#when women wear a vest and pants ?????

[robo-milky]

I don’t play Reverse anymore but that new Tennant skin is making me act up…

[damnprecious]

me: *puts on a wool skirt, an apron, a poofy shirt and a wool vest in a 24°c apartment*

also me: why am I so hot

[trashabilly]

additional rant related to my tags on the last post i reblogged:

i distinctly remember employee appreciation day when i worked at the bank. the financial advisors got gift baskets and heartfelt individual little speeches from the branch manager while me and the other tellers got drinks from the bubble tea shop nearby that the manager picked (they were really gross flavour combinations and i couldn't drink mine bc im lactose intolerant and she got all dairy)

and then we got told collectively "you're not doing as bad as before but try to make less mistakes and not need as much help"

(we got virtually no hands on training, only powerpoints and if we needed management/an advisor to help us with something they would take at least 10 minutes to get to us while we had a line out the door and only 2 under trained tellers)

[profeminist]

Cartoon by https://www.instagram.com/vulgadrawings

AGGRIEVED ENTITLEMENT

looks like this:

[The single panel comic has a pink background. A white man with short brown hair wearing a white collared shirt and black pants is sitting on one end of a wide wooden bench. His arms are crossed and he is staring straight ahead, his legs splayed out to either side wider than his hips. To his right stands a woman with dark hair and brown skin wearing a green vest over a lilac long-sleeved shirt and black shirt. She is gesturing with one hand at the bench, smiling as she looks sideways at it.]

Woman: I THINK I DESERVE TO SIT ON THIS BENCH TOO!

[Below the first drawing, the woman is now sitting on the opposite end of the bench, her hands on her closed knees. She is looking sideways apprehensively at the man who has fallen onto the ground. His arms are flung out and he looks horrified.]

White man: OH MY GOD I'VE BEEN PUSHED OFF! THERE'S NO ROOM FOR ME ON [Underlined text.] MY [End underlined text.] BENCH ANYMORE!

See also: human conversation.

"Men perceived the discussion as being equal when women talked only 15% of the time, and the discussion as being dominated by women if they talked only 30% of the time."

[thir10th]

ciao, bella! - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

summary: you love your polyglot girlfriend TW: smut, oral sex, dirty talk, language kink (i don't actually speak Italian so i apologize for any possible mistakes), hair-pulling, i think that's it A/N: requests are welcome! i still have some drafts to finish first tho. Like and reblog, any kind of feedback is greatly appreciated! <3

The hours seem to pass so slowly when there's nothing you can do.

You're sitting on one of those uncomfortable chairs on that bullpen, a cup of coffee running cold on your hand. Staring at te board with all the names and pictures, you were starting to memorize it.

Morgan and Emily enter the room, the main suspect handcuffed and struggling to get away from Morgan's hard grip. Emily takes er bulletproof vest off to enter the interrogation room, you and Hotch following behind. She happened to be the only one who spoke italian on the team, so this one was hers.

You had profiled the unsub as the classical sexist, misogynist, scared of women over 130 pounds, or like you liked to call them- the unresolved mommy issues type.-

Your girlfriend was gonna eat him up alive, and you could not be more proud.

Morgan and Emily enter the room, he tells him to sit down, which he does seem to understand. Hotch and you watch the scene from the other side of the glass, your eyesnever leave Emiy, she carefully reads the file, in complete silence, making him nervous, until she starts speaking.

You certainly weren't expecting it, although you should've. It wasn't the first time you heard her speak other languages. Arabic, Russian, even Spanish, she always sounded so smooth, mysterious even, but there was just something about this exact moment, the way she challenged him, antagonized him, it was easy to tell she had complete control of the conversation despite that you could not understand a single word of what nether of them was saying.

Your braking point is when they start an argument, you cant really tell what it's about but she shoots from her seat, hitting the table hardly with a strong hand, you excuse yourself. You had to get out of there if you wanted to be able to finish the day.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

it takes you less than a second when she closes the door of your shared hotel bedroom behind herself, to wrap your arms around her waist, connecting your mouth to hers, pushing her body against the door.

"wow, not that I'm complaining but, what's got you all riled up?" she asks, a big smile on her face, the second you separate to catch your breath

"nothing... it's just..." you doubtfully say, her eyes scanning you, going from your eyes, to your lips, back to you eyes, both of you heavy breathing into each other.

"c'mon, spit it out" she says, leaving soft pecks on your lips to get you to talk

"just you, your voice" you confess "you know... when-"

"you like hearing me speak Italian?" she finishes for you, grabs you by your waist, and switches places with you, now she's pushing you against the door, running her hands down your back, reaching your ass giving it a gentle squeeze which makes you jump in your place.

"a little bit" you admit. Emily grins, cocky and gorgeous, she slips her hand into your pants and underwear, running two gentle fingertips up your center, collecting your slit, she shows you her hand, a proud smile on her face, you squirm underneath her touch

"this doesn't look like a bit to me" she kisses your cheek, your neck, you bring your lips to hers, your tongue slipping over her lower lip, in the desperate attempt that she’ll grant you access "Questo è quello che volevi?" you cannot control the moan that escapes your lips, her voice is soft, smooth, it makes you feel things, you kiss her again, this time she complies, granting you access.

She pushes you even harder against the door, her free hand finds its way underneath your shirt, you're not wearing a bra which gives her free access, she lets her fingers dance over your sensitive nipples, your breath becoming quicker with each passing second. “Please, Emily, I-” you got cut off as she sharply took one of her nipples into her fingers and twisted it, the pain quickly turning into pleasure

"what's that? or, should i say che dici?" you can't form any coherent words, you just let out a deep breath, grabbing you by the waist, she forces you onto the bed, her hips aggressively sitting on top of yours

"aww, la mia bambina è nervosa perché le piace che parli italiano?" she's loving the teasing, she loves making you nervous but mostly she loves how worked up she's getting you with only a couple of words.

She placed soft kisses all over your breasts, her lips wrap around your nipple, licking the rosy bud, her teeth softly tugging and nipping the sensitive area, you moan in pleasure.

Finally, she moves her mouth down, placing soft kisses all over your stomach, filling it with butterflies. She unbuttons your pants, aggressively taking off your underwear with them.

Even though you had her exactly where you wanted her, she was still too clothed. You pull on her shirt, hoping to get the message across, as your mind was all nice and fuzzy, she just put her hands up, so you could clumsily remove her shirt, leaving her in her bra and workpants.

"Em, please, just please" you cry desperately for her to finally finish what she started. You moan out as she forcefully shoved a finger up your dripping pussy, licking a strap long of your slit.

"ti piace questo tesoro?" you know you're in for a long ride, now that she knows that you like her Italian, she will be taking advantage of it, not that you're complaining, obviously.

"I don't understand a word of this, but it's working" you say, closing your eyes in pleasure,  your hands pulling on her hair, in a desperate attempt to pull her closer to where you needed her the most.

She was going slow just lapping up your juices, her tongue enjoying the taste of you, how drenched you were. Her lips finally met your clit, licking over the bundle of nerves, sucking the hardened bud.

"Oh fuck, yes baby don't stop" She began fucking you faster and harder, using her fingers, loving the wet sounds your pussy was making around them. Her fingers curled at the perfect spot inside you making your eyes roll back into your head. Her mouth sucking on your clit, her fingers drilling roughly into your pussy was bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Please, Em, I'm going to-"

"andiamo tesoro, puoi venire" you can only assume that's her way of approving, you came all over her mouth, her fingers, she lets you ride your high, and then collapses over you, laying on your side.

You open your eyes and see her laying next to you, playing softly with a strand of your hair, you need to catch your breath before you can return the favour.

"Who would've said that it would only take me speaking Italian to make you this horny ugh?" she asks, a playful grin on her face.

"It's just something about the accent i think, or maybe just the way you sound, i don't know, but you looked so sexy in the interrogation room today" you try to explain

"Well lucky for you, i'm fluent" you move to kiss her lips

"however there's someone else who can also speak Italian, right?" your mouth falls open when you realize what she means "OH! No, Emily! Why did you have to bring Rossi up now? You're ruining it" you close your eyes trying to erase that image from your head, Emily giggles "I'm sorry! C'mon, Scusa, amore mio, ti amo" she kisses you cheek, your lips, your face "Ok that one i know what it means" you hold her face in your hands, trapping her lips between yours, kissing her in return, her voice and herself the only thing on your mind again.

"C'mon baby" you straddle her hips "It's your turn, tesoro"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[neowinestainedress]

between us — johnny suh

title: between us

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

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

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

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

visuals

wc: 16.590k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I… I…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” He asks, brows raising.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wh-why do you care?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hum, biting the inside of your cheek.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Us?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It doesn’t work.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s you.

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

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

It’s only you and them.

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

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

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

Attention.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or so you think.

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

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

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

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

Yet, you can’t let it go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Looking for something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They snicker.

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

“Uhm, no…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, want to have fun with us?”

“Yeah…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Too much,” you cry out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Easily. If that was nothing to her…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But I —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[reversedumbrella]

teruki week 2024: happy birthday teruki

image description:

[ID: a five page comic for teruki week day 7: birthday. the first 3 pages happen inside a clothing shop's dressing room, where teru is trying multiple outfits while out of view mob comments on them. the first two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 1: fire/electricity. on the first fit, teru wears a top with a flame on it and fluffy long sleeves colored orange and yellow. his pants have five sections, each with flame designs. one red, one orange, one green, one blue and one purple. teru is wearing flipflops. mob comments "colorful." on the second fit, teru wears a green long sleeve shirt, a vest made out of fake lightning bolts, pants made out red, blue and black electric cables and boots. mob comments "zappy."

mob sits on a benchon the dressing room, right by him his flip phone is ringing. mob says "those look really good. anything else, Hanazawa". out of viwe teru replies "PLENTY! and with this years birthday money I might be able to take it all home!"

the second two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 2: school/festival. on the first fit teru is wearing a torn version of his school uniform. he smiles while rocking his head back and forth. mob comments "rock n' roll". on the second fit teru wears viana do Castelo's typical women clothing, nowadays just worn for an anual parade. red cloth on his head, large golden earings and necklaces. red shawl over a white shirl. large red apron over a black skirt. white socks and black shoes. mob comments "wow."

the third two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 3: star/copy. on the first fit teru wears a sparkly five point star around his head, star sunglasses, a pink top, jeans with two big sparkly stars over each knee and a lot of small stars all over, pink high heels. he wears bracelets similar to his head apparatus. mob comments "shinny." on the second fit there are two teru's each wearing outfits only differing in color, with only the shorts being the same. a top over a t-shirt over a long-sleeve shirt. shorts over leggings and sneakers. mob comments "maybe the shorts on the left…"

mob is sitting on the dressing room bench. his phone is either still ringing or ringing again. up to interpretation.

the fourth two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 4: official art/omake. the first fit comes from official art. purple and blue cap, green jacket over a white shirt with a lemon pattern. red shorts over greyscale camouflage leggings. green and yellow sneakers. none of these colors go well together. mob comments "fun." on the second fit teru is wearing a beach outfit. shirtless with blue beach shorts and green sandals. he has colorful necklaces and bracelets. with his right he's grabbing abucket with a shovel inside. on his head he's balancing a beach ball wearing heart sunglasses. mob comments "careful"

the fifth two outfits were inspired by teruki week day 5: hair/trauma. in the first fit teru is wearing a crazy wig that covers his upperbody and arms. it has four ponytails and is covered in braids. it also gives him a large moustache. he's wearing red leggings and green shoes. mob comments "hairy". the second fit is a brocolli and boots. both meet at his calves. his arms are free but his hands have smaller brocolli over them. this is the only fit mob doesn't comment on.

mob is sitting on the bench when teruki grabs him while saying "C'MON". mob replies "huh?!" and teru answers "you didn't really though i was buying just for me?!"

the last outfit was inspired by teruki week day 6: protagonist/rival. mob is the one wearing it. mob's outfit is a clash of colors and patterns. sweater with a star design around the neck. the neck is red, the star is orange and the rest of the sweater is yellow ith green stripes and dots. pink bell bottoms with bright pink stars. teru is showering mob in compliments. he drowns himself in dread thinking "i should have known kageyama-kun would have looked amazing regardless of what he wears. those clothes are too bold even for me but he dawns the clothes i picked with such ease. i have lost again. he is my rival even in fashion sense. there is no way i could have ever won against him…"

the next two apges are the aftermath of the shopping spree. mob and teru laugh and walk with multiple bags, teru carrying two and mob carrying the rest on his arms. happy, teru looks up and then at mob. he says "thank you for getting some time to spend on my birthday with me. i know you have a busy life". mob blushes and turns away saying " no problem. i like spending time with you…" mob phone rings again. teru points at it and says: "there goes your phone again". mob makes all his left arm bag levitate and uses it to open the phone. mob clarifies "just master reigen. there'sa complicated client . he keeps texting in case i need to go there" out of view teru comments "it's nice he calls in advance" to wich mob throws a side-eye. mob looks surprised at his phone, grabs teru and screams "we have to go!!" mob and teru run with the bags floating around them. teru goes up the satirs to reigen's office. out of view mob says "prepare for anything!" teru grabs the door handle and opens the door. inside reigen, serizawa, tome, ritsu and the awakening lab kids scream "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!" reigen is holding a cake with 15 candles. end ID]

[a-little-revolution]

where do you shop for clothes? I’m plus size so I know the struggle of finding cute clothes when you’re not shaped the way corporations think you should be, and I’m very curious how you approach it

Hello! I mostly thrift my clothing, since I'm poor and plus size - a big thing for me is layering and accessorizing. I love mixing patterns, materials and textures to give a sort of bog witch meets howls moving castle vibe! I especially love thrift stores that mostly older women go to, so I can get a lot of old fashioned jewellery and things.

Plus size-wise I go for a lot of high waist-ed skirts and dresses, I've pretty much completely ditched pants because finding ones that fit me was always a nightmare (plus trying them on always felt so triggering and draining). When I do buy pants I never go for jeans or tight fit ones, but rather ones with draw strings. Overall leggings are far more size inclusive and I can wear fleece ones in the winter!

Overall I go for fairly cheap pieces and arrange them in colour pallets that I adore, and add a lot of fake pearls, scarves, crystals and jewellery!

Photo description: a series of five photos displaying various outfits within my style. I am a little person with curly green hair (also purple in a couple photos), pointy eyebrows, a beard and gold facial jewellery. The first photo is a mirror selfie of me sitting in my wheelchair at a local thrift store. I am wearing a dark green frilly shirt with a dark blue Lolita dress over it, and a duo-chrome pearl necklace. In the second photo I am wearing red high waist pants with vertical stripes, a sheer orange floral shirt with the top buttons undone, with white and red pearl necklaces. The third photo is another mirror selfie in a book shop, I am standing with my rollator and wearing a dark green dress with a long sleeve purple button up under it. I wear a few necklaces and a black and grey striped tie tied into a non traditional bow. The forth photo was taken by a friend of mine while I am smoking CBD on our porch. I am wearing a purple button up, orange vest, green skirt and green jacket covered in buttons and patches. My jewlery included gold sun earrings, pearl necklaces, and a piece of citrine on a chain. I am wearing round glasses and stars drawn where my eyebrows are shaved off. The last photo is a mirror selfie in the men's washroom where I wear a more punk style - a black tank top over a black and white striped shirt, a black beanie, white pearls and black necklaces. Hearts are drawn where my eyebrows are shaved off.

[neechees]

Hi! You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, that's totally fine! But you talking about Orville Peck's appropriation of indigenous culture with his fashion choices made me realize that I had never considered that there might be some aspects of "cowboy clothes" that white ppl shouldn't wear and that was super wrong of me. Again, you totally don't have to answer this, but I was just wondering what ways a white person could wear "cowboy clothes" in a manner that wasn't disrespectful? Or perhaps, should we not wear them at all? I can't afford T yet, but when I can finally get it I was planning on getting a cowboy outfit to embrace my trans mascness, but if that would be wrong of me I can scrap that plan no problem!

Ehhh again this is actually SUPER HARD to answer because almost everything about cowboy fashion & the cowboy "aesthetics" are lifted directly from Native American fashion and culture, either because a lot of cowboys back in the day were Native American themselves (including Afro-Natives & Indigenous Mexican vaqueros) or they were White & just kinda. stole the look from the Native cowboys due to a number of factors.

If you google "cowboy jewelry" the first thing that comes up is silverwork & belts & turquoise jewelry, which is taken from Navajo metalwork. Fringed leather clothing? Again, many Native tribes did that (& in some tribes the fringes could mean something, its not just for looks), most popularily with vests, jackets, and pants. A lot if the leather jackets were a result of Native women just sewing their clothes the same but in a European styled cut. Compare this "cowboy" look below to a Lakota war shirt: both have hair embellishments dangling from the arms.

Studded belts? Inspired by Cheyenne mirror belts, which often also have metal studs in them & you'll still see Native pow wow dancers have this in their regalia. Floral vests? A lot of the inspiration comes from Plains floral beadwork. Geometric patterns and blankets? Came from Southwest or Mexican Native American blankets & designs, ask any Navajo weaver & they'll tell you the same. Feathers in cowboy hats? Who else is famous for wearing feathers on their heads--? Native Americans. The look is still popular with older Native men.

Hell, if you visit this site that sells Western/cowboy fashion, you'll see a SHITTON of appropriation going on, taking Native imagery & designs, including one taken from Native American ledger art, all on White models.

The appropriation of Native culture and fashion in the cowboy/western sphere is ongoing, and the influence that Native fashion & culture has in Western/cowboy fashion as it is is absolutely MASSIVE. I once said in another post that the cowboy/western aesthetic essentially belongs to Native Americans, Latines (especially Mexicans), and Black people. And the history of White cowboys has been one largely of colonialism, racism, and displacement of Indigenous peoples, and the masculinity associated with White cowboys especially is also steeped into racism & American patriotism (think John Wayne. There's a reason he's an American icon who played cowboys & killing Indians in films.). I think the only thing that isn't influenced from either appropriation or colonization is like, jeans. Even the style of cowboy boots themselves and potentially chaps were influenced from vaqueros.

So if you're White I'm not sure that'd exactly be a good route to take because trying to seperate Indigenous elements from this fashion/look (nevermind the problematic history of White cowboys) is almost impossible. Obviously I can't force you to do anything, but honestly if I were you, I'd try a different direction, because otherwise I think you'll find trying to do this will be very hard.

[moons-dunes]

Summon the Suit

For Kinktober- Prompt: Suit + Mask Kink

Kinktober Masterlist

18+ Only MDNI

Pairing: Steven Grant x female reader

Summary: The sight of Steven in the Mr Knight suit awakens something in you. Steven finds out.

WC: ~2.7k

This work contains: slight mention of violence (nothing serious), reader is implied to be a mercenary, the boys are still working for Khonshu in this, inappropriate use of Steven’s batons, semi-clothed sex, sex against the wall, PiV, probably don’t do this in real life. Please let me know if I missed anything!

The last of Harrow’s disciples hit the ground, the attempt at avenging their deceased leader and goddess put to an end. For now.

You looked around at the unconscious men and women, satisfied to see them completely still save for the shallow rise and fall of their chests.

You wiped some blood from your cheek, the dark red smearing across the back of your hand from where the rings of your attacker split your skin.

Steven picked up his batons, letting them magically fade back into the suit.

The suit you hadn’t seen before.

Usually in these situations it was you and Marc working together to carry out Khonshu’s missions, much to the skeletal bird’s dismay.

This, however, had been a surprise attack.

A night out with Steven had turned into an ambush.

“You alright?” He asked as he ran over to you, gently placing his gloved hands on your shoulders. The mask covering his face disappeared, revealing his messy hair and sweaty forehead.

He was looking you over, eyes wide and frantic.

Thankfully neither of you had gotten hurt too badly.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you assured him, wiping your hand against your pants. “You?”

You knew they had Khonshu to protect them, but you still couldn’t help but worry for them. As much as you disliked the god, you were glad for the armour he provided them with.

“All good, yup,” Steven spoke softly, shrugging off his pristine white jacket. “Here, don’t want you to freeze before we get home.”

With all the adrenaline you hadn’t even realized you were cold until he draped the surprisingly thick fabric over your shoulders, warming your bare arms.

He wrapped his arm around you, hastily leading you in the direction of the flat. It wasn’t too far from where you two had gotten jumped.

“Not the best way to end date night,” Steven sighed as you two walked quickly, continuing to look behind the both of you to make sure you weren’t being followed.

“I’ve had worse,” you joked, making him smile a bit.

It didn’t take long to reach the building, and Steven quickly buzzed in.

It was nice to be back home, out of the biting chill of the night. And more importantly, away from anyone who wanted to hunt the two of you down.

Stepping into the lift, your eyes turned to the mirrors that decorated the walls.

Now that you two were safe, you took time to admire the sharp suit Steven was wearing.

The silky fabric almost seemed to glimmer in the fluorescent light of the lift, making each intricate detail pop.

You couldn’t help but to sneak a peek at how the tailored pants accentuated the curve of his ass, or how the vest hugged his waist.

Oh dear.

“You coming, love?” Steven asked with a gentle squeeze to your shoulders, and you realized the elevator doors had opened. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah…” you trailed off, forcing yourself back into reality. “Just tired.”

~~~~~~

It had been a week since you saw Steven’s suit, and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You were having dreams about him in it; fantasizing about him fucking you with it on.

Khonshu was annoying, sure, but at least he had good taste in what he made his avatars wear.

The image of the bright white fabric, a beautiful contrast to Steven’s olive skin. How his dark curls got ever so slightly messed up from the fit of the mask.

He looked so sharp in it, and he seemed more confident when it was on. The way he skillfully flipped around was something you never thought you’d see from him, let alone how effortlessly he manoeuvred those batons of his.

And those damn tight pants. It was nearly impossible not to sneak a peek at his-

“Darling?” Steven’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to the present.

“Huh?” You responded quickly, snapping your head to look up from your empty plate. “Sorry, I was just thinking about the… um… the… something. From work.”

‘Yup real smooth.’ You scolded yourself internally.

“Oh really?” He questioned, the corners of his mouth starting to form a subtle smile. “And what might that be?”

Oh god, he knew. He totally knew.

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You felt your cheeks heating up.

“You weren’t very subtle the other night, love,” he confirmed that he knew, standing from his chair to come and stand behind you. “And you talk in your sleep.”

You swallowed hard.

“Steven, I-“ you tried to explain, but you really had no excuse. “I’m sorry?”

That definitely sounded more like a question than an actual apology.

His hands rubbed up and down your arms, and he leaned down to brush his lips against the shell of your ear. Goosebumps erupted over your skin, sending a shiver through you.

A gentle gust of air came from behind you, and Steven’s now gloved hands found yours.

“No need to be sorry, love,” he whispered in your ear, feeling the fabric of his mask rather than his lips against your skin.

You let out a quick shriek when the chair you were in was suddenly spun around, the wooden legs scraping against the floor.

You were met with glowing white eyes staring into yours, a sight that had you clenching your thighs together.

You curiously lifted your hand and traced your fingers down the seam that ran down the middle of the mask, brushing across the raised crescent moon as well.

Steven brought a gloved hand to your face, resting it against your cheek and letting his thumb brush your bottom lip. The fabric of his glove slid across your skin, creating an unfamiliar but welcome feeling. You shifted in the chair a bit, feeling the unmistakable heat of your arousal growing.

“Come on, love,” he grabbed your hand and pulled you up, leading you to the sofa. “More comfortable here, yeah?”

He sat you down on the edge of the sofa, then knelt on the floor in front of you.

“Y-yeah…” you stammered a bit, unable to pull your gaze away from the glowing eyes that seemed to stare right through you.

He shucked his jacket off carelessly, revealing the dress shirt and vest underneath while you watched shamelessly.

“Enjoying yourself, darling?” He asked sweetly, his hands coming to rest on your knees.

“Yes! Yes, it’s good,” you stumbled over your words a bit, trying to get yourself together as much as you could. “Please, keep going.”

You heard him chuckle a bit, then his hands found the waistband of your leggings.

You lifted your hips so he could pull them down and off, tossing them to the side.

You were sure he saw the wet spot on your underwear when he pushed your knees apart, it must have been blatantly obvious.

He ran a single gloved finger over the thin fabric with a pleased hum, making your hips twitch as he barely brushed over your clit.

He flicked his arms and wrists outwards suddenly, making his batons appear. Your breathing picked up immediately, shaky and heavy.

“Make sure you tell me if it’s too much, alright my love?” Steven’s tone grew more serious, waiting patiently for you to answer.

“I will, promise,” you assured him, feeling a knot forming in your stomach from the anticipation.

He set one baton on the couch beside you, holding the other steady in his hand as he pressed the blunt end against your aching clit.

You gasped a bit at the feeling of the cold metal through your underwear, and at the much needed pressure against you. Your hips started grinding against the baton, letting the end of it rub against your clit over and over.

“Oh wow…” Steven muttered under his breath, watching your movements intently as he felt his cock starting to strain against his trousers.

The little excited breaths he was letting out were driving you insane, slightly muffled by the fabric over his face.

As much as you loved the mask, you found yourself wanting to see the look on Steven’s gorgeous face.

“Wanna see you, angel,” you somehow managed to say clearly, making him look up into your eyes again.

The mask disappeared, revealing his doe eyes and slightly parted lips. His hair was a bit messy again, a few stray curls falling over his face. The low yellow light of the lamp shone against his skin, creating a near golden glow.

You smiled down at him, taking in the view.

“My pretty boy,” you purred, making him blush a bit.

You bucked your hips against the baton a bit faster, feeling the wet spot on your underwear grow.

You caught sight of Steven’s free hand rubbing over the tent in his tight pants, slow but steady.

You froze your movements when you felt the rounded end of the baton push your underwear aside, teasing your wet entrance.

“Can I-“ Steven started.

“Yes,” you didn’t let him finish, bucking your hips up to coat the metal with your arousal.

You angled your hips into a better position for what he was about to do.

You tossed your head back and squeezed your eyes shut, going still as the baton stretched you out deliciously.

Steven didn’t push it in too far, careful not to hurt you or make you uncomfortable, but it was enough to send a new wave of pleasure through you.

He stopped once the baton was about a quarter of the way in, holding it still so you could adjust to the new feeling.

The sensation was a bit odd, but not unpleasant.

It was oddly pleasurable.

Once your breathing evened out, Steven started to slowly pump the baton in and out of you.

You lifted your heavy head, looking down where the portion of it disappeared into you. You saw the glint of your juices in the light each time he pulled it back.

It didn’t take long for you to get used to the feeling, and despite the slow pace it made the knot in your stomach twist even tighter.

An idea passed through your slightly dazed head.

Your slightly shaky hand found the baton that had been discarded beside you on the couch, grasping it tightly.

Once you felt comfortable with the weight of it, and once you could steady your hand, you extended your arm to gently rest the baton against Steven’s cheek.

He gasped quietly as the cold metal touched his heated skin, the hand on his crotch losing rhythm for a second.

Right as you were about to run your idea past him, to ask him if it was even okay, he carefully took the tip between his lips. It was like he read your mind.

This man was going to be the death of you.

You let him control how far he wanted to take the baton into his mouth, holding it still for him so you didn’t accidentally hit his teeth.

He started bobbing his head in time with the thrusts of the baton in you, creating a symphony of the squelching of your drenched cunt and his sputtering moans.

His hand was moving quicker over his trousers, giving him the friction he so desperately needed just from watching you.

He angled the baton up a bit, pressing against the spot inside of you that made you let out a surprised but pleasure filled moan.

The sight of your dripping hole clenching around the baton had him more worked up then he could have imagined.

Your moans echoed through his head, going straight to his cock.

He needed you so bad.

He didn’t want to stop what you both were doing, but he was getting desperate.

He pulled his mouth from the baton in your hand with a slight pop, then carefully removed the other from your now thoroughly soaked entrance.

“Steven, what-“ you looked down at him with worry, wondering if you had done something wrong.

“Shhh,” he shushed you gently, making the batons disappear. “Need you so bad, love. Can’t wait.”

He pulled your underwear down your legs, dropping the garment to the floor.

He rolled the long sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, showing off his strong forearms that were so often hidden by his big sweaters and jackets.

“Good lord, baby,” you breathed out quietly, completely immersed in the beautiful sight before you.

Steven looked you directly in the eyes as he took the fingertip of his left glove between his teeth, slowly pulling it off before repeating the action with the right glove.

He swiped two of his fingers along your slit, gathering your wetness before sticking out his tongue and making a show of licking them clean.

You swore you could have passed out right then and there.

He stood up from his spot on the floor, undoing his pants with his trembling hands. He let out a sigh of relief as his achingly hard cock was freed from the confines of the taut fabric, precum leaking from his purple-reddish tip.

You shimmied up the couch a bit, reclining against the back of the couch so Steven could lean over you.

You grabbed his tie, pulling him in for a messy and hungry kiss. Your hands tangled in his hair, holding him as close as possible. You could vaguely taste yourself on his tongue, along with the faint taste of metal.

You yelped in surprise when he hoisted you up from the couch, his hands under your ass to hold you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, looping your hands behind his neck.

Steven walked you two like that until your still clothed back hit the wall, effectively pinning you between it and him.

You broke your lips away from his as he lowered you down onto his hard cock, pushing a small gasp from you.

He let out a heavy breath followed by a quiet moan, closing his eyes as he felt himself stretch you out. The warm wetness around his cock was invigorating.

You pressed your face into his shoulder, breathing in the scent of him and the now rather dishevelled suit.

Steven pressed you harder against the wall, giving him the leverage to put more power behind the thrust of his hips. You moaned into his shoulder as he started moving in you, your teeth grazing the fabric beneath your face.

You squeezed your legs tighter around him, holding on for dear life as he started hammering his hips up into yours. His lips found your neck, nipping and moaning against your sensitive skin as he pounded into you.

“Love I..” he choked on his words, murmuring in your ear. “I’m not gonna last very long. Feels so good.”

Your walls spasmed around him, making him let out a whine into your shoulder.

“Me either,” you managed to get out, pulling your head back to look him in the eyes.

He looked absolutely ruined; beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his hair falling into his face. His eyes were dark and wide, absolutely full of lust and desire. You were sure you didn’t look much different.

You pressed your forehead against his, both of you shutting your eyes as your noses brushed together.

A couple more particularly hard thrusts had you tumbling over the edge, and Steven was falling with you.

You came over his cock as he shot his warm spend into you, making a mess of your thighs as his stuttering thrusts continued.

You both held each other tightly, riding out the high together. His lips found yours again, both of you gasping against each other.

Your mind was buzzing with pure euphoria; every nerve on fire. You didn’t even notice at first that you were back on the couch, still tangled together on top of Steven. He slowly pulled his softening cock from you, still holding you tight against his chest.

The two of you laid in content silence, soothed by the sound of each other’s heavy breathing.

You felt the mess you had made on the pants of his suit against your thigh, and you chuckled under your breath.

Khonshu wasn’t going to be happy about this one.

[thebrightsilverlining]

Types of Phantom Thief Outfits

Oftentimes when someone genderbends one of the male Phantom Thieves, their Thief outfit is always redone to include a skirt. This is something I always found strange, considering the fact that none of the girls wear skirts as part of their Thief outfit. In fact, with P5X introducing a truckload of new Phantom Thieves, I realized that the lack of skirts and dresses almost seems to be a rule when it comes to the designs, as NONE of the new characters wear skirts.

So, because of that, I wanted to break down the kinds of outfits the Thieves actually wear, from most common to least common.

The most common type of outfit the Thieves wear is a one-piece. While most of these are skintight bodysuits (Oracle, Puppet, Panther, Queen, etc), there's also jumpers (Fox), and rompers (Riddle). These outfits can include modifications and additional parts (Skull's vest and Moko's cape) but ultimately the main outfit is one article of clothing.

Next up is long pants. The second most popular category, it is pretty much exactly what it says on the tin. All these characters where a typical ensemble of long pants and a shirt, with a variety of different styles and accessories to keep things from becoming boring.

After long pants are shorts. Notably, there are only women in this category, while the previous categories had a mix. These shorts can be worn with or without leggings, with Sophia's outfit getting the closest to something that could be considered a dress, due to how short her shorts are and the fit of her shirt. If the character is not wearing leggings or tights, they seem to instead be put in long socks.

Now we enter into the smaller categories. Only two characters are in the poofy pants category, but I thought it was worth pointing out. Not too much to say here. Both poofy pants characters have their entire body covered, with boots or leggings going right up to the end of the pants.

Finally, we're in the singular character categories. Bui gets the closest to a skirt or dress, even closer than Sophia. However, because of the way her outfit is designed, it appears as if she's wearing a long shirt with leggings, rather than a really short dress. Worth noting, though, due to the fact that it is one of the few outfits that could be argued to be a dress.

Finally, Wonder gets his own slot, because I genuinely can't tell what he's wearing. Is that a bodysuit with leggings? Shorts with leggings? Where does his cape end and his under outfit begin? Who knows. So he gets his own category.

[ralvezfanatic]

Outfits and Naps

Spencer Reid x FTM!Reader

FEM-ALIGNED DNI - You will be blocked if you interact with this post. This is made for trans men/mascs, not women.

Reader is bored at home, not having much to do. He decided to try on some outfits he bought earlier, and then falls asleep.

Warnings: Mostly focused on Reader. Slightly feminine outfit mentioned. Dysphoria is implied if you squint really hard. Practically just a random drabble I randomly came up with. Reader has a cat because cats are very cool. Also, guys.. please don't sleep in your binder..

Word Count: 1.2k

Spencer was away at work, so it was only you and your childhood cat (that you got at 17.. so more of a teenage-hood cat), Mr. Whiskers the 3rd (and since it was such a long name, you shortened it to Mr. Whiskers. Although you stated his full government name was Furball Whiskers the 3rd.) at home.

You didn't have much to do, it was a peaceful day and you decided you were going to order takeout for dinner when Spencer came home. So, cooking wasn't an option. Having set your mind to takeout, there was no way you could cook. You already knew what you were going to order, so you couldn't change plans.

So there you were, sitting on the couch, your cat next to you, sleeping while you were bored out of your mind. You pet him for a whole, sighing as you tried to come up with something to do. Calm days were actually really boring. As you thought, you scrolled through your phone, switching between apps trying to get an idea.

Maybe you could take a walk? No, too cold, and you felt bad leaving Mr. Whiskers alone.

As you scrolled through your phone, you saw this post which reminded you of some outfits you bought and wanted to try on earlier, but always put aside. Happy that you found something to do, you stood up, rushing to your bedroom, your cat soon following behind.

You threw your phone on your bed, heading to your closet and pulling out some boxes where you stored the outfits. You carried them and placed them on the bed to open and take the clothes out.

You decided to wear your binder while trying on clothes, so you knew how they'd look when you go out. You go get it, and put it on after a few minutes of struggling.

Now you stood by your bed again, your cat sitting in the middle of the bed, waiting for the boxes to empty.

“Which one looks better Mister? This? Or.. this?” You ask him, holding out a cropped turtleneck with the shoulders cut in your left hand, and a white, sleeveless button up shirt in your right.

Mr. Whiskers turned his head to the left, sniffing the air a bit, which had made you think he chose the turtleneck, but then he turned his head to the right, so you thought he changed his mind. Finally, he just spun around in a circle trying to get comfortable on your bed before lying down and not picking anything out for you.

“Thanks..” You mumble, wondering why you even bothered asking a cat for help. You decided you would try both of them, hoping to style them for future use. You set the button up shirt down and put on the turtleneck. You had to find a nice pair of pants now.. which was difficult because you knew this turtleneck would look great with a skirt, but you weren't that comfortable yet.

Finally, you decided on a pair of black jeans, because you couldn't figure out what else to wear. You thought you looked nice, and snapped a mirror selfie of your newly created outfit and sent it to Spencer.

That's how you spent your afternoon, mixing and matching different shirts and pants, trying out different outfits, taking pictures, and sending a few to your boyfriend, asking for his opinion.

Not that he was helpful, that man said you looked absolutely stunning in each outfit you created. And also he usually stuck with sweater vests and slacks.. so he didn't really know he was supposed to help with.

You gave up after his third, “They both look great.” and his second “It’s you, anything looks good on you.”

Obviously, he wasn't helping, so you just sent him pictures of what you decided looked better, which he still enjoyed.

Finally, you tried out all the new clothes you got, and managed to style each of them. You put everything away, and sat on the bed, telling yourself you were only sitting to think of something else to do, but instead ended up laying down and falling asleep.

Spencer opened the front door, and was surprised when Mr. Whiskers didn't rush over to sniff and inspect him. “Y/N! I'm home.” He called out, closing the door behind him, only to be met with silence. Puzzled on why he arrived home to be met with a quiet house and no greeting, he ventured further into your house. He grew slightly nervous, which was only normal considering his job, but kept calmed.

He walked into the bedroom, slowly opening the door, hoping you just fell asleep and the animals were locked in with you.

As he opened the door, he was met with the cutest view, and he felt his heart melt at what was in front of him. He smiled, taking out his phone to snap a quick picture before walking up to the bed.

You laid in bed, wearing a pair of your boyfriend's sweatpants, which were baggy on your smaller body, along with your binder that you didn't take off after trying on clothes. In front of you was Mr. Whiskers, which you held close, hugging him as if he was a plushie.

He had been asleep, but woke up when Spencer entered the bedroom. He only looked up to him, but stayed comfortably on the bed under his owner's arms.

Spencer couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at the sight, finding it absolutely adorable how you slept with your cat. He also saw how you still had your binder on and decided to wake you up, now knowing how long you had it on.

“Love. Get up, you need to get that binder off.” He shook you lightly, trying to wake you up in a nice manner. You grumble and shoo him off, trying to pull your cat closer, but he decided to get up when Spencer started to wake you. “Y/N, get out of your binder..” He insisted, shaking your shoulder now.

You groaned being woken up from your nap and shook your head no. “Mm.. 5 more minutes.” You mumbled, hiding your face in your hands, turning away from your boyfriend.

Spencer laughed and shook his head, finding your sleepiness amusing. “No, get up Y/N. Now.” He laughed, grabbing your arms and pulling you up to a sitting position.

As he managed to sit you up, he smiled at your now barely conscious self. “I was having such a good nap ‘Pence.. you should have joined me instead of waking me.” You mumble, leaning your head on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his own.

“Sweetheart, as good as a nap it was.. and as cute as you look in my sweatpants and your binder, you shouldn't be sleeping with that on! Now go change, I'll give you one of my sweaters if you want too.” He smiled, pressing a kiss on your temple. “And then we can cuddle and nap if you want to.” He added on, knowing that'll be good enough motivation for you to go change.

You turn your head to look at him and smile, pressing a quick kiss to his mouth before getting up to change out of your binder, rushing so you could cuddle up with him.

[perlukafarinn]

Rating Star Trek TOS uniforms because why not!

Pilot uniforms. Pajama ass looking outfits. They look cozy but a little too cozy to be exploring the galaxy in; the underboob sweat must be ungodly. Points also deducted for Spock's TERF bangs, 4/10.

Second pilot uniforms. They look just like the first but somehow even worse. The science division doesn't even get its own color! 3/10.

TOS classic uniform. Now we're talking! The women no longer get to wear pants but honestly I think it's the men who are missing out on the miniskirts. The fabric looks light and breathable and each division now gets its own color. Those fruity little heeled boots complete the look, 9/10.

Red gym tights. They are red, they are tight, and they do not come with a matching shirt. Simple yet delightful, 8/10.

Green wraparound Captain's shirt. She's an icon, she's a legend, and she is the moment. Perfect for when Kirk is feeling a little slutty or wants to set himself apart from his evil twin, 10/10.

Mirrorverse uniforms. Slutty and tacky, the perfect outfits for going out on Friday night or maybe figure skating in the Olympics. Not giving the guys crop tops was a coward move but I do appreciate Kirk's v-neck vest, 9/10.

Dress uniforms. They look so cute in their fancy little outfits! The golden accents and arts-and-crafts "badges" really tickle me but the uncomfortable looking high collars drag it down a bit, 7/10

[justporo]

The moon and the stars

A Night of Fake Smiles and Hidden Lies: Part 2

Author's Note: In which Tav and Astarion continue preparing for the ball - and it almost broke me to describe their clothing (this fic really makes me break out a dictionary way too often...)

Song: Suit & Tie - Justin Timberlake

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav Rating: Explicit Warnings: none

CHAPTER LIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

~~~

When you finally left the bathroom, you felt indeed pleasantly relaxed – physically and mentally. Astarion had made you put on a fancy silken robe he had gotten for you as a gift. The smooth fabric felt pleasantly cool on your skin and you couldn’t stop looking at the wonderful floral pattern it had and its deep red colour. Astarion, in the meantime, had slipped into a similar robe made of satin that was obviously the match for yours in pattern and colour.

“Come with me, my love, I have something else for you”, Astarion said with a promising smile and led you to your joint bedroom. Surely, there he had already placed a bottle of wine and two goblets for you on a sidetable next to the chaise longue you had also placed in this room. “You really got to stop showering me with gifts, Astarion, I can’t keep up with you”, you laughed when you saw the dress laid out on the bed. Next to it was a doublet, shirt, vest and pants.

“Firstly: no, I don’t! Secondly, you don’t have to! And thirdly, it was a gift for myself as much as for you, my love”, Astarion responded and went over to the small table to pour you some wine.

“You really thoroughly prepared all this, didn’t you?”, you asked as you walked closer to the bed to take a closer look at the dress laying there. You were intimidated by the thought of wearing something so unusual for you – but you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that you also felt pretty excited. Wasn’t this what so many girls and women dreamt of? Being a princess, at least one time in your life, dancing with your partner in a castle? In your case with your regal prince?

Just that your prince happened to be a very sassy vampire; but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

You giggled at the thought which caught Astarion’s attention. “What’s there to giggle, my love?”, he asked looking at you with suspicion as he came over to you and offered you the goblet with wine. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking about how you’d make a terrible prince on a white horse.” Astarion looked confused for a second, then snorted: “Yeah well, for that sort of thing you should have chosen Wyll, my sweet.” He took a swig of wine and so did you.

“Nah”, you replied after that and made a face. “I love my snarky little vampire way too much for that.” You smiled at him and gave him a kiss.

“I don’t know where the ‘little’ comes from, but anyways. I love you too, my sweet princess, now go look at the dress I brought you or I’ll take it back”, Astarion teased after the kiss and motioned towards the bed with his head.

So, you finally strode over and took in the garment: It was a striking deep blue that became lighter and a wonderful shade of purple up to lavender further down the skirt – impressively similar to the colours the sky turned when the sun set. It had a high collar that didn’t fully close around the neck in the front, so it allowed for a deep neckline that almost looked like a four-pointed star and long flowy sleeves that from the elbows down became cascading trains of fabric. The bodice was decorated with embroidered bigger four-point stars and smaller sparkles in silver and a few shiny stones. From the slender belt around the waistline down it became a luscious silken skirt that was carefully draped with few more star decorations that became fewer the more the colours lightened.

It was quite frankly stunning. Regal and elegant, but not overly flamboyant which would have been something you would have never felt comfortable to wear. And the most important thing: no corset. You wouldn’t have believed it, but you were actually excited to put this garment on.

You turned to Astarion with a huge grin who carefully expected your reaction. “You delivered on your promise to not make me wear a corset”, you cheerfully exclaimed. “And?”, drawled Astarion raising his eyebrows and lowering his gaze at you expectantly. Shortly, you considered making a joke, but you saw how genuinely excited Astarion looked so you went with the truth: “It’s incredibly beautiful and I am indeed pretty excited to put it on and see what it looks like on me.” To that Astarion’s eyes started shining with joy and love. “Neither can I, beautiful”, he cooed and pulled you in with one arm to nuzzle his nose against your cheek.

“Did you do the embroidery yourself?”, you asked while you wrapped your arm not occupied with wine around his waist and kept looking at the dress. “Well, of course”, the vampire replied. You could feel his chest rise with pride – and rightfully so.

“Let me take a look at your outfit before I get dressed”, you said after a while and took a sip of wine. You untangled yourself from Astarion and stepped closer to the bed again to where his clothes were laying next to yours.

Quite obviously his shirt, vest, doublet and pants were made to match your dress – or maybe it had rather been the other way around. The shirt was simple: white, with a high collar and some lace details at the hems. The pants already were more intricate: black leather that at first looked quite plain but patterns of swirls and undulations were pressed into it all over. The vest was very similar to your bodice, also with a high neck but the shade was an even darker blue and it closed at the front with intricate silver clasps all over the chest. Of course, it had some embroidery as well.

But the doublet was the centre piece of it all: You could see that the satin cloth – being the same shade of blue as the vest - had the same swirls as a pattern as the pants but it only became visible in the right angle of light. The front was intricately embroidered with silver stars. Smaller stars formed bigger stars and those an even bigger symmetrical pattern. Smaller parts of embroidery were placed on the sleeves and the hems. The button border was completely worked in silver thread, every silver button had a star on it and was closed with silver cord.

You were in awe. You were pretty sure you had never seen a finer piece of clothing. And knowing that Astarion had done the embroidery work himself – your jaw dropped. “You’ve outdone yourself”, you whispered, still awestruck.

“Ah well, I mean, I only picked out the pieces and did the embroi-“ “Shut up and take the compliment, Astarion, humbleness doesn’t become you”, you immediately stopped him with a raised finger and looked at him. He closed his opened mouth and shrugged: “I mean, we are going to look gorgeous.” “Better! Now then – time to dress?” You looked at Astarion who only grinned at you and nodded.

You put down your remaining wine and carefully lifted up the dress while Astarion sat or rather laid down on the chaise longue. Leaning back on one of his arms, his robe opened up and you could see his bare chest beneath. When you looked at him quizzically, he said: “Don’t mind me, my love, I just wanted to get comfortable to enjoy the show.” He grinned at you lewdly and you immediately felt some of the heat from earlier come back.

You decided to just get going. You looked at the dress in your hands for a few more moments and then put it back down to free your hands when you saw that there had been something else laying under it.

Obviously, Astarion had picked out some lacey underwear to go with the dress. It was intricately worked, the same shade of blue as the dress – also an awful lot of nothing. You blushed and threw Astarion a glance whose grin only had become naughtier at you making the discovery.

“This looks more complicated to put on than the dress to be honest”, you whispered a bit coyly suddenly – almost more to yourself than to him. “You don’t have to, my sweet, call it merely a suggestion if you would”, Astarion said and got up to stand behind you. He grabbed you by the waist and leaned down to whisper to you: “If you don’t feel comfortable with it, that’s absolutely fine.” He pressed a soft kiss to your pointy ear. “No, I want to”, you immediately exclaimed.

“Good, because I’d love to tear it off you with my teeth later”, Astarion responded with a husky whisper and a tone that dripped with sinful promise like molten chocolate. He pressed another kiss to your cheek and went back to nonchalantly lounge on the chaise longue while you felt your blush grow and your eyes widen.

“One of these days you’re going to kill me saying stuff like this”, you breathed out. The vampire chuckled: “Only by saying? My love, I haven’t even started the doing.” By all the Gods – you had to turn away from him as he kept laughing and sipping his wine.

You carefully put on the lingerie while you were painfully aware of Astarion’s gaze burning into your back. But you didn’t turn around again – firstly, because you wouldn’t give him that present yet. And secondly, because you were scared the evening would be over way too quickly if you did.

Then you put on the dress. It had a long row of buttons down the back, so Astarion had to come over again to help you. And he did so by giving your neck a kiss for every button his fingers closed.

When he was done – the last button had earned you several kisses – he stepped back. “Turn around for me, darling?”, he asked almost shyly. You did, slowly while you looked down at yourself and could already feel yourself getting giddy.

“How do I look, my love?”, you asked coyly and softly swayed from side to side while gazing at Astarion through your lashes.

The vampire was speechless, his face was basically in shock as his eyes wandered up and down over your body. And then up again. And then down again!

“Like a goddess, my heart, like a vision”, he finally said while still unable to rip his ruby eyes off you. “Give me a twirl, my love”, he then exclaimed and clapped his hands. You happily fulfilled his wish. In fact, you did one or two bonus rounds and kept laughing the whole time. You could feel the skirt fly around you. “On this exception I would have loved a mirror to take a quick peek at how I look”, you said as you stopped turning, your cheeks flushed.

The vampire softly grabbed your hands: “Oh, way ahead of you, Tav.” He made you turn to the far corner of your bedroom where you saw what must’ve been the big heavy package, he had brought home yesterday with all the other stuff.

“You bought a mirror?”, you asked and furrowed your brows. “I thought we did agree on no mirrors in our house.” “Surely, my sweet, and I appreciate the notion, but… I wanted you to be able to look at yourself!”, Astarion replied and strode over to the floor-length mirror he had thus far kept covered with a sheet.

“Voilà!”, he exclaimed as he dragged off the cloth and revealed your reflection in the mirror as he stood beside it. You were stunned as you looked at yourself.

Thankfully, you still recognised yourself. It was still you. But you looked regal and elegant. Unconsciously you straightened your back and lifted your chin up a little which made Astarion grin – he knew exactly that he’d done an incredible job.

You lifted your arms, watched as the trains of cloth flowed down beneath your elbows, you watched the skirts move swiftly as you turned. Safe to say you had probably never felt this beautiful in your life. Astarion beamed at you. “Come over here, sweetheart, take a closer look”, he encouraged you. Then he quickly leaned over the rim of the mirror. “Ah, sadly still nothing”, he quipped and then went off as you stepped closer and admired the details of the dress.

“I still feel bad about having a mirror now”, you shouted back at Astarion while you leaned to your reflection to admire the craftsmanship of the embroidery. “Oh, don’t be, love. I’m used to it by now and you’re only going to make me sappy”, he answered from somewhere from the other corner of the room.

You kept looking at yourself, not fully believing that this was really happening, when suddenly something was dangling in front of your face.

Astarion had snuck up on you – and of course – there had been no reflection in the mirror to spot his arrival. Now, a piece of jewellery was lowered onto you slowly.

“Really? Another gift, Astarion?”, you asked mockingly in anger. “Hush, this is the last one, now look!”, he scolded you as he closed the clasp at the back of your neck. Then he let his hands softly rest on your shoulders.

It was a necklace with a round and beautiful moonstone set in gold, though the colour of the stone matched nicely with the decorum on your dress. It sparkled softly in different colours where it perfectly sat at the dip of your collar bone – and a perfect centre piece for your neckline. You reached at it with your fingertips. It wasn’t even incredibly excessive or flamboyant, just very delicately beautiful. And you immediately knew you would wear it every day.

“You’ve become my sun, Tav”, Astarion spoke solemnly. Surprised by his sudden mood change you threw a quick glance over your shoulder. The vampire looked longingly at your mirror image. His red eyes were glistening with warmth and almost seemed like they were tearing up. He didn’t stop looking at you in the mirror.

“And then… you gave up the sun for me and became my moon as well. The light of my life.” His eyes lit up even more saying that. “If I only can make up for that a tiny bit by showering you with gifts, adoring and loving you every day of my immortal life and keeping you safe and happy, then I’ll happily provide you with that as long as I am able to.” His voice almost broke but his eyes were incredibly bright.

Your eyes welled up. You turned around and grabbed his hands off your shoulders, looking deeply into his eyes. “It’s not all me though. You changed my life, taught me that I was worth more”, you spoke, your voice barely coming out as more than a whisper. You pulled his hands to your chest as he leaned his forehead softly onto yours. You felt the tears coming and saw that his eyes were almost running over as well: “You’re the one that’s guiding me. You’re my stars, Astarion, my whole firmament!”

Tags: @aurasyn @margoteve @usuallyunlikelyfox @hollowmasque @worryknotdear

[cosmicanemoia]

Ms. Nobody

Melissa schemmenti x reader

SUMMARY

You show up at Abbott Elementary and stick your nose into everybody's business, and no one knows what you really do.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

You were walking down the hallway of Abbott Elementary looking for the principal's office, but you couldn't seem to find it. You were wearing a black and white, three piece pinstripe suit, looking like a stuck-up, but also, like a million bucks, you thought its suffocating.

A woman with a leather jacket paired with tight leather pants walks in your direction, as she gets closer from where you stand, you realise her hair is red, some of it tuck in a cat-eye-framed glasses.

You noticed she's fixated on her phone, so you block her way to make her notice you, she accidentally bumps into you, noticing you too late to stop on her tracks "Sorry, miss. Could you please point me in the direction of the principal's office?" She observed you with a stoic look on her face, you know she's trying to get a read on you "just follow me. I was going there anyway"

The walk to the Ava's office was filled with silence and when you got there, Ava checks you out and raises an eyebrow, she looks at the red haired woman "Damn! Schemmenti, thanks for bringing me a hot stripper. How'd you know I need to release some stress" miss Schemmenti made a dumbfounded face "wha--" she's trying to say something but you interrupted her "That's highly inappropriate" you said that left a silence in the room for a few seconds until you break it "That's highly inappropriate if I wasn't a stripper" both of the women's eyes widened by your revelation.

You started unbuttoning your blazer "but lucky for you I was" their jaw dropped at the sight "woah-- w-what the hell is going on?" Melissa earnestly asked looking around the room, confused by the act happening in the principal's office, you took your blazer off, throw it in a chair, and started unbuttoning your vest "I don't know-- but I'm liking every second of it" Ava replied, her eyes fixated on you. A smirk starts to form in your mouth, both women liking the scene more than they should, you took the vest off and throw it in with the blazer, you started to loosen your tie, you were holding back a laugh for quite some time but you couldn't hold it in anymore, so you burst out laughing, the two women bewildered "I'm just kidding!-- I'm not a stripper" you announce "what!?!" Ava and Melissa both shouted at the same time, their voice both frustrated and annoyed.

"Principal Coleman, I need to talk to you in private regarding classified topics" you took a seat in front of her. Ava gulped and clear her throat which Melissa mirrored "of course. Melissa, what do you need?" The principal asked the teacher "Uh- I forgot... I'll just come back later" Melissa walks out.

You've been there for a couple months now since that day. You've easily made friends with most of the teachers there. Janine always asks you questions but you rarely get to answer them because the topics sometimes change way too fast. Jacob jokes around you, talking nonstop, mostly dropping random facts about something not very well known but you already knew them so it fascinates him. Gregory asks you questions out of nowhere, he's quite and he listen but speaks his mind when he feel the need to do so, and you're just willing to listen. Barbara is always glad when you come to observe her class and is always kind to you. Ava unashamedly flirting with you everytime she can, you sometimes flirt back which makes her fluster and blush. Mr. Johnson telling you stories no one would bother to listen to or believe, but you always listen and you don't care if his stories are believable or not, they're still good stories nonetheless. Melissa scoffs at you when she sees you but it only lasted for a week, and she eventually warms up to you, but you know she still have some doubt and still don't fully trust you, you make her smile and you make her laugh everytime you can.

The teacher's are gathered in the teacher's lounge given that it's lunch time. They were chit chatting and catching up until the topic of their conversation became you.

"There's this mysterious woman who came from nowhere and people doesn't know what she really does here, where she came from, we only know she observes the school and do nothing else" Melissa stated making the other teachers question what are your true motives. They added and added so called facts and evidence of your actions trying to figure you out.

You made your way to the teacher's lounge with your hands in the pockets of your jacket, when you open the door and walk in, the room fell silent. You made your way to the vending machine "how is everybody?" You inquired but your met with silence still and you could feel the tension, you turn your back to check on them and when you do, all their eyes are shooting daggers at you. "What's going on?" You inquire once again, and once again your met with silence.

"You a cop?" Melissa ask you, breaking the silence. You slowly walk closer to her and you sigh "actually, I am." You pulled out a hand cuff out of your jacket, and everyone is stunned, "and Melissa Ann Schemmenti, you are under arrest for obstruction of justice, aiding and abetting, and harboring a criminal in your home" you started to handcuff her, she scoffs "That's ridiculous! I don't know what you're talking about" everyone is in complete shock. A smirk that has formed in your face since you handcuff her begins to become a grin, you tug softly at her shoulder and starts to walk, but halfway through the door you halted and speak again "but mostly for stealing my heart" you burst out laughing and it clicked to everyone what you just did, everyone is holding back their laughter, afraid of the redhead's wrath that you might have unleashed. Your laugh fades when you realise you're the only one laughing, it turned into an awkward chuckle "oookaayyyy. Tough crowd"

Melissa rolled her eyes "ha- ha- satisfied? Now get this off of me" she commanded. You started to search your pockets and nothing "Uh- I might have lost the key" you look at her with puppy eyes, "if this is another one of your jokes, I swear--" her sentence, unfinished, as you tug her and interrupt her "come, I have a copy hidden somewhere" you said as you lead her out the door. When you both are out of sight everyone sighed loudly releasing the breath they didn't know they were holding back.

While walking down the hallway Melissa ask you "so, you just carry around a handcuff with you?" "Who doesn't?" You answered like it's a totally normal thing to carry handcuffs around. She rolled her eyes again, tired of your antics, now clearly irritated, "what kind of idiot carries a handcuff and not have the keys?" You raise your two thumbs and started pointing it to yourself "this idiot, obviously. --Is it idiotic? Or is it part of my grand master plan to get you alone in a private room, with me?" You whispered the last part of your sentence in her ear in a seductive tone.

She's quite for a long time until she ask another question "where'd you put this key anyway? I feel like we've been walking in circles" you smiled and stop in front of her "we actually are" she stopped on her track and looks at you, furious, evident in her eyes.

You started to walk again and this time with the intention of getting the key. You knock at Ava's door and she tells you to come in. You walk in and Ava lifted her gaze from whatever she was doing on her laptop to you "Hey hottie" you shake your head unimpressed with her flirting "where's the key to your handcuffs?" Melissa burst in "This is Ava's handcuffs?!" She lifts and wave her hands "Yes. She gave it to me earlier to hold onto. And you presented an opportunity for it to be used-- so, here we are..." you answered her and she scoff "you won't see another light of day, when I get out of this freaking situation" you smiled at her, daring her to follow through her threat "Nobody carries a handcuff around unless they're actually a cop" you explain "or a stripper" ava added to the end of your sentence.

"Dear god give me patience or I might actually commit murder" Melissa closed her eyes and prayed, as Ava toss the keys to you, and you catch it. You walk over to Melissa to uncuff her as she glares and growls at you. When you finally freed her she massage her wrist and she fake pouncing on you which made Ava flinch, but you stand there unfazed.

Melissa walks out the room first. You drop the cuffs on Ava's table and walk out the office without saying a word.

You had an eventful evening, but today's school is over. You made your way outside the school through the parking lot.

Someone suddenly pulled you, then pushed you against the wall, it was Melissa who is out for blood, your blood. She has you pinned against the wall, you're not complaining, in fact, you actually like it, that position, but really, you just like her.

"Don't think I'll pity you because you're young and pretty. You don't know who you're messing with" she said and you cant help but blush "you think I'm pretty?-- I think you're pretty too, pretty and HOT!" You said emphasising the last word. You were looking eye to eye, faces inches away from each other, you let your eyes wander on her lips, and before both of you knew it, you were kissing her, but you suddenly pulled away when you realise she's not kissing back. She let go of you "first you handcuff me, call me hot, and now kisses me--- what the hell is wrong with you kid?" You look down at your feet ashamed of yourself but you look back gazing in her eyes "I'm not a kid.-- And there's nothing wrong with me.--- I'm just... just-- completely and utterly head over heels for you" you felt something hit the side of your face, you caress it with your hand, she had slapped you, you bit on your lower lip, your chest starting to tighten "don't mess with me like that" she said plainly "I'm no--" "Shut up" she said before you could explain yourself.

You just stood there in the cold as you watch her drive away. 'I really fucked this, shit!' You thought to yourself. You let out a loud sigh thinking how you screwed out really big.

The next day you went to school early, hoping you'd catch her and apologise for being such an asshole, but she didn't get in until before the class starts leaving no time for chit chats, especially with you.

Lunch came and you announce your presence when you walk in the teacher's lounge. You scan the room and you saw everyone is there. "I know you have question. I'm going to answer them truthfully and seriously" you said confidently and you sit on the couch.

Janine raises her hand and you raises your eyebrow at her signaling her to go for it "I actually forgot what to ask- I'm just eager to learn more about you" you nodded and you lean in the couch resting your elbows in your thighs "I know none of you know my name. That's OK. Ms. Nobody sounds good to me, but my name is y/l/n, y/n y/l/n.

"I have a question" Melissa speaks up "What is it you actually do here?" You think for a second "good question. *sighs* I help school that are about to be shut down by the government because the number of students doesn't meet the minimum quota for a public school to be open and for the lack of teachers teaching at the said school or schools that are barely making do"

"We're about to be shut down?" Janine asked to no one, and the teachers starts to converse among themselves, everyone of them shocked by the revelation.

A few minutes later "all teachers please proceed to the library after class we're having an unplanned meeting" Ava said to the intercom.

Someone is about to ask you question but the bell rang and they all dispersed, saddened by the news you told them. You rest your back on the sofa sighing with relief that you don't have to carry that secret anymore.

They went on to their classes pushing the news to the back of of their minds and went teaching like they always do.

The class are over and after the teachers tidy up and finish some things before they head to the library. There are a lot of them when you got there so you didn't bother to sit, you just stood and lean against the bookshelf trusting that if it can hold that many books, it can hold you as well.

Everyone is settled in the library. "I know y/n, has break the news to you. But we are not going to be shut down" Everyone simultaneously lets out a sigh of relief.

Melissa turns her head to look at you "you think everything is a joke, don't you? K--" "No. Of course not." You interrupted her before she finish.

"Everyone listen up. Let me rephrase my beautiful self. We are not going to be shut down because of y/n, and as long as she's here, we'll be okay" Ava collects her things and starts to walk away "Is that all? Are we finished?" Janine ask the principal "Janine, why'd you always gotta be so needy?" She scoffs and continues on her way.

You walk over to where Melissa and Barbara are sitting. "Hi Barbs" you greeted her with a pleasant smile and she replied "thanks for helping the school dear" you smile at her more before you turn your attention to Melissa "Hey, hot stuff. Can I talk to you?" "What'd you wanna talk about?" She ask and Barbara excuse herself so you sat next to her.

You are now alone together in the library. "I just wanted to say sorry for the handcuffs thing, and for stealing a kiss from you" she's just sat there quietly "also, I really mean what I said that night" "what? That I'm hot?" She ask still not looking at you, you look down on your knees and smile to yourself "yeah. That too" You grabbed her hand that is resting on her thighs and rest it on yours instead while you held it "I know you think I'm just messing with you. And I can see why you think that. But, I'm not. I'm being serious and I really mean it.-- please, look at me" you requested and she obliged "I'm in love with you" she just stares at you for a moment and then look away, her hand still held by yours.

You close your eyes and smile but you feel defeated. You let go of her hands and stand up. "I'm sorry" she said right before you walk away so you turn on your back to face her "what?" she's quite for a minute contemplating something "I'm sorry for slapping you" she said and you smiled to her "it's okay. I deserved it.-- and I kinda like it" you said and you wink at her "of course you do" she smiles more wide than usual, she's amused.

She stands up and walks up to you closing the space you made when you walk out, she reach on your fore arms and rub it gently, trying to warm you up. "You're getting cold" she said to you but you know you're hot on the inside caused by the woman's touch "And, no. You didn't deserve it" she said and she starts to let go of you but you pulled her into a hug "it's okay. I know you didn't mean it" you said as you hug her tighter.

You let yourself loosen the embrace but you feel hers tighten, not yet ready to let go, so you tighten your arms around her once more, waiting for her to be ready to let go.

You hugged for more than a couple of minutes until she finally let go, you smiled at each other, saying goodbye with your eyes knowing that you'll meet again soon.

After you've taken a few step away from her she shouted "come over for dinner at my house, let me apologise properly" you look at her with a grin "if you wanted to ask me out for a date, you could've just said so" "and there it is" she gesture with her hands showcasing you and you curtsied at her before you went on your merry way.

You knock and rang on Melissa's door and she opens them right away, inviting you in. Your eyes fixated on her, she looks so comfortable and it warms you, secretly hoping she would be comfortable with you too.

You watch her as you sit on the kitchen counter while she cooks making light conversations.

Her homecooked meal taste so good, you're saying "mmmhh" and nod your head at the same time every time you take a bite. She looks contented and proud of herself.

You were quite for a moment so she ask you "What are you thinking?" You look at her with a wide grin "you don't wanna know" you tease "just tell me" she commanded and you quickly abide "I'm just thinking that my grand master plan actually works. Even better than I'd imagine. Now, I'm eating delicious home cooked meal at your house with a beautiful view right in front of me"

She pulls you in for a kiss, a passionate kiss, which you return with the same desperation she had. You both pulled away at the same time, gasping for air, and catching your breath "I'm just taking back the kiss you stole from me" she said trying to defend her action, you smiled at her "How long have you been wanting to do that?" "Way too long, apparently" she replied and you both burst out laughing.

The night is going great and maybe it will get greater. You don't know where this night might lead you, but you don't care, as long as she's with you, every step of the way.

[wr1t3w1tm3]

I wanted to add another little bit about clothing and characters of PotC.

I don't think it's a coincidence that of all the characters, only Jack Sparrows costume has remained relatively unchanged. Of all the characters, he's changed the least.

But looking at Elizabeth in the picture above, on the right, we see that her outfit has changed quiet a lot from her first (adult) appearance in CotBP (below).

In CotBP, she is obviously wearing a dress with a corset, but we see she is wearing a white dress with yellow accents. Her final outfit from At World's End (outside of the end credit scene, which doesn't count) is black with gold/yellow accents. Earlier in AWE, we see her in all black, and even briefly in the scene where Soa Feng puts her in the more ornamental robes, those are dark colors. My point here is that as Elizabeth's story progresses, she dresses in darker colors. It happens in every movie.

In CotBP she goes from the white with gold to a sort of mauve-y red (IDK I don't know my colors that well) to that bright red coat on Isla De Muerta. And at the end, during the execution sequence, she's in that other yellow dress (see below). And even when she's in her underthings, they're white. Which we only see her in when she's surrounded by Norrington and his soldiers. When she's back where society would deem her "place". When she's aboard a pirate vessel, where she can be truer to herself, she's in darker colors. Around society, she has an image to upkeep, so she wears the lighter colors, using them as a shield.

And I can't forget pants. Elizabeth wearing pants near the end of the movie really drives home just how much she's changed in these movies. Here she's wearing arguably the least amount of clothes she's worn during the entire movie (even her underclothes are several layers of full-length dress like stuff). Even Anamaria, the only other significant female character in CotBP wears pants. They show the freedom these women have as pirates. This same point can be made when she eventually ends up in soley pants through the mid part of DMC to the end of AWE, except for the brief moment she's in a dress while imprisoned by Soa Feng, which I feel only strengthens my point.

Now, let's look at Will in the above (left) picture. He's in what I like to call his "Muskateer Get Up" - he's wearing the more billowy, formal shirt, a brown vest with double crossed belts, a red cape, brown pants and that garish hat. Will's outfits in CotBP are much less about color and more about appearance. In the picture above from Will's first adult appearance, he is pictured wearing a full, formal suit with tie, coat, and everything. As the movie progresses and he gets closer and closer to Elizabeth, he loses more pieces of that suit.

By the end of CotBP, Will is left with just his vest, trousers, and undershirt from the original ensemble.

Him putting on the more colorful ensemble at the end to free Jack is symbolic of him accepting his true identity (son of a pirate) and allow his experiences to change him.

I wanna talk about hair here for a second. Elizabeth and Will both get hair used as a symbol as well. For Will, his is kept up until approx. his capture in CotBP by Barbossa. Once he's finally in the thick of it, and once again when he's accepted the results of his actions, it's down (in the opening shot with Governor Swann we can see his hair is kept back in a ponytail). The same can be said for Elizabeth: during the scenes where she is wearing her lighter clothes, where society is expecting something of her, her hair is kept up. When she goes out to Barbossa's ship, and basically up until she's back in her stuffy societal position, her hair is down. Now, it's not practical, but it is symbolic (I still don't give it a pass. That is a crime honey. I have to put my hair back to walk to class when it's windy, put your damn hair up on the high seas dammit!).

Back to clothes: we really get to see this change in Elizabeth and Will's characters and their clothing best in DMC and AWE.

We can see here that Elizabeth is once again in yellow, and her hair is done in a half up, half down style. Her yellow is once again a symbol of her being in a societally "acceptable" position (the same can be said for Will, more on that in a moment), however her hair can be seen as a sort of "sticking it to the man", since, as we've established, Elizabeth's hair is down when she is getting a taste of freedom. Marrying Will is an act of freedom for her, since she's not been forced to marry Norrington. With Will, we get a special blend of symbolism. He too is wearing yellow, which can be seen as symbolic of him doing a "societally deemed chill" thing: getting married. However, his is surrounded by the much darker blue, which as I will establish momentarily, is a symbol of him straying further towards piracy and away from society. This is also the fanciest get up we see him in: he looks like a soldier and has the same tricorn hat we know Jack wears. As far as his hair, it's up in a ponytail. So, we know that Will is in a societally acceptable position, but just like Elizabeth, his scuffle with pirates previously has changed him. However, unlike Elizabeth, he's not really acknowledging that in public, hence the ponytail.

Just like with CotBP, DMC gives us similar outfit evolutions with Will and Elizabeth, but with some minor changes. Will still ends up stripping down to the most basic components of his suit by the end (though this time he doesn't get a final outfit change, though it appears he gets it at the beginning as he doesn't seem to be in the full wedding suit when he leaves Port Royal) and Elizabeth ends up in pants and a red shirt once more. Both have their hair down as they return to piracy, again a symbol of their freedom or even just comfort level away from society. Elizabeth is back in pants again, relatively free (despite the whole Davy Jones situation). The only major hair change to note is that when she's on Tortuga, Elizabeth keeps her hair up and very short looking. Even if this is a temporary change, it's the first time we really see her acting like a pirate. Even stowing over to Tortuga she'd kept to the shadows and been witty about her interactions with the crew. This shorter hair can be taken to symbolize a new start (even if, again, it's only temporary).

What I want to note here is the colors used. Both end up wearing significantly darker colors by the end of the film. Even their yellow and blue at the beginning of the film are the darkest we've seen outside of the blue navy coats, but I'd personally argue that Will's coat is darker than the EICo's blue. Elizabeth's dress is a darker yellow, and as the movie progresses, they end up in darker and darker colors. Both end in grungy, dirty clothes too, in contrast with the previous film. Will is in greyer tinted, dingy stuff, and Elizabeth is wearing maroon and a brown darker than Will's from CotBP.

Also, I'm putting a quick pin in Elizabeth's maroon from DMC for Will's fit in AWE. We already saw Will wearing yellow for the first time in DMC when Elizabeth so prominently wore the color in CotBP, so him wearing maroon in AWE after Elizabeth wore it prominently in DMC cannot be a coincidence. I think it's probably a very literal symbol, in that she is really starting to rub off on Will.

Now let's jump to AWE. Elizabeth is featured initially in all black (minus the hat and poncho which are quickly discarded). Will's outfit also appears this way due to the water he's been soaked in, although we soon learn that it's black with the maroon shirt. Everyone's in mostly dark clothes, as this is a dark hour for pirates. Also here, Will's hair is undone, and Elizabeth's is in a tight braid. Again, Elizabeth is in a more "acceptable" position, but this doesn't last long. It's down again once they hit Davy Jones locker. Will's hair, however, stays back almost the entire movie, beginning with their search for the locker (See below).

As I mentioned before, the dark clothes are a pretty standard symbol for dark times. Just about everyone in this movie is wearing dark clothes. The maroon on Will still shows how Elizabeth has rubbed off on him, but his hair back shows us he isn't as free as he could be, how he's trying to hide the effect of his experiences on the Flying Dutchman from everyone. He's weighed down between his options: Elizabeth and his father. We learn pretty quickly into the movie that he's gonna have to choose, and he doesn't want too.

Once again, as mentioned above, Elizabeth is the one who gets an outfit change for this movie. First, she ends up in the red and blue ensemble from Soa Feng. Red is a color we've seen her in before, one we know she's comfortable in. Blue is one we haven't seen her in, so we can see how she sort of feels during this scene through these colors. At first, she's ill at ease, but once Soa Feng reveals his cards, she gets him hook, line, and sinker. She's in control. She's cool, she knows what she's doing.

When Elizabeth rolls up to the pirate council in the black and gold threads from Soa Feng, she also has her hair up (not many pictures of that, unfortunately). And while, yes, that does mean she's in an "acceptable position", I think here its more that she's in a position she's prepared for. She's the governor's daughter, so a position of power is something she theoretically should have in the bag. And we see she does because she becomes Pirate King pretty quick. Again, it's a dark hour, but that gold really ties her character back to when she was firmly the governor's daughter: when she only wore yellow. Something I didn't mention above is that Elizabeth really only wears yellow in the presence of her father, the governor. And again, really only while he's the real power. By the time he loses that to Cutler Beckett, she's in maroon and brown. The colors symbolize that while this is the pirate's darkest hour, Elizabeth is prepared for this. She can lead them. And her hair, once again down, represents that she is free here, even in the face of impending doom (same with her pants). She is a real pirate, and she's ready to fight for their freedom (even if I would HIGHLY recommend tying your damn hair back, girl!).

Let's look at Will now. In AWE, he's got some pretty static character stuff, but that's okay, because he got a lot of that in DMC. His most major outfit is the switch from a black vest during the locker sequences to a black coat when Jack throws him overboard and lets him get captured. He's still got a crossed belt, which has become a staple, and we get a little pop of color from his sash/gun belt thing. Which, funnily enough, looks to be predominantly brown, red, and gold.

So as far as colors, we again get the darkest hour bit, although for Will his is more of a darkest hour because he's going to soon be forced to choose between his dad and his (I'm assuming) fiancé. The maroon shows that Will and Elizabeth are still connected, she's still rubbing off on him despite their coolness during this movie. The steaks of color in his belt help us really see where he came from too, red from AWE, the gold again from Elizabeth, and the brown calling all the way back to CotBP.

Will's final costume change comes once he's sort of forced into the captainship of the Flying Dutchman. He's still wearing the black coat and maroon shirt, with the black crossed belt, but there's two major changes: the bandanna and his hair. The hair I'll harp on real quick because it's down. And as far as we've discussed, that mean he's more himself, that he's allowing the world to see just how much he's been changed by the circumstances around him. Like Calypso says, Will has a "touch 'a destiny", and as far as we can tell, this is quite literally where he is meant to be (for the 2007 crowd this was assumed to be in perpetuity as well). This is like, literally the 2nd or 2 times his hair is down in this movie. Do I like that all the symbols are pointing to him being here on purpose? fuck no. But it gives me that kind-of-icky-kind-of-not pit on my stomach that tells me this is a narratively satisfying conclusion.

Turning to the bandana, this is something we've never seen his character wear, ever, in the entire franchise. The only other prominent characters we see wear bandannas are those who do so under hats: Jack and Barbossa. And both of them are captains. So, the bandana not only signifies the magic-girl-transformation(TM)that Will undergoes after getting his heart carved out by (assumedly) his own father; but it also symbolizes his new role in life: captain of the Flying Dutchman. Its color tells us something too, the same as his clothes. The maroon symbolizes how Elizabeth has worn off on him, and the black shows us that when he became captain, it was a dark time. But the bandanna, that baby is green. What can that symbolize? Well, do me a favor and scroll back up to Will and Elizabeth's wedding outfits from DMC. What colors are they wearing? Yellow and Blue? I sure hope so. What color does yellow + blue = ? Green. Will's bandana symbolizes not only his new station in life, but also the entwinement of his and Elizabeths' destinies, now for all eternity. That's why even though Norrington ended up in gold and blue, like Will, he never got any green, he says it himself: "Our destinies were entwined, but never joined" (I paraphrase).

So, in conclusion, the wardrobe department for this trilogy slaps, the writers were great, Gore Verbisnky is a legend, and I just spent over a literal hour over analyzing the clothing on two fictional pirates in a Disney movie franchise based on a ride.

I love how I said this was gonna be little. Thanks for coming to my TedTalk ya'll. Felt like pictures might do us some good this time and break up the giant walls of text. This has been fun to put together, and I may do an analysis of other characters later, but IDK. I'm trying to outline a new WIP so... we'll see how long that one lasts. I may do an analysis of the costumes from five as they pertain to the original trilogy, but I don't know yet (for reference, I personally don't consider 4 as a main line story. It's like Rogue One is to the Original Star Wars trilogy, it explains a couple plot points for the next movie, but it's not a necessary watch).