#because I’m her f*cking husband!

[thesocietalmisfit]

Who do I have to beg to write an introspective fic from Clare’s pov of episode 3 of The Time Traveler’s Wife? Particularly THAT scene

[neowinestainedress]

between us — johnny suh

title: between us

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

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

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

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

visuals

wc: 16.590k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I… I…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” He asks, brows raising.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wh-why do you care?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hum, biting the inside of your cheek.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Us?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It doesn’t work.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s you.

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

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

It’s only you and them.

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

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

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

Attention.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or so you think.

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

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

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

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

Yet, you can’t let it go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Looking for something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They snicker.

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

“Uhm, no…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, want to have fun with us?”

“Yeah…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Too much,” you cry out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Easily. If that was nothing to her…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But I —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: stalker/ unsuccessful kidnap, violence, depictions of blood and assault (let me know if I should add more)

Chapter Word Count: 2318

—-MDNI—-

A/N: Sooooo I’m sorry it’s not spicy like I said it would be… But I absolutely promise the next one will be! Chapters 5 and 6 were supposed to be just one chapter but it got too long so I had to split it… And again please let me know of any errors because this is only proof read by myself.

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Please Read the Below First:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

I’m Not You’re F*cking Maid

Chapter 5

After thorough interviewing of the staff and regular patrons; long searches through copious auction records and meticulous studying of the items in the shop we narrowed our search down to one item: an old jade hairpin. The hairpin belonged to a young lady who was given the gift as a wedding present, however when she found out on her wedding night that her new husband was having an affair, she stabbed him to death with it before jumping to her own demise from their third floor balcony. That was just over a century ago, and she was still wreaking havoc on unfaithful men to this day.

“I mean I get where she’s coming from,” I shrugged as we walked back to the motel. Both brothers turned to look at me with concern smeared over their features. “OBVIOUSLY I don’t agree with all the murder,” they breathed a sigh of relief, “but you can’t hate her for being mad. I would be too.”

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Dean said, raising his eyebrows a little and holding his hands up. I gave him a look of bewilderment.

“What side do you think you’re on, Dean? Because this,” I gestured between us, “isn’t my good side.” He mumbled something incoherent as we got to the motel so I chose to ignore him completely.

“So what’s the plan? It’s getting late and we can’t really do anything now until that charity event taking place at the auction house tomorrow. We’re already pretty clued up on how to get rid of ghosts so there’s really not much to do except to get both your names on that guest list,” Sam patted his laptop, looking at both of us.

“Food?” Dean and I said at the same time.

“Food sounds good,” Sam nodded. The boys turned around to leave when I stopped them.

“Just whilst we’re still at the motel, I’m just going to freshen up real quick.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “really?” I flipped him the bird.

“I can just meet you there? There’s like only one diner in this town and I know the way. I won’t be long.” The brothers looked at each other for a few seconds before Sam looked at me and smiled.

“Sure ok, we’ll get a seat in the window so we can see you coming.”

“Great! I’ll see you soon,” I grinned at the younger Winchester before turning away and letting myself into my room.

I had the worlds quickest shower and threw on some clean underwear and a clean top, feeling better after getting the grime from the day off. I pulled on my jeans, socks and boots, applied a small amount of eyeliner and mascara and tidied my hair the best I could before slinging on my jacket and applying some perfume to my wrists and neck. It was one of my favourite scents: I’d bought it from some lingerie store a year or so ago and it’s apparently one of those aphrodisiac perfumes, however I have no idea if it even works or not. It’s probably a scam, nothing works that well in real life.

After I’d finished sorting myself out - which took no longer than half an hour - I grabbed my phone and keys and left the room, locking up before making my way towards the diner. Night had descended, the air turning cold against my warm skin and the usually busy streets now lay deserted and car-free. It was only about a five minute walk or so from the motel and I was now only about a minute away when I noticed that I wasn’t alone. I’d caught a glimpse of a figure dressed from head to toe in black in the reflection of several shop windows, and they were following my exact trail. I sped up, walking faster down the empty main road and hoping it was all a coincidence as worst case scenarios started to race through my mind. It wasn’t long until the diner was in sight and I breathed a sigh of relief, however the relief was short lived when those footsteps were getting closer and closer, quicker and quicker right behind me. It dawned on me that this wasn’t a coincidence at all - I was definitely being stalked. I started to run, my legs moving before my brain had kicked into gear and I was only inches from the front door when the stranger caught up, slamming me against the wall of the building and putting a knife to my throat, covering my mouth with a gloved hand.

“Don’t make a fucking noise - you’re coming with me,” he said aggressively yet quietly. I could feel the blade of the knife pressing against the soft skin of my neck and I couldn’t help but feel tears well in my eyes, my breath turning shaky as my heart hammered in my chest. I couldn’t even get any words out as his hand was too tight over my lips.

I wanted to cry out for help so badly it hurt.

I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing that this was all a bad dream. My cheek was pushed into the rough brick which grazed my skin, and I silently prayed for my attacker to just let me go or for some hero to come and save me. At that very moment I heard the door to the diner and my eyes shot open, instantly connecting with Deans. I watched as surprise turned to horror which then turned to pure feral rage on his face and before I even had a chance to blink he was gone from my line of sight - but so was the pressure keeping me pinned against the wall. I spun around and I watched Dean throw the stalker to the floor with more force that I thought he could muster and tower over him. Dean didn’t say a word, but the stranger let out a sharp cry of pain as Dean instantly brought his boot down on his ribs. There was a CRACK. He did it again.

And again.

And again.

And then he got down and pinned my attacker flush against the tarmac before he brought a closed fist down on his face over and over and over again, cracking his jaw and breaking his nose. Dean didn’t stop until the man was totally unrecognisable and unresponsive. Standing up off of his limp body, he looked over to me, his furious, almost animalistic stare softening instantly, even through all the blood that now painted his face. He took one step towards me before my feet worked on their own and carried me straight to him. I put my arms out to reach for him and he grabbed my hands and pulled me into his chest with zero hesitation, his arms circling me and his blood-soaked palms gently stroking my hair. I sobbed. I sobbed from the fear I felt, I sobbed for feeling like such a victim and I sobbed for the relief I now felt flooding my veins as Dean held me, not saying a word. Listening to his heartbeat with my ear to his chest, I felt so safe and secure that it made me want to sob even more.

*

Dean ended up taking me straight back to my room - he called Sam to tell him what had happened as he wasn’t going to be returning to the diner. I had my second shower of the day as soon as we returned, wanting to scrub everywhere that horrible man had touched. Whilst I was washing, Dean had headed back to his own room to shower off the layer of blood coating his skin. After I was satisfactorily clean, I dried myself and dressed in that old T-shirt I wore the night before, pulling on some fresh underwear and perching on the end of the bed. I picked up the remote and started mindlessly flicking through channels, hoping to find something to distract my racing brain.

I’d been sitting in the same position for around ten minutes when there was a gentle knock on the door. I held my breath as I got up and walked over, looking through the peephole. It was Dean. I released that breath as I opened the door and let him in. He’d changed from his usual gruff attire to something way more comfortable - a plain white T-shirt and a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms. He smiled at me. A kind smile, nothing like those teasing and sly ones we’d been throwing at each other since yesterday. This one was genuine, and it made my chest feel warm. He locked the door behind him as I padded back over to the bed and climbed on it, sitting right in the centre with my legs crossed. I pulled the T-shirt down to cover my dignity as Dean placed a carrier bag in front of me. I peeked inside. It was full to the brim of all different types of snacks and I grinned up at him.

“You sure do know how to treat a girl, Winchester.”

He let out a soft laugh and looked down at the floor before taking residence beside me.

“You’re the first one who thinks so”.

“Oh yeah?”

“There’s a long line of women who definitely think otherwise,” he smiled a slightly sad smile. We both paused before I continued.

“Well if it means anything, what you did for me today, I-” he held a hand up to stop me as he saw the look of fear flit across my features again, the horrid memory bubbling to the surface.

“It was the least I could do,” he said softly before his brows furrowed, “but to be honest I should never have let you out of my sight.” The almost protective tone of his voice made my heart flutter a little, but It was my turn to reassure him as I placed my hand on his shoulder delicately.

“Dean, none of us knew that would happen. I know you wouldn’t have left me alone if you genuinely thought I was in danger - after all, you DID promise to keep me safe from my own shadow,” I flashed him a grin which he quickly returned, chuckling. We sat for a few moments in a strangely comfortable silence before there was another knock at the door. I went to get up to answer it but Dean beat me to it, swinging it open to show a very concerned Sam stood in the doorway. He looked at me with those big ever-worried eyes and I shot him my best ‘please don’t worry’ grin.

“I’m fine, Sam” I called out to him as I tried to listen in on the hushed words Dean was speaking. They conversed for a while, occasionally throwing glances at me as I rustled around in the bag of goodies Dean had supplied. Growing bored of not being involved with their conversation, I scooted back on the bed to lean back on the headboard and proceeded to flick through dozens of channels until I found something decent to watch. A few more minutes had passed and I’d munched my way through almost half a bag of Doritos when I heard the door close and it was just me and Dean again. He had a paper bag that Sam must’ve passed him, which he held up and pointed to.

“The blood stains came out of my clothes, although Sam said the people in the laundromat were giving him strange looks,” he laughed slightly, those striking eyes of his looking down into mine as he took a few steps closer. I laughed slightly, only imagining Sam’s awkwardness in that situation. I broke my gaze away from Dean for a few seconds, looking down at my hands before looking back up. I could tell he was hovering now, just waiting for me to say something.

“Dean I’m fine, you don’t have to stay.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying for a bit longer if you need me to” his hand ran over the stubble on his chin, his eyes not leaving me.

“Really, I’m ok. I’m probably just going to sit here and watch whatever this is-”

“It’s obviously Men in Black,” Dean scoffed. I smiled, finding comfort in the familiar snarky remark.

“Obviously - I don’t live under a rock Dean,” I rolled my eyes as I stood up, placing my hands on his chest. He was so warm to the touch that it was almost enticing me not to let go. The gentle thrum of his heartbeat was so soothing. But I did let go, and I spun him around to start ushering him to the door. As he was leaving, I grabbed my half eaten bag of chips and started munching again. He opened the door, stepping outside.

“Go back to your room Dean. I promise I’m ok. I don’t want you both hovering over me constantly making sure I’m fine; that will just make me feel worse,” I said as he spun to face me, nodding his head.

“Back to normal. Got it.”

“Great,” I said, sucking the tangy chip dust from my thumb. Dean suddenly reached out and snatched the half-eaten bag from my hand before quickly walking away.

“I’ll see you in the morning!” He shouted back at me before shovelling food into his mouth.

“You ass! I was eating those!” He shrugged in an overly animated fashion, not bothering to turn and look at me as he continued towards his room. I sighed, closing the door and locking it, sliding the chain across this time too. I padded back towards the bed and climbed in, pulling the covers up to my chin. As I started to drift off, the buzz of the movie still playing in the background, I smiled a little to myself:

Fucking Winchester.

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Up Next:

Chapter 6

[spicyclover]

Keeping my husband's name out of your f*cking mouth!

Summary: Rude fan and an amazing husband. 

Request

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

I'm open to requests.

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

To say Y/n has always been super protective of her family is such a small word. She loves her man and can’t bear that people can hate such a wonderful person just because he’s better than another driver.

“Keep my husband’s name out of your fucking mouth.” She yells at the rude fan. 

Max couldn’t be prouder of her than at this exact moment. He usually doesn’t care about the comments made on him, but it’s been affecting his mood for quite some time, and she can't bear it. 

That’s why when she comes back to him shortly after her altercation with the rude fan, he can’t help to find her more sexy than ever. 

“Seeing how worked up you are when someone tries to attack me is getting me hot and bothered. Max mutters alluringly in her ear, closing the door behind him and grinding his solid erection against her entrance. 

“We... we can’t,” She whispers, her head against Max's shoulder, allowing him to put his kisses on her neck. “They are right outside the door.”

“We’ll be fine.” He says, taking her breast in his firm hands. “As long as we keep this quiet.”

He palms her breast before pulling down the cup and taking her hard nipple between his lips. She arches her back, whimpering as he squeezes her hips and dives into her harder and faster. 

“Max,” She whispers his name. For Max, it’s the sound of heaven, and an angel comes to earth to bless him with her greatness. 

“You feel so fucking good,” He tells her, bringing their mouths together. Their breaths mingle as he drives them closer to the edge. “Fuck, I wish I could stay here all night long.”

“Losing your stamina already, Verstappen?” She smirks, and her eyes close. 

“I’m about to fuck that smirk right off your face.” Reaching under her, he cups her ass cheeks in his hand and bucks his hips against her - harder, faster, deeper.

She holds on to his biceps, her legs tightening around his waist as he repeatedly claims her mouth and tastes her moans. 

“Oh, my God,” she breathes. They move together, the two of them finding a rhythm that has them seeing stars as they admire every smooth. 

“Fuck, I’m so c-close! This feels too good…!” She was crying out.

“You want to cum? Cum on your echtgenoot’s cock?” Max asks, breathless. Husband

“Yes, yes! Make me cum, Max, please!” Tears began forming in the corner of her eyes as she held onto the wall for dear life.

Bringing his fingers in front of her, going down until she felt them on her clit, and he started to rub the numb in sync with his thrust.

“Cum on, cum on, my cock! Show me how a good girl you are.”

He sinks deeper into her, sending her off the edge once again. 

“Oh, my God, Max. I can't...” She pants, losing her breath as he chases his own orgasm. 

“Am so close, Schat... you feel so good. I don’t want it to end,” he admits, sliding his hand around her waist to keep her in place. She watches him in the small mirror of his driver's room. Max smirks at her glare. 

She bites her lower lip, trying to hold back her moans of pleasure. She lowers her eyes to where their bodies are connected in the reflection. Max can’t help to find it incredibly sexy, and she’s sexy. 

“Keep your eyes on me, Schat. I want you to see me cum.” His words are intense that she glues her eyes on him. His body finally goes rigid and shakes against hers. 

Max loves those quickies. All this frustration is evacuated the best way possible, with sex and love. 

[ecargmura]

My Happy Marriage OVA Review - A Good Conclusion To Season 1

The OVA came out like a while ago and I’m only viewing it now as Season 2 airs this season—and it already did two days ago. I’m glad to see Miyo and Kiyoka again. All I can say is that this is the most peaceful the two have gotten since they got engaged. There’s no drama for once. Thank f*cking goodness. The last thing I wanted was to want to strangle someone for being mean to Miyo again.

This feels like a peaceful conclusion to the entire first season in a way. Miyo and Kiyoka are happy. We learn more about Hazuki’s family life in that her ex-husband is Okaito and they have a son name Asahi who’s a bit of a brat, but he’s just a kid. We also see conclusions of other characters like Prince Takaito apologizing to Miyo for what happened in the second half of the story with all the Usuba drama.

Although she was shy due to it being her first social gathering with her husband-to-be, Miyo handled it well. She looked amazing in that white dress even if Asahi messes it up later on. The red kimono she wears later on looks great on her too! I feel like the animation studio really loves putting Miyo in all sorts of outfits and she rocks them every time!

With Asahi, I don’t find him annoying as he’s just a bratty kid. He acts like how every kid would. It’s normal for kids to feel jealous when their parents’ attention is elsewhere. It makes sense that he’d feel jealous of Miyo as he thought his mom liked her more than him. It’s a possessiveness thing that kids have. Though, I do think how he was trying to correct her in how to bow properly was a little annoying because who would want to be corrected by a kid? However, Miyo does take it like a champ and follows his example.

The aftermath of the party has Miyo and Kiyoka relaxing at home and they were about to see when Mr. Ugly Forehead Arata arrives to spoil the fun. Damn, why is he still a thing? He even proposes to be Miyo’s bodyguard so that Miyo would have some protection just in case Kiyoka is away. While Hazuki is keen on the idea, it’s all up to Miyo and Kiyoka. Arata, you better not be a creep this time or I’ll transmigrate into the story and punt your smarmy mug.

We also see glimpses of other characters and how they’re doing like Koji training and Kaya doing housework as a servant. Hana also gives Miyo a postcard, updating her on what she’s doing.

Overall, a very good conclusion to the events of the first season and it makes me wonder what will happen next season as I know this peace won’t last long because this is a supernatural romantasy story—things are never easy for the characters when the author wants to keep writing. What are your thoughts on this OVA?

[bohemian-nights]

Okay so let me just get my facts straight here:

When Ratgar Targaryen ran off with Lyanna Stark, Princess Elia Nymeros Martell was completely fine with it. In fact she encouraged it cause she's Dornish, the same Dorne that only entered the Seven Kingdoms through marriage and are the embodiment of fuck around and find out. Or she's an evil Dornish whore bitch who stood in the way of true love. Alright.

When Daemon was married to Laena Velaryon, they were either a throuple with Rhaenyra or she knew she was second place in his heart because Rhaenyra is his true love and was fine with it, cause Rhaenyra deserves the world. This relationship being even more downplayed and disrespected since the show aired ( as this is when the fandom grew)

However Daemon was not in love with Nettles, how dare you suggest that?😡 😡 She was his daughter. That's Green propaganda. In fact Nettles is irrelevant and doesn't need to exist at all.

Why were the previous examples of married men fucking around on their wives, committing adultery, infidelity emotional or otherwise), one of which led to a rebellion that bled the realm and resulted in the death of said wife and her kids, not a problem and the height of romance actually but when it's Missy Anne who is the wife in question, suddenly there is no such thing as infidelity. Daemon was actually super loyal to her.

But please understand that the people who hold these views are not racist. It's got nothing to do with race.

The rules change up when the woman in question looks like them.

I do find it utterly hilarious how they try to say that both Elia and Laena, (yes she’s white in books, but the lines are now blurred since she’s Black-ish in the show) were fine with sharing their husbands when we only have proof of one person being fine with sharing hers and it’s neither of them.

It’s Miss Maegor herself being fine with Mysaria(who is white in the books) and Daemon f*cking:

I also find it even more hilarious how they dismiss this proof and use it as a way to say that Mysaria wasn’t sleeping with Daemon and that she was lying about Nettles and Daemon being lovers.

If they were actually sleeping together then why did my queen flip out when she found out about the dirty Black girl I mean Nettles and Daemon. Why would a known Valyrian supremacist try to kill Nettles for the same thing white a** Valyrian Mysaria did ? See, Daemon and Nettles were not lovers! That’s his daughter he had to bathe with to save water. That’s just his mentee he slept in the same bed with for reasons. Mysaria is a lying whore!

If you want to ignore the mountains of evidence from Mysaria, Mushroom, Lord Moonton, Maester Norren, and Septon Eustace go right ahead, but it’s obvious Missy Anne’s main problem with Nettles is the same problem these fans have with her.

This:

Isn’t much different than this:

Oh, but I forgot. Silly me, I’m not supposed to point this out because I’m obsessed for pointing out their(and their fictional faves) obvious biases.

[chickensarentcheap]

@tragiclyhip​

There's an ongoing debate between Tyler and Esme who felt what and when, as he doesn't like to talk about 'the feels'.  But I think I'll give this one to Esme.  She was pretty smitten right from the start. Even before she went looking for him in that hotel bar ;).  She denies that's what she was doing mind you lol

Tyler fought as valiantly as he could LOL.  Even turning down a sexual offer that same night at the hotel as mentioned above.  Saying "I'm sorry. I can't do this to you."  Two reasons, I think. One was that he already saw her 'more than that' and didn't want to add her to his list one night stands, and two,  he was trying to save her because he knew what a mess he was.

Both have admitted that they never believed in soulmates. Not until it happened to them. So they would have just laughed it off. Tyler would have called it 'f*cking crazy talk'

Esme would have stayed single I think.  She had a lot of distrust in men and it's even a shock she got that close to Tyler. Honestly, Tyler would be dead.

Now this is a shocking one I think. Tyler did.  In Dhaka, after things started happening between them, he suggested that when it was over, they travel together to see if it was just the timing or if it was real.  He said she could visit him, then they'd go to Colorado and he'd stay there for a bit, and then would just travel the world and stop in random places.

IF we go with the original series, Tyler and Esme have never dated.  Outside of being a married couple. In Lost and Found, they've gone to dinner, stuff like that.  But they're already living together at that point.

Their first kiss was insanely hot and consisted of him with his hand around her throat and his body weight pining her against a wall.

I think maybe each other's first true, real love. If that makes sense at their ages.

Esme.  When he was in coma after Dhaka.

They like to go camping, hiking,  they enjoy travelling together, swimming, walks on the beach, he tries to teach her to surf, they paddle board together

It's kind of even I think.  Tyler is exceptionally good at reading Esme's moods and he's able to 'shelve his shit' in order to take care of her.  Esme is an excellent nurturer and she reads him very well as well.  She knows when he needs comfort or contact. He'd never ask for it, but he drops subtle signs and she responds to them

This is a tough one. They're both protective in their own right. But I think this one has to go to Tyler.

The usual stuff. Babe, baby, honey.  But more personal, he calls her 'Me' and she calls him 'Tae' and 'big. bad, mercenary man'.  lol Sometimes 'husband' or 'the Aussie' or 'the old fella'

Tyler.   He stores everything away.  She can mention something once and he remembers it and goes and gets whatever it is to surprise her.  She once was surprised about something he did and she was like "I can't believe you remembered that." And he said "Of course I remembered. I'm in love with you."

Esme. She's definitely more strict than him.

Esme.  she's a worrier. big time.

Tyler.  He'll even chase her out of the house with a huntsman

Esme is huge into the holidays. Especially Christmas.  They're homebodies. Whether it's in Australia or at their place in New York City.  So it's usually just them and the kids.  

[froggywritesstuff]

Eye F*cking | Anthony Ramos

pairings: Anthony Ramos x male!reader (he/they pronouns for reader) (he/him pronouns for Anthony)

warnings: swearing, gay panic, not proofread

A/N: I promise this isn’t NSFW or anything like that, sorry if the title is misleading

Y/N hastily dialed the number on their phone, anxiously waiting as it rang.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s up?” the familiar voice on the other end of the phone  greeted them.

“You’re sick?!” they asked in a disgusted tone, “What do you mean you’re sick?!”

“I mean, I’m sick,” Lin explained, as if he were talking to a toddler, “You have to go on tonight.”

“Wh-what... you can’t just be sick!” Y/N stuttered, stalling to avoid the inevitable outcome of having to perform as Alexander.

“Turns out I can.”

Y/N rolled his eyes, despite Lin not being able to see it, “Well, I can’t go on tonight.”

“You kind of have to...”

“What if I was sick, huh? What would happen then?”

“You’re the understudy, you can’t get sick. And I know you’re not sick.”

“Bullshit, what if I was dead? What would you do then?”

“I don’t know,” Lin sighed, “Look, I know it’s hard, but you gotta go on tonight. You’ve done it in rehearsals plenty of times, you’ll be fine.”

Y/N anxiously tapped the side of his phone. It wasn’t so much the rapping or performing that had them nervous, but the person they had to perform with.

Y/N had rehearsed all the romance scenes tons of times, and sharing a kiss with Pippa while pretending to be her husband and the father of her children, making out with Jasmine and standing dangerously close to Renee while pretending to be in love didn’t faze him too much. It was more the Intense Gay Stares™ he had to do with Anthony.

At every rehearsal, Y/N would end up a flustered mess the second he made eye contact with him, so they guessed that staring at him as if they were secretly lovers in the American Revolutionary War would result in him passing out due to a panic attack.

He had seen Lin and Anthony do it effortlessly every show, so why did it make Y/N so nervous?

Could it have been because they actually wanted to be secret lovers with Anthony Ramos? Who knows.

"So can you go on tonight?" Lin asked, his voice snapping Y/N out of his thoughts.

Squeezing their eyes shut, Y/N nodded, a pained look on his face, "Yeah... I can."

"Great," Lin said, sighing in relief, "You're a life saver, Y/N. Break a leg."

Sighing, Y/N hung up the phone, "I wish my leg was broken."

Y/N then begun pacing around their apartment. That had always been the best way to find solutions to problems that he had been overthinking.

Unfortunately, an hour wasn't enough time for a solution to magically appear, when Y/N got another phone call.

The caller ID was labeled Anthony R.

Y/N had thought about changing it to something else. A nickname he had thought of for him, and of course the random idea of adding an unnecessary heart emojis next to his name-because he definitely didn't like him like that. But he had shut down those ideas the minute they were thought of, wanting to dismiss the silly fantasy of actually forming a relationship with someone he could barely talk to. He didn't even remember how or why he got his number, considering they never texted if it wasn't for work.

Before he could stop himself, Y/N had answered the call, "He-hello?" Y/N rolled his eyes at his own stutter, thankful that Anthony couldn't see.

"Hey, Y/N/N, it's Anthony,"

Heat rushed to Y/N's cheeks at Anthony's nickname for him. He had no idea how he came up with it, considering the two barely talked, but Y/N wasn't complaining.

"Hey, wh-what's up?"

"I'm guessing you know that Lin's sick, and he can't go on, right?"

Y/N hummed 'yes' in response, the fear of stuttering and making a bigger fool of himself got the better of him.

"So, you'll have to go on tonight, right?"

"Uh-huh," Y/N spoke, the nervous tone becoming clearer.

"Great," Anthony sighed in relief, confusing Y/N slightly.

Was he really happy that he was performing tonight? Shaking his head, Y/N shook it off, he was probably just imagining things.

"Would you mind meeting me at the theatre soon? I wanna talk to you about something- before it gets crowded with other people."

Y/N felt his heart rate pick up, "Sure, how soon?"

Y/N mentally congratulated himself, 'no stuttering!'

"Half an hour maybe? So then we'll have about twenty minutes before everyone else gets there. If that works for you."

"Yea-yeah, that works. Ha-half an hour works."

'never mind.'

"Great! I'll see you there,"

"Yup." Y/N said, hanging up as soon as the word left his mouth.

'What could Anthony possibly want to talk to me about? And why does he not want anyone else there?' 

All Y/N knew was that they would have to magically get used to all the stares in a matter of minutes before they had to see Anthony.

______

”Hey Y/N/N,” 

Y/N whipped his head around, their heart pumping fast when they were met with Anthony’s warm smile. Everything about him made Y/N feel better. Sure, he was a flustered mess when Anthony used their nickname ever so casually, and he felt like his heart would burst out of his chest whenever he saw his smile, but it still made him feel better in a way.

”Hey,” they stammered out, mentally cursing himself for stuttering, “Wha- uh… what’s up?”

Y/N’s eyes shifted to Anthony’s fingers fiddling together. He had never seen him do that before, but he guessed that it was a nervous habit or something. Gosh, Y/N could never imagine Anthony seeming nervous. The guy always radiated confidence. Then again, Y/N was barely capable of keeping a long enough conversation with him to make assumptions like that.

"Lin mentioned that you were worried about one of the- well, a lot of the scenes that we have to do together as Laurens and Hamilton."

Y/N awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Anthony's gaze like he had grown so accustomed to doing so, "He-he mentioned that, did he?"

How would Lin have known about it? It's not like Y/N went around advertising their weird little problems. Then again, he wasn't known to be the most subtle guy in the world. 

Anthony gave a small nod, "Yeah, he did. A-and I was wondering if you'd wanna get in some practice? We haven't been the best at eye f*cking in rehearsals." 

If Y/N's heart wasn't racing before, it definitely was now, "Wh-what?"

Anthony's eyes widened, holding up a hand as if he were trying to gain a wounded animal's trust, "O-only if you want to. I don't wanna psych you out before you go on, I just thought you might want to practice."

"Huh? No, no, I'm fine with practicing, it's just..." Y/N paused, looking around suspiciously as if someone were listening in on their conversation, "What did you say?"

"Eye f*cking?" he suggested, as if it were a normal, everyday phrase.

"Yeah." Y/N nodded, eyes widening at how casual it shouldn't have sounded despite Anthony saying it so casually, "What's that?"

Anthony squinted at them, "Do you not remember?"

"I think I'd remember what eye f*cking means." Y/N muttered, growing worried with every second of not knowing what 'eye fu*king' meant.

Eyes furrowed together in confusion, Anthony paused, deep in thought, "Wait... Oh man, you mustn't have been there that day..."

"Wh-what day? What day did 'eye f*cking' become a normal phrase?!"

"Hey, it's nothing to worry about," he reassured, placing a hand on Y/N's shoulder, as if that would calm him down, "It's just a joke we all came up with when we were talking about how gay John and Alex were. Like, how they stare for so long?" Y/N nodded hesitantly, letting Anthony continue, "That's eye f*cking."

Y/N's mouth fell open slightly in shock, "I'm... so mad at myself for not realizing that earlier."

A laugh escaped Anthony's lips, "Hey, don't worry about it. But, do you still wanna practice?"

"Uh..." Y/N paused, mentally debating the situation. It was either get used to the stares then, or on stage and in front of hundreds of people, "Su-sure. What song should we do first?"

"Well, 'Story of Tonight' probably has the most eye f*cking in it, so we should start there?" he suggested, though it came out as more of a question, as if he were asking permission from Y/N.

Y/N felt his heart pick up once again, "Yea-yeah. Good idea."

Sensing his worry, Anthony spoke up, "If you're nervous, just don't think about it too much. Try and think of it as just out characters."

'I can do that, right?' Y/N thought, nodding nervously as Anthony pulled out his phone, trying to find the backup track he practiced with.

Despite being nervous, Y/N loved performing as Alexander. He would always use theatre as an escape. A distraction. As a way to be someone else. And Alexander was a very good distraction from the nervous mess of a person Y/N had come to be. Yes, he was an asshole. (Y/N had mentioned it countless times before, if he could go back in time to meet any historical figure, he would meet Alexander, just to punch him in the face.) But that was apparently the someone Y/N loved to be instead of himself.

"Ready?" Anthony asked, the music ready on his phone.

Y/N nodded, taking deep breaths before beginning to sing, "I may not live to see our glory... but I will gladly join the fight... and when out children tell our story... they'll tell the story of tonight."

Anthony's eyes widened, his cheeks reddening slightly. It had been so long since they had rehearsed together, he had forgotten how much he loved the sound of Y/N's voice.

"Let's have another round tonight," Y/N sang, signaling for Anthony to sing next.

"Raise a glass to freedom, something they can never take away. No matter what they tell you..." Y/N felt his cheeks heat up as Anthony placed his arm on his shoulder, staring deep into his eyes as he sang, "Raise a glass to the four of us. Tomorrow there'll be more of us. Telling the story of tonight."

"They'll tell the story of tonight," Y/N sang, feeling a pang of disappointment when he had to walk away from Anthony.

"Raise a glass to freedom, something they can never take away,"

"No matter what they tell you,"

"Raise a glass to the four of us," Y/N felt his cheeks heat up as Anthony sang, gazing deep into his eyes.

"Tomorrow there'll be more of us," they sang together, arms wrapped around his shoulders, "Telling the story of tonight."

"They'll tell the story of tonight." they finished singing, staring deep into each others eyes.

'It's John Laurens. It's John Laurens. It's not Anthony. It's John Laurens. God, John Laurens was probably hot though-' Y/N repeated in his head in an attempt to calm himself down.

Clearing his throat, Y/N pulled away as the music finished, their cheeks burning hot.

"That was great," Anthony exclaimed, sending Y/N a bright smile.

"Thanks," he whispered, "I understand the term eye f*cking now."

Anthony laughed, making butterflies swarm in Y/N's stomach, "Seriously, you did great. I-I forgot how good of a singer you were."

"Heh, thanks. Yo-you did great too."

The two stared at each other as a comfortable silence settled around them, small, content smiles on their faces. Y/N actually felt calm around him for once, as if his heart wasn't racing at the speed of light from just making eye contact with him before.

A moment passed, when Anthony's hands began fidgeting again. A slightly nervous look flashed on his face, when he opened his mouth to speak, "Y/N, I never got-"

Whatever Anthony could've said was quickly interrupted by the door bursting open. The pair looked up to see a very stressed looking man standing in the door frame, a small sigh of relief leaving his mouth when he saw Anthony.

"Ant, thank goodness," he sighed, walking through the door to come closer toward Anthony, "We have a problem."

"Can it wait, Ryan?" Anthony asked, trying to hide the annoyance in his tone, failing horribly.

Ryan huffed, "Unless you wanna go out on stage with a hole in your costume."

Sighing, Anthony faced Y/N, "I guess I'll talk to you later."

Y/N just nodded, trying not to let the disappointment show in his expression.

Walking toward the door with Ryan, Anthony turned back around to face Y/N, "You did great by the way," was all he could say before he was practically dragged the door, the loud slam preventing him from saying anything else.

Y/N sighed as he was left alone in the large, quiet room.

'Thanks, but it's not that hard to pretend that I like you.' Y/N thought, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, as if that would cure all of the stresses he was feeling.

Now wasn't exactly the best time to come to some sort of terms with his feelings.

______

"Sorry for interrupting you two, I-I had no idea you were rehearsing together."

Anthony sighed, before sending Ryan an apologetic smile, "Don't worry about it. We had pretty much finished up, and the only thing I would've done in there if I had been there any longer would be make a fool out of myself."

Ryan raised an eyebrow, somehow still keeping his focus on the tear he was fixing up in Anthony's costume, "So you two were just rehearsing in there?"

A confused look found it's way on Anthony's face, "Yeah?" he answered, though it came out as more of a question, "What else could we be doing?"

"Anthony, I grew up reading Wattpad fanfiction, I could make a list on what you two could've been doing." Ryan explained, a small smirk on his face.

"Gross," Anthony mumbled with a roll of his eyes, ignoring the way his heart rate sped up.

"I'm just saying that it seems like there's something more going on between you two."

Anthony sighed, "Y/N... No, I-I doubt he sees me that way. Plus, he probably doesn't want to get into a relationship with one of his coworkers."

Ryan huffed in frustration, "Whatever. Your costume's fixed."

"Oh, thanks man," Anthony said, stepping away as he offered a thankful smile toward Ryan.

"My pleasure. Also, my job." he added, pursing his lips, before his tone went slightly more serious, "But seriously, you should talk to him more."

"Ryan-" Anthony sighed, before getting cut off.

"I'm serious, Anthony. You don't have to marry them, just talk to him more."

Sighing, Anthony sent a sarcastic smile toward Ryan, "You're very annoying, you know that."

Ryan shrugged, "I'm persistent."

______

Y/N anxiously approached Anthony as he was waiting near the stage.

"Hey," he said, greeting him with a nervous smile.

"Hey, Y/N/N, what's up?" 

Y/N had no idea how such a simple nickname could give him so many butterflies, "Uh, I just wanted to see you before we started." Y/N instantly cringed at what he said.

'Just wanted to see you before we started? Who says that? Jeez, I can't have one conversation without being weird can I-'

"Oh, thanks Y/N. I actually wanted to see you too."

"Really?" Y/N asked, feeling their heart rate speed up.

"Yeah," he began, beginning to fidget with his hands again, "I know I said that we should just separate ourselves from our characters for the performance, but..."

"But what?" Y/N asked, waiting for Anthony to finish his sentence.

Anthony sighed, shaking his head quickly before forcing a smile, "Never mind, break a leg out there."

Y/N nodded, a rush of nervousness and excitement filling their body when the lights began to dim, "You too." he whispered, before turning around to leave.

______

Though the show ran just as usual, Y/N couldn't but feel like he had done the impossible. All the scenes he'd use to dread, all the eye contact he would use to somehow subtly avoid all the time, he had made it through like it was nothing. Was he having the biggest gay panic on the inside? Of course. But did anyone else know that? No. And that was good enough for Y/N.

Y/N quickly made his way back to the dressing room, not wanting to run into any of the cast members that would most definitely want to question him about the scenes he did with Anthony, and he somehow got through them so calmly, something they had never seen before.

With the door of the change room locked, Y/N finally undressed from their costume. They sighed peacefully, finally having a moment to breathe without being stressed out, or without being interrupted by someone-

Y/N's shoulders slumped in disappointment at the sound of the knock at the door. He hung the costume on the rack and walked over toward the hanger, placing it on the rack. While slipping into their pair of jeans, he finally asked: "Who is it?"

"Anthony." he answered back.

Y/N instantly felt heat rise to their cheeks, eyes widened. In a state of panic, they harshly gripped onto the metal clothes rack, which resulted in their hand slipping and falling to the ground, their head hitting the metal with a 'thud'.

"Shit," they hissed, groaning as they quickly tried standing up.

"Everything ok?" Anthony asked, the concern clear in his voice.

Y/N's eyes widened as they saw the handle shaking, looking down at their bare chest, "Yeah! Everything... everything's good. I, uh..." they squeezed their eyes shut, rubbing the back of their as they tried thinking up an answer, "Do you... do you mind coming back later?"

"Oh, sure. You sure you're all good though?"

"Uh-huh." Y/N uttered quickly, looking around the room for their shirt. With no response, Y/N sighed in relief when they figured Anthony had left.

When they found their shirt crinkled up on the floor, they picked it up with a frown, but wore it nonetheless. Fortunately, they had remembered their hoodie, which would thankfully cover the crinkled mess of a shirt they wore. With their things packed up in their duffle bag, Y/N proceeded to exit the change room, opening the door to be face to face with Jasmine, who had a bright smile on her face, despite most likely being exhausted, “Oh hey Jazzy, what’s up?”

”Just wanted to say that you did great out there!” she gushed, making Y/N smile even more.

"Thanks, Jazzy. You were too."

Jasmine chuckled, "Thanks, but I meant you did great with Anthony."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the mention of him, pretty much knowing what Jasmine was going to ask, "Wh-what?"

"You know, with all the intense, loving staring you guys had to do. To act that calm whilst your crush is staring at you like he's secretly in love with you is pure talent. I thought you would've fainted from the way he was looking at you." she explained, shrugging slightly.

"Wait, what? Y-you think I'm into him?" Y/N asked, stepping inside the door frame more.

Jasmine nodded slowly, squinting at the man in front of her, "You mean you're not?"

"No!" Y/N cried, the crack in their voice telling Jasmine everything she needed to know.

"Right..." she mumbled, before turning around to call Pippa and Renee who were chatting just down the hall, "You guys think that Y/N likes Anthony, right?"

"Think?" Pippa asked, a confused look on her face.

"Who doesn't?" Renee asked, her expression matching Pippa's.

"What?!" Y/N demanded, his voice raising eight octaves higher.

"Oh, come on, you're not exactly subtle about it," Jasmine explained, a small smile on her face.

"Ye-yes I am!" Y/N stammered, his grip on the bag strap tightening.

"You're always so flustered around him."

“No I’m not!”

”It’s ok Y/N,” Renee began, “I’m sure there’s tons of people who like him the same way.”

”Bu-but I don’t-“

“Y/N?” 

Y/N jumped, poking their head through the door space to see Anthony standing in the hall.

”Hey,” they replied, ignoring how Jasmine, Renee and Pippa stared at them with wide smiles.

”Um, can I talk to you? I-if you guys are done…?”

The women in front of Y/N all nodded happily, before walking off, smirking at Y/N and Anthony, despite the hard glare Y/N sent them.

When they were out of Y/N’s sight, he walked fully through the door space, greeting Anthony with a smile, “What’s up?”

”Y/N, I have something to tell you." Anthony began. Y/N couldn't help but notice his hands fidgeting together again. It had to be a nervous thing.

"What's up?"

”Um…” he mumbled, looking around at all the people walking through the halls, bustling to get out of the building, “Do you mind if we go somewhere more private?”

Y/N’s cheeks instantly heated up, but instantly suppressed those thoughts and gave a small nod, letting Anthony lead the way outside and behind the building. It was dark, the only light provided was the fading light bulb in the street lamp. Though Y/N was still able to make out Anthony’s face and all the gorgeous, gorgeous freckles that covered it. Y/N would’ve felt unsafe if it weren’t for Anthony. Despite almost never talking to him, he had formed some sort of bond with him during the performance and rehearsal time.

”So,” Y/N began, rocking their heels on the ground, swaying slightly, “What do you need?”

Anthony felt his heart rate speed up. He couldn’t even describe how adorable that one simple thing was to him. But he knew he needed to tell Y/N before anything else happened. With a deep breath, he spoke, "Lin... never told me you were nervous about those scenes."

"What?" Y/N's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as his feet stopped rocking.

"I... I kinda just wanted to do that scene with you, not in front of hundreds of people for once. Just with you."

Y/N just stared at him, his head tilted to the side in confusion.

‘Fuck he looks adorable like that,’ Anthony thought.

“Why?"

"Because, we never talk. We never hang out. I thought you wanted nothing to do with me."

"I just don’t understand… you could’ve just asked me. I would’ve said yes.”

Anthony sighed, “Well it’s not like you acted like you liked me.”

’Finally someone gets it!’

“You never talked to me. You always avoided me like you hated me.” Anthony explained, “I gave you my number hoping you would use it and talk to me more, but when you never did I just thought you didn’t like me.”

“Wha- I don’t hate you! I-I didn’t call you because I though you only gave me your number for work shit. I thought you only gave me your number cause you thought you had to. I didn’t talk to you because I thought you didn’t want to talk and I didn’t want to bother you! A-and I avoided you because…” Y/N trailed off, staring down at the ground, avoiding eye contact at all costs. Probably wouldn’t be the best idea to say ‘I avoided you cause I really like you and I’m afraid to be awkward and make a fool out of myself, also you’re really fucking hot and I get flustered really easily’.

”Why? Di-did I do something wrong? Why did you avoid me?”

Y/N was unable to make out Anthony's tone. He seemed frustrated, upset, and desperate at the same time somehow. Anthony's shoulders slumped in disappointment, a sad sigh leaving his mouth as he turned around to walk away. Y/N opened his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Instead, he just watched as Anthony walked about a meter away, before turning back around, meeting Y/N's eyes.

"I thought you were gonna stop me." he mumbled.

"Wait, what?"

Anthony sighed, walking toward Y/N, "I thought you were gonna stop me dramatically, like in those movies, you know?"

"Wha- what movies? What movies have you been watching?"

"You know," he began, a small smile forming on his lips, "The ones where they do this."

Y/N's heart beat so fast, he thought it would shoot out of his chest as Anthony cupped Y/N's face with his hands, gently pressing his lips onto his.

The kiss was short, barely lasting two seconds before they both pulled away, but it was still one of the best feelings either of them had ever experienced in their lives.

Y/N's cheeks flushed with heat as they met Anthony's face, "So those kinds of movies."

A/N: I swear I didn't mean to make this 4k words and 12 pages (that's a lie lol). the ending was kinda rushed, but I'm tired and it's good enough

(DO NOT PLAGARISE, TRANSLATE, MODIFY, OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM)

buy me a coffee <3

[laitoxx]

WHY WON'T YOU LET ME ASK THIS ANONYMOUSLY I WANT TO GO INCOGNITO BUT NOOOO

any f*ck marry kill the hashiras GO

Uhm

Dang, putting me on the spot here okay.

Okay here’s the thing. F*cking entails that I would only do it once, while marry entails I can f*ck when I want, but it also has all the struggles of life and wedding hood, and kill means that I’d actually have the ability to do so, which….I clearly don’t rn but ANYWAY

So let’s get to it

F*ck Marry Kill the Hashira

Giyuu Tomioka: F*ck , but this is also assuming he’s gonna know what f*cking is.

Kanroji Mitsuri: Marry. Hands down. No explanation required.

Obanai Iguro: Oh, god. I mean, if I Married Mitsuri, I’d either have to marry him too, or kill him. ………..kill.

Sanemi shinaiciwhjaid I can never spell his name: I’ve literally been sitting here not typing anything debating between f*ck or kill because I would not marry this man even if my life depended on it so I’ll get back to it

Himejima Gyomei: I’m not sure which ones his first name, but I’ll find out because I’m picking MARRY

Rengoku Kyojuro: Marry. Mary. Marry. Marry. Yes I’ll do the cooking, yes I’ll do the cleaning. I will never complain as long as you are my husband, my angel from heaven

Shinobu Kocho: I FREAKING ALMOST SPELLED HER NAME KOCKO 💀💀💀 uhmmmmmm I wouldn’t f*ck OR marry her so that leaves Kill,,,,,so I’ll just go with that 😂

Uzui Tengen: uhm, my one reservation is that he’s already married, but not only that, he’s married to 3 different women, so I wouldn’t KILL him, but I wouldn’t necessarily f*ck him either…………ah what the heck let’s have a good time. I’ll F*ck

Muichiro Tokito: …..uhmmm I’d marry, but not for the reason most people would think. It’s like…..marriage of protection? Like, I want him to feel safe and protected and loved, I. Genuinely, I think I’d just adopt him. I mean really. But let’s say Marry for rn.

Okay, so let’s have a recap

Tomioka Giyuu: F*ck

Kanroji Mitsuri: Marry

Obanai Iguro: Kill, sorry, but you were kind of a bastard anyway

Sanemi Shitzugawakanda: I settled for Kill because I really don’t wanna f*ck this man I’m sorry.

Himejima Gyomei: Marry

Rengoku Kyojuro: Marry

Shinobu Kocho: IT DID IT AGAIN kill

Uzui Tengen: F*ck

Muichiro Tokito: Marry

Wow, my body count is two but I literally have 3 husbands….

Maybe I will make uzui my fourth…

[v-world]

Character Analysis of Moon Gang-tae

A really complex character. I know I’m late asf. Let’s get into it.

Honestly, I love how this character was written. I love how Kim Soo-hyun acted out this character. He showed every single emotion he was feeling without having to say a single word. He amazes me every time with his acting. How you can read his character’s emotions. How you sometimes have to really dig and analyse his face to even find the right words to describe how the character feels. He’s so talented.

But anyways, enough fangirling. Gang-tae has/had a love-hate relationship with his mother and brother. Don’t get me wrong, I know for a fact he loves them to the moon and back, but he also shows a little bit of resentment for the two. Understandably so, tbh.

His mother: 

-Confessed one night, while she was in a drunken state, that she birthed him to take care of his brother. When I heard her confess that? My heart broke. I cried for a good minute. I can’t imagine hearing that at his age (Not really sure what age it was but really young) and being able to come back from that and forgive her for saying that even though she isn’t really apologetic for what she said because she probably couldn’t remember. I know he was heartbroken because they were hugging when she said that and he let go of her slowly after. 

-One day, she punished him (by hitting him on the arm and on his side) for letting his brother go home first without him. On the way home, he was all beaten and bruised up. She yelled at and scolded him as she confessed that she only had him learn martial arts so he could protect his brother. He just stood there and took that beating. I think he felt like he deserved it a little bit. But I also think he was just exhausted of/over getting yelled at and punished because of his brother and being his bodyguard. She was mad at him for not protecting his brother. It is then where he lashed out at his mother, after he’d reached his limit of being punished for something he didn’t want or ask to do. He told his mother how he truly felt and, instead of sympathising with her son in that moment, asked him how he could say something like that.

-I completely understand that having an autistic child means needing to pay extra attention to that child. But that doesn’t mean that neglecting the emotional and physical needs of your other is right. Much less birthing one for the sole purpose of taking care of that child. That is wrong. I’m disgusted with the way she can’t control herself and her drinking (I know in that scene she was drinking for the ceremony of her husband but she got black-out drunk). Again, I know times get really f*cking hard and she might need just one more drink but c’mon. I’m disgusted that she couldn’t even acknowledge that Gang-tae is a human being with emotions and needs too. And I know that it’s hard having to manage both but what she did was just straight up wrong. If that’s what you birthed Gang-tae for, STFU and take that to the grave. Don’t mess up your child even more. I cannot respect her for neglecting and treating Gang-tae so horribly.

-However we are shown a few examples of the motherly love she’d shown Gang-tae and the, like, one time she showed him some sympathy when he was asleep. She understood and sympathised with him that it must have been hard for him too.

-When Gang-tae was on the roof with his best friend, he asked him if he thought his mother feels sorry for and regretted how she treated him. His best friend asked if it would make him feel better. Gang-tae shook his head no, tears beginning to fall. That broke my heart. Joo-ri’s mom came up and asked Gang-tae to understand his mom. To understand that it wouldn’t have been easy to raise two boys as a single mother. Especially one that’s autistic. It was there where I saw two things: 1) He was tired. He was tired of being understanding. He was tired of having to put someone else before him. 2) He understood how hard it must’ve been for his mother now that he’s in her shoes.

Sang-tae (his brother):

-He has some feelings of hatred toward him. Can you blame him? His mother told him that her sole reason for giving birth to him was to protect and take care of his brother. His life is dedicated to his brother. 

-We see these feelings of hatred when he contemplates on saving his brother from drowning. In that moment, he thought about what life would be like if he didn’t have the responsibility of looking after someone else and finally being able to think about himself. He thinks about how all those years of responsibility for someone else can go away if he just waited a little longer. If he let it happen. But it was then that we were shown that he’s still human. He’s still an emotional being. He still understands the concept of love and family. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do that and then live with that because he loves his brother. Even if his life is made harder because of him.

- Over time, he grew to love him so much more, so much so that he wanted to protect him. Protect him, even if it was at the cost of his own self. He hated himself for hating his brother and even seeing him as difficult at times. But what’s important is that he always brushed it off and understood.

-We see the true shared love between the brothers whenever Gang-tae tried his hardest to fake a smile that Sang-tae would hopefully recognize to assure him he wasn’t upset or angry or annoyed with him to protect his feelings. We also see it when Sang-tae saw Gang-tae’s true smile in his sleep. When he was able to truly recognize his true smile.

-He grew to love him so much, he was hesitant to let him go and live his own life without his brother under his protection. Sang-tae knew his brother didn’t want to let him go, so he reminded him: Sang-tae belongs to Sang-tae.Gang-tae belongs to Gang-tae. It was so beautiful to watch. Sang-tae heading on his own journey. Gang-tae realising it was time to live his own life and let his brother go.

-From a young age he had to grow up quickly and take responsibility of a child because of their mother’s untimely demise.  For all his life, he’s had to suck up his pride, put his feelings away, neglect himself and put someone else before him. But in the end, Gang-tae was finally able to do things he wasn’t able to before. Travel. Date. Just live his own life.

Gosh, I love this series.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like and reblog <3

~Thank you so much for reading~

[b612sunsets]

We will receive you oh so nicely in our humble home, make you feel welcomed and when you think you stand a chance with me, guess what? Yes, Gaon is still living with me because we’re happily married. He supports my decisions and knew you were coming. Surprise?

My husband can be a bit passive aggressive, don’t worry though, he means well and I’m so f*cking lucky, proud and in love:

S: I didn’t know you had so many talents.

G: When I first met you, I didn’t know you had so many talents either :)

Elijah is our daughter that likes to joke a lot. Sometimes my hubby laughs and joins her on it. We love to tease each other. Gaon knows I would never leave him and right now he’s only helping with my plan, but then I’m the one annoyed because I wanted my hubby to at least feel jealous like the other times and they’re taking it too far, so it’s not fun anymore, I’ll put a stop to it: 

E: Are you together or not?

Y: We’re not.

G: Chief Kang told me he absolutely needs you.

Y: You’re talking too much.

S: I guess you don’t feel lonely anymore. I’m envious.

I know, I hit the jackpot with them. Let’s start eating this lovely meal made with so much care, love and time every day by my Gaon. Before that, here comes the last member of the house, remember her? Anyways, this is our little chaotic and lawful family. We will toast to it while you’re haunted by your past mistakes right in front of us, haha. Cheers to you too because I’m a gentleman:

[taraknowless]

Watched Sex/Life over the weekend and I’m getting really frustrated that the New Adult genre always has to be so f*cking irritating. Why is it filled with plots that don’t make sense and characters who make one dumb decision after another to a point where it’s really hard to root for them?

I found the premise for Sex/Life actually really interesting, but the execution was just poorly done. At the end of the show, it’s obvious that Cooper and Billie should just get a divorce and the only thing keeping her from leaving him are the kids. It also became crystal clear that she would’ve picked Brad all along if he hadn’t been such an immature asshole (I found his character the most realistic and likeable btw). After eight episodes, you really think Billie made her decision because, well, that’s what the entire show was about, but I guess her answer turned out to be “Wait, I could just cheat on my husband!!!”. She wants the best of both worlds - which I can completely understand - but at one point you gotta decide if you wanna live a wild life with your very well hung (yes, that was very hard not to notice) ex-boyfriend or if you wanna make the safe choice and stay with your husband. But make a decision for crying out loud.

And all of that is just immensely frustrating, because I do think that a lot of women find themselves trapped in a life that they actually didn’t want and are slowly starting to realize that and that’s a super interesting premise for a show, but Sex/Life was.... just not it. I guess what I’m saying is that it could’ve been a lot better. Who doesn’t have a password protected MacBook after all?!

[onthecuterside]

Who... are... you..?

🎤 You're not the one 🎤 I fell in love with, baby 🎻🎻. OK, sorry, got carried away there... Thanks @whysojiminimnida for tagging me in a game where we voluntarily reveal information that could allow terrible people to identify us!

name: Can't go there, but my parents used to call me KJ, my friends call me K, and I'm quite fond of my handle.

sign: Taurus. I'm mostly placid but can be tormented into a rage.

fav band/artist: BTS is in a class of experience all of its own. But on the normal fan level, I'm eclectic: Joni Mitchell, PJ Harvey, Nick Cave, Nina Simone, David Bowie, Billie Eilish, Beastie Boys, Björk, Beatles, Brahms. Lots of Bs, apparently.

last movie: House of Gucci, watched it on the plane yesterday. (spoiler alert) How did I know already that Tom Ford became Gucci's designer but not that Patrizia Gucci murdered her husband??? Priorities.

last show: Umbrella Academy and Stranger Things (with my family). Heart Stopper and Our Beloved Summer (with my daughter). I rarely get to watch things for myself (although I should count BTS content there lmao - currently making my way through BV3).

when you created this blog: September 2021. I was desperate for adult conversation about JKK.

what you post: mostly reblogs of BTS beauty / thirst posts so I can find them later, a few posts where I notice something or have a thought that I haven't seen expressed in my Tumblr circle. I made 2 gifs but it’s hard to make everything work and I don’t have the right software :(

other blogs: Nope! I'm totally new to this whole thing.

followers: 49, which is 49 more than I expected. I only created the account so that I could send asks.

do you get asks: option not switched on. I've been doing my job 18 years and I still don't feel like an expert. No way I can take on that role after 16 months in the fandom.

average hrs of sleep: 4-6 hours. It's never enough. F*cking hormones.

instruments: Violin (passable), piano (mediocre), guitar (basic). Voice!

what i’m wearing: strappy summer frock. Half my wardrobe is summer dresses even though winter is ~8 months long where I live. They are so cute and easy to buy and I am possibly in denial. Mismatching underwear with a molded wire-free bra because BEST DISCOVERY of the pandemic, I am never going back.

dream job: I'm doing it! Professor - I get to hang out with smart people all day and talk about interesting things.

Perhaps novelist as an alternative? If writer's block was not a thing.

dream trip: South Korea, Ecuador, Greece. I love travelling and have done a fair bit of it but in my more apocalyptic moments I know we should probably drastically reduce air travel emissions and concentrate on dream tripping closer to home. Astral travel instead?

favorite songs: Favourites are hard. It's so mood dependent. In BTS, those that pull me in the most: Black Swan, Louder Than Bombs, What Am I to You, Pied Piper, Ddaeng, House of Cards, anything by Agust D. In non BTS, Massive Attack - Teardrop, Beatles - I Want You (She's So Heavy), Nick Cave - Red Right Hand, Joni Mitchell - Case of You, Billie Eilish - When the Party's Over, Your Power, No Time to Die, Lovely... I seem to be on a Billie trip atm).

Tagging @rantingravingliving @ffjj5 @jmdbjk @chikooritajjk @spankpjm b/c I'm curious!

[wildberryautumn]

Live thoughts while watching Dracula Das Musical Part II

(first of all i'm sorry that this has taken more than a year to complete, i have no excuse other than i'm gay)

-Lucy’s spooky “la-la’s” omg (no don’t kill the children you’re too sexy uwu)

-oh no she sounds like a dying cat :/

-hearing the men of the scooby doo gang all sing together does something to me hmmm

-at first I thought “oh good we didn’t see poor Lucy’s death on stage” but then ON HO THERE’S HER HEAD WHY >:(

-Dracula, gatekeep gaslight girlboss ^^ (Borchert’s voice is so pleasant to hear, especially when he’s speaking calmly like this – I couldn’t stay mad o.o)

-Dracula is depicted as such a /cool/ guy here; I, too, would roll around the floor for him (he’s watching Mina do this as she sings – what does musical logic say is really happening??)

-oh shit there’s Val Helsing?? How long has he been there that’s so embarassing D:

-did Dracula crush Renfield’s face? :0

-you upset Van Helsing >:(

-I was confused at first when Jonathan came in right after Mina’s "If I Could Fly/War ich der Wind" song, but Dracula came and knocked him unconscious? I wonder why they chose to have Jonathan on stage during this scene (yes I am thinking about a Dracula/Jonathan relationship!! “Were he not your husband he would be a dead man” ok but why did you feel the need to explain yourself? And what does that even mean – you care about Mina so much you don’t kill her husband? Sounds pretty gay suspicious to me...)

-nothing says seduction like screaming how many people you’ve killed to your crush 😊(I jest I f**cking love “Mina’s Seduction/Die Verfuhrung” ok)

-Mina singing about loving Dracula while checking on her husband? Hmmm (internal screams)

-JONATHAN WOKE UP

-omg Dracula bit Mina right in front of Jonathan!! :0

-ALRIGHT TIME FOR THE COOLEST ACTION SONG IN A MUSICAL

-wait how did Zu Ende end – all I saw was the wall close?? How did Dracula escape?? I'm so confused

-Uwe Kroger >< he fits the role of Van Helsing so well idk he’s just...so good and OH HE’S SO HOT IN GLASSES

-I wish there were more moments to show off Mina’s intellect

-oh no Van Helsing don’t cry you’re so sexy :’( (This is so sweet though, I love the layers this small moment adds to his and Mina’s relationship...Although these men use Mina as a means to work through their feelings from their past relationships which isn’t fair to Mina, who is her own person. I guess Jonathan and Lucy love Mina for Mina...I wish these characters were gay developed more)

-I never understood the context for “Before the Summer Ends/Frost an einem Sommertag” and it’s actually SO SAD...my love for Jonathan has increased tenfold

-my second favorite song is “All Is Dark/Die Zugsenquenz” and I know it’s mostly a reprise, but I enjoy Dracula being emotionally connected and thus vulnerable with Mina!! (are we supposed to believe that the scooby doo gang heard all of that, and that it was only one half of a conversation? If I were them I'd be so confused lmao)

-I think it’s funny when an immortal creature has an existential crisis – and I’m noticing it’s only those who were once mortal that experience this. Is it saying that people – writers/creators – assume it would be horrible to live forever, or at least at some point become a burden? It also seems ridiculous to me that someone like Dracula would get tired of existing when it’s only been a few centuries, and not thousands of years like in Dracula 2000 or Queen of the Damned. (In the latter, Akasha is the only vampire I can think of who is thousands of years old and not sad about still existing, and even wants more life – then again, she was in a frozen state for a while, so I wonder if this cancels out a few millennia?). Or, is this what people think must cross immortal beings’ minds because none of us can actually know what it’s like to live that long? Just fun to think about...

-why would Dracula go to sleep in his coffin at night?

-oh it was a trap that makes sense

-love the way Mina turns sl*tty whenever she’s in the presence of Dracula, and he acts like a supportive husband OMG IS HE HUSBAND MATERIAL? IS THAT WHAT I’M SENSING?

-yes Borchert’s Dracula is a total DILF and I support this

-that ending felt...suggestive? Like the way Jonathan and Van Helsing “walked in on” Mina and Dracula – it felt like they were interrupting an intimate moment. Not sure if this was intentional or not, plus it felt like it could be accusatory too, like they "caught" Mina. I wonder what these men are thinking, that Mina outwitted Dracula? hmmm

-yaythey included the curtain call ^^

-overall I enjoyed it! my favorite casting was definitely Van Helsing & Dracula

[bohemian-nights]

Hi, who is speculated to be cast for nettles? And where are people finding out casting rumors? I'll be so upset if they race change her I seriously hope it's not true

Lol her name is Rhianne Barreto. She followed some of the HOTD cast and I believe some of them followed her. People are saying she’s Nettles because she’s tan(and yes I say tan because she’s barely even non-white and she’s most certainly not black)🤦🏽‍♀️ I’m not joking, someone saw her photo on twitter under the speculation and went “Nettles😍”🤦🏽‍♀️🤬As if Nettles isn’t described and shown to be Black in the official art and the lore video back in 2016:

So that’s how this has started. People assuming sh!t and saying this tan woman(no disrespect to her but she’s not a brown skinned black woman which Netty is) is Nettles🤦🏽‍♀️Never mind the fact that she very well could be Sara Snow(which she better f*cking be Ryan Condal/HBO). Nope has to be Nettles. We can’t let you silly negros have everything ☺️

Honestly I’m be surprised the way fans are trying to twist things and if HBO does actually try to race bend the only in canon Black character for “diversity”

Some fans have been saying for months that they want Nettles to be Asian because they made the Velaryon’s Black(they also made Mysaria Asian, but yeah let’s focus on Black people)🤦🏽‍♀️ Like yeah I’m all for diversity, but not at the expense of taking away roles from the hands of actual Black people. Asian people and Black people do not have the same experiences. We are not the same.

This is just as bad as if they made Nettles white. As Black people, particularly Black women, we get so few positive representation in the media and you want to take that away? Nope. This isn’t f*cking cool or cute. I am not here for it and will not be supporting the show.

HOTD already has been shown to be anti-Black. They turned the Velaryon’s Black and gave them the shittest story’s particularly Laena. in the books is a white woman who is loved by her husband. She dies from childbirth complications not from lighting herself on fire. I do not care how you f*cking spin it, that scene was not empowering. That was traumatizing. Her whole arc was a joke. You turned a loved woman into a sad neglected wife who lits herself on fire because her husband doesn’t love her when you made her blackish.

If this woman is Nettles(for your sake HBO I hope she’s Sara cause you won’t get away with this without backlash) then this is the final nail on the coffin. Honestly this move would be less about diversity and more about not having a black woman being shown in a loving relationship. That’s really what this is about. This actress is a more socially acceptable(model minority myth) than if she was kept as her brown skinned Black self.

I can’t in good conscience support a show that perpetuates misogynoir. I hope this actress is playing Sara Snow and I’m just overreacting, but if not, prepare to be dragged HBO🤷🏽‍♀️ Don’t think you’ll be able to get away with this.

[unknownstarrl]

Some info about my Yuu/MC, student #9(Beta)

made in: picrew

Name: Morela Hill

Kanji: モレラ•ヒル

Romaji: Morera Hiru

Quote: "Me? A princess!? Oh, no no no...you must be wrong! I am your f*cking worst nightmare!!!!"

"I am no damsel in distress, I am a dragon in a dress"

“For once, I’m happy for someone else to take the credit. You were prepared to sacrifice your life to save me.”

V/A: Ashe <English>, Fujita Maiko <Japanese>

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bicurious

Age: 16

Birthday: May 31st(Gemini♊)

Height: 169cm

Eyes color: maya blue(normal), golden(using magic)

Hair color: ink black

Dominant hand: right

Homeland: Japan(born), England(now)

Dorm: Ramshackle

Class: 1-A

Years: 1st

Power level: powerful

Nicknames: Yuna(Yuri), Morel(short name), Hill(NRC staff, Adeuce), Little prawn/Ebi-chan(Floyd), Young lady(Lilia), Alice(Chen'nya), Herbivore(Leona), Mademoiselle Sorcière(Meaning: Miss Witch - Rook), Maiden/Misstress(Vil, Silver), Angelfish(Azul), Hechwoman(Grim), Emrys/Merlyn(Malleus), Human(Sebek)

Occupation: NRC student, Vice dorm leader of Ramshackle, sorcerer's apprentice, Sorceress of Avalon, the Dragonlord, Artist

Club: none

Relatives: Unnamed parent✝️

Wilfred Hill(uncle/adoptive father)

Judie Hill-Williams (maternal aunt/adoptive mother)

Yuri Hill(twin)

Grim(partner)

Cupcake(pet)

Best subject: Astrology, History

Language:English(Old trade),Japanese,German, Dragon Language (inspired Lost in Translation, @twsty-lav Language Barrier Au)

Favourite foods: Carbonara, Coconut cream pie

Least favourite food: Fish

Hobbies: reading horror fiction, watch anime, play game with Idia, drawing, writing poem

Likes: magic, anime, games, food, meat, dog, black rose, lily flowers, thriller, black and red, disney, romantic poetry, karate, anything fluffy, violin, guitar

Dislikes: Crowley, bullies, someone hurt Yuri, toxic people/relationship, hexes, fish, NPCs in NRC, singing/dancing in front of everyone, Sebek (he's annoying)

Talents: Self-defense, Martial arts, Dragon language, Fairy language, Dancing, Singing, Drawing, Spell casting, Healing, Swordswoman, Sealing magic, Breaking the spells, Playing video games, Long range shooting(gun, bow, crossbow), Weapon summoning, Playing guitar

Magic iems: ring(amulet)

Weapon: sword, gun, bow, crossbow

Backstory:

Morela and her twin have had to depend on each other since childhood, their parent always fighting each other and they never gave any attention to the twin. Their father was barely at home and their mother was always drunk. Sometimes the mother beat up the twins for very small things, so they had a lot of bruises on their bodies. When Morela and Yuri were 10 years old, their father died because of car accident, their mother was very happy thinking she would be able to take all of her husband's money so she went to the bar and had fun with the celebratory party but she was got robbed and killed on the way back home. The twin were forced to move to live with their uncle in England. In here, they had known that their uncle is a wizard, they were taught magic and also changed their last name to his uncle's surname-Hill

While walking around the house, the twin accidentally discovered a secret room that their uncle didn't tell them. It was a room with nothing but a strange mirror hanging on a wall covered with a cloth. Because of curiosity, the twin removed the cloth and……The twin' journey begin here.

Personality:

Morela is pretty grumpy person and kinda rude when talking to someone she doesn't like. She doesn't like to socialize with strangers and prefer stay at home and play video game than going outside. Morela really love her brother, she won't let anyone harm her twin. Morela is also an impatient person, if she waits something too long, she will give up and go home

Trivia:

Her name "Morela" meaning "apricot" in Polish

Her Japanese name was Yuna but after moved to England, she changes her name to "Morela"

Morela was born 5 minute before Yuri

Morela represents "Magic" - half of Merlin's soul

Morela loves drawing, her paintings often have sad themes

Morela had a friend name Aera but she passed away because of cancer

The magic the twins use aren't the same as Twisted Wonderland's magic, so the Dark Mirror couldn't sense anything ( that makes everyone think that the twin don't have magic)

Morela won't use her magic unless there's an emergency

Unlike her twin, Morela can control her magic quite well and she can use magic with her hands instead of using wand.

Because Crowley was too gracious, he refused to provide money for the twin, Morela have to draw pictures and sell them on Magicam to buy personal items and tuna for Grim

Morela also has a tattoo on her nape

Funfact:

When the twin were young, they used to fan of disney so when they look at the Great Seven, they always feel familiar

Morela accidentally used fire magic and almost burned down her uncle' library

Morela is really powerful that she can break Riddle's Unique Magic and unaffected by Jade and Jamil's Unique Magic

Like Yuri, Morela was hated by everyone at first and they thought she used dirty tricks to get enroll in the school.

Because of "beast tamed", all students are more friendly with twin

Morela and Yuri often comes to Ignihyde to play video game and watch anime with Idia

Morela often talk to her twin by English (Old trade) when they are alone or whispering

All dormitories want the twin are member of their dorm but they always refuse

Crowley want to adopted the twin but they refuse (of course)

Morela and Yuri prefer Crewel than Crowley

Only few people in NRC know the twin have magic ( all playable characters and Crowley, Crewel)

Morela tired of Crowley and NRC bullsh*t

When Morela use magic: