#giving up on him too bc why is his face so complicated

[deadwhimzy]

that's not Adam Driver. that's Eve Passenger LMAOOOO

[criminalamnesia]

HIIII!!! I just wanted to say that i really love ur writing! I've read ur traitor series and I can't wait for part 4! I'm a new author, and english isn't my first language, so it's sometimes very hard for me to write bcs i'm stil not that good, but ur fics have helped me improve<3💗!

thank you so much!🫶 im glad you’ve enjoyed the series! and speaking of part four, here it is :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

simon didn’t turn to watch you leave the gym.

he stood there, eyes forward, mask clenched in one fist. he could feel the blood drying on his skin. he made no move to wipe it away.

he didn’t blame you for your anger— he couldn’t. he understood the rage. had felt it himself a time or two.

but he couldn’t take everything lying down.

did he deserve your wrath, your fury? yes— and he knew that. there was no making up for what he did; he realized that, but why couldn’t you understand?

he’d never fully taken his walls down around you, and that was no fault of your own. he was a guarded man, and his past gave him every right to be.

he had been burned and broken too many times. he’d seen the people he loved murdered because of him.

he swore he would never let that happen again. he put those walls up, and you knocked some of them down.

but there were some you’d never gotten through, at least, simon told himself you hadn’t. there was always something he was holding back, a piece of himself he wouldn’t give freely. he told himself it was because he couldn’t stand to love you so deeply and then watch you leave.

but really, it was because he needed an out. he needed a way to justify his leaving if something ever happened— and that’s what got him here.

simon trusted the 141 with his life. he trusted his captain with his life. price had never led him astray; john knew his face well before any of the others. well before you.

and when someone you trust so deeply, someone you’ve followed for years, tells you that the person you love has betrayed your team?

you can’t help but believe them. and that’s what simon did.

the evidence was coincidental at first. wrong place, wrong time. but then, everything started to seem like more than a coincidence. pieces of a complicated puzzle were fitting together. things only you and the rest of the 141 would know were leaked.

and all the signs pointed to you.

and although he didn’t want to, simon couldn’t help it. the second price had confided in him that you may be the rat, simon began to distance himself. you had been confused, but he had offered no explanation.

price was the one to question you first. it was a heated conversation in his office, consisting of him showing you the evidence and you becoming furious at the accusations.

johnny came to you next, buttering you up with his flirtatious and unarming words before asking if you’d leaked information.

then there was kyle, who pleaded for the truth. he told you that a case was being built against you, and that if you came clean now, things wouldn’t be so bad.

simon never tried to talk to you about it. the other men would tell him what you’d said, but he had never gone to talk to you himself.

maybe it was pride. simon wasn’t trusting, not after his past. he had let the 141 in, had let you in. and now you were a suspected traitor, and he was angry at himself. angry he hadn’t seen it sooner; angry he’d let you in at all.

but maybe it was hurt. hurt that you’d done this to him, to the team, after knowing everything they’d been through. after stitching up wounds on the battlefield and taking bullets for one another. after sharing simon’s bed and whispering you loved him.

all he knew was that he trusted price. and as evidence built, so did the distance between the two of you, until you were tied to that chair.

and simon had taken his hurt, his anger, out on you. he wasn’t proud of it, and he knew now that he was wrong. but he was still a little angry. angry because you couldn’t see his side of things— not like he could see yours.

so, he was an ass. he didn’t apologize. he snuck flowers to your bedside but kept his distance. he told you to watch your tone because you were still part of the team, and speaking to price like that was only something an outsider would do.

and he told you that he’d spared your life because he had. anger had consumed him, and truthfully, you were lucky he hadn’t done worse.

even if he’d smothered his feelings for you with rage, he still harbored love for you, and that’s why some part of him held back.

he knew you would probably never forgive him. he had made his peace with that.

but he couldn’t stand the fact that you couldn’t understand why he’d done what he did.

the creak of the gym door opening broke simon from his thoughts. he pulled his mask back on before turning around and making his way to the door.

it took one firm knock on the door for price to answer.

the door clicked open, and price sighed when he saw simon, scrubbing a hand over his unruly beard before letting the taller man in. price turned, walking back to his desk chair, while simon closed the door behind him and locked it.

“this is a bloody mess,” the captain said, falling heavily into the chair. it squeaked at the sudden weight, old leather crinkling and crackling.

“doc came and saw me earlier, ‘fore she left for the night. told me about some new injuries, and yelled at me for letting that happen.”

simon didn’t speak. price’s eyes met his, and he sighed again.

“fuckin’ hell, simon. what the fuck did you say? doc said she had to stitch up both their hands.”

“doesn’t matter what I say,” simon spoke, eyes still on the captain “they won’t fuckin’ listen.”

price shook his head. “that’s not true, ‘nd we both know it,” he sounded tired as he spoke, dark bags under his eyes. he paused for a moment, then spoke again.

“spoke to laswell after you left earlier. she said she’ll try to speed up the transfer process. tryin’ to avoid more fuss, and im not fightin’ it any longer.”

“they’re part of our team,” simon spoke, tone rough.

price shook his head. “they are, but I can’t keep doin’ this. can’t keep pushin’ off transferin’ because of you lot. it may be better for us, but not for them.”

the room fell quiet. simon inhaled, exhaled. his fists clenched at his sides before quickly unfurling once more.

he didn’t have a right to be mad at you for leaving, but he was.

“laswell say anythin’ else about tha’ transfer?” simon asked.

price leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “not much. no word on where or with who, but even if she knew, doubt she’d tell us. for their sake.”

simon gave a small nod and made to turn, but froze as price spoke again.

“she did say she didn’t know if it would go through. they’d have to pass another eval.”

they both knew what that meant. if laswell said that, then she didn’t believe the transfer would happen. kate wouldn’t outwardly say it, but price had known what she’d meant.

pushing the transfer through wouldn’t matter if you couldn’t pass a physical and psychological evaluation— and laswell didn’t think you could.

although he wouldn’t admit it, price was unsure, too. torture was something that took an incredibly devastating toll on the mind and body.

but torture at the hands of your team? there was no telling the damage that that would do to someone. to you.

an honorable discharge was more likely. and, if that was the case, then your rage would likely grow tenfold.

you career, your livelihood, taken from you by the hands of the men you trusted the most. your family, cutting you up and pushing you out.

damned by your team and your country, regardless of everything you’d done for both of them during your service.

you were just another cog in the machine, one that had been damaged and discarded, and a discharge couldn’t make that any clearer.

he thought back to what you had said in the gym earlier, before you’d left.

‘you should have killed me.’

maybe he should have.

thanks to everyone for your patience! also just incase you didn’t see my post about it—

im no longer doing a taglist! my side blog @troiastitans will reblog my works from now on, so if you want to know when I post, follow that account and allow notifications!

as always, thank you for the love! (also I hope you all enjoyed a little peek into simon’s head!)

[joeyfranchise]

is it cool that i said all that?

joe burrow x fem!reader

summary: everything you thought you said and everything that happened… was all a dream? how can you go through this again, tell joe your real feelings, and calm yourself down enough to let the truth out? and how will he take it?

warnings: MDNI!!! (and i’m not gonna tell y’all again bc i’ll start blocking.) smuttttt, it’s fluffy too! oral (m. rec), p in v, spitting, manhandling ofc, size kink! a lil light choking again. this one got a lil nastier than i originally intended. cocky joe is always it’s own warning.

word count: 4.1k.

note: THIS IS A PART 2, original fic here (x). it starts exactly where it ended, so it will not make sense if you haven’t read part 1 first. much love to yous. 💗 (so sorry it came a day later than i wanted it to.)

you rub your sweaty palms against your shorts and bite at the inside of your cheek. you watch joe as he toes off his shoes and socks, making himself comfortable. for some reason, that helps you calm down the tiniest bit.

he sits next to you expectantly, silently waiting on you to speak. your heart is beating against your chest as hard as it ever has before. you’re swimming around inside your own brain like a goldfish. the room is spinning.

you feel joe’s hands - his large hands - grab your shoulders, steadying your now swaying form.

“y/n, you look like you’re gonna be sick. are you sure you’re okay?” he questions, voice laced with concern. he reaches up and tucks a strand of your sweaty, slightly tangled hair behind your ear.

somewhere, deep inside your head, you’re screaming out all your feelings. you’re telling joe you love him, you appreciate him, he’s everything to you. but the words just won’t slip past your lips.

joe’s worried. he’s not sure what’s going on, but he’s trying to think of something, anything to help you.

you close your eyes and try to take a few deep breaths, sorting through your thoughts like a rolodex. you clench and unclench your fists. you count. one. two. three. four. five.

when you open your eyes you look at joe, still looking concerned. you avert your gaze to the wall. “alright joey,” you start, “here goes nothing.” you take one last shaky breath.

“i have a lot to say so, i’m just gonna spill it out okay?” you ask, once more giving yourself a moment. “go ahead, i’m all ears.” he says, rubbing your shoulder. finally, you face him again, his blue eyes staring into yours.

“listen, joey. i don’t want this to be weird. i just… i think i’ve liked you as long as i’ve known you, and i think i’ve known for a while that i… i don’t just like you. i have serious feelings for you. and i know that’s a complicated predicament to put us in because we’re best friends, but hopefully you’ll feel the same. and if you don’t, then i hope you can understand because i can’t lose you as a friend. you’re all i have, i care about you more than anything and i can’t lose you. i literally cannot.” you spill out, emotions beginning to flow. joe looks at you with a soft gaze. he opens his mouth like he’s going to speak, but then he closes it.

“and i know it’s sudden joe, i know it’s abrupt. but the teasing about our size difference was really getting to me, i’m assuming you must’ve caught on to that. and i know it’s probably wrong to be fantasizing over your best friend or something but i just… i love you and i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.” you’re word vomiting. tears begin to stream down your cheeks as you apologize to him. you’re afraid you’ve ruined everything, that he’s gonna walk away from you, leave this friendship and everything you’ve ever had behind.

but why would he?

before you can register what’s happening, you’re being pulled into his lap and crushed against his chest for a hug. you begin crying even harder.

“y/n, bub.. don’t cry.” he says, rubbing your back soothingly.

“will you look at me?”

you pull away from his tight hug and look into his eyes once again as he wipes away your tears with his thumbs. “everything is okay. breathe for me. we’ll keep talking in a minute. just breathe in for four seconds, hold for four, blow out for four, hold again and repeat. square breathing, remember we learned that together?”

you try. you try so hard to regulate your breathing, emotions, feelings. but here you are, straddling his lap just like in your dream - your stupid fucking dream you haven’t even gotten to yet - and you can’t even focus on breathing properly.

joe’s strong hands find their way to your arms, rubbing soothing circles into your biceps. you breathe in, hold for four, and try to do square breathing. you close your eyes, once again trying to just gather your thoughts. joe lets you sit in your silence, allowing you to process before he speaks his mind.

once you open your eyes again, still finding his gaze on you, you think you’re ready to continue. before you can start the conversation back up, joe is speaking.

“let me say my piece, okay?” his voice sounds sure, his gaze is stern. you’re still afraid of where this is going. all you can do is nod your head yes.

“i’ll start by saying i figured it out on the football field, but it was solidified when you spent the night with me. i don’t think it’s crazy or weird that you like that, i’d be lying if i said i haven’t thought about you in that manner too. i mean, any guy and girl as close as we are.. there’s bound to be sexual or intimate thoughts bouncing around in our heads somewhere, right?” he cocks his head to the side, a small gesture that lets you know he’s being honest, that he isn’t bothered by anything you said. that helps you breathe easier for a moment.

“honestly y/n, i’ve loved you a long time. as a friend, as something more. and it’s selfish but… it’s like i always knew you were gonna be there. i always knew you were my girl. i hate that i’ve never come to you about it before. i hate that i’ve dated around and never talked to you about these feelings, because deep down i know it was wrong. i think i’ve known for a while we both felt the same about each other.”

a part of you wants to be mad, because in truth it is kinda fucked up for him to just leave you in waiting, but your brain is focusing on something else. my girl. my girl. my girl.

he just called you his girl. something about that possessive phrase has you reeling, and after the evening you’ve had, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t want to make you jump his bones that much more.

“y/n… anything to say?”

shit. you zoned out.

“oh, sorry joey.” you mumble out, closing your eyes and shaking your head lightly. “i mean… i’m glad that you feel the same way. i think i might be a little mad at you later, but right now i’m trying to process this all. but… it’s cool that i said all that?”

“yeah, it’s cool. is it cool that i said that? and would it be cool if i said i loved you back?” he asks, a playful lilt to his tone.

“i mean they do call you joe cool, so, everything you do is cool.” you smile down at him, and he matches your expression. you let your hands wander to the nape of his neck, lightly scratching at his hair.

he sits up, pressing his chest into yours, nose inches from your own. something is starting to feel oddly familiar.

“and if i kissed you? that’d be super cool right?”

“the coolest.”

his hands come back up to cup your cheeks as he brings his lips to yours gently. you gasp out in shock. they’re softer than they were in your dream, and he doesn’t taste like mint. he tastes more like mango. probably all the damn body armor, you think to yourself.

as he deepens the kiss, slowly and sweetly, you reach over and pinch yourself.

“did you just… pinch your arm?” he asks, breaking away from your lips to catch his breath.

“yeah… so you know how i looked like a sweaty disheveled mess when you got here?”

“i’m familiar. you still do.”

you smack his arm. “well i was… kinda…” you start, then you bury your face in his neck.

“you were whacking it?” he laughs, tipping his head back.

“no fucker, i wasn’t whacking it.” you laugh too. “but i was having a pretty good sex dream. involving you. and me. and a lot of manhandling.”

you can feel your cheeks heating, your heart is beating hard again. “is that so?” he asks, teasing you again. “you wanna re-enact it?”

hell no. nope. this isn’t happening again. you can’t be, you aren’t dreaming again right?

you hop off his lap and run to the kitchen, turning on the cold tap and splashing water all over your face. you’re definitely awake. joe hops off the couch after you, laughing at your dramatics, something he’s very used to. before you know what’s happening, he’s rearing back and smacking your ass. hard.

“JOE!” you scream, jumping forward. “what, i figured that’d show you that you’re awake.” he shrugs, leaning against the counter smugly. you grab a cup from the cabinet, filling it with some of the cold water before finally turning off the faucet. you walk forward a few inches toward joe. “don’t start something you can’t finish.” he warns, wagging a finger at you. you start to tip the cup, but he’s moved in a flash, running out of the kitchen and down the hall.

you peek around the corner and joe is nowhere to be found. tiptoeing your way down the hall, you look into the bathroom quickly to see if joe’s hiding there. he isn’t. you keep walking, almost to your room. before you register what’s happening, a hard body is leaping at you then pressing you to the wall. the cup of cold water is spilled all over you as a result.

he’s laughing, face inches from your own. “what the hell, joe!” you exclaim, but soon you’re laughing too. joe leans back in to kiss you again and you gladly accept his lips, loving how they mold with your own.

he mumbles a little “jump” into your kiss, so you do and wrap your legs around his waist. your hands find his hair again, you weave your fingers between the shorts strands and tug lightly, earning a groan in response. joe nips at your bottom lip, pulling it slightly with his teeth.

he pulls back from the wall with your body still wrapped around his and walks you into your bedroom, and all of this is beginning to feel oddly familiar again. he tosses you on the bed. you look up at him with lustful eyes as he stares back at you. the air in the room is thick, heady.

“joey…” you breathe out, your voice lower than usual. your tone is dripping with arousal. you watch joe swallow, knowing he’s just as turned on as you. he’s in this moment too. as you’re peeling your now cold wet shirt off your body, you hear him respond.

“yeah, baby?”

his voice is deeper too. he sounds so gruff, so sexy, it’s almost like you can feel him speaking between your legs. whatever is happening in this moment is like your dream to the max. arousal and sexual tension to the nth degree.

“there’s something that didn’t happen in my dream that i really wanna do, is that okay?”

you slide off the bed and onto your knees, crawling forward a bit until you’re directly in front of him. “and what’s that?” he lilts, smirk crawling across his face again.

“i wanna suck your dick, joe.” you rasp. you watch as he tilts his head back, his eyes rolling. a small “fuck” escapes his lips. from your position on the floor you can see that’s at least half hard in his shorts. you reach up and grab the waistband, tugging his shorts down. joe shrugs his shirt off at the same time, leaving him completely bare to you.

his cock springs up, slapping against his stomach. somehow, someway, it’s bigger than what you imagined in your dream. you wrap a hand around the base and bring the head to your lips, sticking out your tongue to kitten lick at his tip teasingly. you take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him off.

what won’t fit into your mouth is being worked by your hand, in quick motions. you look up at joe through your eyelashes and he thinks he could cum right then. slurping sounds fill the room as you take him into your mouth eagerly, over and over again.

joe suddenly looks at you before grabbing your hair in a makeshift ponytail. “you want rough, right?” he rasps, his eyes hooded.

“mmmph… mhm.” you mumble, never removing his cock from your mouth. “tsk-tsk. talking with your mouthful. so rude.” he teases.

his hands tighten in your hair and he gives you one final glance before taking over control and beginning to fuck your mouth. you let your hand drop as joe finds a rhythm, pumping his hips forward as he holds your head into place.

tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes, your lips are starting to get sore, but you don’t care. the fact that joe is using you so roughly to get himself off is almost enough to have you creaming in your panties. after a few minutes of joe’s relentless face-fucking, you feel his hips stutter, but before he cums he pulls out from your mouth with a loud pop.

“stand up.” he commands, his voice low and gravelly. you rise to your feet before him, craning your neck up so you can look into his eyes. he lifts you again, your legs wrapping around his waist. he walks you closer to the bed again, plopping you down onto it.

he’s still standing above you, his gaze is giving you chills. it’s almost like a switch has flipped, like he remembered suddenly how this all came to fruition. that you love how much bigger he is than you, you fantasize about him throwing you around, and he intends to use that to his advantage.

“strip.”

you stay still for a few seconds as you try to process what’s happening and gauge joe’s reactions, but when he repeats himself you strip immediately, starting by unclasping your bra and then taking off your shorts and panties, tossing them aside aimlessly. you lay bare before him and, just like your dream, you feel confident. his eyes rake over your form and he licks his lips.

joe leans over you, finally climbing into your bed, slotting his knee between your legs. “look at you, all spread out. you’re perfect, y/n. fucking perfect.” you shudder.

he brushes your hair away from your neck and starts kissing along the column, the tip of his nose occasionally brushing your ear lobe. your soft moans fill the room, but you let out a sharp gasp as he moves his leg up, pressing his thigh against your core. joe chuckles against your throat.

“joey, i can’t take it anymore, please.” you beg, scratching at his shoulders. he moves away from your neck slowly, you can see his pupils blown wide as his eyes once again rake over your naked body. you grind down on his leg, searching for something, any kind of friction to ease the ache in your already soaking wet core.

he begins kissing your lips again, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip and you part them for him, his tongue melding with your own. he snakes a hand down your body as he moves his thigh away from you, and you whine at the loss of contact. his kisses trail down your throat again, over the soft planes of your collarbones, and onto your chest. his tongue slowly drags over your nipple, flicking around the hard bud.

finally, his hand makes its way between your legs, the tips of his calloused fingers making contact with your swollen clit. he slides his hand lower to gather some of your wetness before rubbing tight circles against your clit.

“j-joey, ah fuck..” you moan out, pressing yourself down into his hand. “please fuck me, joe. i need it so bad.”

you’ve never been more sexually frustrated than you are in this moment. even though you’re with joe, he’s touching and kissing you, your burning desire and needs aren’t being satiated. you need him to fuck you, rough and hard.

“needy, huh?” he laughs, kissing the valley between your breasts. you want to answer, but the words get caught in your throat and instead you just let out a strangled whine. joe smirks, wondering if you’ll get there just from him touching your clit. he lowers his hand, dipping two fingers into you as his thumb takes over your clit, your body jerks as a reaction.

you arch your back off the bed, pressing down as hard as you can onto joe’s fingers as he works them in and out of you. when he suddenly stops, you scream frustratedly.

“calm down, princess.” he says, his smarmy tone filling your ears and making you want to slap him. you look down, watching joe as he finally grabs his hard length and strokes it a few times. he slowly presses his tip into you and you whine at the stretch of him. your eyes are screwed closed, your breath coming out in short puffs as he inches forward slowly, until he’s completely seated inside you.

“it’s so big joe,” you groan, your voice completely fucked out.

“or maybe you’re just really small, baby.”

what a fucker, you think. he grabs your legs at the thighs and brings them up, hooking your knees over his shoulders. he pressed his weight into you so that your knees are next to your head, and from this position you can feel everything. every inch, every vein. it’s euphoric.

his hips start moving finally, and you bite your arm to stifle a loud scream that threatens to break through your lips. joe roughly moves your arm away from your face.

“fuck no, let me hear you. let everyone around hear who’s making you feel this good.” his dominance reverberates through your bones. maybe this is what heaven is like?

you don’t say anything, but you allow every sound, every breath and gasp of pleasure fall from your gaping maw as joe pounds you relentlessly into your mattress.

“you look so pretty like this baby, you’re taking it so well. thought it’d be to big for you.” he teases, his hand finding your throat. once again, something similar to your dream. but this is reality, and that makes it a thousand times better. “joe, i’m so close.. please, i’m..”

although his actions are dominant, the way he’s pressed against you, his large frame caging your much smaller one against the bed, and his large hands are holding you down, the sincere love and affection that’s shown in his eyes is what’s going to take you right to that edge and drop you off.

“open your mouth.” he commands. you do as you are told, too into the moment to even argue. you part your lips, and suddenly joe is spitting right into your mouth. “swallow it.” who are you to say no?

you obey him. his hand finds your clit once more and after a few erratic strokes of his fingertips over your swollen bud you’re coming, harder than you ever have before. every nerve ending in your body is set ablaze, white hot fire spreading over your skin.

in this moment, all you know is joe.

your orgasm prompts his own as your heat tightens around him, and after a few pumps he’s filling you up before falling forward and pressing his sweaty forehead against your own. your eyes are still closed, but you know he’s smiling. you’re smiling too.

joe pulls out of you and you both hiss. you feel him move from the bed, and you hear his footsteps pattering down the hall to your bathroom as he turns the shower on. when he comes back, your eyes are open, waiting to see his face.

“come on,” he says, lifting you up. “let’s go clean up.”

he helps you stand in the shower, and the intimacy of the moment feels easy for you both, it’s comfortable. you’re thankful for that. he helps you wash, your body and your hair, and then the two of you stand under the hot stream and laugh and talk after joe finishes cleaning himself.

as he helps you out from the shower, you can’t help but tease him. “risky move there cumming inside me, by the way. you want children this young? in your prime?”

“i know you’re on the pill, y/n. i know everything about you. plus, a kid with you wouldn’t be so bad.”

you’re instantly flustered at his answer, but you quickly brush it off. you keep talking as you both make your way down the hall and back to your room. “if you know everything about me then what am i thinking right now?”

he laughs as he walks into your closet, rummaging through a stack of his clothes that you keep there for him. he foregoes boxers, which makes you giggle, and you bite your lip as you watch him pull the pair of sweatpants he chose up over his ass. you make a mental note to get a handful of it soon.

he turns around, tossing you one of his old college shirts. “you’re thinking ‘wow, i really wanna order thai food and watch scream with my sexy hot best friend who just rocked my entire world.’ sound accurate?”

you laugh at his statement, but you agree. “damn joey, you’re good.” you walk over to your dresser to grab a pair of panties, slipping them on below the shirt joe gave you.

the two of you go out to your living room as you order your food and joe preps for the movie. the rest of your evening is spent cuddled up as you eat together and relax, another one of those moments of comfortable silence between you. the simplicity of just enjoying each other’s presence, something you both love.

you fall asleep with your head on joe’s chest, the soft lull of his breathing and the beating of his heart helping ease you into a lovely slumber.

wake in the morning, it’s because of a shrill ringing. this is familiar, you think. your body almost slips into panic mode, because no the fuck you did not dream this shit again, but when you feel joe’s hard body pressed against yours, and in nothing but gray sweatpants, you thank every god you can think of.

you look over to one of your end tables, noticing it’s his phone that’s ringing. from where you are, you can barely see it, so you crane your neck up to get a better look. you can see a girl's name and contact photo lighting up the screen.

okay, you tell yourself, don’t panic. he has a lot of friends and stuff. just wake joe up so he can answer it.

you shake him awake, his groggy eyes taking a moment to open.

“morning y/n.” he says, finally looking at you. you pick at your thumbnail nervously. “morning joey. your um- your phone was ringing.”

he reaches for it, tapping the screen to see his notifications. you see his expression drop, which makes you feel even more nervous.

“it’s my friend kate,” he starts, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. “i told her we could have brunch this morning since i didn’t figure i’d be busy… but that was before we— i didn’t know how our talk would go.” his guilty tone lets you know everything you need to know, that more than brunch was being planned.

you slide off the couch, walking back toward your room. joe is quick to follow. you turn, stopping him by placing a firm hand to his chest. “go have brunch, have a good time.” your small, defeated voice pierces joe right through the heart.

“y/n, please. i love you, i told you i love you. i want you to be mine. that’s all i want, from now til forever. just, let me explain all that to kate, okay? and then i’ll be back. we’ll spend the whole day together. does that sound good?” he’s groveling, you can tell. you can’t really be mad at him, because he made these plans prior to what has just happened between you, but you’re reminded of what he told you yesterday, and that pisses you off.

“fine, joey. go. we’ll talk when you get back.” you bite, turning on your heel and stalking off to your room, slamming the door behind you.

taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @bengals-barnesbabe @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 (i added everyone from the replies on part1 & all taglist requests- i hope that’s okay! 💗)

[snghnlvr]

hope they caught us. / sim jaeyun

jake x fem reader

synopsis: you knew that an academic girl like you shouldn’t be involved with a mischievous boy like jake, but both of you hide it well…right?

includes: 3.5k words | SUGGESTIVE | fluff too to balance it out lol | jake being a hot mischievous boy next door | but he’s smart! we love a hot, smart guy who thrives attention for y/n | jake’s hand placements⁉️ | y/n is shy but jake likes that | smooth talker jake yessir | LIP PIERCING JAKE !!

extra: hey bffs i’m back from my own grave 👯‍♀️ i lost motivation for a moment but it’s fine, ill try to post more~ | i’ve watched anne with an e so the language here is kind of similar to that style bc i love that fucking show and it inspired me 🤷‍♀️ | enhypen 🔛🔝 | jake has been so fine lately omfg | jake is a fucking simp!!!

likes, comments, and reposts are very much appreciated <3

[below the cut]

“j-jake-“ you pulled away from his grasp, heaving for air after that short yet everlasting kiss both of you shared secretly.

“you know we can’t be seen together.” as your flushed cheeks were on display in front of him, despise all of it, your mind was full of worries and anxiety of being caught by one of your family members or risking into a more intense situation in your bedroom.

“god, you’re so pretty whenever i look at you.” you scrunched your nose at your boyfriend’s compliment as he had a small smug smirk from your shy, silent reaction. you quickly turned your head towards the door, eyeing the hallway like a hawk to check if there was anyone near by and to your fortune, you can still hear the laughter and voices from the adults downstairs. you felt relieved, sighing softly.

your pondering thoughts became interrupted when you felt jake’s hand slither around your waist and pull you back again closer to him. you gasped, having both of your palms being in placed of his chest. he raised an eyebrow as you were taken aback from his gesture that was normal for him to do.

you were a blushing mess, however jake was smiling like a trickster- not giving a damn about what he’s doing to you, rather amused. you stared at him, observing how obnoxiously handsome he is with his hair being slightly disheveled up from your hands a few seconds ago, his hooded eyes gazing to yours and his lips being stained from your favorite shade of red from forbidden exchange that was yet mutual. the sight was scandalous but breathtaking.

you wanted to stare at him for hours, like a painting from a museum, trying to analyze every beautiful feature that earth has offered.

as the moonlight reflected your bodies from your small window, jake felt a breeze from it. the window’s open a tad bit. he sat down on the little space your window offered for sitting. he admired your wavy locks being swayed by the night air and your crimson cheeks being glowed from the radiance of the moon.

both of you smiled in delight, contented with each other’s presences.

jake. sim jake. adventurous yet devilish. elegant yet charming. sincere yet … complicated to deal with.

as you met the rebellious individual, you had no intentions of befriending jake. you didn’t like his trickster behavior in front of his friends, spreading unhumorous jokes, say the meanest things about teachers and most of all having an egotistical mind that one cannot top.

especially jake, for he is not only annoyingly attractive but naturally intelligent in his studies. maybe that’s why you didn’t entirely hate his guts.

your parents warned you about jake ever since he became not only your new classmate but your new neighbor. how innocent looks can cover their sinful stunts.

the way he showed himself to you at a family dinner at your place, he wore all black clothings including black ripped jeans along with multiple rings on his slim fingers and a lip piercing being proudly displayed on the right side of his face. in spite of it, you were surprised how someone your age can look daunting to look at. it somehow concerned your parents how one can allow their child to have piercings.

you would rather be the opposite. your closet would be filled with soft pastel colors. you have two piercings - the lobes. the ones where you would get at a young age and you never recall as you grow older but yet looking at jake’s, you thrived the curiosity of one.

but somehow, it ease your parents’ tension against him when he became a smooth talker and how he was gonna major engineering in college. you gawked at him, comparing how you were gonna take pre-med in college. just wondering how smart can he be?

and of course, as a shy girl you would always stray away in making new friends as if you wanted to be friends with jake. at a family gathering, you were the first one finished with your meal and went upstairs to do your unfinished homework. as a result, jake’s parents admired you for your hard work and dedication, wishing that their son can do the same instead of partying and socializing. not that there’s something wrong with having an extroverted personality, but something to prioritize with studies.

perhaps you did do it on purpose for the sake of your ego against jake and to maintain a good reputation as a daughter in your family.

unlucky enough, jake caught your act rather quickly. he would always scan you whenever you would converse with someone, how your lovely smile would appear, your glowy brown eyes shining under the gleaming light, how he had noticed you have small dimples on both sides of your cheek if your lips curved, how you scrunch your face when you receive a compliment, and your hair look looking smooth. he wonders what it’s like to touch it with his fingers and smell the scent that your hair obtains. there’s many more observations jake silently took note of.

all of his thoughts are genuine. about you. everything he thought about you are genuine.

he noticed whenever you would quickly glance at him and immediately look down at your plate as if you were scared. you would nibble your bottom lip and fiddle with your fingers on your lap whenever the adults mentioned jake to you.

needlessly to say as he took interest upon your first impression, he wanted you to be on his mind as well. in a way that makes him be stuck in your head for days and let curiosity rise to know him better.

the first step in his plan, to offer you to be his tutor. it surprised his parents, amazed at seeing a drastic change in their son after being in your house for one night. although he might in a higher level than you are, he wanted to find a way to know you better.

the night he was supposed to be partying with his friends, it was with books and you.

it was awkward. you felt awkward. your mind had awkward thoughts. the two of you in your room together in the midday of an autumn day. although your window was closed, your body was cold as you were cuddling yourself with a fluffy blanket of yours while sitting down.

next to you was jake, his uniform was a bit crumpled and his tie loosen up a bit after saying, “hope you don’t mind.” to you.

you noticed how his hair was a bit out of place, having the urge to fix it as the perfectionist you are.

however, despite looking tired from his classes, he seemed curiosity and his eyes would sparkle whenever something in your room caught his eye. like noticing your piano medals spread across in a shelf or picture you’ve kept when you were in art class in second grade pinned in your walls.

“so… what subject are you struggling with?” you were the first to break the awkward silence, eyes glancing at the emptiness of your desk table hoping that it would be filled with a textbook of any subject.

“statistics.” jake replied after, gulping in nervousness to make any wrong move on you. you raised an eyebrow.

“oh!” you straightened yourself in your chair, making your blanket slowly fall down. your shoulders from your cami top were exposed to jake, making him take into admiration of your beauty from your single lamp open.

you looked at jake. “the test scores were given back today right? can i see your test score so i can have an idea in what to teach you?” you smiled at jake as a reassurance message.

jake’s eyes widened a bit, taken aback from your sudden request. you noticed the moment of silence, thinking that jake is embarrassed to show you but jake was thinking of something else. he didn’t except nor imagine this scenario taking place. it was something that might make you mad.

“it’s okay, i’m here to teach you not to make fun of you, you can be honest with me.” you nodded at jake, seeing him zip his back bag open behind him. he scooted his chair closer to you.

now you were taken aback from the sudden gesture that he wasn’t even fazed. his eyes were glued onto his folder but your eyes were glued onto his side profile. under the luminous light, it complimented his features well that you questioned how handsome can this boy get?

“whatever you do, please don’t get mad.” he spoke in a low tone. you distracted yourself with another thoughts, nodding quickly so you wouldn’t get caught doing the unforgiven, staring.

you gawked once he opened his folder, with the numbers written in red marker. a big fat 100 smacks you on the face.

“w-what..” you were in disbelief at what you were saying. you were confused as to why he needed tutoring when he got a perfect score. you studied so hard he night before the exam to get a passing grade of 100, but it only resulted in an 80. even worse, jake’s grade wasn’t curved.

it made you be in a lost of thoughts as you glanced at jake. you noticed how his shoulders crouching down and avoiding eye contact like a guilty kid caught in the act.

maybe he can be your tutor instead which is humiliating to accept.

“you lied?” jake whined mentally at how devastated you sound. he was trying to quickly find a way to defend himself but what would he say instead of, i just wanted to know you better? sounds like a psychopath.

his lips trembled, “i-i .. okay look y/n..” you softened when you said your name with such delicacy and softness that it slowly made you forget being disappointed at him. “i just wanted to know you better, not as a neighbor but perhaps a friend since we will be often seeing each other a lot.. and i couldn’t find a way to approach to you without being weird..”

jake rambled with his words, slowly breathing in a fast pace after his chest was relieved from all of the stress he endured of defending himself. he looked at you with sad eyes, knowing that he disappointed you, that you probably never want to ever see him again and how you will snitch to him to your parents and they will forbid you to ever go near him again. but instead of crying your heart out and running away as he imagined, you instead chuckled. you were amused at his creative idea that you wonder how can he have such an idea like this one?

“you wanted to know me better?” you asked again, appreciating the thought that he wanted to be your friend but in an unusual way.

“yeah..” jake lowered his shoulder, whispering his reply to you. he looked at you chuckling at him.

“we can be friends jake, you didn’t have to do all of this.” you slightly rubbed your eye with your index finger, tired of giggling from jake. “i know.. i guess i was scared that i might look like a weird guy to you.” he embarrassingly scratched the back of his hair with his hand. his hair bounced against his flustered head.

“well you seem weird from the first impression but other than that, you seem harmless.. i hope.” you scrunched your nose unconsciously, making jake’s heart fluttered from the dimples appearing on your face whenever you do it.

the more days spent with jake under the act of “tutoring him”, it was him tutoring you instead since he told you that he enjoyed math and physics.

you thought he was a crazy scientist planning to ban away society from earth but the more time you witnessed him enjoy doing homework, you couldn’t help but think about him from time to time in appreciation that there’s someone who’s sincere as him. effortless and a natural.

during those moments, he did nothing but make you laugh and somehow make your heart flutter from his doings. it influenced your heart to be a mess. moments such as pulling your back bag from behind so there’s less weight and it’s lighter to walk with it while going home together from school, raise your blanket higher whenever it lowered from your body whenever both of you studied, and making your body electrocuted from the constant coincidental touches both of you share unknowingly.

although there would be times where jake pulled out his witty jokes and random comments to gravitate your focus onto him, he never forced anything onto you. he keeps his boundaries on alert and respected your feelings.

for instance, if he tried to make a conversation with you while you were studying and you tell him to be quiet, he would. immediately. he would slide the chair away from you, slightly sulking and try to find ways to occupy his bored self.

playing games on his phone is one thing but another would be exploring your room. jake found your art journal from middle school while snooping your drawers next to your bed.

or that one time he unfortunately came across your polka dot underwear lying freely on the floor when he eagerly and abruptly came upstairs after school as you tried beating him first to your room after screaming that you didn’t clean your room.

yeah that was the first time you yelled at him.

besides that, there would be times where you found jake adorable such as trying not to sleep whenever both of you were alone in one of each other’s room, whining in how a certain teacher sucks at their teaching job, and the crazy story times he experienced in his life. it made you realize how such a human can have so much impact in your life in less than a year?

nevertheless, you had to avoid each other at school to not let any rumours about the two of you knowing each other be spread across. jake completely understood as you didn’t want any drama from occurring in your final year of high school. there would be times where the both of you spared glances and smile at each other, missing each other’s presences deeply.

there was a moment where both of you laid in jake’s bed after studying, taking a small break before you return home for supper.

“y/n i’ve been thinking..” your heart thumped after hearing jake’s deep voice while closing your eyes. you never heard jake with this tone so it felt new and exciting.

you opened your eyes, turning your head to your right to face him as his stare was focused on the ceiling above him.

“i really like being with you. you made me realize how there’s always good in a bad place. and i really want to continue to be with you…” you sharped a breath when his picky was interlocking with yours.

he finally turned at you and for once you were grateful that he didn’t witness how red your cheeks were becoming. you were become a mess at how sparkly his eyes were and beautiful his lips can be. especially with that piercing of his.

this feeling was brand new to you. you’ve never been close to a boy before as you were merely focused in your education. boys weren’t prioritizing your mind.

“do you like being with me too?” jake asked, softly as if you were gonna be broken glass. he was being fragile in case he will do something wrong to you. he spoke with hesitation.

your mind was filled with memories that you spent with him from the past few months and you can’t but wanting to spend more memories with him.

“of course i do jake. every moment i spent with you, i feel free against the world that my parents created from me. you make me feel like it’s okay to step out of the comfort zone.” you smiled against your lips.

jake soon did the same as you continued to stare at each other with silence, having a significant spark in each other’s hearts for the first time.

“can i court you then?” jake’s hand slowly creep to yours, softly grasping it. you looked down, your heart pounding as if it was gonna explode from your rib cage.

god you never felt more in love than before. “i would like that jake..” you sheepishly smiled, letting go of his grasp to hide your shy smile but jake didn’t allow that.

jake slowly took the hand that was covering your beautiful smile, taking his hand with it. you were silent, eyeing his every action as jake kept staring at you.

your fingers were lingering the cold metal against his lips and it made your body shivered.

it was like he was having a different emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t identify but you felt safe when you were with him.

jake pecked your palm and held it against his cheek. he closed his eyes, processing the fact that you’re now his and he’s yours.

and the fact that you have to hide it from your parents for now.

and here you are currently, “a penny for your thoughts pretty girl?” jake swept a strain of hair behind your ear. you shook your head, lowering your head in his neck to hide your flushed cheeks.

you would always do this whenever you were feeling bashful from jake’s bold behavior and he loved it. that he was the only boy that made you be like this.

“it’s just you’re so beautiful when you look like that..” you whispered against his neck. jake raised both of his eyebrows, surprise at the sudden change in your usual personality. the position you were in, where jake was sitting down and you were standing above him.

his legs being comfortably spread out so each of his leg is next to yours it made you be in a pit of nervousness and jake took note of it. jake always love how expressive you are with your own eyes as if it was telling a story if your mouth goes mute upon seeing his figure wherever, whenever.

seeing him below you caused a spark in your heart as his eyes stared at you with devotion and attentiveness. jake noticed how your eyes changed when you kept staring at him with a specific look. a look that makes him even more whipped for you.

“really?” jake’s hands slowly crept towards your hips, lightly massaging it before he pulled you closer to him, causing you stumble lightly and sit on his lap thanks to jake’s strength in holding you still. your legs straddled his each side of his hip.

you looked down, realizing the situation you were in but jake kept holding his signature smirk as he was loving your reaction. he kept staring at you, swallowing the beauty you are in front of him. he didn’t want to get you go, thinking you are a dedicate feather ready to disappear if let go.

“well uhm,” you scoffed lightly, keeping a wide grin to disguise the apprehension from your face. as you were at a loss of words - not having a quick way to reply to jake, he took it as an opportunity to steal a kiss from your soft lips.

the sound echoed in your head, making your heart flutter listening to it. you closed your eyes again when jake stole another one.

you looked at him, filled with fond and passion. the silence aura, it spoke louder than words of how much you two love it each other.

you lightly placed your hand against jake’s resting on your hip comfortably with a small smile on your lips. you rubbed his fingers lightly.

“i love you.” as fragile as you sounded whispering the truth spilled from your lips, your heart never felt any less warmer with any other guy besides your secret boyfriend in front of you.

jake’s other hand, cradled your jaw. his thumb was slowly rubbing your cheek as his thoughts were filled of the words “i love you” multiple times. he swore he was gonna be a psychopath with you.

he didn’t say, but you felt it.

“i love you too my y/n.” both of your lips collided with a deep kiss after jake exchanged his romantic confession to you.

“y/n!” you immediately pulled out of the kiss, mentally whining that it ended too quick due to your mother calling you.

“yes?” you yelled back back as jake didn’t stop kissing you. he continued showcasing his love for you when his lips touched your neck, having little pecks as he was attached from your perfume scent you sprayed on before jake’s parents arrived to your home.

you were squirming on his lap as his lips kept going places on your neck. the sounds of his lips touching your skin made your head be distracted from your mother’s voice.

you tried stopping jake, pushing your palms against his chest to pull him off but jake insisted, grabbing both of your wrists with his one hand. you felt jake’s smirk onto your neck as you felt the tip of his tongue on your hot skin, making you gasp.

“jake’s parents are going home now! please send jake downstairs.” your mother yelled out. you sighed after you replied with okay to her, ignoring your heart trying to escape from your ribcage.

“jake..” you called him before he gets distracted with his desirable thoughts of wanting to continue in kissing you. you ruffled his hair to awake his senses but he has beat you to it.

“what a shame..” he scrunched his nose. “i’ll go now, i’ll definitely miss you.” jake pressed his lips one last time to your cheek before you removed yourself from him to get his things.

jake grabbed his black, round glasses from your table and the flannel he tossed in your bed the moment he entered to your room.

this time, you were observing your boyfriend picking up his possession, especially with the gray sweatpants and a white plain tank top. simple yet still handsome in every way and form. you can’t believe that jake is yours.

before jake left, his hand wrapped around your door knob indicating his hesitation. “hm?” you hummed in confusion when you turned your head to see jake stand still. you were curious of what was holding him back.

“i’ll be at your window in 10 minutes.” jake looked back. his eyes were gazing your figure in your bed. you looked up at him and his heart still flutters just as he first saw you.

you taken aback with this new gesture of his that you didn’t know what to say. “i-ill see you then.” you let out a smile. jake smiled back before quickly heading downstairs. you heard the mixture of his voice and you the adults downstairs as you fell sideways in your bed, making your head bounce on your pillow.

with his mischievous and brave acts with you, you’re certain that one day both of you will be caught but you never objected the idea of doing so.

taglist ; @iraisswiftie @s00buwu

[neowinestainedress]

between us — johnny suh

title: between us

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

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

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

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

visuals

wc: 16.590k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I… I…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” He asks, brows raising.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wh-why do you care?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hum, biting the inside of your cheek.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Us?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It doesn’t work.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s you.

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

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

It’s only you and them.

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

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

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

Attention.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or so you think.

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

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

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

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

Yet, you can’t let it go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Looking for something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They snicker.

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

“Uhm, no…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, want to have fun with us?”

“Yeah…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Too much,” you cry out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Easily. If that was nothing to her…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But I —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[bizbat]

When They're In Love - Jason Todd - 2

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Fem terms used for reader.

~ Mild smut.

~ You can find part one of these hcs here, and part three here.

~ You can find more of my works here.

~ Thank you to @the-best-of-the-myrmidona for requesting more When They're In Love Headcanons for Jason Todd!

~ SFW ~

He likes to sit with his head between your legs, in any context.

He likes when you massage his scalp with your legs dangling over his broad shoulders.

He loves it when you wear his clothes.

His heart always stops for a moment when he sees you come out of the shower, drying your hair with a towel, dressed in one of his shirts that just barely reaches down to your thighs, and rises as you reach up to take care of your wet hair.

Loves seeing your thighs.

He gives real "victorian man seeing an ankle" energy.

He loves feeling you against him.

He needs to feel your skin or your body pressing against his or he will have a bad day.

I feel like he always smells good, even if he doesn't smell good, yk?

Like even when he comes home smelling like blood, smoke, and gasoline, his natural musk probably still stands out.

Always catches him off guard when you wanna hug him before he showers.

He can't help but laugh when you bury your face into his chest to inhale more of his scent.

He likes it when you play with his hair, but also likes to play in yours.

Straight, wavy, curly, coiled, long, short, shaved.

He don't care.

Lay on his chest and let him play with your hair, now!

I think he can cook, but that he doesn't know a lot of recipes. He reads a lot of cookbooks though, so he always wants to try something new with you.

I think he always wants to impress you, but he wants to be lowkey abt it.

First time you come over his place, he scrubs every single square inch till it sparkles, but he'll throw a shirt over the couch, or leave out a plate, or something, so he can be all "Sorry about the mess, haha".

Like a loser smh.

I think he'd ask Alfred for a recipe that will be impressive, but not too hard or complicated.

I didn't include it in the last set of hcs, but im putting it here.

Jason would absolutely want to rescue a pet with you, I'm thinking either a massive black dog, or an old cat that has no teeth and has outlived three owners.

Something that needs love and hasn't been given it.

But, I also think he'd put it off bc he wants to be able to give it his full attention.

If he found the right ball of fur and teeth though, I think he might be compelled to take it home with him.

He loves to take naps. Especially with you.

I think it's his way of being vulnerable.

He'd let you touch his scars.

I don't think they'd be sensitive physically, but maybe they'd be sore reminders of his lack of a normal life.

That's why it's so special that he lets you of all people touch them.

~ NSFW ~

Loves loves loves kisses.

Let Me explain.

When he's got you on your back, your eyes glazed over and completely unfocused, his favorite thing to do is lean down, squeeze your cheeks until your lips pucker, and give you lots of sloppy kisses.

He doesn't mind all the drool, in fact, it kinda adds to it.

He'll wipe away the tears sliding down your cheeks with his thumb, before popping it into your mouth, letting you suck it off, before slipping his tongue between your lips so he can taste your sweat tears too.

He's so condensing too. :(

Mean, mean man.

Calls you names, likes to smack, spits.

I think he likes to display his strength, probably holds you up as he thrusts into you, no matter your weight.

I keep writing abt him and he's starting to grow on me smh.😒

Okay that's all for now! <3

[punksocks]

Astrology Observations: No.28

*just based on my observations, only take what resonates

(Sorry it’s been a minute, I got my time back then I got sick- like same day! I’m good now, thank god, but it was absolutely insane and everything has been going on in the world, my God)

-If your moon opposes your ascendant you may be known for making the wrong impressions on people (especially first impressions) at some point in your life

-Not the first time I said this but I feel like Libra Asc tend to need to balance out aspects of their life more bc of their houses having the opposite signs over them.

-On the other hand I feel like Aries asc have a very straightforward, sometimes less complicated world view bc of their houses lining up with their traditional rulers.

-Mars in determemt and fall (Libra, cancer, 12th house) really gives you a finite amount of stamina

-I feel like cancer venus/moons tend to wax the most poetically and romantically about the nostalgia they feel. Even stronger for Venus.

-Men with cancer placements be like: I didn’t know I was manipulating you into being nice to me until it was already happening (lmao oof)

-I noticed Aries and Scorpio Sun men/masc folks can get romanticized a lot, I think this is bc their identity is ruled by mars traditionally, so they tend to be assigned more masculine traits/act their traits out in a more “traditionally” (or even just comfortably) masculine way

-Aqua Sun/asc/venus usually have some features that makes their face really stand out I noticed (unique brow/nose/head shape etc) (idk why I haven’t seen this with moons as much)

-Signs in your 8th house may come off as mysterious or hard to understand

-You may find it really easy to vibe with people that have Sun conjunct your Asc

-I’ve noticed that a lot of Virgo mars may eat like really spicy or punishing foods (especially if the mars is in a fire house)

-Saturn aspecting your big 3 can help you age really well- depending on how well you take care of yourself (extreme example: dick van dyke, he’s almost 100 and he’s still jumping around with so much energy)

-Pisces placements can be like incredibly intelligent and yet still come off as a bit spacey (one of my favorite YouTubers used to head extra credits and he is SO SMART, like just a seriously huge capacity for knowledge but he sounds spacey when he does his chill gameplays and pieces things together unscripted lol)

-Jupiter square/opposition Sun can make you come off as overly pessimistic, it can also make you come off as optimistic at the wrong times (laughing at serious moments, etc)

-Taurus placements are so motivated by food, it’s so real (the amount of times I’ve had a Taurus sun/moon/mars not hear a word I was saying bc they were scoping out a restaurant? Countless lol)

-I notice a lot of rappers & musicians (especially the innovative ones) have major Pisces placements

-Aries moons get emotional fulfillment by winning what they chase after (Aries in big 6 tends to make you go after things in general too imo)

-I noticed sometimes Leo moon can make you a bit self centered, like in the most literal sense, you may have trouble understanding perspectives outside of your own

-Virgos and Geminis and 3rd/6th house placements have great memory but they tend to forget certain aspects. They tend to forget or mix up details. (My ex took like 3 years to remember my middle name beyond the first initial lol god; also, I always remember zodiac signs but not birthdays lol)

-I love how Joe Pera has a cancer Mercury and his comedy is like the coziest comedy I’ve ever heard, he even got his following bc his helping people fall asleep and just talking through his chill podcast (did not expect him to have like the most fire in his chart tho?? Wouldn’t have guessed lol)- Pisces Mercury and Mercury with hard aspects to Neptune probably have a cozy affect on others when they communicate with them too

[softspiderling]

illicit affairs - part eight | r.c

summary:

Do not come over here right now, you thought to yourself, pleaded to God even, but of course, JJ walked right over to your table, stopping in front of you to bow theatrically. You could basically see Rafe’s vein throbbing in anger.

“Boss, can I get you anything?”

“I wasn’t aware you’re on her payroll, Maybank,” Rafe snapped, falling into your words before you could even open your mouth, glaring up at JJ.

“Oh didn’t you hear? She’s the one who got me this job,” JJ said gleefully and you groaned internally as Rafe drew his arm back, raising his brows at you.

“You did what?”

OR; The Spring Fling is finally here. And of course, no event on Kildare goes off without a hitch

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: none except for one macho context between Rafe and JJ lol

word count: 2,6k

author's note: hello don't ask what this is and don't yell at me bc i literally just wrote what the little people in my head told me to write (I think it's funny when you say that i'm making you insane, im telling you, im just equally as shook as im writing)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

pt. eight: "and clandestine meetings and longing stares"

“When did you and Rafe start having sex?”

You nearly spat your mimosa all over the table, but opted for choking on it instead, coughing as the liquid went down the wrong pipe. Out of everything, Topper chose to ask you that question during brunch at the Spring Fling party, where you were surrounded by Kook families. But you should’ve known.

Topper’s mother was anything if not punctual and she had turned up not even a minute after 11. Rafe and Kelce were set to come later during the brunch, this was the perfect opportunity to ask something like that and Topper knew it.

Reaching for a napkin, you tried to keep your coughs to a minimum when your mother gave you a dirty look from her table. Consequently, you turned to Topper to give him an equally nasty look.

“Top, what the fuck?”

Topper only sent your mother a charming smile, raising his glass in her direction until she turned away with a headshake.

“Sorry, were the two of you trying to be discreet?” he then asked, glancing in your direction as he took a sip from his champagne. You let out a scoff, downing your mimosa in one go, your cheeks burning. Playing with the stem of the glass nervously, you took your time with an answer, knowing that Topper was sensible enough to not push you.

“How long have you known?”

Topper sighed, pushing his hair back at your evasive question. “Remember when we were hanging out at Rafe’s like three days ago? I left my wallet on the table and came back inside, just to hear the two of you going at it.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. Of course. You had told Rafe to wait after Topper and Kelce left. For ten minutes at least, just to be safe; but then he started kissing your neck and your self-control flew out of the window. Asshole.

Topper eyed you skeptically, and you didn’t say anything, except a thank you to the waiter when he placed a new mimosa in front of you. Topper played with the corner of the tablet cloth, waiting until the waiter left before he spoke again.

“So… You what? Just fuck around?” he asked, frowning. “You’re willing to risk your friendship for sex?”

“We’re not risking our friendship, Top. We’re adults and we can have sex without complicated feelings, and if it ever starts to get weird, we just stop,” you told him, ignoring the fact that you had been questioning your friendship just last week. Topper didn’t need to know that.

He only exhaled, taking another sip of his champagne. The silence between the two of you stretched so long, you started to believe he had dropped the topic.

“Maybe we should hook up too.”

You nearly choked on your mimosa again, but you managed to swallow it this time, before turning to stare at Topper with wide eyes, your forehead creased.

“Ew what?”

Topper raised a brow at you. “What?”

“Why would you even say that? We’ve been friends forever, don’t be gross.”

“So have you and Rafe but you don’t have any problem fucking him.”

You bristled at his choice of words, turning away from him, frowning into the distance, knowing exactly what point he was trying to make. You had always wondered if Topper ever suspected that you had feelings for Rafe, but chose not to ask you about it. Until now.

“What’s your point?” you finally griped.

Topper gave you an exasperated look. “Seriously precious? You know this isn’t gonna end well. And it won’t just affect you and Rafe, it’s gonna affect me als Kelce, too. How the fuck are we supposed to choose sides if you’re our best friends?”

“What do you mean “choose sides”?” you huffed, throwing your hands up. “We’re adults, and we’re friends, best friends. Nothing is ever going to change that.”

“Do you really believe that?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes mostly to deflect. Topper had a point. This had potential to explode in all of your faces, have catastrophic consequences, and why? Because you were selfish? You’d risk your friendship with your best friend to have only a tiny more piece of Rafe, something that you weren’t entitled to? Clenching your jaw, you reached out to pat Topper’s hand gently, trying to find the right words, to take his worries away, but before you could, you saw Rafe arriving with Kelce and his family and you leaned back in your chair, glancing at Topper.

“Drop it,” you muttered under your breath, throwing him a warning glance, terrified that Rafe could overhear something.

The other half of your friend group approached your table, both of the boys kissing your cheek in greeting, before Kelce took a seat next to Topper, while Rafe sat down on the empty chair next to you.

“What did we miss?” Rafe asked, holding up two fingers to the waiter before turning to you, raising a brow.

Topper opened his mouth, no doubt to let out a stupid comment, but you stepped your foot on his, making sure that the heel only grazed the top of his shoe, warning him. Topper’s face contorted into pain, and he glared at you. Luckily, neither Kelce or Rafe noticed your squabble, as the waiter arrived with your drinks, placing four flutes of champagne and mimosas on the table.

“Just how precious over here stumbled over her words when she introduced her parents,” he said, making you roll your eyes. Kelce snickered and Rafe only smirked into his glass as he took a sip. Reaching for a new glass, you picked a glass by the stem, only to realize that Rafe had thrown his arm over your chair when you leaned back. You grew hot, which was stupid considering the fact that Rafe has always been touchy with you even before you two started having sex, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were showing your emotions all over your face. Throwing a glance over to Topper, you thought he’d show his disapproval, but he was engrossed in a discussion with Kelce over his new bike. If he had noticed, he hadn’t shown.

“Told you to practice, didn’t I precious?” Rafe muttered under his breath, the amusement clear in his voice. You only rolled your eyes, crossing your legs as you sipped on your mimosa. Things between you were… Almost normal. After the rather odd intimate moment you had in the shower and then in bed, it felt like Rafe had… Not exactly taken a step back when it came to sex, but you definitely felt like he was trying to show you how he valued your friendship more sex.

For example, when you were trying to come up with some sort of speech for the spring fling

“The way I recall it, I was practicing and you told me to “wing it” because “writing a speech is lame””, you said, quoting him.

Rafe snickered, taking a sip of his champagne. “You did a great job helping your parents pull this shit off,” he told you, his thumb drawing circles into your shoulder. You didn’t reply, swirling the mimosa in your glass around as Rafe glanced around the garden, before he did a double take, his eyes narrowing.

“What the fuck is JJ Maybank doing here?”

Three tables over, JJ was pouring Mr. Jones a glass of Champagne, the heavy bottle nearly slipping out of his fingers before he got a grip on it again. He only gave Mr. Jones a charming smile, you had no doubt he had some quip right on his tongue. You squirmed on your chair, finishing your mimosa in one go (was someone counting how many mimoas you’d had already?), shoving the empty glass on the table.

“Working, obviously,” you answered somewhat evasively. “Can’t you see that he’s wearing an uniform?”

“Obviously I can see that,” Rafe huffed, giving you a look. “I meant, how did he get a job here? I know for a fact that Kennedy hates his guts.”

Right, Kennedy the hostess.

“Why does Kennedy hate his guts again?”

“He said Carter’s name during sex,” Kelce suddenly chimed in, leaning over Topper to engage in the gossip session you were apparently having. You winced. Kennedy and Carter were sisters, you could see why Kennedy couldn’t stand JJ (anymore).

“To be fair, they’re twins, so I can understand how JJ mixed them up.”

“Why are you defending him?”

“I’m not!” you exclaimed. “I’m just saying, it’s an easy mistake to make.”

Rafe huffed, rolling his eyes with a headshake, clearly annoyed. You didn’t understand how he was so easily aggravated by pogues, especially JJ. Topper only gave you a look when you glanced over at him, while Kelce was too busy ogling JJ.

JJ, who had seemed to spot your group, judging by the way a smirk was growing on his lips. He leaned down to finish topping off the guests glasses, before departing from the table.

Do not come over here right now, you thought to yourself, pleaded to God even, but of course, JJ walked right over to your table, stopping in front of you to bow theatrically. You could basically see Rafe’s vein throbbing in anger.

“Boss, can I get you anything?”

“I wasn’t aware you’re on her payroll, Maybank,” Rafe snapped, falling into your words before you could even open your mouth, glaring up at JJ.

“Oh didn’t you hear? She’s the one who got me this job,” JJ said gleefully and you groaned internally as Rafe drew his arm back, raising his brows at you.

“You did what?” he asked incredulously. You rolled your eyes at his tone. He made it sound like you just betrayed his trust.

“He needed a job, what’s the harm in helping him out?”

“He’s a pogue,” Rafe all but spit out. “When the fuck did you even talk to him?”

“Last week after you guys left, he kind of broke into my house.”

“Accidentally!” “Wait what?” “He did what?”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Can we not make a big deal out of this?”

Rafe scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, JJ only smirked in satisfaction, Kelce was staring at you with an open mouth and Topper looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Well, if you gentlemen don’t need anything else,” JJ said, looking at you. “Another drink, princess?”

“Don’t call her that.”

Just as you thought you’d avoided a full blown fight, Rafe was glaring daggers at JJ again, who just seemed to enjoy getting a rise out of your best friend and using you to do it.

“I think she can tell me herself if she doesn’t want me to call her princess.”

Rafe got up so fast, you could barely react before he was all up in JJ’s space, a frown on his face.

“Who do you think you are, parading around our side of the island?” Rafe hissed into JJ’s face, but the blonde barely blinked at him, his smirk never leaving his face. Meanwhile, you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole, pressing yourself into your chair, hoping to disappear. You were just as angry as you were embarrassed, knowing how Rafe was causing a scene, making the other guests starting to look over; especially your mother, who was glaring at you as if you had instigated this.

“Guys,” Topper finally hissed. “This is not the right place for a pissing contest.”

Rafe took a step back, as if out of a trance. He flexed his hand, throwing JJ a dirty look. “Get lost, Maybank.”

Lucky for you, he did, but not without winking at you before he left. Rafe dropped back into his chair, and for a short second, you thought the whole party was ruined, but everyone quickly started chatting again, the incident forgotten.

“The nerve of that guy,” Rafe grunted, as if his behavior just now was insanely stupid. You only scoffed, shaking your head at him, and he glanced over at you, raising a brow.

“What?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered under your breath, snatching your purse off the table, standing up quickly. Without excusing yourself, you left your friends at the table, heading straight to the bathroom to cool off. You exhaled slowly as you washed your hands, letting the cold water run over your wrists, not caring that you were getting your jewelry wet. When you finally deemed it enough. you turned the water off, drying your hands with paper towels. But you weren’t ready to go back out just yet, so you rummaged through your purse, trying to find your lipgloss to reapply. Just as you were about to put the small applicator on your lips, the door opened, and Rafe slid inside with a frown.

“Get out,” you said, even before the door shut properly.

“You can’t seriously be mad at me,” Rafe guffawed, his jaw slack. “That little shit was walking around like he owned the country club.”

You rolled your eyes at him so hard, you nearly gave yourself a migraine.

“So what? What does it matter to you, Rafe? Why can’t you just ignore him?”

“Why are you acting like this is my fault?! He started it!”

“You’re my best friend! You embarrassed me!”

“Embarr-” Rafe scoffed, breaking off with a headshake. “Did you hear how he was talking to you? He called you princess! He made you give him a job.”

“He made me?” you repeated, laughing dryly, finally lowering the lipgloss to look at him, your eyes sparkling with fury. “Do you realize who you’re talking to right now, Rafe? No one is making me do anything, least of all JJ. I’m not some damsel who needs saving, don’t use me to win whatever cock measuring contest you have going on with JJ.”

Rafe froze, and you let your words sink in, dropping your lipgloss back into your purse and zipping it back up. He finally sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his lips pursed. You looked at him, unimpressed. “I don’t know why, but JJ just gets under my skin. And it just made it worse when he treated you like that.”

“Like what?” you said, blinking at him. “Like he treats every other girl on the island?”

Rafe scoffed, leaning against the wall behind him. “You’re not like every other girl on the island, precious.”

“Rafe, I can take care of myself.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

You let out a sigh, the remaining anger melting away and you stepped to him, stopping just in front of him.

“How about I tell JJ where to shove it, and you sit back and shut up?”

Rafe quirked a smile at you, rolling his eyes a little. “I can try.”

You gave him a look and he let out a loud, dramatic sigh.

“Fine, I won’t say anything, I’m leaving it to you.”

“Better,” you said with a nod, making a shooing motion with your hand. “Now get out before people are starting to think we’re hooking up in here.”

“Now that you brought it up-”

“Rafe, get out.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: not me being proud of Kennedy/Carter (guess what their parents (me) named them after)

[tojjist]

♯♯ birthday special - t. fushiguro

a/n: i didn't do anything for the holiday season bc i barely had time :( but i still wanted to do summ for his birthday soo.

warnings: like one cuss. completely fulff. not proof read! sunshine x grumpy

toji fushiguro hates you. toji fushiguro despises you for all you are; kind, loving, sweet, and damn perfect.

it’s almost insulting to him, really. the way you mock him with your soft little smile, patronizing him with your kindness.

he hated how complicated you are. he could never understand your motives. why would you treat him like that? knowing where he came from and what his past looked like. why do you stick around when he offers next to nothing? he couldn���t find any proof of an ulterior motive yet he couldn’t accept the simple reality of you actually wanting to be around him.

but toji hated one thing above all; how you make him feel. he doesn’t get the way his chest clouds and breath tightens whenever your skin comes in contact with his. his tongue goes paralyzed when you smile his way, eyes unmoving from your face when you scoff a small chuckle at whatever dumb shit he said. he can’t even remember what made you laugh but he gets this overwhelming urge to do it again.

he grows vulnerable, craving your touch when you’re not around. he’s soon hyper aware of his attachment to you. but toji is a smart man, and he knows he can’t do anything about the situation he found himself entangled in.

when he’s away, a single hour could feel like a whole eternity. and he can’t wait to be back home. home where you’re waiting. home where he belongs.

it doesn’t take long for him to grow accustomed to the physical proximity of you. the feel of you becomes a soothing balm, gently brushing away all his worries even if only temporarily.

toji fushiguro hates you. he hates how his heart skips a beat whenever his nose picks up on your sweet scent. he hates how the sound of your voice downright puts his entire world on pause, stopping to hear every little word that leaves your lips. from mumbles when you’re half-asleep to your little rants about your day or the new show you’ve been watching.

toji fushiguro hates how he’s capable of so little. he can’t give you the world. he can’t give you the dream life. he can’t give you a luxurious house. he can’t give you fancy dates or decent holiday getaways. heck, sometimes he can’t give you even time.

that’s why he makes sure to spend every minute he could with you, basking in the haven you created for him.

he tells himself he’s doing it all for himself. he says he needs a rest and just keeps you around because it’s easier than ‘looking for another girl’. toji tries to convince himself that it’s temporary, that you’re just willing to stick around and that he’d leave sooner than later. he says he’s selfish and doing it all for himself.

but it’s clear as day when his arms cling to you first thing in the morning, searching for your warmth despite the duvet he had pushed away. it’s obvious in the way he caresses your hair while you pretend to be asleep. occasionally he’d let his lips find the crown of your head, greeting your hair with soft kisses.

toji fushiguro hates you. he hates when you told him that you loved him, in his car on some tuesday night when he took you out for a ride late at night even though he needed to sleep.

toji fushiguro hates how your face lit up when he brought some flowers home with him,mumbling something along the lines of “the vase been empty for too fucking long”. but there was no vase. and he only realized when he got up at night to get some water, spotting the pretty flowers set in a plastic water jug.

toji fushiguro hates his new life. he hates how different he’s become. the hostile menace has become a quiet man, following behind you everywhere you go as if he were your personal gorilla. toji fushiguro hates how much life mattered now. toji fushiguro hates the responsibility he feels.

he says it’s restricting, suffocating even. he clicks his tongue in annoyance when he sees the time. it’s past dinner time and he needs to be home to not keep you waiting. he’s frustrated at himself when he finds you plopped on the couch, face peaceful while you presumably have fallen asleep as you awaited his return. he feels guilt gnawing at him when he sees the food you’ve made, having not eaten so he wouldn’t have dinner alone.

you’re too much for him. and while he’d felt like he owes you at some point, sick of your little favors and stupid sweet words, toji soon realizes this life is his. it was by choice that he let you into his life, slowly rearranging the blocks of his reality. you broke and rebuild, fixing a man who believed he was long beyond repair.

toji fushiguro hates you. toji fushiguro despises you for all you are, kind, loving, sweet, and painfully his.

somewhere along the way toji has accepted all that he feels. falling in love isn’t shameful. he’s become a fool but he thinks it’s worth it long as you’ve the one who’s molded him into this shape.

[leviscolwill]

something to give each other

pairing: situationship!jude x reader

summary: jude and you are nothing complicated, until one night when you need him more than anything [wc:~800]

contents: angst & fluff at the same time bc why not + maybe a tiny bit suggestive ? idek if this classify as suggestive tbh

note: ikkk it's very short and that's a shit summary just read pls 😓 if u liked it, lmk by reblogging !!

now playing something to give each other by troye sivan...

you don't know what brought you two together. maybe it was the magnetic energy that he had to him, or maybe it was the way your personalities completed each other perfectly. either way, you found yourself wishing your paths never crossed a bit too often.

you and jude weren't anything serious, it was ‘less complicated’ this way according to him. you hung out with your shared friends and when everyone else was heading home, you would share a uber to his house or yours. it was simple really, you both got what you wanted by the end of the night.

and tonight, you needed him to take your mind off this awful day. you couldn't wait for him to make you forget about those stupid exams and these stupid arguments with your friends.

you didn't take the time to greet him like you usually did before kissing jude's lips, maybe bolder than he expected. his fingers gripped your jaw and forced you to slow down and separate from him.

“what's with you tonight?”, you could only roll your eyes at his comment, small talk being the last thing on your mind tonight. thankfully, your fingers raking the skin under his shirt was enough to shut him up. “i just need you, please jude.”

his eyes closed, it was hard to resist your pleas but your voice had a tone that was different than usual and he didn't want you to do something you might regret later, “no, you need to tell me what's going on, we're not doing anything if you don't.”

“fuck off, you never ask me about anything and suddenly you're interested in what's going on?” you couldn't understand the sudden switch in his behavior, it had always been just sex, why complicate it now? “i just need you to kiss me, take off my clothes, and make me feel good, is this too much to ask for?” you could feel your eyes well up in tears the more you spoke, already frustrated by your day, and not wanting to argue with him.

“it's fine if you don't want to have sex, i'll just text someone else.”, of course you didn't mean a word that came out of your mouth, if anything you would leave and cry yourself to sleep in your bed. jude's thumbs wiped tears that you didn't notice were falling before cupping your face in his hands. his eyes looked into yours in a way you weren't used to, your eyes fell on the floor from the intensity of his gaze, but two of his fingers were already tilting your face up, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

the silence between the two of you was becoming embarrassing, “i'm sorry about… all of this, i'll just go. sorry.” you couldn't even turn your back to him before his hand found your wrist, “you're not going anywhere. stay the night, please.”

you couldn't hide the frown on your face, confused by his words, “but you said you wouldn't…” the boy in front of you dramatically pretended to get offended, “this information might surprise you, but my life doesn't revolve around sex.” the giggles that escaped your mouth brought back a smile on both your lips.

jude's hand brought you to his room, although you knew the way all too well already, the warmth of his hand in yours brought you a sense of comfort that you didn't know you longed for. he handed you a shirt that was probably twice your size but would be perfect to sleep in. you embarrassingly looked around you before asking him to turn around, he complied but laughed his back now facing you.

“i've seen you naked so many times already, you shouldn't care about this love” heat was creeping up your face thinking about what he was hinting at, “s’ just different that's all…” your voice was barely audible, and you couldn't even tell if jude heard your words. you got under his sheets and told him he could turn around, his bed now significantly warmer with him next to you.

even with his eyes shut, jude could tell you were tense laying next to him ramrod straight. you felt his arm around you pull you closer, your face now nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

you felt him shift a bit, and kiss the crown of your hair. the action made you heart skip a beat or two and relax more. you hoped you did a good job at pretending to be asleep because you didn't want to deal with the consequences of his ambiguous gestures in the morning. his fingers slowly stroking your hair were lulling you to sleep for real this time.

jude stopped once he heard your light snores and pressed on one more kiss on top of your head. he didn't let himself fall into the arms of morpheus though, already thinking about how he would fix whatever he started tonight.

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

< kiss it better. >

...

(i had an urge, or rather the need to draw them kissing. the sheer fact, that i didn’t ever draw anyone kissing before wasn’t enough to stop me. in the same way, jonathan’s lack of experience with kissing wouldn’t have stopped him from trying to lock lips with the bat. 

in this timeline, jonathan clearly already knows how to kiss bruce. must have done it enough times to get comfy with being affectionate in less … pushy ways. he also pretty familiar with small signs, that the bat doesn’t do all that well. some esp messed up / complicated cases would keep bruce sustained on little sleep an’ barely any time out of his suit. he shaves less frequently bc of it too. which is like the first sign, that he doesn’t pay a lot of attention to his daily habits. besides alfred, jonathan is the only other person, who notices those things an’ scolds the bat for it. which is ironic bc crane himself tends to huddle up inside some basement without a shower, much sleep or proper food for days, when he’s working on whatever. in a way, he’s even worse than bruce in that sense. but he doesn’t consider it a problem, when it’s him. but when it’s batman, now, that’s troublesome. an’ unlike bruce, who can literally haul him out an’ shove him into a bath *always have a vivid imagery of arkhamverse scarebat being in this situation* or put food in front of him an’ stand over jon till he eats it. jonathan has to be more ‘sly’ about his own methods. he prefers to egg the bat on, an’ kinda point out things until bruce might want to go an’ do smth just to prove him wrong lol. but he also attempts to coze the bat up with affection too. he’s not super graceful about it. but it’s the try that counts. an' he's hella smug about it, when he's successful, which is like almost always. really makes jon feel good about his knowledge of batman's inner workings.

meanwhile, i think, that bruce is often low-key surprised, when crane goes out of his way to be openly gentle, nearly consolatory with him. rather, then doing backwards things or weird gestures, that showing said gentle fondness. bruce in general is kinda reversed, when it comes to affection, even if he's better at giving it vs crane. but that's prob why the change manages to catch him off guard. his influence on jonathan's show itself in odd ways. i feel like jon is absolutely clueless about those things in the beginning. when he does them, he then acts very pissy an' embarrassed. but overtime, it gets less intense. he’s even let’s bruce lift his mask up his nose, after some time too. until that he acts all cagey about it. still very much self-conscious about his face. he can do it himself from time to time, but bruce is pretty much the only other person, he allows to do it at all. the complexity of their brain process, when it comes to their mask is smth else. they still cannot be normal about being just one single dude in the mask or without it lol.

anyways, jon can still be well, jon. he's weird an' love watching bruce's reactions on different things, bc he's still a scientist. and' professor of psychology. an' the scarecrow. therefore some kisses start with a small lick or a peck. another thing for bruce to ponder on. an' think how to respond in kind.

so yeps. just them kissing. it's one of those things that i wanna see an' think about [dreamily kicks legs] the end goal to make BTAS an' akrhamverse scarebat share a kiss as well.)

[solargeist]

The Watchers in my AU are meant to be complicated and confusing. It’s part of why Grian stays for so long, why he’s so conflicted and why it bothers him to the point of venting to Mumbo.

They can be very kind, they do love him, they compliment him on everything. He gets gifts and everything given to him.

But on the other hand, bc they love him, they can be critical, telling him why that and why this, not that not this, they have pretty high standards for Beings that have seen everything already, not easy to genuinely impress.

They give him food, as parental figures should, anything he asks, but that’s sorta the problem, he always has to ask, there’s no way around this, no independence. He can ask for ingredients to cook by himself, but they’ll watch him.

He’s given clothes to wear, always within Watcher standard, dark and loose garments, open for his wings. He’d honestly prefer brighter colours, but that’s not rly a choice.

They tell him he’s special, he was chosen, better than the rest, a champion, a hero, and while it pets his ego, he feels pressure, they went out on a limp for him and he still can’t do enough. There is so much guilt.

Being here in the end messes with his psyche a bit, he’s much shorter than everyone, he has to rely on everyone, they all treat him like a kid, petting his hair or moving him via his shoulders instead of asking. He accidentally leans into this sometimes as a subconscious coping mechanism, he cries easier than he thinks he should. Tantrums where he has to press his face into his hands, or grumble and stomp off. He always has to apologize.

Despite being treated like a child, he is a Watcher child, so he studies a lot, he trains a lot. If he throws up from training, that’s no excuse (well by Flora’s standards)

He does feel a sort of comfort or safety around Aether, She’s lenient with him, but they’re definitely still not equals. She still hides things from him She thinks is too serious, She’s still overtly positive. He thinks abt Her sometimes, in hindsight he knows it was a family dynamic, and he feels guilt abt this too.

The Watchers love him, but they are ultimately overbearing, overwhelming, and frankly quite scary if you don’t play by their rules. Grian has reason to be cautious, the silent threats that hang over his head, never directly said to him, but traitors are cast out, if you’re not worthy you don’t deserve these gifts of wings or eyes. I think he’s convinced if they ever find him they’ll rip his eyes out with talons.

He won’t admit that he likes the attention sometimes, when his efforts are acknowledged and/or praised, when his hair is brushed. He wants their approval.

However, this is the only ‘human’ contact he gets. He doesn’t have anyone else, so it’s taken with a grain of salt how genuine his feelings are abt the attention.

[ireneaesthetic]

“Do you think wilmon relationship is toxic?”

Not at all.

It's definitely a complicated dynamic, but none of it made me ever define wilmon relationship as toxic.

There are two specific moments that come to my mind to prove my point: 1) simon standing up for himself - i don’t want to be anyone’s secret - and yet not forcing wilhelm to come out, but giving him all the time and space he needed; 2) wille felt ready to let simon go and allow him to love someone else, despite it being the last thing he wanted to do and his current heartbreak, bc he thought it was for the best, for both of them to stop hurting.

People seem to forget about it but - they're so young. not facing life in the most mature and rational way is more than okay. they proved so many times to have such respect for each other’s boundaries tho. they're still learning a lot from each other, they’ve grown along with everything they’ve been through and always found their way back together eventually.

They’re still learning to communicate too and it’s the reason why they fight more than once, ending up speaking their truth and feelings in a not-so-comfortable way. there are no conflicts just for the sake of angst bc they're always constructive, also leading them both to make choices for themselves, and i personally love it.

It's the stressors and circumstances affecting them that have to be called toxic. can't wait for the wilmon endgame in s3 but i've already seen enough to say that they're meant to be - i really mean it.

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

"my favorite set of stairs is the one up to Your Room"

"let's tangle our legs again, the world doesn't need us to leave our heads. let's tie our breath in knots again, nothing's complicated if we pretend."

synopsis// a normal morning for you and megumi.

pairing// megumi fushiguro x gn!reader

word count// 812

contents// just pure fluff ! also not explicitly specified but you both are adults :)

requested// by an anon!

notes// i don't usually post oneshots mid smau buttt im making an exception bc this is rlly short and fluffy ! anywho this was also inspired by 11:11 by waterparks!! i was gonna use deep red by movements as inspiration but i think 11:11 fit more sigh... dw movements... you'll get ur time to shine eventually...

You blink the sleep away as you take in your surroundings, realizing you're on Megumi’s chest with your hand draped over his waist and your legs tangled together. You yawn, softly rubbing your face against his chest as if trying to get any bit closer to him, and when his heartbeat drumming in your ear starts to sound like a lullaby, you know it's time to get up. So you do.

Kinda.

Your version of getting up right now consists of lazily lifting your head up to stare at Megumi, who’s still fast asleep. His eyelashes brush up against his flushed cheeks—you can't help but reach your hand up to caress his face, and who can blame you? When he’s asleep like this, looking so at peace, it’s almost as if he's begging you to hold his face in your hands, and when you do, it’s like you have the whole world sitting right there in your palm. and as if he can feel you touching him even in his sleep, he smiles, and you find yourself falling in love with him all over again.

The scene before you is just serene, and yeah, maybe you wake up to this every morning, but it never grows old. In fact, it just gets better with time, and you’re over the moon to have all the time in the world with Megumi. ...Except for right now, because you really should be getting up and getting ready for work. You drop your head against his chest and take a deep breath, silently wishing time would just pause so you could stay here, but alas, it does not.

You lift your head again and litter a series of small kisses against his jaw, soft enough that they shouldn’t have woken him, yet he stirs awake, as if you’ve effectively pavlov’d the poor boy to associate that small, soft feeling with you leaving. Megumi wraps his arms around you tightly, holding you in place. You honestly have no idea how he has this much strength when he’s literally half asleep, but you embrace it—his hold on you is as calming as a weighted blanket.

He tucks your head beneath his chin and slurs, “Don’t go.”

You hum and tuck your head further into his neck, placing chaste kisses against him, reveling in how he shivers. "I have to.”

"No, you don't.” 

You laugh softly as you pick your head back up to look at him, his eyes half-lidded, looking like he could fall back asleep any second now.

“You’re staring,” he murmurs sheepishly, collapsing under the weight of your gaze.

"Don't I always?”

He lazily lifts his head to kiss you, but his coordination is horrible due to the fact that his brain isn't even entirely awake right now, so his kiss lands more on the side of your mouth than fully on it. He groans at his failed attempt.

“Kiss me.”

"Yes, your majesty,” you tease.

You ignore Megumi's sleepy glare, instead leaning down and softly pressing your lips against his. You do this a few times, feeling Megumi smile into the kiss, yet it’s all onesided, and you pull away with a huff.

“Why am I gonna kiss you if you’re too lazy to kiss back?”

“Because you love me?”

"Sure, whatever,” you mumble, pressing your hands against his chest to push yourself off of him, but he doesn't give you that chance, instead grabbing you by your wrists to prevent you from getting up any further. "Megumi, I need to go to work.”

He doesn't say anything; instead, he opens his eyes—still lidded, but now he doesn’t look sleepy; now he just looks like he's giving you puppy eyes… Because he is, and he’s evil because he knows your conviction crumbles right then and there at the sight of them.

"Don't look at me like that,” you say, turning your head away from him.

Megumi doesn’t accept that and releases one of your wrists to grab your jaw, forcing you to face him. “Like what?”

“You know what.” 

He shrugs, feigning innocence. “Stay? Please?”

You sigh and drop your forehead against his, mumbling, "Megumi, I have to go to work.”

You hear him tut before pushing you off of him and rolling onto his side, his back facing you, as he bitterly mumbles, “Whatever.”

You roll your eyes, yet a fond smile adorns your face. “You’re such a big baby.”

“Go to work; leave me alone.”

"Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

You quickly hop off the bed and get ready for work, not leaving without littering a few more kisses on Megumi’s face, who’s already sound asleep once more. You’d be more sad about leaving him if you didn’t already know that tomorrow morning would play out exactly like this again and the next. And the morning after that. And after that—and probably forever after that.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Ooo cool tunes

Barbie dolls:prongsfoot x reader (Sirius, James, you)

Words: 2.4k ish

Summary: your friends Peter and Lily give you a free ticket to one of their concerts and you realize the vocalist and lead guitarist are fine as FUCK and then you get a little y/n treatment and uh oh what happens now Sirius finds you outside after the performance woah

Warnings: you're in a pottery class with Peter and Lily, extreme y/n moments I'm not joking, you like egg rolls and pot stickers along with sluts, a lot of slut talk shockingly, Sirius is fairly fem presenting but to me he's genderfluid so does it really matter?, Peter is your friend and he gets love, a concert written by a person who only ever went to a concert once when they were five so, Sirius wears nippie pasties, you are described as wearing clothes nothing in particular just an outfit, James in bell-bottoms, kinda oblivious r but not like to the point it's edging on pedophilic more like you're just really sleepy and not paying 100% attention, kinda modern bc posting pictures is mentioned yk like Instagram posting, that's all

You met Peter and Lily in your pottery class. You always sat at the same table, it was a crowded class. Lily talked to you first, complimenting your pieces. You thanked her with a bright smile. After that Peter and Lily became your friends. You enjoyed your class a lot more with them. They told you about their drama and their friends. You thought they were funny. Then during one class they dropped the bombshell that they were in a band. You weren't really shocked just more impressed. So they invited you to one of their performances with a free ticket, right up against the stage.

You planned your outfit in advance and you were excited to see Lily and Peter. You were also excited to see them perform. You were so curious as to what their music sounded like. They were very creative in pottery so you wondered how their skills could transfer to sound. You were already in your position standing next to the barrier in front of the stage.

It was crowded, more than you expected. You didn't think your friends would be bad but you didn't expect them to be quite this popular and you wouldn't know about them. Peter was the first on stage, much to crowds enjoyment. They cheered the second they saw him. He looked cool in your opinion. He had perfect winged eyeliner, reaching out past his eyebrows. He had worn jeans with big holes down the legs. He took his position behind the drum set and quickly scanned the crowd. Peter caught his eyes on you and waved. The people around you squealed and gave him a wave back.

After that Lily and a man in a button up and sweater vest joined Peter on stage. You took notice of the sweater and assumed he was Remus. Lily and Peter were quite descriptive of their friends. You smiled at Lily's outfit. She was always so pretty. She had blue tights with spirals on them, a black circle skirt, and a green crochet top you were certain she made herself. Her hair was up in some complicated braids. She immediately spotted you as she pulled her bass strap over her head. Lily blew a kiss at you. The crowd screamed again and you were starting to wish you had ear plugs. Remus talked to Lily as he pulled his guitar strap over his head. Lily laughed and rolled her eyes.

Finally the vocalist and rhythm guitarist joined them, the people around you quickly cheering.

You realized why Lily and Peter might've been slightly apprehensive to introduce you to their friends.

They were hot. You figured out who they were fairly quickly. There was only two other names Peter and Lily regularly mentioned, James and Sirius. Sirius was in fishnets and leather shorts. He had on black nippie pasties and a black vest that was unbuttoned. His hair was pulled back with a red ribbon, small braids framing his face. He was wearing bright blue eyeshadow, that matched Lily's tights, and very smudged eyeliner.

Then James had the audacity to be hot too. He was wearing bellbottomed jeans and a T-shirt that hugged his biceps. He had a hairband pushing his hair back away from his face. He had his glasses pushed up his nose. You felt yourself smile at how pretty he looked laughing at Sirius' joke. You wanted to scream.

James pulled his guitar up, you appreciated the stickers all over it. Sirius walked up to the microphone standing in the middle, greeting the crowd. As they performed you felt yourself like each of them more. Two a tad more than the others. You liked watching them all move around the stage, interacting with each other, and giving their passion their all. Sirius' voice was tantalizingly seductive. He moved across the stage with grace. He gave the crowd flirting looks, that they quite enjoyed. Sirius often moved over into James' space, leaning against him. Occasionally you'd find him crawling on the floor on all fours, arching his back and winking at the crowd. James would always walk in front of him and block the view of Sirius, drawing the attention back to him. You liked watching James' hands move. You liked his hands. You like his focused face, biting the inside of his cheek.

Soon enough the band was breaking a sweat. They took a breather as Sirius yammered on into the mic. Lily had moved behind Peter to put his hair up in two tiny little pigtails. Peter laughed, a loud one that you could hear all the way from the crowd. Remus had gotten too hot throwing his sweater vest into the stage wing and unbuttoning his first couple buttons. Lily's hair was falling out in places, but it was still pretty somehow. Sirius had clicked his microphone back into the stand to fix his ribbon. James adjusted his headband as he chugged a bottle of water. Lily made her way to the edge of the stage leaning over to shout towards you. The barrier wasn't that far away from the edge. The stars could easily reach the crowd but the fans were excited and cheered. She asked if you wanted a water. You shook your head. Lily distracted the fans around you by high-fiving them and speaking to them. You looked back to the rest of the band. You saw Sirius and James standing next to each other talking. James glanced over at you, making awkward eye contact. You quickly looked away.

Sirius started speaking into the mic again, introducing the next song as the last. Lily stood straight, taking her place again. Sirius started to sing again, the lyrics were quite flirtatious. You felt flushed even though the words weren't directed towards you. As Sirius approached the chorus he walked along the edge of the stage reaching into the crowd so the audience grazed his hand. He stopped in front of you and made eye contact with you. Sirius leaned down, gently holding onto your chin. You could see now that he was also wearing a shiny lipgloss. A lipgloss you greatly wanted to kiss off. Your mouth parted as he stared at you with his eyes as he repeated the coquettish words, dragging out his vowels. The fans around you were lightly touching his arm but all his attention was on you. As the chorus ended he straightened up, moving back towards the band.

Their set ended soon after that, the crowd filtering out. Lily told you to wait by the door to the backstage, outside in the lobby. You busied yourself reading a pamphlet for tourist attractions you found on a nearby wall. The door squeaked when it opened, you ignored it vaguely interested in the nearby museums.

"Oh hey." You heard someone say. You had seen a lot of people meet up in the lobby, screaming and jumping into each other's arms. You thought it was adorable. You were just waiting on Lily or Peter to come out and give you a similar hug. "Hello?" You glanced up when the same voice was closer. The vocalist was standing in front of you now. He was wearing a large band shirt now and his lipgloss looked smeared. Sirius was still decked in his leather shorts and fishnets but now he was wearing knee high socks and sneakers as opposed to the boots from before. You stared at him blankly.

"You were in the crowd, right?" Sirius asked, a small smile spreading across his lips. You quickly nodded.

"Oh yeah I was, I'm actually friends with Lily. In case you were wondering why she was talking to me earlier." You explained. You thought it might be a bit strange to see someone standing outside the backstage door. You felt a little stalkerish just being there in general.

"From uh pottery?" You nodded, much to his delight. "Yeah Peter and her told us a lot about you actually. I just didn't expect you'd be so-" he fell into silence. You jerked your head to the side, urging him to finish his sentence.

"So what?"

"Well hot if I'm being crass." You laughed at him. Now he was considering himself crass? Like he wasn't arching his back on stage and flirting with a massive crowd all with his ass peaking out his shorts? He smiled at you laugh but gave you a confused look.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh. But it's silly to me that you think calling me hot is crass, but crawling on all fours and arching your back in front of hundreds isn't." Sirius chuckled at you, holding his hands up in defense.

"Oh so now youre slut shaming me? Wow okay." You shook your head with a bright smile.

"Oh no I'm not slut shaming, I love sluts. In more ways than one. I'm just pointing out the irony of it all." He let out a small laugh. Sirius shoved his hands into his pockets. You noticed now his hair was down the red ribbon gone. It fell down his shoulder as he laughed.

"You love sluts do you?" You looked away from Sirius as the door opened again. This time James came out, a long coat pulled around him. His headband was gone and he had a leather jacket thrown over his arm. He smiled at Sirius.

"Hey babe, you forgot your jacket. You're going to freeze to death out there." James greeted Sirius with a small peck to his lips. You pressed the back of your head against the wall behind you. You had a feeling they were together, Sirius leaned against him too often for them not to. James threw the leather jacket over Sirius' shoulders. Sirius turned back to you with a bright smile. He elbowed James and introduced you both. James nodded excitedly complimenting your clothes. You complimented his pants in return. He happily turned around to showcase the 'man slut' embroidered onto the pockets with swirly letters. Sirius slapped his ass making James turn around with a scowl.

"You love sluts right?" Sirius asked. You rolled your eyes. Sirius patted James' chest with the back of his hand. He muttered something into James' ear. James started furiously searching his pockets as Sirius started talking to you again.

"So actually me and him were talking about this before but um-" James smacked a black sharpie into Sirius' hand. "We actually both thought you were really cool looking. We know this might be a little confusing for you so I was wondering if we could give you our numbers and we could catch a movie or dinner together?" Sirius uncapped the marker and stared at you for your answer. You stared at him with a clueless smile. He raised an eyebrow as your silence dragged on. You startled yourself awake, standing up straight again.

"Sorry what's up? I'm really tired, dude. I can't hear out of my left ear right now and I think my ribcage is vibrating. And I could kill for like some really fucking good egg rolls and pot stickers like fuck man. Could you repeat that?" You kept your eyes wide open as you stared at Sirius to keep yourself from falling asleep with your eyes open and standing, again. Sirius snorted and glanced at James.

"We're poly." Sirius explained. You smiled between them nodding.

"Okay cool. I mean I don't really know why you're coming out to me, but you know I support you guys." Sirius shook his head at you.

"No like we're poly and we like you. We think you're attractive." James explained further. You oh-ed, tilting your head back.

"Well now why were you all cryptic before? You could've just said that." You looked to Sirius. He rolled his eyes.

"Anyways, we wanted to give you our numbers so we could set up a date with you." Sirius added holding up the sharpie. You nodded.

"Oh of course." You pulled up your sleeve and stuck out your arm. Sirius quickly bent over your arm and started writing away. You made light conversation with James as he did. You told him all about your plans with Lily and Peter after this. Sirius stood up again and handed the marker to James. James started writing away again. He pulled away and you looked down. Their numbers were written small though not illegible and towards your wrist. Then towards your inner elbow was both their signatures.

"You could crop out our numbers and post a picture of our signatures, just in case." Sirius said, puffing his chest out slightly. James handed you the closed sharpie, smiling at you brightly. You nodded at Sirius. The door opened again, the last three band members making their way out. Remus was a much larger sweater and had a messenger bag across his body. Lily had a red coat tied around her and Peter's eyes still had a dark shadow around them like he tried to rub off his eyeliner and gave up. Remus said goodbye to them all and left quickly, pulling headphones over his ears. Lily grimaced at the sight of James and Sirius standing next to you.

"Oh what did you subject this poor soul to?" Lily groaned, latching onto your wrist and pulling you towards her.

"Flirtation." Sirius said proudly. Lily shook her head giving you a tight hug.

"I'll never leave you alone again I promise. I know that must've been scary for you." Lily said cupping your face. You nodded exaggeratedly. She cooed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Sirius scoffed. You held your hand out to James. He looked down at it.

"Oop that is mine." James plucked the sharpie out of your hand and shoved it into his pocket. Lily interlocked her elbow with yours. Peter did the same on your other side, leading you two towards the door.

"How do you guys feel about egg rolls?" Peter asked, looking at you and Lily. You looked up at the sky.

"Yes, god please!" Lily chuckled and patted your arm. You three left together as James and Sirius left after you. You separated and they disappeared off towards the other side of the parking lot, hand in hand. You doubted it would be the last you saw of them though. You were excited to message them later.

[reason-with-the-underdog]

alhaitham seems simple but has a lot going on deeper (aka alhaitham loves media literacy)

ok all the alhaitham discourse makes me think about how there's a mismatch between alhaitham's perception and his actual self

that difference leads to:

- his moe gap

- the way that he's seen as mean/uncaring

- ppl thinking he doesnt have a personality or temper

- his humor & wit going unnoticed

i feel like i go back and forth on how complicated alhaitham is, but it all comes down to the way that he's an unreliable narrator

(he obfuscates the truth by not including details or by distracting with non-answers, so there's just a lot we don't know for certain)

like when his "something to share" voiceline is "oh i like to go to the bar after work to relax"

and he teases traveller like "if u want to know what i think, u can just read what's on the message boards lol"

when we all know he's just playing devil's advocate with kaveh on those message boards like BRUH this is on purpose

i keep harping on how his "food i dislike" voiceline gives a weird reason for why he dislikes soup because it really shows how you cannot take him seriously at all! despite his serious demeanor and tone!

taking him at 100% face value is just asking to be made a fool of bc he was being sarcastic rip lol

but that makes him a much harder character to understand! bc you have to question everything he says about himself.

like the "feeble scholar" line was literally just a joke and he's like "lol if ya wanna waste ur time getting hung up on it go ahead"

he isn't actually serious!!

and interestingly, he also doesn't care if he's understood by other people

so he won't really bother correcting incorrect assumptions about him

and he won't stop making weird sarcastic jokes that sound serious at first bc lol he thinks he's funny so why would he stop

but its not that he /can't/ be serious. so now you have to judge every line for "ok but is this a joke or real"

and even if it is genuine, next you have to consider "what's left out" because alhaitham will not be bothered to explain himself in detail. no, figure it out yourself

and sure that level of critical thinking and meta-analysis is good to apply to characters in media, but to understand alhaitham you actually have to go that deep

you can't just be lazy about it and go with a surface-level understanding

and he does this on purpose lbr

alhaitham likes reading books bc he loves picking apart the author's perspective & figuring out biases/assumptions & placing his own takes up against the author's

so of course he would delight in forcing a reader/player/fan to have to dig deeply into how he thinks & compare to themself

sorry that's called critical thinking and if you aren't capable of that then why the heck should he stoop down to your level so he can be understood?

idk so its very fitting that he is the way he is

he is interested in learning more about himself tho, hence him wanting to use kaveh as a "mirror" for self-reflection... haitham is a scholar of his own self too!

(u can argue that thru this lens he's able to intellectualise/"explain" his emotions and distance himself from them)

but yeah alhaitham purposefully chooses to live freely as he wants and doesn't care about being understood easily by other ppl

bc like all the best books, isn't it more rewarding to have to ponder over the details & wrack your brain over what's being said

bookworm to the core fr