratic movements, and how your hips squirm to search for more, even if one of their hands is on your stomach to keep you in place. You don’t reply but you internally scream that yes, you want her. You want to feel her soft, full lips on you, you wonder if she’s eager like Johnny or more meticolous, if she moans loudly or keeps quiet. You don’t know, but the mere idea makes a growl roll from your lips.

“She’s good with her fingers, isn’t she?” Johnny’s deep voice hits your ear, and you feel your body melt. Your head moves quickly to agree as you turn to the side to face him. He’s staring at you with a sly smirk on his face and before you can stop him, you feel his long fingers on your clit. You bite back a moan and try to plead with your eyes but it’s useless. Neither of them wants to stop.

“What, princess? We have to make sure you’re ready to take my dick,” he whispers, shushing your senseless sounds with a kiss.

You bite his lips by mistake when she pushes a third finger inside, eyes wide both in surprise and in a silent apology to Johnny.

“Too much,” you cry out.

But she tsks, shaking her head. “You have to be all stretched out for him, doll. You don’t want to break, do you?”

You shake your head before it rolls back, and your face contorts more. You don’t want to break but you feel like you might explode from this alone. She’s incredibly skilled in what she’s doing, it’s like her fingers are pumping and curling following the rhythm of a melody only she can hear, they hit you deep and fast, not giving you time to recover from each profound push.

“Just a few pumps and then he’ll fuck you exactly like you want,” she encourages you, her dark brown eyes looking softly at you, curling up in a sweet smile.

It takes you less than a few pumps to come undone, you don’t even see the orgasm coming when it washes over you, knocking air out of your lungs. It’s her two fingers pumping into you, curling and scissoring, after she pulled the third out to move faster, it’s Johnny’s thumb on your clit, flicking it swiftly, and his lips on your nipple, sucking harshly. But mostly, it’s them, the warmth of their bodies wrapping around you, intoxicating you like a drug that takes its sweet time to kick in.

Your body shakes, trapped between the mattress and their big bodies, and you feel like the room is spinning around you.

“You come so easily,” she mocks, pulling her fingers out once she’s sure you’re done, and slapping your clit, making you hiss.

Easily. If that was nothing to her…

“Naughty girl,” Johnny scoffs, pulling away from you and you whine when their hot bodies are not on you anymore.

You sigh, thinking since when you’re so pathetic and needy? You truly can’t last more than ten seconds without having them all over you?

“If you were ours that wouldn’t have gone unpunished,” he says, settling between your legs and spreading them apart. You barely noticed them moving around, already too far gone to be aware of what is going on around you. His intense gaze makes you shiver and more cum oozes out of your already messy, wet cunt. Johnny takes a deep breath, getting lost in the sight of you, your face is wrecked, your lips parted, your eyes watery, your boobs are heaving, and your hips are moving around, pleading him to fuck you. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, honey.”

The compliment makes your heart swell and you weakly smile back at him.

“Come on, fuck her already,” Aaliyah encourages him, pushing his hips closer as she stands at his side, “she deserves it.”

You gasp under your breath when his hands wrap around the back of your knees and, with a strong tug, he pulls your body against his, the tip of his dick slapping against your core. He moves one hand down to grab the base and pushes his cock against your slit, it feels like forever as he rubs his leaking tip against your clit and every now and then pushes against your opening that’s fluttering, begging him to fill you up already.

“Johnny,” Aaliyah scolds sternly, looking at him up and down, and her dominance at the moment makes you shiver and moan, shamelessly. You try to close your legs to hide the effect it had on you but they both push them open, and somehow, the way they’re not paying attention to you, eyes locked into each others, and still have you under control, makes you whine even louder. “Stop teasing her,” she orders, cupping his chin and pulling him closer. “Don’t you see how badly she wants you? Dripping on the sheets like a kitten in heat?”

You frown at her comment even if well, she’s right. You’re sure you’ve never been this wet your entire life.

“As you wish, milady,” he jokes and in a second, he’s inside of you.

“Fuck,” you scream at the stretch, even if he didn’t bottom in, you still feel like you can barely breathe. “Oh, shit.”

“Damn, honey, I’m not even halfway in,” he comments, stopping and looking at you with a worried face. 

“No, I’m fine, I was — too caught up,” too caught up in you two and I barely remember my name.

Aaliyah snickers, shaking her head. “You’re so cute, doll,” she hums, caressing your thigh, “just relax and take him all, uhm? He’s going to fuck you so well,” she says before addressing her husband, “right, Johnny?”

Johnny nods, smirking playfully before sinking further until his entire length is in.

Your head rolls back while pleasure dissipates inside your body, he fills you perfectly, stretching you so nicely. You feared it was going to be more painful, but it feels so good, and the pairs of hands soothing your skin are helping you calm down.

Johnny pulls you closer, beginning to slowly move his hips, hissing under his breath while your walls flutter around him so nicely, your wet, warm hole welcoming him with ease now that you’re not tense anymore.

And then it happens, for the first time that night, they kiss. You bite your lips with force as your eyes bore holes in them. Their lips move on their own, doing what they have been doing for a life now, and their hands pull each other close. You’ve seen them in similar circumstances before, but this, this, is different. Johnny is kissing his wife while he’s buried deep inside of you, one hand on the small of her back, the other keeping you spread, her hand tangled in his long, brown locks and the other intertwined with yours at your side.

Everything is oddly romantic and erotic at the same time. Everything makes perfect sense and no sense at all. But it’s fine. Tonight, you don’t want to think, you don’t want to worry, you want to roll around in this mess of limbs and skin and feel. Feel alive and loved. Even if it might be an illusion.

“Fuck, baby,” they moan when they pull apart, giggling at the way they’re in sinch even if for different things. Their eyes are on you again and while Johnny praises how good you feel, she praises how well you’re taking him.

And your heart jumps around while a dumb, drunk-in-love smile plasters on your face. But it swiftly drops when she moves up again to whisper something in Johnny’s ear. You try to study his expression, something flickers in his eyes, and they darken even more, you even feel his dick twitch inside of you, but you can’t make out anything of what she says.

Then Johnny’s hips come to an alt, and your throat dries.

“We were thinking you got to come two times already,” he starts, licking his lips, “and while I’m having fun with you, you will agree we kinda neglected Aaliyah, right?”

You nod quickly, eyes moving between the couple in swift motions.

“So, what do you think about turning around and eating her out while I keep fucking you?”

It’s like your brain sparks up and shuts down at the same time at his words. You nod eagerly, mumbling ‘yes’ while a small, fucked out smile creeps on your face.

“You want me, baby?” She asks, voice slurring out of her lips like velvet.

“Yes, please, want you so bad,” you reply, body buzzing in excitement as you take her body in.

You don’t have time to complain when Johnny pulls out of you, he swiftly turns you around, strong arms moving you as if you’re nothing for him, and given all the weights he lifts at the gym, it is nothing. Your body moves on its own, ass perking up while your face lowers down, close to the soft, perfumed sheets but not enough that you can’t use your lips.

And there she is, resting against the headboard with her legs spread right in front of your face. Her pussy’s dripping, clit throbbing in anticipation, and you envy how good she has been to hold it back for so long.

And even if your eyes are curious and sparkle with lust, she can sense your hesitation. “Come on, don’t be shy,” she encourages you, one hand gently cupping the back of your head, massaging your scalp, “don’t tell me it’s your first time.”

Well… not exactly, but you weren’t a pro at this either.

“Oh, you’re always on the receiving end?” She snickers, looking down at you. Eyes piercing you, pinning you down in your place. She has this thing, it’s like magic, one look and you’re right where she wants you, how she wants you.

“Mostly…” you admit shyly, looking down again.

“Well, time to change that,” she says before pushing you against her pussy.

Your lips move shily at first, it’s almost as if you’re testing the ground. Kitten licks are all you give her, licking up her sweet cum while your nose rubs against her clit. You breathe deep, getting lost in her aroma.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” she praises, hand still caressing you but not pressing you down. If it was somebody else —even Johnny— she wouldn’t have hesitated to do so, but with you, she wants to take it slow and guide you through it.

You moan against her when Johnny pushes in again, this time he doesn’t wait before his hips start slamming against you, but he’s not going too fast. And the pleasure he’s fucking into you urges you to do better. You try to do what Johnny did to you before and every other person you’ve been with, and be better than the other times you’ve eaten pussy before.

“Yes, pretty girl, focus on the clit,” she instructs you, moving her hand down to caress your neck, and when you comply, a deep guttural moan rips from her throat. She hums in delight and your heart flips with pride. “Use your tongue.”

You hesitately stick your pink muscle out and poke it at her entrance but she stops you with a click of her tongue, “No, doll, up and down, come on, you can do it.” When your tongue starts doing that, licking her from the bottom of her entrance to the top, flicking your tip right under the hood of her clit, her legs shake and she pushes down a hiss. “So, so good, babydoll.”

“Shit, you’re so hot,” Johnny moans behind you, his hands holding tightly to your waist as he fucks you on his dick. He never imagined he’d be so turned on by this, but fuck, this is the dream. Seeing his wife’s face while you pleasure her, hearing her moan because of somebody else mouth, especially yours, makes him feel something he never felt before.

“You’re so good, doll. Such a fast learner, aren’t you? So eager to please us. So eager to be a good girl for us,” she moans, her fingers inevitably clenching around the roots of your hair when you suck hard on her clit. You seem to have found your scheme, keeping her pussy spread while your tongue runs on her labia and then your lips wrap around her clit, swift flicks of your tongue and shy hands testing what’s better.

You nod against her without pulling away, you could, but you don’t want to. You want to get drunk in her juices, you want to feel her thighs clench around your head —even if she’s trying hard not to do so— you want to hear her deep, intoxicating moans, you want her to pull your hair harder.

“Yes, you are,” she coos, meeting your half-lidded eyes, pushing down a guttural moan when a lonely tear rolls down your cheek, “you’re such a greedy little thing. One person it’s not enough for you, you need more. Is this enough or do you need even more, ugh? Bet you’d love it if we both fucked you at the same time.” Her condescending tone sends your brain into a spiral, you feel empty and yet overflowing, but you can’t reply. Johnny’s fucking you mercilessly now, big dick hitting you deep, striking all the right spots, and even if you’re giving something to her, you have zero control. You’re at their mercy, small and powerless, flushed between their bodies as you somehow do something like a robot.

“Loving eating her pussy while I fuck you hard?” This time is Johnny the one teasing you, his voice deeper but he gives no sign of slowing down, even if the pleasure is getting to him, you know it from his grunts and the way his hips falter every now and then. “Bet it feels so good to be muddy in our hands and have no worries in the world, right? You’re perfect here, nobody to impress,” he moans, leaning closer, his lips brushing your ear while his body presses you closer against the bed, “no father to make happy. Just us. Honestly,” he groans, pulling back, squeezing your hips before driving all the way in with a decisive thrust, sending you forward, “he’d have a heart attack if he saw you like this.”

You whine, your laments muffled by Aaliyah’s body, and you feel like you could explode. Is this why you like being with them so much? Because the fact that they like you so much proves your father wrong? The very people that he worships are busy worshipping his daughter while he trashes her around. But you don’t want to think of him, one, it could ruin your orgasm, two, you have them, and that’s all that matters. And to be honest, you love being with them so much because they value you and appreciate you for who you truly are.

You pull away, letting your fingers take the place of your mouth, rubbing on her clit while you talk, “want you, want more, please.”

“More? What’s more than this?” Johnny asks, snickering.

“Sit on my face?” You ask shily while you look up at her, cum and spit dripping down your chin, eyes glossy with tears.

She loses herself in the sight of you. You’re perfect even if you look like a mess, even if your eyes roll back and your lips part open when Johnny hits your sweet spot another time. “Oh… let’s not pull your luck too much tonight, hum?”

“But I —”

“But you, nothing,” she shushes you up, two fingers on your mouth. “You’re being so good, giving me pleasure while you take him so well. Just keep going.” She’d love to sit on your face, only being able to watch your eyes slowly blank as her hips roll against you, while your pretty hands wrap around her thighs as it slowly gets harder to breathe, but you’re not ready for that, yet.

You give up, starting where you stopped. But soon enough you’re whining again, “No, please, please, Sir,” you cry out, looking back to meet Johnny’s gaze for a split second.

He seems a bit startled by the way you address him, but he quickly shakes the surprise off to tease you with a condescending tone. “What’s wrong, honey? I thought you wanted more?” The pout that accompanies his words makes your stomach twist in a knot. You did want more, but the more was being smashed underneath them, not having his skilled fingers rub quick circles on your over-sensitive clit.

“I — I don’t want to come again,” you cry out.

“Oh, you won’t,” she speaks instead. “Don’t get too greedy and take it,” she orders, cupping your chin before pushing you between her legs again. Her patience could only last this long before she would snap.

“Right, because you can take it, right?” Johnny asks, tilting his head to get a peak of your flustered face. You’re burning up, sweat pearling your skin, the shorter hair sticking to your forehead, eyes blinking out tears of pleasure, and body squirming while you try so hard to keep focus on the only thing you have to do.

You doubt you can, but you still nod, moans getting choked up in your throat and against her cunt as you try to use your tongue and mouth the best you can even if control is slipping out of you more and more.

Fighting the orgasm is probably worse than keeping focus. Your stomach is upside down, and you feel all your nerves tense up, every single touch makes you jolt up and you know your throat will be sore by the end of the night for all the moans you’re letting out.

And you slip, eyes closing and mouth getting lazy as your body limply gets slammed between them.

“Hey,” you’re startled when her palm meets your face in quick, light slaps to wake you up, “don’t you fucking dare,” it’s the only warning that slips from her mouth, so sternly it should make you obey on the spot, but it only makes it harder for you to hold back. “Put that mouth to good use, come on.”

You don’t have a choice —not that you would want to do anything else— when she forces your face down again, this time grinding her hips against you to help you out, or honestly, to fuck herself against you because you’re not doing so much anymore.

She scoffs, “You’re being so good for Johnny, bet your pussy is sucking him in so well, dripping down to his balls and clenching tight, you can’t do one thing for me?”

You gasp for air when she yanks you back by the end of your hair, letting you breathe again, watching the tears fall freely from your pretty eyes. Your lashes are clumped together, and some mascara stained your cheeks; so, so pretty, she could stare at you forever.

“I can. I — I promise, I’ll be your good girl, I’ll give you what you want, fuck,” you mumble, words tangling on your tongue.

You’re so fucked out that spit is dripping down your chin, mixing with her cum, and she can’t fight the urge to smear it on your face.

Aaliyah could come by that sight only. To think when she first saw you were shily standing in a corner, trying to have less attention possible on you, stuttering your words at the speech your father made you hold, and almost fell down the stage. And now, you’re a mess in their bed, far away from home after you followed them blindly.

“Good, then use your fingers, come on,” she orders, biting her lips as you struggle to push your body up to finger her. This is exciting, with Johnny it had always been a fight for dominance, but with you, everything works perfectly, you fit between them with ease.

Johnny’s hands help you stand up, but he can’t deny how hot he finds the way you can’t control your body. He wishes he could see your face, you must be so pretty all messed up, but he’ll use his imagination.

“Come on, honey, fuck her, she took such good care of you,” Johnny encourages you, and that’s all you need to push two fingers inside of her. Her warm walls welcome you with ease, cum coating them until it drips down on your wrist.

Aaliyah’s face twists in an expression of pleasure as soon as you start curling your fingers. You’re definitely better with them than you are with your mouth, but it’s fine, there will be time to practice if you ever want to stick around.

“Good girl,” she praises, caressing your cheek gently before pulling you in a kiss. Doing so, Johnny slips out of you, and you whine at the loss, but soon enough he’s fucking into you again.

“Won’t — won’t last long,” you whimper, crying more as you feel heavier.

Johnny hums, pushing you down again and you lazily go back to lapping on her pussy while your fingers keep moving.

“Come here,” you hear him say, but he’s not talking to you. You can’t see, but you know they’re kissing because you feel smaller and more trapped as their bodies get closer, and then the wet sounds of their lips hit your ears. Their moans mix in their mouth, and you can feel the desperation they’re sharing as their teeth clash together.

You want to kiss them too, but you have other things to worry about, like the orgasm you can’t hold in anymore.

“Want to come, please,” you beg, tears adding to the mess between her legs as you try to gasp for more air.

They pull away from the kiss, bringing their attention to you another time.

“You want to come?” You nod swiftly. She’s sure you’re not doing it on purpose but the way your big eyes are looking up at her and your lips tremble, make her heart warm up. You’re so precious. “Then don’t stop fucking me,” she orders, voice low that causes your stomach to twist again. “Don’t stop being a perfect, little, mindless fuckdoll for us.”

Johnny growls, rolling his head back, “Fuck, stop talking to her like that, she’s squeezing me.”

Aaliyah chuckles darkly, sweetly mockingly caressing your wet cheeks. “You want me to stop talking to her because you can’t handle a sweet pussy sucking you in?”

He rolls his eyes and throws his head back, scoffing at her comment.

“It’s not my fault she likes it when I talk down to her,” she coos, looking at him but her words hit you deep. It’s so humiliating the way they’re talking about you as if you’re not here, and yet, it only makes you wetter. “I could do so much more, but I doubt she can take it.”

I can. You scream, but it stays inside your brain, no words can come out of your mouth anymore.

They both giggle at your broken moan that comes out as a reply.

“No thoughts left in that little mind of yours, uhm?” Johnny teases, his fingers playing with your nipples making you cry out more.

Your head is abandoned on her thigh, drool dripping out of the corner of your lips while your fingers pump in and out in tired, messy movements. You’re so far gone that she has to help you fuck her by guiding your wrist.

“Except how good it feels to be surrounded by us. You love it when we trap you between us and make you feel small, don’t you? Bet you’d love it even more if I fucked your mouth with a toy while he fucked your pussy, or maybe the other way around.”

You yelp when someone smacks your ass, you don’t care to figure out if it’s him or her. It doesn’t matter, it only adds to the pleasure and dizziness.

“Or maybe we could each take a hole and stuff you til you break,” Johnny giggles lowly. “Your tight ass and pussy spread by us.”

“Please,” you cry out. Please make me come and please do it. Please fuck me at the same time, from both ends and until I’m nothing between you. But it stays inside, they get it anyway, like they get all of you.

“C’mere,” Johnny chuckles as he manoeuvres you, lifting your body and pushing you closer to his wife. You’re kneeling now, body slumped against hers while he presses you flat, your fingers still moving inside of her while you moan in the crook of her neck. It feels warm, almost romantic, and you feel so small. 

The hand that is not helping you fuck her, wraps around your waist and starts rubbing circles on your burning hot skin, meeting Johnny’s that doing the same.

“Look at you, doll, you’ve been so good. What do you say, John, should she come?” Aaliyah’s voice is particularly sweet, reaching your ear like a faint melody and you feel farther and farther from your body.

“I think she deserves it,” Johnny replies, kissing your neck to distract you from his hand slipping down to your clit.

Your teeth sink into her skin, making her hiss, not in pain but most in surprise, and your face wets even more while a loud sob rips from your throat.

“Come on, princess,” she whispers close to you, leaving pecks on top of your head, “be a good girl and come with us.”

You don’t let them tell you twice when their pace fastens and all the stimuli get to your head one last time. This orgasm is like an explosion that leaves you trembling between their bodies, whimpering and moaning as the violent waves shock you to the core.

“Fuck, so fucking tight,” Johnny murmurs under his breath, hips slamming messily against your ass as he chases his orgasm. He’s caught up in your face before his eyes fall on his wife’s pussy, you stopped fucking her and she’s trying to rub her fingers on her clit, if you weren’t so far gone, brain mush in your skull, she would’ve said something, but she knows is no use now.

You’re collapsed on her body when your eyes trail between her legs, watching in awe as Johnny’s fingers fuck her fast and his thumb rubs her clit as he keeps pouding into you. Their moans are louder as they approach their release and her head falls against the board of the bed while her hands clench around your waist to hold onto something.

And you come again. An unexpected fourth orgasm washes over you, ass arching up and nails sinking into her thigh as you feel as life is being sucked away from you, and that’s what pushes them over the edge, your soft, broken whimpers mixing with theirs and your low mumbles of their names, it’s not Mr. and Mrs. Suh, is Johnny and Aaliyah now, only for you.

More curses fill the air before everything comes to a stop, Johnny’s body falling on yours for a second before he forces himself to pull out and roll to the side.

“Hey, it’s alright, it’s alright. Come here,” she whispers, soothing you as she pulls your body closer, hugging you and caressing your back and hair. You’re still shaking and crying, and your hands wrap quickly around her. “You’re fine, we’re here. It’s over.”

Soon after you feel Johnny’s hands too, and then his soothing words. “You’ve been so good, princess. Was it fun?”

His question is left unanswered, and they understand it will take you a while to start talking again. So they keep whispering sweet words to your ears while their hands calm you down with gentle touches. You don’t remember how long it takes before you fall into a deep slumber, but you know you feel a sense of peace you never felt before.

When you wake up, the clock hits midnight, you’re alone in the bed but you’re cleaned up and you’re dressed in a white shirt that reaches your thighs.

Somehow your legs carry your body out of the room and down the stairs where you take a sigh of relief seeing them laughing as they sit at the table. They’re dressed again, Johnny’s hair is brushed in its place, and her braids are pulled up in a bun again, they look as composed as usual but more familiar.

“Hey, you’re up?” Johnny is the first one who sees you and welcomes you with a sweet smile.  

“We were starving. We wanted you to eat but you fell asleep, and for how intense it was we figured you were going to sleep until morning,” Aaliyah explains, moving a stool so you could sit between them, tapping on the seat to signal you to reach them.

You push your feet forward, legs wobbly and heart still racing, but this time is not the orgasm. You’re still lost in the haze, but now you’re fully aware of what happened, and you don’t know how to act in the aftermath.

“Are you alright? You stopped talking, it worried us a bit,” she says, lifting her hand to caress your nape after she tucked your hair behind your ear.

You nod, shoulders dropping as the tension disappears at her touch. “I’m fine. I guess it was a lot, it never happened before.”

Johnny comes back to you with a glass of water and some bowls with different food, leaving you a choice between fruits, something sweet, and something salty.

“Thanks,” you reply, grabbing the glass and gulping it in one go. “Honestly, I’m not really hungry,” you say, eyes diverting their gazes, there’s still a bit of worry behind them and you’re not used to people caring so much for you, especially after sex. You don’t think you ever saw a one-night-stand the morning after, but not even your exes cared much about how you felt after sex.

“No? Do you need something else?” Johnny asks, a caring tone filling his words, and the look in his eyes is different than all the other times before.

You look around, shaking your head, your throat is dry again and from the corner of your eyes, you see her filling the glass again. You smile shyly before drinking it. “I… I don’t want to sleep alone,” you confess, biting your lips and playing with the hem of the glass in your hands.

They smile, hands cupping yours before holding tight. “We had no intention of leaving you alone,” they say at the same time, making you smile.

“A bit paranoid, aren’t you?” Johnny jokes while Aaliyah leaves to put the food back in its place. You might be awake but it’s clear as daylight that you’re still tired and want to sleep.

“Mhh,” you mumble. Your eyes lift to look at Johnny and you smile. He looks beautiful, the faint silver light of the moonlight paiting his cheekbones and hair.

“And still not very talkative,” she adds when she comes back, a soft look in her eyes. “Come on, there’s no need to talk, let’s get you to bed.” She stretches a hand out and you quickly grab it, jumping off the chair but regretting it when your legs make it known they’re not back just yet.

You gasp when two arms wrap around you and lift you up, and soon you’re met with Johnny’s eyes. You smile at him before locking eyes with her who’s following behind and quickly is at your side.

“Thanks,” you whisper because he’s carrying you but mostly, for the night you spent. You decide you will worry tomorrow, for now, you feel full, they made you feel wanted, and dare to say, even loved. It’s all that matters.

“You have to be grateful, he stopped carrying me upstairs a long time ago,” she jokes and Johnny scoffs, “Liar.”

And soon the three of you are in the bed again, the dirty duvet is not on the mattress anymore and a thinner blanket covers you. You’re in the middle, pressed between their bodies while they leave kisses on your face, and whisper sweet words to you, their hands intertwined on your stomach while their thumbs rub small circles on your skin.

And as sleep takes over you again, you think that there’s no other place you’d rather be, if not between them.

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

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

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Met His Match. || Soap MacTavish (Collab)

A collab with @crashtestbunny.

Find us on AO3!

Words: 3.5K~ Pairing: Sex Fiend!Reader x One Night Stand!Soap CW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, smut smut smut, dubcon elements, unprotected piv, oral sex (f!receiving), public handjob (m!receiving), overstimulation, bathroom sex, sadism, dom/sub, rough sex, sub John "Soap" MacTavish, forced ejaculation, semi-public sex, whining, light exhibitionism, power play, dry orgasm. other tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, dating app, hook-up, one night stand, mean reader, exhaustion, walk of shame summary: Johnny gets fucked. a/n: Inspired loosely by my "It's a Match!" fic... but so much fucking worse. P.S. Not beta-read, we die like soap.

Friday night. 6 PM.

You just got home from work and after making yourself a quick meal, you threw yourself on the couch.

Reaching for your phone you click on the Tinder icon on your home screen and immediately begin swiping away at the men that come across your screen.

You're not being too picky. Still a bit picky, but not too much. It doesn't matter that much what they look like... so much as what you feel once you see their picture.

You're not on this app for the romance, after all. No.

You're tired and frustrated from your week and all you want is to fuck a man. In fact, you want to fuck a man so hard he leaves your flat in the morning looking (and feeling) like a cheap whore.

You'll know what kind of man you're in the mood for when you see him.

Left.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Left.

That's when a man with the biggest blue eyes you've ever seen comes across your screen. You stop the mindless swiping immediately and just stare at him.

You can already imagine the way those blue eyes would look up at you from between your thighs, and how much better his face will look when they're glassy and he's covered in sweat and drooling down his chin...

Oh yeah, he's what you're looking for alright.

So, you scroll down to read what his bio has to say.

If that bio is anything to go off of, he's also looking for something casual. After all, he mentions fingering and being ridden in the same paragraph. Perfect.

You Swipe Right on him and your phone immediately buzzes, announcing that you matched. Sweet.

Johnny texts you first. How... cute.

Johnny: hi beautiful x Johnny: how are you doing?

Oh, sweet summer child... what does he think this is? Small talk that'll lead onto a date?

You: doing good. You: how's your night looking?

It takes a minute before his reply comes.

Johnny: very free Johnny: wanna hook up?

There we go, Johnny-boy. That's the spirit.

You: would love that You: do you know that one bar around the corner from the post office? Johnny: of course You: meet there in an hour? Johnny: i'll be there Johnny: i'll be wearing blue

You can't help but chuckle... he won't be wearing much of anything soon enough.

-

Finding him at the bar is extremely easy because the bar is not packed, albeit still pretty busy. But that's not why you picked it. You picked it because it's only a short car ride from your flat.

Johnny is leaning on the bar, as promised, wearing a dark blue t-shirt, dark wash jeans, and a pair of simple black boots.

You approach him from behind, wearing a simple black dress. Not one of those flashy, slinky club types, just a regular dress. You know what you came here to get.

"Hey." You greet him casually and he turns to look at you, his hand wrapped around a lowball glass with some drink inside. It's clear... so either tequilla or vodka.

When he turns you realize three things immediately: 1) He lied about his height. He's definitely not 6ft tall, but 5ft10 at the most; 2) He's built like a brick shithouse, impossibly wide shoulders with large, beefy arms... So he wasn't lying about his 'Athletic' build; and 3) He has a fucking mohawk.

You can already imagine the way he'd look, your legs over his shoulders, as you squeezed his head between your thighs while his tongue lapped at your folds... Fuck, you're horny.

"...nice. What are you drinking? I'll buy." You catch the end of what he said, the beginning probably a greeeting, and a compliment, and, now an offer of a drink.

You try to shrug casually and seem unbothered. You decide to humour him. If he wants to play the gentleman part and pretend this is a date, you can play along.

"Whiskey. Neat." You murmur in reply as you slot yourself next to him against the bar, your thigh brushing against his as he orders and pays for your drink.

"So, a soldier, huh? What's that like?" You muse as you take a sip of your drink, watching him take a sip of his, his throat bobbing as he swallows. Oh, how you'd love to wrap a hand around...

"I like it. Always ken I wanted to be one. Tried to sign early and everythin'. I like keepin' active and I'm good at what I do..."

He continued talking, but you tuned him out, eyes locked on his mouth, watching how his lips pushed and pulled for each word, his white teeth in a neat row behind and his wet tongue sometimes peeking out.

He talked a lot. He talked... too much.

"Let me cut you off right there." You interrupted him, causing him to shut his mouth and stare at you. "Care to have this conversation between my legs, gorgeous?"

Johnny stares at you with impossibly wide eyes, like what you just said is the most bizarre thing he's ever heard. His left brow, right below an obvious scar, twitches, a sign he's interested. "...When?" He asks in a murmur.

"Right now." You reply with a head tilt.

The blue-eyed Scot simply nods eagerly and knocks back the contents of his drink into his mouth.

-

"That's it... That's fucking it-" You croon as you buck your hips into his mouth, your back pressed against the wall, the hem of your dress curled up and tucked into the elastic band of your bra.

Johnny's on his knees on the floor of the cubicle, his tongue lapping at your slick cunt like he's a prisoner on death row and that's his last meal request and he insists on enjoying it.

One of his hands grips your right thigh, squeezing it and keeping it steady, the other alternating between rubbing your clit and going around the back of your hip to squeeze one of your arse cheeks, pulling you deeper into his mouth whenever he licks and sucks your clit.

His blue eyes are locked on yours and they look just as good as you had imagined they would as his moist tongue curls to gather some of your slick and swallow it down, to taste as much of it as he can.

He's such a fucking munch, his tongue parting your folds and diving as deep into your hole as he can get it, before sliding back up to meet your clit, giving it a greedy suck.

There's a smug smirk on his lips, even as they're buried in your cunny, and a chuckle falls from them too while he thrashes his head side to side like a dog playing tug-of-war, nearly blowing raspberries on your clit and causing you to squirm against him, more expletives falling from your mouth.

You know what he's thinking. He thinks he's in charge. He thinks he's doing a good job fucking you. Oh, how wrong he is. And you're about to show him that.

"Wipe that fucking smirk off your face, sweetheart." You demand as you push his hands off your body and grab onto his stupid fucking mohawk with both hands like a handle to grind yourself against his face.

His eyes widen, but the sight of you using his mouth, his tongue, to get yourself off, hips bucking and dragging across his chin and tongue, lips and nose is enough to get him riled up.

He can't help himself, his hands finding a spot on the floor and his own legs spreading apart, allowing him to half-grind his clothed cock against the tile.

His head bobs eagerly against you, his nose buried in your mons, the flat of his tongue rubbing over your clit, his beard prickling against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, crotch and folds.

Your legs are trembling on either side of his head, but you don't stop riding yourself against his tongue, your head falling back against the tiled wall behind you, the pitch of your voice getting higher and higher.

The way the flat of his tongue presses to your clit causes your whole body to shake, your skin warming up more and more to the touch. The coil in your stomach is getting tighter by the second and your breath, as well as your moans, are ragged and long.

Your hips buck and thrash and your head hangs low suddenly as your climax crashes onto you, leaving you breathing fast and deep, your eyes fluttering a bit as you look down to find Johnny kneeling between your thighs, his tongue still softly sliding upward, spreading your folds open and swallowing your come deep into his mouth.

"That's it, drink up, I'm not giving you water anytime soon, sweetheart." You tell him, noticing how his eyes have gone glassy, a wet spot having formed in his dark jeans.

Filthy mutt got off on having you fuck yourself on his tongue...

-

Having pulled Johnny off you and fixed your dress back into place, you called an Uber and then dragged the bulky man out of the bar by the hand, marching ahead of him toward the pavement, under a street lamp, to wait for your ride.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you guided your mouth up Johnny's chin toward his mouth, locking lips with him, your tongue seeking his out.

His beard and mouth are both still soaked with your come, he smells of it, and tastes of it too, and with each push and pull of your tongues as you seek each other out, you get more of a taste of yourself.

You only broke the kiss once the Uber arrived, your phone having pinged with a warning, and a car having pulled to the side of the road not far from the two of you.

You and Johnny piled in together and while he scooted all the way across the backseat toward the other door, you slid up next to him as you two greeted the driver.

You didn't bother with a seatbelt (neither did Johnny) and since the driver didn't seem too keen on chit-chat, you allowed yourself to drape a leg across Johnny's lap, while his arm wrapped around your waist.

Your fingers slid over his thigh toward the darkened patch of denim on his crotch, and, with your leg (and the music playing from the speakers) as cover, you slowly undid the fly and button.

"What are ye-" Johnny murmured as he glanced at you with raised brows and wide eyes, like an innocent little puppy.

"Sh-shh..." You hissed as you kissed his cheek, playing the part of a loving girlfriend, or an overly affectionate date, for your driver's sake, you slowly slid your fingers through the open zipper, fishing for his cock amidst the wet fabric of his boxer briefs.

The pretty boy was already at half-mast again, even after having already come once, and your hand quickly wrapped around it as you began stroking it.

Johnny thighs trembled and his legs kicked out a bit as he felt your warm hand wrap around his sensitive member, and he looked away, out of the window, eyelids fluttering, eyebrows scrunched, and a hard bite on his bottom lip.

His cock began steadily throbbing in your hand, hardening and growing more with each languid stroke of your hand around him. He's thick. Much thicker than you expected him to be. You can feel your fingers struggling to fully wrap around him.

Sliding your palm up, you slowly rub over the hooded tip, which draws a squeak from the back of his throat, his chest heaving, and his stomach being sucked in.

"Control yourself..." You whispered in his ear which, making sure to shoot a glance forward at the Uber driver, who seemed focus on the road.

In response, you received yet another soft groan and a hiss through clenched teeth, Johnny's head lulling toward you, his forehead leaning against your temple. "Feels... fuck... I can't... you're... ah-"

"Feels good?" You murmur in his ear as you kiss his bearded jaw lightly, feeling him buck a bit against your hand, causing your thigh to bounce on his lap.

"Hm... Mhm..." Johnny grunted. "Fuck... Steamin' Jesus..." He whined brokenly as your hand kept stroking his length fully, up and down, at a slow, languid pace.

You'd draw back the foreskin, exposing the bulbous head, before drawing it up again as your hand climbed up to rub against the tip for a moment, only to roll back down once more.

Whenever the car would drive past a street lamp, the yellow-toned light would flutter briefly over Johnny's exposed cock, and draw your attention right to his pink, bulbous tip, overstimulated and angry, leaking shiny beads of pre-cum.

"Sh-Shh..." You cooed at him again, enjoying the broken sounds of pleasure he'd let out through clenched teeth, the way his cock would throb and twitch in your hand, and how the muscular man next to you vibrated with tension.

Oh, how you loved to make men break under your hand, and, even more so, how much you loved to make men like him break. A soldier, a strong man, used to dominating... How silly of him to think he had any power here...

It takes little time for Johnny to suddenly twitch and thrash next to you, his breath picking up and becoming ragged and wet, like he's struggling to control himself into being quiet...

You look up at him just in time, finding the way his head falls back on the headrest of his seat, while he grunted under his breath and hissed through his teeth, again, and again, his eyes fluttering shut as he experienced a dry orgasm, only the tiniest beads of cum slipping down to your fingers right below the head.

Just in time too, because the Uber pulled over less than a minute later, the Uber driver looking back at you and Johnny. "We're here, Miss." He told you politely.

"Thank you, Jared. I'll be sure to leave you a 5-star rating and a good tip." You replied to the driver as you slipped your leg off Johnny's lap and scooted closer to the other door.

After opening the door, you turned again and grabbed Johnny by his shirt collar, your fingers hooking themselves onto the inside of it and grazing his dog tags hanging around his neck.

Smirking, you slip them from the confines of the shirt and then twirl the ball chain around your forefinger like a lead, pulling it taut, which causes Johnny to audibly whine.

"C'mon, Johnny." You ordered as you tugged him forward, causing him to scoot forward, ducking his head to follow you out of the car, his movements languid and slow, his head still cloudy from the recent orgasm.

-

"Fuck, yes! Fuck!" You whine, your head falling back, your hair sticking to your forehead and your nape.

"Steamin' fuckin' Jesus... Fuck..." Johnny groans, his own head rolling back on the mattress of your bed.

"Yes... Yes..." You grunt as you fix your grip on the bottom of his thighs, right before his knees, bouncing your ass off his lap.

Johnny's mouth is hanging open, his hands fisting the bed sheets as he lies on a puddle of his own sweat, every inch of his exposed, hairy torso glistening under the light of your bedside lamp.

You're both exhausted, your hands slippery on his sweaty thighs, your own sometimes shaking as you bounce on him again, and again.

Your pace is starting to become uncoordinated and sloppy because your legs are tired, your knees struggling to keep up and causing you to stutter atop him, driving his cock harder into you and deep against your cervix twice in a row.

It drives a desperate moan out of you both and you go still for a moment, feeling the sweat trickle down your brow.

"Fuck... C'mon..." Johnny whines and grabs you by the hip, attempting to rock his hips up against the cleft of your ass, helping pound into you...

Only for you to bounce up with him and then throw all your weight down onto him, causing his ass to be pinned back down onto the bed, and drawing a loud yowl of surprise as his cock barrels right against your cervix, sending a sting of pain up your spine.

Johnny looks up at you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, seemingly horrified and confused.

Finding his eyes, you lean forward, pressing your hands onto his chest, before murmuring "Stay fucking still. This isn't about you."

"Sorry?" Johnny murmurs, whether in confusion or genuinely apology, you don't know.

"You're nothing more than a toy right now. And good toys don't talk." You warn him.

"I-" He stuttered, not fast enough to protest before you were moving atop him again, the new angle and slight pause having provided you with an extra burst of energy.

You rocked against him, keeping him buried down to the hilt and rubbing your sensitive clit against the bush at the base of his cock.

It makes you croon in delight, keeping up the same angle but becoming more and more frantic, rubbing yourself against his bush while keeping his shaft sheathed nice and deep in your weeping cunny.

Something about the warm wetness enveloping his already oversensitive cock, the sight of your face contorting in pleasure atop him, so close and yet so far, your hands pushing against his chest so he doesn't try to reach for you.

It drives him over the edge and he finds himself losing it, his big blue eyes fluttering and rolling, his jaw dropping and his every muscle straining as his head falls back, causing him to stiffen beneath you.

Out of breath, you lean your head against his chest, feeling the warmth of your release coming in the aftermath of his own, his cock twitching and throbbing inside you being the final nail in the coffin.

Johnny doesn't dare move as he feels your warm cunt squeeze around him, draining every last drop from his already reduced third orgasm, simply lying there, beneath you.

His mouth is hanging open, drier than the Sahara, every inch of him is slick with sweat and he's out of breath and his entire body is trembling ever so slightly as he closes his eyes in pure bliss.

Only for his eyes to shoot open again as he feels you start up again, your ass carefully bouncing off his sore thighs.

-

Johnny stumbles his way into the training room. It's 6 a.m. and he has not caught a fucking wink of sleep.

Unlike his normal hook-ups, after which he reports to base with a pep in his step and a smirk on his lips that no amount of push-ups, sit-ups and mile runs can wipe off...

This time, he's limping, every muscle of his feeling sore and stiff, his thighs feel like they're going to bruise up, his cock burns from how oversensitive it is...

He hasn't slept, hasn't eaten, hasn't drunk water... and the closest thing to a shower he got was when you tossed him some wet wipes in the morning.

Unlike him, you had gotten up in the morning (aka after a 1.5 hour power nap) perfectly energized and like you hadn't spent half of the night riding him like a stallion you were trying to break...

Gaz is the first to notice Johnny's state as the Scot falls into formation with the rest of the unit, his eyes still sort of glassy. But he doesn't say anything... he simply raises a brow and smirks in amusement.

Ghost is standing by Price on the sidelines and notices next and, unlike Gaz, he chuckles at it and calls Price's attention to it. The Captain turns to look at Soap and has to contain the look of amused disappointment from showing on his face.

"Soap!" The Captain calls out, causing Soap to look over, nearly languidly and then approach, with Gaz following behind him, despite not having been called. He just... wanted in on the fun.

"The fuck happened to you, son? Did you get in a fight?" Price asks with a cocked brow, watching how the younger sergeant squirms and his tanned face grows warmer.

"N-No sir." Johnny replies and shakes his head, which causes him to wince, feeling light-headed.

"I think 'assaulted' would be a better word for it, Cap'n." Gaz chides, causing the Scot to huff and turn his head in frustration and embarrassment.

"Shut it, Garrick..." Soap murmurs, which earns a light chuckle from all the men, Ghost included.

"Go shower and take a nap. You're excused for this morning." Price tells the sergeant, causing the lad to nod thankfully and wander off, limping once more.

As he gets back to his barracks, he grabs his phone, typing out a quick message for you, thankful you insisted on giving him your number and taking his... Johnny secretly hoped that meant you wanted a repeat.

"Hope you're happy... Made me embarrass myself in the state I showed up to training in."

The reply he earned, however, was the most cold-hearted one he could've received... One he never even saw coming.

"I'm sorry, who is this?"

Read Bunny's Work HERE

[ohbueckers]

HEART OF A WOMAN. you always end up under me. you know how it goes, don’t be crazy, don’t play dumb with me.

04, CHAPTER FOUR. ONE IN THE SAME / BLAME GAME.

ju speaks. let me finish out my sparks dreams with this fic… hopefully this cures our full on dallas crash outs cause i worked my ahhh off to finish it today. also paige’s view is so much more fun to write lol. pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. sexual content (filth but war is over).

present day, may 2025.

i knew she didn’t deserve it. i was biting back words i should’ve just swallowed, and she didn’t even flinch. i almost wish she had. instead, she just looked at me, the disappointment clear as day, like she expected no less of me. no type of change. i knew it the second the words left my mouth—i wanted to pull her back, hold onto her and say whatever she needed to hear. it’s always like that. but it was too late. she left, and now it feels like i’m walking a tightrope again, waiting for the next time she’ll decide to speak to me.

that’s probably why, when i see her walk into this bar tonight, i’m done listening to whatever rickea and cam are rambling on about. it doesn’t matter that i’m here with them, celebrating a win. it doesn’t matter that maya’s been trying to make a place for herself in my life, or that i should be trying to figure out if that’s what i want. because the second nai steps in, it’s like she’s the only person here, and we’re right back where we started.

i’m nursing a shirley temple, pretending it’s something stronger, while rickea and cam talk about the game, looking like they’re about to float right off the barstools. i try not to, but i notice the way nai shakes her head, shoots one of those tight little smiles our way, like she’s already clocked the situation—cam, halfway to tipsy and clearly not ready to leave. she sighs, sliding next to her, which inconveniently places her way too far from me. two seats, really. still too far.

kea greets nai happily, and i force myself to acknowledge her with a raise of my eyebrows. cam pulls her into the conversation all effortlessly, and i think this is the most bubbly i’ve seen the blonde. “nai! you should’ve been here sooner. you saw that blowout, right?” she exclaims, her voice a little too loud.

nai humors her with a smile, but i can tell it’s half-hearted. she’s tired, probably came just to pick cam up and call it a night. i’m sure she’d be getting comfortable if it weren’t for me though.

“aw,” she pouts. “they put up a good fight. you ready to—“ i’m wrapping my lips around a cherry when the bartender comes around to nai, grabbing her attention from her main priority. she slides a napkin in front of her, all thirty two teeth on display, looking her in the eye like she’d fuck her. or worse, she already has.

“oh, i’m not drinking tonight,” i hear her say politely, and i almost break my neck to catch a glimpse of the interaction. it’s stupid. believe me, i know, but i can’t stop.

“cutting back? let me just get you a water then,” she chirps, and i try to make sense of the treatment she’s getting. friends? i don’t care. i know all of nai’s friends. i see the bartender’s eyes flicker to me just for a moment, like she’s measuring the situation despite there being two other people here with us. between us. i look down to her name tag. ana. then, with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, she’s rounding the same corner she came from.

i follow her figure as she leaves, and cam is the first to say something. “man, this feels just like ‘girlfriend of the week’ all over again.” she laughs, reaching for her half-empty vodka cranberry. the second one she’s had tonight. how many shots were in that thing? nai immediately pushes the glass away from her, and her face tightens just a bit, enough for me to catch it.

girlfriend of the week.

i raise my eyebrows, taking my sweet time as i lean back, swirling the straw around in my shirley temple. nai’s sitting back in her chair too, giving me the perfect opportunity to look straight at her. “girl of the week, huh? sounds like you got a whole rotation set up, nai,” i say, just vague enough to leave room for deniability.

she narrows her eyes at me as she adjusts her posture up off the seat, and i change my position too. “yeah,” cam pipes up, giggling like a school girl, “not that it’s any of your business though, paige,” she jokes, pointing an accusing finger at me. i suppose even through blatant confessions she’s still gotta protect her friend. “i mean, what’s it been, a month?“

rickea, sitting beside me, cringes and looks over, her eyes wide with something like regret. she mouths a quiet “sorry,” tilting her head toward cam like he’s apologizing for her, like she knew this was coming before she even opened her mouth. i squint back at her, barely nodding. i don’t want rickea’s silent apologies, i want an explanation.

nai’s lips press into a thin line, and i can see her fingers tapping rhythmically against the counter. she’s holding herself back, probably biting her tongue. it’s almost impressive, but i can’t resist pushing it just a little further.

“well, don’t leave us hanging, cam,” i urge, resting my chin in my hand, eyes glinting. “elaborate.”

cam’s head whips toward me, then back to nai, who’s gone from tense to downright glacial, her eyes shooting daggers at me like i’ve hit a nerve. cam laughs nervously. “oh, i really shouldn’t,” she says, giving a small, forced chuckle that’s more about backing away from the topic than anything else.

i open my mouth, but rickea seizes the moment, standing up and pulling cam off the stool with her. “come on, you’re due for a refill. let’s go check out the line, huh?” she says quickly, steering her toward the bathroom with a not-so-subtle look back at me, like she’s trying to pull them both out of the blast radius. cam stumbles along, protesting with a, “there’s no—“ that i catch before she’s far enough that i can’t hear her slurred words.

i shift, turning fully toward nailea. my elbows rest heavy on the bar, my hands clasped in front of me like i’m calm, but we both know better. she looks ready to up and leave. “so, what’s good? who is she?”

nai’s brows furrow, and she looks at me like i’ve lost it. “what are you talking about?” she asks, her tone clipped, like i’m wasting her time.

“you heard me,” i press, my eyes locked on her. “ana or whoever the hell else—how many it been? ‘cause you clearly left some stuff out.”

she glares at me a second longer before turning her head away, like she’s done with this conversation before it even started. “you don’t get to ask me that, paige.” i can tell she’s trying not to give me any more than that, but it’d never work.

i tilt my head, pushing myself to the edge of the seat, letting the words roll off. “nah, i think i do,” i say, keeping my voice low, licking my lips. “you can’t give me hell ‘bout maya and then act like i’m outta pocket for asking this. how many, lea?”

she whips her head to me, finally, eyes all annoyed and fiery. it’s clear i’m treading thin ice with her, and i’m completely oblivious to the breaking point. “you don’t want to know,” she argues. “and even if you did, it wouldn’t change a thing. we’re not together. remember?” she reminds with this petty ass shrug, and it makes me wanna—

the bartender, ana, strolls back over then, her timing so bad it feels intentional. she sets the water nai had clearly ordered out of politeness with this heedless smile, as if she can’t read a room. i sit back, biting back whatever i want to throw out next, letting the silence speak for itself.

nai thanks her, avoids eye contact, and she glances between the two of us like she’s trying to figure out the vibe, and i know she feels it, but she doesn’t take the hint. of course not.

“yo,” i say, tilting my head up in her direction, and maybe i shouldn’t have said anything at all. “we’re kinda in the middle of something.” i gesture between nai and i, and she scrunches her face up, probably at the mention of ‘we.’

ana blinks, her smile faltering, but instead of backing off, she has the nerve to look at nai, like she’s trying to gauge if she needs saving or some shit. “you okay?” she asks, her voice all soft, like i’m not sitting right here.

the audacity.

“she good, bro,” i cut in before nai can even think about answering for herself, my words quick and clipped. i throw in a tight smile for effect, but it’s not doing much to hide the clear attitude i’d just given her. “appreciate the concern, though.”

ana’s face shifts, her smile completely gone now, and she stares at me for a beat too long before nodding awkwardly, fingernails tapping against the counter. “alright, uh, just let me know if you need anything else,” she mumbles, finally walking away.

i don’t feel any better watching her leave. i clench my jaw, that sharp burn in my chest flaring up again. nai’s silence digs into me. why isn’t she saying anything? yelling that it isn’t my place?

i glance over at her. she’s not looking at me. not even at the glass of water sitting untouched in front of her, and then she moves. quiet and deliberate, she stands, slinging her bag over her shoulder without so much as a glance in my direction. i furrow my eyebrows in confusion. she’s leaving? she’s leaving.

“nai.” my voice is low but filled with enough stern to catch her as she turns toward the exit. she doesn’t stop, doesn’t pause, doesn’t give me anything.

i shouldn’t follow her. i know i shouldn’t. i should’ve just left it at that. but theres several parts of me that can’t leave her alone no matter how hard i try to respect her wishes. it’s a continuous thing. a bad habit, really.

but the second she pushes through the door, i’m up. the chair scrapes loudly against the floor as i shove it back. i drop a twenty next to my drink, and before i can think better of it, i’m heading after her.

the air outside feels no less suffocating than it did in the bar, warm and sticky like its clinging to my skin. nai’s halfway across the lot already, her pace quick and determined as she beelines for her car. my legs are much faster than hers though. her keys are clutched tightly in her hand, the sound of the fob unlocking her door breaking through the quiet.

“nai,” i call, my voice on the rise as i stride toward her. she doesn’t stop.

“nai!” i know her well enough to see it—the way her shoulders stiffen, the slight hesitation in her stride. she hears me. she just doesn’t want to. it says everything: leave me the fuck alone, paige. i can even hear her voice say it in my head.

but i’m not gonna listen. obviously.

“i wasn’t done talking to you,“ i say, the frustration etched across my entire face.

she stops and exhales sharply, jaw tightening as she drops her keys to dangle loosely from her fingers. her other hand is gripping the strap of her purse like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. she’s quiet, just angling her body toward the car like she’s going to keep pretending i’m not here.

not happening.

“aight.” i nod, lips pressed into a thin line. “the hard way?” it’s less of a question, more of ‘i know how this is about to go.’ i shift, stepping in front of her car door, my lanyard swaying out of the pocket of my sweatpants with the motion.

she glares up at me, and her head tilts just slightly, like she can’t believe i’m doing this. again. “get out the way,” she says flatly, though she knows those four words won’t do much to get me to do what she wants.

i’m not letting it go this time. “can you stop tryna’ leave when things get tough? you love walkin’ out on me instead of talk—“

“i left because i don’t want to do this again! i’m done trying to figure you out, and i’m done listening to you lie to me, paige,” she yells, and i swallow down the stern cut-off i planned to give her. “i can’t trust you.” she emphasizes every word, and i know there’s no quick fix, no easy answer. she’s right. i’ve given her every reason not to trust me.

i wish i could take it all back—the lies, the bullshit, the nights i wasn’t what she needed. but i can’t. and now i don’t know what to do, what to say, to make her believe that i wouldn’t do it again if i was given another shot.

“i know i messed up,” I finally say. it’s not the defense i’m used to putting up, not the sharp rebuttal i usually throw out. but i can’t fight her on it, it’ll only make her put both feet out the door.

she scoffs, shaking her head. “you can’t even fucking help it either.” she isn’t holding back. “you’re stubborn, you think shit is a game half the time, you don’t ever follow through…”

she’s rambling now, telling me how much of a piece of shit i am. she’s doing it so effortlessly, like she’s been rehearsing this in her head for months, years maybe, and somehow, someway, it doesn’t effect me when i hear her say it. not in the way it should.

i already know these things. i’ve heard it all before—hell, i’ve told myself most of it. but hearing it from her? the way she’s spilling it all out in dim light of this parking lot like she’s trying to exorcise me from her life for good? it should for the least bit sting. should make me feel guilty. but all i can think about is how good she looks when she’s angry, how her eyes flash and her chest rises and falls.

how she’s putting all her energy into this argument because she cares.

i run a hand down my ponytail, exhaling through my nose. “you done?” i interrupt.

she lets out a humorless laugh, shaking her head again, her hair falling into her face before she pushes it back with a sharp motion. “no, i’m not done, paige,” she snaps, and i nod my head, crossing my arms over my chest as she continues. “i’m so fucking tired of this—of you. of us. you don’t get it. you never get it. and i could leave you alone. block you, never speak to you again, but—“

i shift on my feet, licking my lips. “but you don’t wanna,” i finish for her.

she quirks a brow at me. “don’t tell me what i do and don’t want.” i want to laugh, because of course that’s how she’d respond. it’s probably how i would too. the irony isn’t lost on me.

“we’re the same,” i say.

her head jerks back slightly, confusion flashing across her face. “what?”

“we’re the same,” i repeat, meeting her gaze head-on. “that’s why we keep coming back to each other, nai. why we can’t let go. what are the odds we found each other again in la? you know it just as much as i do.”

she stares at me, lips pressing into a tight line, her eyes narrowing as if she’s trying to figure out whether i’m full of shit or actually making sense for once. she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, but i can see the wheels turning in her head, the way she’s trying to process what i just said.

“i’m not saying i’m perfect,” i add, stepping closer, lifting my body up off her car as i drop my voice lower. “i’m not. i fuck up. a lot. but i’ve always come back to you. always. and you? you always been there too, even when you’re mad, even when you’re hurt. we keep coming back because we don’t wanna lose this. each other.”

her lips part, her breathing uneven as she shakes her head again, though there’s less conviction behind it now. “don’t—” she starts, her voice trembling just slightly. “don’t do that. don’t make it sound like this is some… fate bullshit or whatever. it’s not. it’s messy, and it’s fucked up, and you—”

“me what, nai!?” i yell, and i think i’m just tired of her singling me out in all this like it hasn’t been a two-way street this entire time.

she squints at me, stepping closer, but i don’t back down. we’re closer now. too close. “you don’t get what it feels like to keep trying to love someone who doesn’t know how to love you back.” fuck. “you say all the right things, and then you fuck it up every single time.” her voice is calm, almost like she’s sick of yelling.

i feel my jaw clench involuntarily, and she’s getting me heated without trying. “that’s not true…” i start, but she doesn’t let me finish.

“shut up,” she snaps. “you think chasing after me, spitting a whole bunch of nothing about how we’re meant to be is gonna be the bandaid for all of this? you don’t even care about how much you’ve hurt me, paige. you never did.”

“that’s not fair, you know it,” i fire back. “and stop barkin’ at me like that.”

“or what? what are you gonna do?”

my hands are on her. her hips more specifically, guiding her over until she’s pinned against her the metal of her civic. she doesn’t fight it, even though she can’t with the way i’m handling her. her body flattens against it. “you know what i’m gonna do, nai?” i glance over her head, my eyes scanning the parking lot. still empty, just like when we got here. no headlights. no newcomers pulling in to park next to her car, not at this time of night.

her expression doesn’t waver. chin raised. lips tight. eyes locked on mine, daring me to follow through and say something that’ll only piss her off more. but i’m not giving her that. instead, i move my hand up under her jaw, forcing her head up to look at me. she whimpers, not expecting it.

i lean down, lips ghosting over her cheek. “i’m gonna remind you why you always come back.” her eyes have stayed on me, and she looks furious, hands glued to her sides.

but i’m not the one to initiate the crash of our lips, the sloppy spit exchange, she is.

her hands move to my shoulders, pulling me closer, pressing her body into mine as if she’s trying to meld with me, trying to make this real again.

“you’re so…” it’s rough, a collision of teeth and tongues as she pulls me deeper, her body pressing me harder against hers. “fucking annoying,” she breathes. i tighten my hands around her hips, guiding her to move in sync with me, and she lets out a, “fuck,” finalizing her frustrations that only pushes me further.

“okay,” i nod, tugging at her bottom lip as i pull away, just enough to look into her eyes. “you can talk all the shit you want in this backseat.”

without waiting for a response, i take a few steps and pull the car door open, the interior lights flickering on over a whole area practically ready for us. begging us to fall into it. she hesitates, glancing inside and then back at me.

she smiles, a slow, knowing grin, and that’s all i need to see. without another word, she moves around me, slipping into the car. i lick my lips, smiling to myself as i follow her in, the door shutting softly behind me.

the lights are off just as quick.

we’ve done this enough times that she knows the drill. she slides the front seats up, making room for me to stretch out, spreading my legs wide to take up the space. i get comfortable, resting my head back, and my hands have already found her hips again, pulling her to straddle me.

she takes her time, teasing me in a way i’m starting to crave. when she finally settles over me, i waste no time pulling her closer until our bodies are flush, and i can feel her against me—the warmth of her cunt through the thin pair of panties she’s wearing.

the worst part? i’ve been thinking about what’s under this jean skirt since she walked in that fucking bar.

i grin like an idiot as my head lolls to the side, my lips pulling into a smirk as she leans down to cup my face with one hand. our lips crash together again, more sloppy than the first. it’s desperate, and feels so good. there’s something else there, too—something that makes me want more. every inch of me is focused on the way her mouth moves against mine, how she’s making me lose control all over again.

braaking away from the kiss, i trail my lips down her neck, sucking and biting gently. she grinds her hips against me, and all i don’t think about claiming her with a few marks just to be cheeky, i do.

“tell me how bad you want it,” i whisper, breath fanning over the now sensitive parts of her skin. i pin her hips in one spot, and she whines slightly, not being able to do anything to get herself off.

“don’t make me, p,” she mumbles all seductively, and my eyes meet hers in the way that normally mean i’m not fucking around with her.

she realizes, and her tongue darts to the corner of her mouth. “want your fingers…” she trails off, eyes trailing down to where my crotch is. she brings her own hand down, and i shift, sucking in. “inside of me,” she finishes. “please, paige… make me come.” she presses deeper, and i swear she’s just about the only one who knows exactly how to keep me on my toes.

“mmm.” i roll my head back to her, biting down on my lip as i hike her skirt up over her ass with both hands. i let them roam before placing one right underneath her, pushing her panties to the side. i find her wetness quick, pressing my middle and index finger through her folds. “here?” i tease as i start stroking.

she nods, arching against my hand, and i can already tell she’ll be struggling to stay upright. she throws her head back instead, letting her pants fog up the windows. “i’ont think i heard you, baby,” i taunt, biting down on my lip and circling just a little slower.

her hand wraps around my wrist, practically pushing me deeper into her. “yes, there, you ass,” she mumbles all breathless. i chuckle, feeling my body getting hot as i slip both fingers in, lips parting at the squelching sound that begins filling the car. she grinds down, making me dig even deeper.

i’ve hooked my other arm under her thigh, keeping her from going too far as i pick up a rhythm that has her losing it. her body moves like it’s made for this, like it knows how to follow my lead without even thinking about it. her pretty eyes flutter shut, and i feel her tighten again, clenching around me like she doesn’t wanna let go. she can’t.

“so fuckin’ tight. you like when i stretch you out?”

with her acrylics digging into the side of my neck, she begins bucking her hips, licking over her plump lips with a whine. “love it, p. feels s’good—shit,” she gasps, her normally doe, wide eyes all blown out from the pleasure.

“mhm? that good?” i bite on my lip so hard i swear it might bleed, moving my fingers all the way out and ramming them back in repeatedly. her breaths are shallow, uneven, and we’re doing just about the same amount of work. “show me how good, ma. show me you’re mine.”

i follow her gaze, looking for her eyes before she drops her head with a pathetic whine, picking up the pace of her hips, and the way her tits bounce in that top have me physically refraining from getting her more messy than she already is.

her hands start to trail up my body, and i feel the fabric of my shirt shift as her fingers slide underneath, her palms warm against my skin. she pushes it higher and higher, her movements unhurried, leaving the end of it bunched up in her hands, resting on my chest. i can’t help it—i flex, my muscles tightening under her touch, and her eyes drop, watching the way my body reacts to her.

her forehead leans further into my neck. “paige…”

i adjust my grip, sliding deeper, and she reacts instantly, her nails scratching at the back of my neck like she’s trying to hang on. my hand moves slower now, but with more purpose, every little motion driving her higher. “yeah,” i mumble gravelly, right against her ear. “c’mon, talk to me, baby. lemme hear you.”

her body jerks, like my voice alone is messing her up, and i can’t help the smirk that spreads across my face. my lips find her jaw, then dip to her neck, dragging open-mouthed kisses down her skin that are more-so like licks, tasting her. i want her to feel this everywhere—every touch, every word, everything i’m doing to her right now.

i scissor my fingers wider, and her hips grind against my hand faster, chasing it like she’s got no choice. “don’t stop,” she whimpers, her voice cracking, and it makes me damn near lose it. “please. fuuuck.”

i lean back just enough to make her look at me, my fingers not letting up for even a second. she’s completely wrecked, her lips parted, breathing all over the place, and it’s a sight i’ll never forget. “aight,” i say, my grip tightening on her thigh as i furrow my eyebrows, chewing on my lip for some relief. “i got you. you almost there, pretty? c’mon, you know you wanna come.”

nai nods feverishly, and i can already see some of her wetness spilling out of her with every thrust, seeping into my sweatpants. she screws her eyes shut, a loud moan spilling out of her mouth, and it fuels me, my fingers working her just right.

“this?” i growl, curling right up under that deep sticky patch that’s gonna send her right over the edge. “that’s me. you feel that? nobody else. just me.”

“paige. shit. stop that—“ she gasps again, and i can tell she’s right there, hanging on by a thread. my thumb presses harder against her clit, my fingers curling deeper, and i lean into her ear again, my voice coming just over the sex sounds. “say it. say you’re mine, baby. don’t act shy now.”

her eyes snap open, locking onto mine, wide and glossy, like i’ve pulled something raw out of her. “i’m yours,” she chokes out, and it’s all she manages before her body locks up, trembling hard as she falls apart in my arms, completely wrecked.

i hold her through it as her breath stutters against my neck, my hands steady, my lips brushing over her temple as i mutter, “that’s my girl.”

her breathing slows, and she stays close, like she’s tethered herself to me, and i let her. my hand pulls out of her, moving to soothe the small of her back in lazy circles, my head tilting to press my lips to her hair. her scent clings to me—sweet, familiar, and i wouldn’t want it any other way. it’s dangerous.

“you good?” i ask, a little quieter now, dipping into something softer, something i don’t let just anyone hear. only her.

she nods faintly against my shoulder, and i can feel her heartbeat slowing down, her chest rising and falling as she tries to steady herself. her hands grip my shirt like she’s afraid i’ll pull away, so i stay, holding her just a little tighter, letting the silence stretch between us.

finally, she pulls back, just enough to look at me. her face is flushed, her lips graced with this small smile, and her eyes are still shining.

“44.2%,” she whispers.

i blink, knitting my eyebrows together as i smirk slowly. “what?”

“the odds,” she says, rolling her eyes as a grin pulls wider across her flushed face. “that you got drafted here. that we found each other again in la.”

i smile. not because she looks stupid for remembering that or even because it’s the first thing she thought of after everything we just did, but because it’s not fate, it’s us.

[purple-plum-petals]

⊱ You Can Do Better Than Me ⊰ || Boothill X Reader

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮        Character(s): Boothill (Honkai: Star Rail)        Reader Type: Human, Not the Trailblazer (Gender-Neutral Pronouns)        Warning(s): Break-up (Miscommunication/Assumptions… Not Permanent), Negative Body Image/Self-talk (Regarding Boothill), Use of Petnames (Boothill calls Reader “darlin’” and “sweets” and Reader calls Boothill “honey” and “love”), Slightly Suggestive Ending.        Genre: Drabble, Angst, Fluff (Hurt/Comfort), Pre-Established Romantic Relationship        Word Count: ~2500 words       Prompt: “What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?”        Author’s Note: Hello everyone, I come back to you briefly with a random Boothill drabble because this cowboy has been on my brain for the past three months and I needed to get something written for him ASAP. I actually got both him and his lightcone on release day, so I’m still hyped about that (didn’t even need to break my F2P status either hehehe 😎). I will get around to writing a multi-chapter fic for him as soon as my summer semester is over and all of the current requests in the ask box have been answered. I’ve been managing the workload relatively well so far, but it’s genuinely been so overwhelming in terms of content/information that my brain can barely form coherent sentences after class and work. 😭 Anyways, have some self-conscious Boothill and my beloved hurt/comfort. Maybe instead of saving the horse, we should save the cowboy. Also… let me know if anyone is interested in a part two, and I’ll be happy to write it. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)             Tag-List: @anonima-2 – I know you wanted me to tag you if I got around to writing a Boothill X Reader fic, so here it is! It may not be a multi-chapter one, but I hope you enjoy this little drabble.

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You had known Boothill for quite some time now. You had crossed paths with the elusive Galaxy Ranger throughout the years, so many times that you eventually lost count. Three times was uncommon, five times was rare, but over twenty times? That was absolutely unheard of given the vast expanse of space. It got to the point where you both noticed how frequently you would meet, the two of you making jokes that the universe was pushing you together.

Boothill had thought for a while you were sent to capture and/or kill him by the IPC but, after a particularly intense “discussion” (where he proceeded to hold you at gunpoint, as he frequently did with most people), you were able to confirm that all of the times you two had met were indeed just an exceedingly rare coincidence. It was something you would occasionally bring up to tease him about nowadays, poking fun at the fact he had literally held his future partner at gunpoint. It was a memorable event to reminisce on when asked by others ‘how did you two meet?’.

Years had passed since that unforgettable interaction, and both you and Boothill were happy and content in your current relationship. All of that time together with him had given you insight into how the cowboy typically behaved. He could be brash and rush into trouble head-first, but he was also immensely intelligent and could think of a plan on the fly to get himself out of even the stickiest situations. He was the type of person who frequently spoke his mind, not allowing his tampered-with Synesthesia Beacon to completely censor what he wanted to say… which is why you were as worried as you were lately.

Your boyfriend hadn’t been as talkative as he usually was. He had returned from a three-month-long trek around the galaxy a few days ago, and he had been distant ever since he came back. His replies had been clipped, and he had a strange look in his eye whenever he glanced your way; he hadn’t even looked at you for more than a few seconds since his return.

Tentatively, you made your way over to where he was sitting by an open window in your home, the breeze gently blowing the strands of his black-and-white hair to and fro. You stepped closer to stand next to him as you asked, voice tender as you spoke, “Boothill, honey, what’s wrong? You’ve been more reserved than usual these past few days, and I just want to check to see if you’re ok–…”

Then, he spoke, his voice firm as he cut off the rest of what you were going to say, “…I wanna break up.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach at his words, and you felt your palms begin to clam up with sweat as you whispered, “W… What?” You swallowed harshly, stepping closer to him as you asked, double-checking to see if you had heard him correctly, “What did you just say?”

“I said I wanna break up.” He says once more, voice rough as he turns his head ever-so-slightly to watch you from his peripheral. It felt like the world had stopped moving when he confirmed what you had always hoped you would never have to hear, and you feel your eyes begin to water. He finally, after so many days, looks at you directly after what has felt like eons. Whatever expression was on your face caused him to flinch before he looked away once more, staring at his hat on the nearby table.

Boothill sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he continues to speak, his voice gentler than usual as he tells you, “I don’t think this,” He pauses, taking his hand and gesturing toward himself before finishing his thought, “…is good fer you.”

Your emotions were fluctuating so quickly that your mind didn’t know what to do with all of them. First, you were worried about your boyfriend, then you were heartbroken when he said he wanted you two to go your separate ways, and now? Now you were angry, a sudden burst of frustration filling your veins at his reasoning behind wanting to end your relationship. Your heart aches as you exclaim, trying not to pay attention to the wetness forming along your lashes, “Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?”

Boothill is back to refusing to look at you, so you try to move into his line of sight as you ask, your hands flailing about as you speak in a desperation-laced tone, “What, exactly, isn’t ‘good for me’ Boothill?”

He turns his head to look at you, standing up from where he had been sitting as he holds his hands out, trying to placate you as he says hastily, “Listen don’t – don’t get the wrong idea, alright?”

“How can I not get the wrong idea when you suddenly tell me you want to end our relationship!?” You yell back, feeling the tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. You were angry, sure, but the soul-crushing feeling of separating from the man you loved so deeply pierced your heart like a knife. Your frustration quickly began to be tainted with sorrow, your voice coming out softly as you ask him, your mind desperate for some kind of answer as you place a hand on your chest, “Did I… Did I do something for you to come to this decision?”

Panic floods his expression immediately as he reaches out, his hands resting on your shoulders as he leans down to look at your face. He quickly tells you, one of his hands coming up to gently cup your cheek as his thumb brushes away your tears, “No, no, no, no – you didn’t do anythin’, darlin’. You’ve been perfect in every way, I just…”

He pauses, gaze traveling to the ground as he thinks of what to say. His cold, metallic fingers against your skin are comforting to you in a way you couldn’t describe – comforting in a way no one else would be able to understand. Boothill’s eyes meet with yours once more as he continues speaking with a bittersweet smile, “You could do so much better than me, sweets. I don’t want to hold you back.”

The anger you had felt was suddenly back in full force as you asked him, brows furrowed as you questioned, “How?”

Your hands come up to hold onto his, the one that was still lovingly cupping your face as you ask, leaning forward toward him as you speak, “How could I do better than you? What are you holding me back from?”

Boothill shakes his head, saying with a frown, “There’s so many things I can’t give you… I can’t give ya a peaceful life, I can’t give ya a family…” His voice cracks slightly at the word, but he continues to speak as he begins to pull his hand away from your face, “You deserve someone who’s around more often – someone who can be there for ya whenever you need ‘em.”

Boothill chuckles bitterly, removing his hand from your grasp as walks over to grab his hat off of the nearby table, and you’ve never felt so cold and empty in your entire life. You watch helplessly as he places the hat on his head, staring as he begins to make his way toward the front door as he tells you, “You deserve someone who doesn’t cause you to jump every time their freezin’ cold hands touch ya – someone who can actually feel ya.”

You step toward him, reaching out to take his hand in yours and effectively stopping him in his tracks as you say firmly, “Boothill, shut the fuck up. Aren’t you going to at least ask me what I think about this?”

Boothill sighs, turning back around to look at you as he speaks. He doesn’t do anything to remove his hand from your grasp, instead gently squeezing it in a comforting manner as he tells you, “Listen, sweets, I just think it’s for the better that–…”

“No, it’s not.” You say, your voice strong despite the tears that had begun to flow down your face. You look up at him, bringing his hand to place on your chest as you tightly hold it over your heart, telling him firmly and genuinely despite the way your voice cracks, “I don’t care if you can’t give me those things. When did I even say that’s what I wanted in life?”

“Why wouldn’t you want that?” Boothill asks, looking down at you as if you had grown a second head, as if everything he said he couldn’t give you was something that everyone would want. He looks conflicted as he tells you, trying to take his hand back as he steps away from you and closer to the front door, “You deserve to be happy – you deserve to have someone who’s there for you.”

“What if all I want is you, huh?” You tell him, refusing to let go of his hand – refusing to let him leave your life in such a way. Your hold on Boothill’s hand was tight because you knew, deep down, if you let his hand slide out of yours, you’d never see him again. You look up at him as you speak, a spark of determination in your eyes which causes Boothill’s cheeks to flush a light shade of blue, “No one else can give me you. You’re the one that makes me happy – not some dream life, not some perfect family – just you.”

“You don’t want me, darlin’ – I promise, once I’m gone, you’ll move on an’ another lucky fella will have the honor of being able to love ya.” Boothill tells you with furrowed brows and a smile, his sharp teeth peeking out from behind his lips as he tries to convince you he’s not what you want. You could feel your eyebrow twitch in frustration at his words, your tears slowing down as you refute his claim.

“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” You ask him, a tinge of hurt and frustration mixed in your voice as you reach out to firmly hold both of his hands in your own. Boothill allows you to do so with no fanfare, a conflicted expression on his face; his fingers twitch in your hold. He watches as you close your eyes and take a deep breath, hesitating for a moment before once again looking at him as you whisper, “Listen, if you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you or hold you back, but…” You pause, smiling warmly at him before continuing, “but I want you. I want to be with you, not this hypothetical ‘fella’ you’ve envisioned who would give me a perfect life.”

Before Boothill could open his mouth to try and argue again, you quickly add on as you bring one of his hands to your lips, pressing a light kiss to his digits as you tell him, “I don’t care that you’re cold to the touch – I don’t care that we won’t have a picture-perfect life together…” You feel the tears beginning to form on your lashes again as you run your thumbs along his knuckles, telling him sincerely, “I’ve never imagined a future without you in it, love.”

Boothill looks down at you, his expression a clash between his adoration for you and the heaviness of the situation. He shakes his head, bringing one of your hands to his lips as he presses a kiss to the back of it as he tells you, voice uncharacteristically quiet as he admits, “I… I don’t want to leave, sweets. I just…” He hesitates as he makes eye contact with you, raising a brow as he once again gestures to himself as he asks, “Are you sure this is what ya want?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life,” You tell him, letting go of his hands as you instead wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you as your bodies press against one another. His arms wrap around your waist on instinct, pulling you close to him as you press your foreheads together. You stare into his eyes and bring a hand to his cheek, placing your palm against his face as you run your thumb along the skin under his eye. He leans into your touch, turning his head to kiss your palm as you tell him with a smile, “Rain or shine, good or bad… I want to be beside you throughout it all.”

“Heh, well… I’m glad I get to be by yer side.” Boothill says, opening his eyes once more to look at you. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your temple as he whispers, almost as if he didn’t want the world to hear him – to keep this tender moment a secret between the two of you, “…Thank you for choosin’ me out of the rest of the blokes in the galaxy, darlin’. I’m a real lucky guy to have someone as wonderful as you.”

“I’d choose you in every universe, Boothill. That’s a promise.” You reply with a smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, almost as if you were teasing him.

He smirks at both your words and your actions, saying with a raised brow as he leans back, tilting his hat up with one finger as he speaks, “That’s quite a big promise there, darlin’. Sure you can keep it?”

“Oh, I’m sure.” You reply, matching his expression as you huff, “Don’t doubt me, cowboy.”

“I won’t, I won’t…” Boothill says with a chuckle. He pauses, his smile faltering slightly as he looks down at you. Your eyes were still slightly red, and the stains your tears had left on your cheeks were still present. He pulls you closer to him, nuzzling his face into your neck as he takes a deep breath in, muttering against your skin, “Aeons, I love ya… I love ya so fudgin’ much.”

“I love you, too, honey.” You reply softly, running your hand up and down his back when an idea pops into your mind. It was a mischievous one, and the mere thought of it causes a smirk to grow on your lips. You reach up and grab the hat from his head as you instead place it on yours, asking him flirtatiously, “Why don’t I show you just how much I love you?”

“Well… I certainly like the sound of that.” Boothill replies lowly, his eyes half-lidded as he gently caresses your face, smirking at his hat now resting atop your head. He leans down and kisses you, whispering against your lips in a sultry tone, “Plus, I’d like to apologize for makin’ you cry… Can I, darlin’?”

The tone of his voice was enough to make your heart start beating faster, and you could feel your cheeks begin to warm as you replied quickly with a simple, “Please do.”

[trippinsorrows]

ltye: my little girl

authors note: roman being soft with his youngest (as of this oneshot). we love to see it. this is dreamland based.

*gif belongs to @romanreigns*

words: 3k

warnings: fluff galore, some angst

It happens every so often. Not a ton, but definitely on more than one occasion.

Where the house is empty sans the pets and one or two children.

Typically, it occurs over a weekend where there’s some type of overlap between the older kids' extracurriculars. This time, it’s Lina having a volleyball conference out of town, Leya tagging along to go support her sister, Tama attending a football camp, and Koa and Kai at some type of weekend tech training for kids. Roman doesn’t really understand what that last bit entails, but they, along with the rest of the family all have their security details with them, Jacob with the girls, and Zilla and Lance with the boys. They’re safe, and that’s all that matters to him.

However, with everyone else gone. That just leaves him and his youngest. 

Little Ms. Aroha Reigns.

The same little girl who’s currently using her equally little hands to try to shake him awake. “Daddy.” The dichotomy of her trying to keep her voice down while also wanting to wake him up makes him smile a little. “Daddy, you gotta get up.”

He knows he does, but a part of him wishes she would have slept a little longer. Her tiny body curled against him, as she’s always scared to sleep in her room by herself when her siblings are away. It’s too quiet in that wing of the house for her, hence her sleeping with him and bringing Coco with her. 

But, Roro is up now. There’s no going back.

Roman groans quietly and rolls onto his back, opening his eyes to see her staring down at him, just as alert and awake as all the outdoors. 

She's clearly pleased at her wake-him-up victory. “Daddy, you’re up!”

He chuckles. “I’m up, but why are you up?”

She pouts, and his smile reappears. “Cause we gotta make breakfast.”

“We do?”

She nods happily, informing him like he doesn’t live there. “Mommy always makes breakfast.”

She’s not wrong about that. Roman can only recall a few times where his wife hasn’t gotten up early just to ensure their family starts off their day the right way with full stomachs. He’s tried to tell her countless times that she doesn’t have to, but he sees it’s something that brings her joy. The cooking, but specifically, the cooking for them.

So, he leaves her be, and obviously, the importance of this now tradition is something that’s been burned into his youngest child’s head. 

Roman clears his throat and rubs his eyes, asking, “whatchu’ want us to fix, baby girl?” 

With raised fists of excitement, she shouts, “sparkle pancakes!”

Roman laughs a little. “Daddy knows how to make regular pancakes.” One of the few meals he’s learned how to prepare over the years. The Tribal Chief knows his place when it comes to the culinary arts. That’s all Solana. Definitely not him.

Again, there’s that pout. “Regular pancakes are boring.” Her eyes light up. “I’ll show you how to make sparkle pancakes! Mommy taught me.”

Another not surprising thing. Similar to Leya, Aroha has shown an interest in cooking and baking, often wanting to help her big sister and mom when it comes time to prepare food. 

Aroha has clearly set her mind to this being the plan, thus her trying to shove on him to get him moving. “Come on, daddy!”

Roman gives one more heavy sigh before sitting up, scooping Aroha up with him as he climbs out the bed, seeing Coco still sleeping away.

“Hygiene first, kiddo.” Roman carries her into his master bathroom, setting her on the counter as she grabs her toothbrush from her little section of stuff he already set up for her. Together, they get teeth brushed, faces washed, and Roman does a lazy bun with his hair but focuses on getting her ponytail just right as she talks away about all of the “fun” things she wants to do with him this weekend.

He doesn’t mind. Roman can’t recall the last time it was just the two of them, so he’ll do whatever she wants—within reason—to make this weekend special for her.

After letting the dogs outside and putting out their breakfast, Roman and his youngest get started on their own. He lets Aroha lead, allowing her to walk him step-by-step through her unsurprisingly detailed tutorial. Even the parts that are no-brainers, because she clearly enjoys feeling like she’s the one teaching him. 

She does get a little heavy handed with the sprinkles, probably more than Solana would approve of, but Roman also knows his daughter. Knows that while she may be on a bit of a sugar rush for a part of the day, when she crashes, she crashes hard. 

She’ll be knocked out for the night when all is said and done, so he’ll just give her the now.

And they sit in the living room, using trays to share their breakfast together, Roman having to ‘force’ her to drink orange juice instead of the chocolate milk she could finish all on her own if left alone.

Kid has a sweet tooth like him.

Grabbing the remote, he asks right as she sticks her fork into her stack of two pancakes, “whatcha’ wanna watch?”

Her eyes squint as she deliberates over this very important question, finally settling on, “Inside Out!”

Roman smiles a little. That was one of his guesses. “Which one?” Of the four films, he knows she doesn’t really have a favorite, but it’s still worth asking.

She lifts her index finger, answering with excitement, “the first!”

Roman nods. “The first it is.” 

Navigating to Disney Plus, selecting Roro’s profile, he hits play on the film that’s already in her watchlist. Settling back on the sofa beside her, the two eat together, Aroha taking time in between bites of food to explain certain things. If she doesn’t end up doing something with animals, he can see her being a teacher. At seven, she’s pretty damn good with explaining stuff. 

Aroha’s adorable giggling is music to his ears as she points at the TV. “That’s you, daddy.” 

Roman looks up at the TV from the phone that he was using to send a quick check-in text to the rest of his family when he’s met with one of the scenes of Anger, well, being angry.

He scowls, disagreeing. “That is not me.”

“Yes, it is,” she laughs, climbing off the sofa and moving in front of him to provide a demonstration. “You get all angry like this,” Roman laughs as Aroha attempts to provide an example of how Roman turns up his face when irritated, disgusted, or….angry. “Kids! Get down here now!” The laughter continues as she clearly tries to mimic him. “Roro! Time for bed! Koa, Kai, time to get off the games! Tama, Lina, Leya, come help bring in these groceries!”

Roman shakes his head as she climbs back on the sofa, on her knees, looking up at him. “That really me?”

Aroha shakes her hand. “Mommy says you can be a grump, but I don’t know what that means.” She finishes with a confused look, shrugging indifferently as she refocuses back on the film. 

Thinking, probably overthinking, about what she said, Roman finds himself hitting the pause button a few minutes later.

She turns to him with a frown. “Daddy?”

“Aroha…..” Roman angles his body toward her. “I know….I get angry sometimes, but you know it’s never at you, right?” Because that’s something Roman has always done his best to be mindful about, not losing his temper with and on his kids. They might frustrate him from time to time, because they’re kids, but he would never want them to be scared of him.

That would kill him.

“I would…..I would never yell at you or your siblings or your mom like that.” It’s a bit difficult for him to explain given her young age, but he has to try. Has to make sure she understands that she’s always safe with him. 

“Daddy, you’re never mean to us.” She says it so sweetly, like she almost can’t believe he would even ask such a thing. “You’re the best daddy ever.”

Feelings. So many feelings. Things he used to shield and shove away like they were something to be embarrassed of. But, falling in love, becoming a parent, it’s all made him realize that there’s nothing wrong with them. They’re normal and okay to have.

And he has a bunch of them festering with such kind, genuine words from his daughter. Roman pulls her into his side, kissing the top of her head. “thanks, kiddo.” It’s all he wants in life. To do right by her. By all of his kids.

By his family.

“You’re welcome, daddy.” She peers up at him, in all of her randomness, asking, “can I do you hair?”

Roman smiles and laughs, not sure where it’s coming from but obliging her, nonetheless. “Sure.”

She cheers and climbs off the sofa, running off, probably to get the ‘supplies.’ He takes the opportunity to check his phone, seeing missed texts from his wife. 

Solana: We’re good, my love. 

Solana: I’d ask how you guys are doing, but it’s not needed.

Solana: She’s with her favorite person. And vice versa. ❤️

Roman chuckles as he types out a reply. 

Roman: I’ll probably take her out in a lil bit.

Roman: Dogs need more food.

Solana: You wanna take her to the pet store with you?

Solana: Well, send me pictures of the latest pets. 😉

Roman shakes his head. 

Roman: I’m not getting her anymore pets, babe.

Solana: Lol. Okay. 🙂

Roman readies to reply and defend himself when Roro comes back in the living room with one of her sparkly backpacks as she directs him to sit on the floor. He climbs down, as Aroha hops on the sofa behind him and gets to work.

He hits play on the movie as she takes his hair down and does a lot of probably unnecessary brushing and combing, all the while explaining her actions. As always, he just lets her do her thing, playing into and supporting her along the way.

They stay like this for the duration of the movie, after which Roman asks the unnecessary question as to if Roro wants to go with him to pick up more food for Coco and Max. It’s a no-brainer, because the way that little girl rushes to get dressed and is ready to go in less than fifteen minutes should be studied.

So, after cleaning the kitchen and Roman throwing something on, he’s out the door with his mini-me who talks almost the entire car drive, not that he minds. He remembers times like this with Leya and Lina.

It goes by so fast. He just wants to enjoy the here and now.

Wants to revel in her being cute and little for as long as he can. 

But, it’s that cuteness that’s about to get him in trouble and eat his words as soon as they’re about to checkout at the pet store when Aroha passes the animals.

The bunnies. 

She gasps, letting go of his hand, rushing over to the small selection. It doesn’t bother him that much, mostly and largely because he had the entire store cleared and has security stationed around the place. Inside and out.

He never takes any chances when it comes to his kids. Especially little Roro.

 “Look, daddy!” Roman walks over, leaving the cart unattended to see the two small bunnies that have caught his daughter’s attention. “They’re so little….”

“They are.” He knows where this is going. Knows exactly where this is going, a part of him wishing he had listened to Solana. Taking her here with him maybe wasn’t the best idea. 

With sadness in her cute little voice, she realizes, “they’re here, because….because they don’t have a home.” 

“Not yet,” he answers, taking her other hand, giving a gentle squeeze. “But, they’ll get one.”

With hopeful eyes, she looks up, asking that question he was dreading. “Can they come home with us?”

Roman shuts his eyes.

Damn.

“Baby…..” He sighs, trying to explain in as calm and gentle voice as possible. “We already have the dogs and Nala.” Nala being the kitten his animal loving child found and rescued, hiding in her room for almost a week before being discovered.

The memory makes him chuckle a bit. That was….something else. 

Aroha’s frown deepens as places her hand up on the glass, looking at them before gazing back at him with those big, sad eyes. Solana’s. She has her mothers eyes. “But, everyone needs a family.”

And it’s that single sentence that seals the deal.

An hour later, Lola and Thumper are the latest additions to the Reigns household, Roman spending more than what was necessary to get all of the supplies Aroha wanted for her latest “little babies.” 

The smile on her face is more than worth it for Roman, however, as he sets everything up in her room for the bunnies. 

And it’s even on her face as she finds him a little later in the day, plopping her body on top of him as she takes a nap, needing a respite before tackling the rest of the day. 

But, it’s as she sleeps peacefully on top of his chest, her little lips partially open, breath escaping and chest moving up and down as she holds onto him that Roman reflects.

47 seconds. 

That’s exactly how long Aroha went without breathing when she was born. 

Roman has really only ever experienced fear a couple times in his life, most of which have revolved around his family. His wife. His children.

But, the day that Aroha was born, the minute Solana welcomed her into the world and instead of being met with the sound of their daughter's wails, thus officially making her grand entrance into the world......they were met with silence.

Aroha didn’t cry. She didn’t cry, because she wasn’t breathing.

And it’s those 47 seconds that stretched and felt like fucking hours as the labor team went to work on their not even a full five minutes old daughter.

Roman will never forget the sheer terror that set in the minute Solana realized what was happening. “She’s not breathing.” With her medical background, it was both an easy and horrifying thing to realize. “Why—why isn’t she breathing? Something’s wrong.”

The reason, that they would find out later, being something called Birth Asphyxia. The cause having something to do with Solana not having enough oxygen in her blood during childbirth. To this day, he doesn’t truly understand fully. But, at that time, he wasn’t concerned with why his daughter wasn’t breathing.

He just wanted her to be okay.

Aroha was rushed to the NICU where she received the best care money could buy, including some type of whole body “cooling” treatment that was apparently significant in her care. But, at seven days old, they conducted an MRI that revealed slight brain damage. As a result, Aroha received early intervention PT and OT, which was something Roman didn’t even know existed until then for such a young child. 

However, it was effective, because while Roman and Solana were advised Aroha may need to continue therapy up until her first few years of her life, their fighter of a daughter ended up beating the odds, cleared and meeting all milestones on time by five months of age.

It was the biggest relief and blessing they could have ever asked for, but Roman can and will never forget the devastation he felt trying to comfort Solana as they had to return home without their baby girl. It was rough, trying to spend as much time in the NICU with her while still being available and present for their other children.

The day they finally got to bring her home remains one of the happiest days of his life.

And now, at age seven, she’s a happy, healthy child who continues to not only meet all milestones but presents with intelligence that bypasses what’s expected for her age.

But, most importantly, she’s alive.

And that’s why Roman knows and is well aware of the fact that he might let Aroha get away with some things she shouldn’t, agrees to things that he doesn’t have to, says yes when he maybe should no.

The thing, however, is that none of that could be an option. It could not be an option because she couldn’t be here right now.

She could have died, but she didn’t. His little girl is a fighter, and he’ll always love her just a little bit harder just because of it. 

Grabbing his phone, careful not to disturb her, Roman sends Solana the picture Roro used his phone to take of her "babies."

He then adds the caption.

Roman: She named them Thumper and Lola.

Solana texts back not even five minutes later.

Solana: 😂😂😂😂

Solana: Told you.

Solana: They are cute......

Roman: I guess.

He can practically see his wife rolling her pretty eyes through the phone.

Solana: But, you know we're gonna have to get the boys those lizards now, right?

He does, and while he's not exactly thrilled about it, he knows it's the right thing to do. Knows that it's unfair to grant Aroha's wish, but not Koa and Kai.

Roman knows all too well what it's like to feel like the less favored of his siblings, and he'll be damned if any of his kids will feel that way.

Ever.

Roman: I know. I'll take them next weekend.

Solana: Good.

Solana: Girls said to tell they love you. I love you too. ❤️ Give my baby a kiss for me.

Roman: Love ya'll too. I will. ❤️

Roman sets his phone back down on his nightstand and chuckles as Aroha adjust herself on top of him, smacking her little lips a little as she sighs in her sleep.

Roman kisses the top of her head, one arm around her, holding her closer for as long as he can.

[deanstead]

Low Effort

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: no

Summary: Y/N gets a surprise visit, which triggers some unpleasant symptoms

Word Count: 1k+

Tags/Warnings: mentions of stomach cramps, slight allusion to anxiety, negative emotions

A/N: Long time no see! This is a thing I needed to get off my chest and needed to get the emotions out, so it’s just some Jay comfort/fluff. Also, a warning that I haven’t written in so long, this kind of feels a bit meh, so I hope I haven’t lost too much of my writing touch LOL

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST

You closed your laptop shut, just as your phone lit up with a notification about a new message from Jay.

Sorry, got held up. 10 minutes. Tops.

You smiled, typing a quick response of acknowledgment to tell him not to hurry before you got up, grabbing your bag. You were too fried to continue anything else so you figured you would just go and wait for him. Fresh air was better than whatever was coming through the office vents.

As the glass doors of the main entrance on the first floor slid open and you felt the chill of the Chicago winds hit your face, you sighed. Fresh air was definitely better.

“Y/N.”

You glanced up, your eyebrows naturally bunching together at the sound of a woman’s voice.

As your eyes met hers, you froze for a moment, your brain still processing the fact that she was here.

“Amy?” Her name slipped past your lips before you could stop yourself, even though the only emotion you were feeling at this moment was surprise. There was nothing positive or negative about it.

Amy could feel it in your voice as well. “Can we talk? I’ve missed you.”

You frowned as a cramp shot through your lower abdomen.

“I thought we were better friends than this. Low-maintenance, remember?” Amy said, and you could hear the tone in her voice, the one she used when she was upset or disappointed.

The feeling of indignation shot through you once again.

“Yeah, low maintenance, not low effort.”

Your voice was low but you didn’t let the emotion sway it. You spent years telling yourself that it was just a low-maintenance friendship, that you were both just busy, but you couldn’t ignore the way she’d reappear in front of you only when she needed your support, or when the guy she was seeing was out of town.

You glanced up at the street but hadn’t seen Jay’s car yet.

You exhaled. “Look, Amy. You have your priorities, I get it. Just don’t expect me to drop mine when you blow back into town or when your boyfriend doesn’t have time for you. It doesn’t work that way.”

You felt the cramps intensify and knew what it was. You called it “emotional cramps” with Jay, joking that as long as he kept you happy you’d be fine. Yet, here they were again. Maybe it was because you hadn’t had them in a while, you felt them more intensely now.

You put a hand on your stomach as you looked up at Amy. As expected, she had an indignant look on her face.

“How could you say that, Y/N? I know the fact that I was seeing Trevor was a sore spot with you because you weren’t seeing anyone so I didn’t want to make things harder for you. But now…”

You couldn't even respond as the pain ripped through you once again and you bent forward slightly, your knees buckling a little. You braced yourself for the impact of your knees hitting the concrete sidewalk when you felt his arms around you.

“Babe, what’s wrong?”

Jay.

Amy seemed stunned for a moment before she spoke again, “It must be her…”

“Why’s it acting up?” Jay asked, his entire focus on you as you glanced up at him and quietly shook your head.

Jay glanced up at Amy. They didn’t know each other since you’d met Jay sometime after contact between you and Amy had dwindled to almost nothing. By the time you and Jay had started dating, you’d made up your mind to let go of Amy and this friendship, and it had merely nagged at you a little at the back of your mind from time to time so you hadn’t brought her up.

“Come on, we’re going to Med,” Jay said quietly, pulling you upright.

You glanced at him. “Don’t you dare carry me,” You warned.

Despite the worried look in his eyes, Jay smiled. “We’re going to Will.” He repeated, almost like he was daring you to argue.

You didn’t argue. Partly because all you wanted to do was get out of there but partly because you knew it was useless. Besides, the pain was more intense than you remembered.

Without a second glance back, Jay helped you into the car and drove off, both of you leaving Amy still standing on the sidewalk.

You knew what had triggered the attack, so after getting medication for the pain and cramping, you’d been feeling much better.

“You know I’d be feeling even better if you would stop hovering, Detective.” You said, directing the comment at your boyfriend.

Will smiled as he tapped on the iPad in his hand and glanced at his brother. “She’s fine. Her tests are normal, and it was probably just a one-off stress-related attack.”

You nodded. “I’ll follow up with my therapist, I promise.”

Will ruffled your hair affectionately and you growled because he knew you hated it.

“I’ll get the discharge started.”

Jay was quiet as he leaned over you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, before you glanced back down.

“Amy’s an old friend.” You said, after a while. "At least, she was."

Jay didn’t say anything, so you continued, telling him about how Amy was when she started dating anyone, and it only progressively got worse. “And it’s not about seeing her often, you know? It’s just…”

Jay nodded. “You didn’t feel like she cared.”

You sighed quietly. “I just… it got to a point where I realized she didn’t care. I was a friend when she needed me, and when she didn’t, I just… didn’t exist. And apparently, to her, that’s me being sore.”

Jay just took your hand in his, gently stroking your fingers.

“But I just realized it was better to have no one than to be treated that way, so I just…”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Jay said quietly. “Listen, someone who gives you low effort doesn’t deserve you. I don’t care who they are. Anyone who makes you feel this way doesn’t deserve even one percent of you.”

You looked up at him and smiled, a little sadness hidden behind it.

“I guess seeing her today just brought it all back, you know? And then it triggered all those emotions and then my stomach cramps decided to join the party.” You made a face.

Jay smiled quietly back at you. “But you know what? You’re not alone. At least not anymore.”

You smiled and leaned forward for a hug. Jay perched by the edge of the bed, pulling you gently into his arms and you buried your face into his shoulders, feeling his arms encircle your entire body.

“I know.” You whispered.

Jay kissed the top of your head. “Good.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!

[aliceramblez]

Dating The BB League Elite Four + Kieran 💕

Tags: GN! Reader, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Teal Mask & Indigo Disk Spoilers!

A/N: After finally getting dragged into the Pokémon rabbit hole, I honestly couldn't resist in doing one of these for my babies! Scarlet/Violet is my very first Pokémon experience, so hopefully I did these characters justice ^^

Feel free to follow my main @taruchinator & leave a request for future HCs!

Crispin 🔥

He's such a dork and incredibly quirky but don't you worry, he'll definitely be the one to ask you out first, no matter how many attempts it takes. Not like you'd say no to begin with.

As a partner, he's the kind of guy who would always try to cheer you up and have you in a happy mood, because when you're happy, he's happy! Anything from compliments, to jokes, to just giving you lots of affection.

Which brings us to the fact that he's huge on PDA. And the funny thing is he doesn't even realize he's doing it—he'll lean on you when you're showing him something in your Rotom Phone, rubbing circles on your palm when you're talking about your day, placing his chin on your shoulder while talking to the other club members—this man is all over you.

During your stay at Blueberry Academy, don't you dare spend your precious money on the cafeteria, he's got you covered. He'll ask you and learn about your tastes, creating new recipes and concoctions just for you, hoping to surprise you with something better and nutritious every day!

If you had a long day of training and doing BBQs, Crispin always comes by and makes sure you had a meal. And you better not be lying to him.

“Man, you've been out all day! Did you even have lunch?”

“.... I had a granola bar.”

“HOW ARE YOU STILL STANDING?”

It's safe to say that Koraidon/Miraidon adores him, and even makes you question whether it's you or your Pokémon who's dating him.

After you started going out, Crispin now makes sure to carry sandwiches with him at all times. Mostly for your oversized lizard boy, but also for you in case you need a quick snack to recharge. The legendary Pokémon is quick to thank him with licks and constant slobbering which always leaves the red-head a mess, but he tries to not let it bother him for your sake.

Whenever you guys aren't training, you'll be in your dorm rooms cooking and having laughs with your Pokémon over how clumsy they can be in the kitchen.

Overall, a sweet and supportive goofball who'll make sure you're always smiling and never have an empty stomach!

Amarys 👓

Obviously Amarys isn't the best at conveying her emotions. It doesn't mean she doesn't care, she just has a hard time figuring them out sometimes! Which is why it's incredibly strange to her when she starts having these weird sensations whenever she's around you.

She feels happier, her stomach gets all jumbled when you compliment her, and her minds always finds a way to drift back to you no matter what she's doing.

She ends up asking Carmine about it, who immediately gets all giddy and explains to her that she might have a crush. Amarys is surprised, but not against the idea. It makes sense in retrospect—cue bestie Carmine giving her pointers and ideas to try and confess to you.

Unfortunately it's all a bit too convoluted or cheesy for the Steel-Type user's liking, so she ends up doing it her own way.

One day after club activities are over, she asks if you can stay a bit longer to talk. “After much deliberation, it would seem that I have caught romantic feelings for you. I propose a casual outing so we can discuss these in further detail. Do you agree?”

It doesn't take long for you two to start going out.

Amarys shows affection through small gestures that may not seem like a lot to others, but you know they're huge steps for her. Sharing her food when you're hungry, giving you advice on how to raise your Pokémon properly, helping you study subjects you aren't that good at—the list goes on.

PDA isn't her strong suit at all. Physical affection in general isn't something she's used to, and she's forever grateful that you don't push her to do things out of her comfort zone. She tries though, and will do things like brush her hand against yours or even give you a hug whenever she's feeling bold.

To an outsider you're both an unconventional couple, but manage to make it work with trust and constant communication. Give her some time and she'll warm up to you.

Lacey 🧚‍♀️

A sweet cutie who doesn't really change her attitude towards you even after you start dating, since she's always loved having you around. The two of you also confess at the same time, which leaves you as a pair of giggling messes at the irony of it.

Is your number one cheerleader when it comes to school academics. You may not be an official Blueberry student, but that doesn't mean you should be slacking in your classes! If you don't understand the material, don't you worry, she's already prepared a slideshow presentation going over it point by point. Will also reward you with kisses if you pay attention!

Lacey isn't huge on PDA either since she thinks it's unnecessary, but when it's just the two of you, she will never let go. You have successfully replaced Granbull as her favorite pillow of choice, since whenever you two have time off and she's tired, you'll probably take a snooze under a tree in the Coastal Biome.

When you get to meet her father, she's actually a bit nervous since she's never thought of dating before finishing school, but you try and be brave and reassure her that you'll try your best to give a good impression. He thinks you're alright, but gives you the good old father talk to make sure you won't hurt his little girl.

Will find ways to dot your Legendary lizard ride with gifts and affection since she thinks he's just too darn stinking cute, but don't worry, she still thinks you're the cutest!

Since Lacey's constantly worrying about things getting done around the League Club, it's your duty as her partner to get her to relax from time to time. You'll do your best by offering to share responsibilities and reminding her that breaks are very much needed.

“Sweetie it's nighttime, you can finish in the morning. I'm tired and need cuddleeeess.”

“Just one more page and I'll be done—”

“Please Ms. Lacey! I need your cuteness to have a good night's sleep!”

“F-Fine, I'm coming! Flattering me to get what you want is just not right, ya know?”

Truly an iconic duo.

Drayton 🐉

Let's get one thing straight: this man doesn't confess—heck, he doesn't even ask you out! One day he just has his arms around you and plants a kiss on your cheek claiming that he'll follow your every command, all with a cheeky grin on his face. You're more than welcome to punch him for it and he'll still come crawling back.

Like most things in his life, Drayton takes your relationship slow and steady, not really wanting to push your boundaries (unless he wants to tease you) and having no rush to progress things. He's just a chill guy who wants to claim you before anyone else does.

Don't be mistaken though, this doesn't mean he doesn't care. You'd be surprised how much he looks out for you, almost borderline overprotective in some cases. After everything that happened with Terapagos in Area Zero, he's constantly making sure you have strong Pokémon, supplies, and good company to survive the crazy adventures you get mixed up in.

You guys' ideal date is spending time together in the dorms after school hours, kicking back and relaxing with a movie or just talking about stuff that happened during the day. He's surprisingly a very good listener.

It's from these laid back conversations that he gets ideas for random gifts to get you. Did you need a new pair of gloves cause the old ones ripped? Some are waiting in the club room. You're running low on potions? A box full of them appears on your doorstep. Want to visit your friends in Paldea but can't find the time? Turns out Drayton took over your assignments for the day so you're free to go!

You're also the only person he'll allow himself to be tutored by. Will literally not listen to anyone unless it's you. Which is why you try to make sure the material is easy for him to digest + it's not boring typical schoolwork, but something he'll actually enjoy.

“Okay! Today we're going over math! Let's have a battle in the Polar Biome so you can see how probability applies in critical hits and such.”

“Aww, my honey is catering to my needs? Aren't you the sweetest thing?”

“No kisses until we're done, Drayton.”

“Alright, aye aye boss!”

He's an idiot, but he's your idiot.

Kieran 🍎

This boy has had a crush on you ever since you first met in Kitakami, but never had the courage to say anything since he was so shy. Now however, he doesn't say anything because he feels like he doesn't have the right to.

After everything he's put you through—from accusing you of stealing Ogerpon, to fighting you in an all out battle, to straight up putting you and everyone else in danger just because he wanted a chance at getting a Legendary Pokémon—Kieran doesn't think he deserves to be your friend, let alone your partner.

Carmine is there as his wingwoman though, cheering him on and telling him how much you appreciate him and clearly return his feelings.

And so, mustering as much courage as he can, he asks if you'll trade Pokémon with him. When you agree, he brings out an Applin, which immediately leaves you blushing but also spreads a huge smile on your face. The two of you officially start dating.

Kieran does is absolute best to try and be the boyfriend you deserve, even though it's his first relationship and he has no idea what he's doing half the time. The members of the League Club are surprised at first, but ultimately support you guys all the way!

You spend time together sharing battle strategies and having your Pokémon playing to try and get along. Turns out Ogerpon and Hydrapple become fast friends by the end of a particular play date, much to your delight.

He's not good at PDA, like, at all. He's still that shy and timid kid from Kitakami underneath it all, so he struggles with initiating affection even when it's just the two of you. You're the one who has to start the hugs and kisses, leaving him like a puddle of goo under your grasp.

Nightmares still plague him occasionally, mostly revolving the journey to Area Zero and how it all could've turned out for the worst if by some chance Terapagos decided to attack someone else. Maybe even you. If you're with him when they happen, you'll hold him tight and whisper sweet nothings into his ear until he calms down, or if he calls you to make sure you're okay, you'll stay on the phone with him until he falls asleep again.

“I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...”

“It's okay Kieran. We're both okay, and that's all that matters.”

You two are the power couple that Blueberry Academy never expected, but deep down, you're just a pair of dorks who fawn over each other on a daily basis.

[runaeveena]

Your dashboard if you were in a d&d fantasy world still involved in fictional erotica discourse part 2

⛰️ berenicesblade Follow

now that the new Mountain Angel volume has come out can we please tag spoilers, some of us are still waiting for our pigeon mail

🦚 faeynadaughter Follow

you can access the volume in full on TomePlane!

🎭 bardcampistrash Follow

until TomePlane acknowledges that its interplanar storage is made possible by binding aboleths to the plane and killing them then we are going to continue not using that platform, thanks

🦚 faeynadaughter Follow

aboleths killed my cousin who was a royal cleric. ill never understand why theres a whole movement to protect abyssal creatures when theyve caused so much damage to our kingdoms. and disliking a pocket dimension which provides thousands of people access to books? your attitude reeks of anti literaturism and mal-aligned virtue signaling and im not sure which is worse

🫒 tenthday237 Follow

Aliizya gets pregnant on page 62

⛰️ berenicesblade Follow

banished

620 Notes

🏰 finchtruther Follow

okay but the way that faelor finch writes every song that perfectly fits pennbiel liiike its giving closet fangirl

🧭 waywardwarlock

seriouslyy!! like what else is "give me your unmarked hand / in the shadowfell we won't be a secret" supposed to be about if not pennipher and corabiel

16 Notes

🌫️ cloudgiant-snailboy Follow

yall please dont fill up the unseen servant tag with your super fucking weird smut posts im just looking for tips on how to find my unseen servant

🪡 scç-writer

the search function on tomeblr does need to be updated but we dont have to kinkshame :)

🌫️ cloudgiant-snailboy Follow

the site is being overrun by virgin degenerates

🍯 treebarkhookhandwagondoor

sounds like you need Wilam the Wizard with Wandering Hands to help you summon the unseen stick in your ass

290 Notes

🗝️ crypt-princess Follow

so whose going to be the first to commission a painting of that scene with Aliizya and the beholder 👀

🍎 bloodmaledickening Follow

i already asked my local artisan he said he's gotten two other commissions for the same scene lmao

🐁 softbarbarian

girl i commissioned a tapestry

45 Notes

🕯️ andersfirelight Follow

friendly reminder that devil deals are a real thing that a lot of people fall victim too and that demons are malicious and do destroy peoples lives if theyre not careful so please be careful when consuming works like Hellionfinity which romanticizes devil deals and fiendish soul contracts

🌾entangled-farmer Follow

imo any work of fiction that involves a romance between any type of fiend is not just problematic but harmful

🕯️ andersfirelight Follow

i used to be indifferent to books that had devil romance interests because like thats their whole thing theyre seducing people to get their souls and the mc overcomes it, but reading through the replies i see that Hellionfinity actually ends with the devil character as the main romantic lead which is super problematic in terms of power imbalance and the fact that he has a redemption arc is so out of touch especially since our military is finally recovering from the azgurian assault

🧚🏻‍♂️arms-of-faelor

helliofinity also has a scene where the main character uses a soul coin that an imprisoned mortal gave him and he uses it to bring the devil out of avernus so he doesnt fully die and no one in the book mentions it or talks about how messed up it is to use soul coins and we never see the now bound to hell prisoner ever again

🕯️ andersfirelight Follow

hellionfinity officially cancelled on my end!

88 Notes

☘️ celest-ial Follow

moment of silence for all the customers waiting on drink orders while the tavern wench gets her back blown out by a new guy every night ✊😔

🦁 king-killa Follow

the gods work hard but Girthy Gladys gets worked harder

57,022 Notes

🎲 beholdersbeholdingme

paladin and warlock romances are OUT! cleric and necromancer romances are IN!

🪭 royalcoinpurse Follow

the only thing a cleric should do to a necromancer is beat him to death so she can revive him and kill him again

🎲 beholdersbeholdingme

❇️ arch-dryad Follow

i think we need to analyze why we're so quick to place women in categories of devious seductress or healer in romance novels as if that hasnt been the pervasive trope that holds magic-touched women back in our actual society

🍯 treebarkhookhandwagondoor

why do you assume these fictional tropes are mf couples only? can a gay cleric not beat his gay necromancer boyfriend to death?

🎲 beholdersbeholdingme

and off! beat him off cmon guys

5,275 Notes

🧀 weremouse Follow

yall ever be talking or whatnot and feel like no one understands you

🪨 sebrenenogdon Follow

ᛄᚠ ᛡᚢ ᚳᚪᚾ ᚱᛁᛞ ᚦᛄᛋ ᛡᚢ ᚺᚪᚠ ᛏᚢ ᚱᛁᛒᛚᚪᚷ ᚦᛄᛋ

🧀 weremouse Follow

say that shit fr (<- looking around clueless)

🪨 sebrenenogdon Follow

ᛋᛁᚱᛁᚪᛋᛚᛁ

60 Notes

🌠 crownofstars

remember when that person made a call out post for the author of ilairepeler for using a ghost writer and it turned out the author was an actual ghost. writing. like a literal ghost writer. like.

🍄gnomestool Follow

arent you the dwarf that fucked a slaad

🌠 crownofstars

how would you like to become a ghost so you can write more witty comments like this for eternity

301 Notes