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neowinestainedress · 7 months

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between us — johnny suh

title: between us

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

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

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

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

visuals

wc: 16.590k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I… I…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” He asks, brows raising.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wh-why do you care?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hum, biting the inside of your cheek.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Us?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It doesn’t work.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s you.

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

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

It’s only you and them.

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

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

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

Attention.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or so you think.

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

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

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

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

Yet, you can’t let it go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Looking for something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They snicker.

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

“Uhm, no…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, want to have fun with us?”

“Yeah…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Too much,” you cry out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Easily. If that was nothing to her…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But I —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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maykenin · 8 months

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this lovin' i have for you, it'll never change

title inspo age ain't nothing but a number by aaliyah

18+ MDNI. (perverted) dbf!leon x afab!reader, age gap (reader is 21+ leon is 38), cunnilingus, deepthroating, choking/gagging, semi public sex, dirty talking, praising, reader has a father // wc;1.3k tags: @kennedyswhore (this was a reupload btw hehehe)

a/n: YEOWCH this whole thing has been eating my brain so either enjoy or watch as my parental issues worsen. btw this isn't proofread NOR has it been beta'd so enjoy the work i create out of sleep deprivation.

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You were at a bar nearby for your dad's daily work discussions— or whatever they were. For the boredom of it, you understood why they'd hold such meetings in places suited to give them a sense of boost in attitude, simply put, coping for the long, tedious hours.

You were bored out of your brains, not even in the mood to drink so you'd just stroll around the bar hoping to find some form of entertainment. Darkness overtakes the room, a gold light in each corner guiding you through each creaking tile.

Your eyes immediately turned to the pool table, you felt more confident than any other time, to know that the bar wasn't as crowded as you'd typically expect it to be. 'Why not go for a round?' You let the question linger before you grabbed a cue stick leaning against the mosaic tiles.

Preparations were done, you had yourself set behind the balk, arching around the edge of the table like a cat, you shut an eye to sharpen your precision, "Here, you have to pinch your thumb against your hands." A familiar voice hit your ears.

Slowly, you turned your head around to find Leon, his eyes were focused on the cue ball, his hand wrapped on top of yours, body pitted against yours before he let the stick hit it, strike. "Good girl, knew you were a fast learner." He coaxed, ruffling your hair, almost leaving it a nest-like mess. "Mr Kennedy— I didn't know you were here!" You replied shyly, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. "Came here on my own, aren't you too young to even be here?" He raised an eyebrow, handing the cue stick right back to you.

"Dad's right there, he's busy with whatever," You rolled your eyes playfully upon turning your head back at your dad, who'd been oblivious to Leon's presence. "Same as ever." Leon chuckled to himself, head faced down before his eyes pierced yours.

"Up for a new round? Or do you wanna.. finish this up?" He asked, finger circling around the billiard table, indicating to pick up where you left off. "Practice round, how's that sound?" He asked, a faint smirk painted on his face. "Yeah, yeah. Let's do that." You nodded in regards to his proposal.

"So you know to hold it like that.." He mumbled, body encasing you as his hand tugged on yours, letting him arch over you, letting himself feel you. A part of you didn't want to let this minute crush intensify and worsen what little feelings you've had for him. He's your dad's friend, for fuck's sake. You shouldn't even have your mind reeling over this. You shook your head lightly to shake the feeling off, focusing on the game. But how could you? When someone this fucking hot is right behind you, guiding you. Praising you. Strike. "What a smart girl you are, I might have to reward you for this later." He winked before heading back to his table for a brief moment, gulping his beer down, you observed as his adam's apple bobbing over the drink, watching intently as a drop of beer fell past his chiseled jaw, sharp enough to cut, followed with his stubble trailing past his neckline.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Bending you over the sink, he whispers into your ear. "Your reward for winning earlier, and mine for teaching you." He grinned against your cheek, you could read onto it despite shutting your eyes closed. Gripping onto the shallow porcelain well was your only task.

Now that you know you have even scores to settle out, Leon starts, hands gliding under your skirt before the index and middle wandered through the now wet gusset of your panties. "Christ, didn't even do anything." He muttered under his breath. "Don't worry, 'm gonna take good care of you." Both pads of his fingers ran through your clothed cunt, rubbing it up and down before tugging onto your underwear. Unbothered and horny, Leon just let your panties sit on the side of your swollen cunt, throbbing and aching 'specially for Leon.

"Just gotta let me do all the work, 'kay?" He mumbled into your ear, a hand on your ass, dropping down to your cunt, stretching your pussy lips with his thumb. Getting on one knee, his tongue broad as he licked a long strip against your slick covered folds, darting his tongue in you, thrusting repeatedly as you struggled to hold yourself together. "Love tonguefucking this sweet pussy," He chuckled against your cunt before sucking your clit, tongue swirling routinely. Before you knew it, your orgasm came crashing. Your body was out of your own control, a hand tugging on his scalp, pulling him closer and closer in until you couldn't feel yourself. Moans and whimpers soft as you'd attempt to stifle them by burying your face deep into your forearm before briefly letting go.

It wasn't long before your body was craving Leon again, you'd long forgotten about why you were even here in the first place. "We don't have all day, sweetheart, 'fraid daddy might come in here looking for ya'." His words drove you to drop to your knees, hands lazily finding his zipper, undoing it before both hands pinched either side of both his jeans and boxers, letting it drop to his ankles.

You marveled at the sight that was Leon's cock, throbbing and engorged, waiting for you eagerly. Slowly, you pull the foreskin back, your tongue circled around his slit, laced with precum; taking him in gradually. Tutting, he mutters to himself, "This won't do," intertwining his fingers around your hair, thrusting you in with force, back and forth while you choke and gag over his size, eyes bulging as tears ran past your lashline. "Such a tight throat for me too," He groaned, "Gonna keep training this throatpussy, get her to take it over and over, even if she can't." He sputtered before a loud moan overtakes his words. "Oh, fuck, fuck, take it," He growls, pulling you in, nose against his pubes, filling your throat full of his cum, sticky and hot against your insides, he pulls back after a while. "Open." He instructs, you comply hesitantly, mouth agape, filled with his mess. You decide to fuck around, pouting your lips as you spit some of his cum out, letting it bubble around your lips, a sight straight out a porno at best. "Swallow." He concludes by pulling his hand away from your now tangled hair. You do as you're told, looking into him your messy state was rather enticing. It's been far too long since he's done something like this, with someone like you. "Clever girl, always attentive, obedient. Can't wait to find you again, fuck you like this, even if your daddy's here— can't resist a tight girl like you, makes me wonder if your pussy's just as tight." He muses. You're supposed to find his words wrong, but if anything; it just gets you all the more wet, you kept quiet rather than let your mind speak. "You'd let me do that, wouldn't you? Oh, sure you would; you were made for me to fuck." He snickers.

"Would love to fuck you, really would, but I wouldn't wanna wear my little girl down now, would I?" He murmurs, arms crossed as he leaned against the cramped bathroom walls, watching you fix yourself from the mirror. "Wanna taste those sweet tits too, bet those nipples are hard," He teases, his words weren't exactly false, too. "Mr Kennedy!" You yelped softly, "Don't mind me, sweetheart, there's only so much I can say about such a sweet thing like you." He replies, rubbing his hand across his stubble back and forth.

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You were absolutely afraid, hoping your dad hadn't run around looking for you, or even worse, left thinking you hitched a ride back home. Leon assures you just from the look on his face, pushing the bathroom door open before slowly walking out as if you were in a horror movie, you took a sharp right only to find your dad, still in chatterbox mode with his friends. "Still up for round two? I always have my mind set on things," He grins, watching the dumbfounded look on your face as you'd been worrying over nothing.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy headcanons #resident evil x reader #leon smut #dbf!leon #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon s kennedy smut

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lawsvalentine · 1 year

Text

Rock The Boat • Zoro x Fem!reader • (18+)

CW: smut (size kink, riding,rough sex, mating press, overstimulation, soft!dom zoro, dirty talk, dumbification, bed breaking, creampie), pussydrunk!zoro, dickmatized!reader

Cee’s note: head bonk empty other than the thought of Zoro’s huge dick (and yes this title was 100% inspired by the Aaliyah song)

Happy birthday to @roronoaswifey 🥳, hope you enjoy pookie

*MDNI*

“Take your time baby”

You were currently hovering over his waist, mentally preparing yourself for his length. Zoro was definitely bigger than what you were used to. With some prior prep from his fingers stretching you out, you felt ready to take his cock.

With both your hands resting on his scarred chest for support, you slowly lowered yourself onto his tip. You gasped, eyes scrunching as you felt the stretch against your walls as you sank down. You managed to get a little more than the tip in, before pausing to adjust to his size.

“You got this, babe, taking me in so well” Zoro encourages as he caresses both your arms gently.

His encouraging words helped you sink down lower, taking more of him in. Tears pricked your eyes at the sting between your legs. Your pussy was clenching around him so nice and tight, Zoro had to restrain himself from thrusting up into you.

When the pain started to subside, you started to move your hips slowly up and down as pleasure started to take over. Zoro grunts and throws his head back, as you start to bounce on top of him.

“Mmm Zoro, you’re so big” , you moan as you took him in deeper with every bounce.

Praises were spilling from Zoro’s mouth saying how well you were taking him and how good you felt. He brought his hands to your ass, grasping at the fatty flesh as he guides your hips to grind against him. You moan, feeling the pleasure as you continued to grind against his pelvis.

“F-Fuck I’m gonna…ah!”

Your eyes rolled back as you came all over his cock, glazing it with your arousal. You flutter around his dick as you rode out your orgasm. Zoro’s head was spinning at the overwhelming pleasure. He needed more.

You yelp as you felt Zoro flip you down against the bed, him now on top of you. He grabbed both your legs, and pressed them against your chest as he started to thrust into you at a rapid pace.

Your eye’s glossed with tears from the overstimulation you were feeling, drool pooling at the side of your mouth as you whimper every time his hips snapped into you. Zoro smirks at the sight of you.

“Have I fucked you dumb already, we were just getting started.”

You couldn’t even respond, knowing nothing coherent would come out your mouth. All you could do was clutch at the bed sheets, taking everything he’s got. He was hitting so deep and fast, you were completely entranced, only thoughts being how good he felt abusing your cunt.

Zoro was just as pussy drunk, completely consumed in how amazing you felt. You were so wet and tight, he couldn’t get enough of you. You looked so pretty like this to him. Face fucked out and the sounds you were making was driving him crazy.

With the way he was fucking you it felt like the entire ship was rocking. Both of you were too lost in each other to realize how loud you two were being, both your moans and his grunts mixing with the harsh bangs of the bed frame against the wall and the slight creaks coming from the bed stand.

With a few more thrust the bed stand finally gave out, and with a loud crash, it completely snapped. You let out a squeal as you two slide down the bed. This didn’t stop Zoro though as he held you in place and continued fucking into, the new angle helping him to reach deeper into you.

Your vision went blurry as you came for the second time that night, legs shaking as a stream of moans spilled from your mouth. Zoro came right behind you, snapping into you a few more times, riding out his orgasm.

He buried his face in your neck, both of your chest rising and falling as you both try to catch your breaths. He finally pulled out and rolled beside you on the now slanted bed.

You both finally came to your senses, realizing the current state of the bed. You both share a look before bursting out laughing. This was going to be very awkward to explain to Franky.

#one piece smut #op smut #one piece fanfiction #op fanfic #roronoa zoro smut #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #zoro smut #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you

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abibliophobiaa · 11 months

Note

For the Steve prompt - Whisper

rock the boat

18+, and yea inspired by those pics. forbidden romance (kind of); reader is argyle’s step-sibling; slight voyeurism; unprotected p-in-v intercourse. thank you @loveshotzz for giving this a look-see and also always encouraging my unexpected steve ideas. steve harrington x afab!reader. music insp: rock the boat — aaliyah. (4.2k words)

The grounds were set early on and were simple enough: no dating within the party. The ‘rules’ created by your own step-brother, Argyle, who insisted it was for your benefit and protection when Vecna had finally been vanquished and you both moved to Hawkins to be closer to your new found family, and life returned to some semblance of normal.

Which you’d understood—at first.

But no one, and nothing, would have ever prepared you for Steve Harrington. Impossibly handsome with those dark eyes and his perfectly imperfect head of hair, ridiculously charming, and the kind of humorous personality that had your sides shaking and cheeks hurting long after he’d dropped you back off at your shared apartment on the nights you spent together.

The intention hadn’t been to fall into a forbidden romance, and yet you had. It was easy, really. He’d become friends with Eddie, who had then become friends with Argyle and Jonathan who occupied your apartment often. They’d smoke and drink together, laughing over their silly stories and inside jokes, while you snuck glances at the boy.

He noticed quickly. Caught your gaze where you stood in the hallway, in the shelter of shadows within your home, from the armchair you often dropped into on nights Argyle invited you to partake.

Soon enough those imploring stares shifted into more. Turned into gentle touches in the kitchen when he’d offer to grab beers for the guys. A whisper of an almost-kiss against your bedroom doorway at the end of the night, always seemingly interrupted by one of your friends. The glide of your fingers at the nape of his neck while the boys watched a movie and you went to work for the afternoon.

It persisted for months, until one afternoon he worked up the nerve to ask you out properly. You met him in the parking lot after his shift, he tossed your bike in the back of his trunk, and took you to a drive-in after picking up some smoothies from the local diner. You made it approximately five minutes before you’d babbled that you really liked him, and he made it another two before he curled his hand around your cheek and kissed you until your thoughts screamed his name, until every other boy who came before him evaporated into nothingness within your mind.

After that it was months of whispered affection. It was running out of your apartment after Argyle had passed out for a nap, clambering over the center console, and curling your fingers in your boyfriend’s hair. It was riding him in the back seat of his car, your thighs on either side of his hips, gasping as he rolled up into you, urging you onward, his voice singing your praises. It was rushing up the stairs to his parent’s home while they’d gone on another business trip and tumbling into his bed, your underwear on his floor and his mouth hot against your cunt. It was confessions of ‘we shouldn’t be doing this,’ and yet never stopping, because soon they became hushed ‘you’re mines’ and earth-shattering ‘I love yous.’

Yet no one knew. It was your secret, forged in the darkness, and kept close to your heart. A relationship that meant the world to you. But you kept it hidden for so long that it seemed easier than to tell the truth—to not shake the very foundations of the friendships of “The Party” presently seated about the boat you all were perched on.

The same boat Argyle had purchased with the hush money funded by the government after everything that occurred with Vecna. You suggested he do something practical with it, and he insisted bringing a little bit of California to their life in Hawkins made sense. So he docked it at his family home in California, and pretty much demanded that the adults make a road trip.

The weekend away had been…frustrating to put it lightly. The house you all rented on the beach held so few bedrooms, and though you wanted to slip into Steve’s, you couldn’t because he had been pushed into sharing with Eddie. Your step-brother’s brilliant doing. Argyle himself shared with Jonathan, which left the girls to share the largest room.

Which also meant an endless cock-block for the duration of the whole weekend getaway.

The first night you’d cracked the door just the slightest and Eddie had shot up like he’d seen a ghost to launch a pillow at your head. Barked your name so loud you threw yourself onto his bed and clapped a hand over his mouth. Those dark eyes shifted to your face, then darted to Steve’s and he knew. When you’d pulled back, a newfound glint was there, as well as an endless well of blackmail you’d never recover from.

“You two,” he said, dragging his finger along the space between the two of you. “Would be dead if your brother found out. How long has this been going on?”

“Six months,” Steve said, eyes trained on the floor. You tossed a pillow at his head for telling Eddie. Traitor.

“Six months?!” You clapped your hand over his mouth once more, earning a quick thwack to the inside of your wrist. “Wait—you came in here…to hook up, didn’t you? While I was sleeping?!”

"Don't act like you've never snuck around with anyone," you hissed. "I saw you slip away at the bar last night with that girl. Where'd you go off to?"

"That's none of your business. Plus she wasn't a party member. You are," he grumbled, rolling over and knocking you onto the floor in a heap. Steve's arms reached out to grab at you but you shoved free, glowering at the metalhead. "You two need to tell him before he catches one of you with your pants down, just saying."

Not gonna happen, you thought.

Though you often dreamed of coming clean, of being out in the open, of loving Steve in the light. And you knew he wanted the same. But every time you opened your mouth to tell your step-brother, every time the words formed on your lips, you pictured his disappointment and you tampered it away.

Filed it away for another day, for a maybe, or a never.

Sunlight gleamed over the water's surface. Bright and crystalline, staring up at you mockingly as waves crashed against the boat's exterior. Before you, Eddie glanced on with a smirk, poised at you where you sat beside Steve.

Everything about the boat ride was loathsome. Steve’s hip barely brushed yours and your fingers itched to reach out and touch him. To curl around Steve's palm and put an end to the sneaking, hiding, and endless lies. To put an end to the sneaking in after dark, the telling your step-brother you'd merely been working extra hours, to having to watch as the guys all lingered in your living room and wait until Argyle later slipped into his bedroom when they'd all left to let Steve back in. If only so he could crawl into your bed and your arms.

All around you, friends talked about their day. Lived normally, without harboring secrets—no deceit to plague their consciences. Conversed about the happenings of their lives, snacked on bags of chips with colorful labels on the fronts, sunglasses glinting in the daylight. Robin laughed in the distance at something Nancy had said, and Jonathan snapped photo after photo of the skyline, the group, the captain at the head of the boat commandeering the whole thing. He'd had his sights set on the restaurant appearing before you now. Close enough that you could see it, smell the barbecue food cooking, hear the chatter of patrons at the bar, their jovial laughter.

At least some people are having fun, you thought, glancing up at the sky as a particularly strong thump against the boat sent you careening into Steve's lap.

"Sorry about that, my dudes. Still a little rusty," Argyle shouted over the water, head turning over his shoulder to where you were sprawled over his best friend's thighs. "Are you two okay back there?"

"Just fell!" You shouted back, hating the way you pulled back quickly from Steve like he'd burned you. Because he never had, never would.

'Tell him,' Eddie mouthed when Argyle pointed his attention back ahead, eyes narrowed at the both of you. But you only ignored him. Instead you focused your attention on sea-foam and the dock appearing on the water's edge. On quieting the thump thump of your heart in your chest, dulling the desire roiling in your gut, and the frustration over the fear you harbored that could also very well free you if only you'd will yourself to just do it once and for all.

Some time later, after Argyle docked the boat, you leaned up and brushed your lips over Steve's ear. A soft and whispered, "Pretend you're feeling seasick. Trust me."

It was enough for Steve. He needed no further convincing and splayed a palm over his abdomen, leaning over the back of the boat like one would should they need to expel the contents of their stomach. Your hand came up and rested sympathetically against his shoulders, eyes rounded in worry as everyone around you peered over to inspect the scene.

“Are you okay, honey?” Robin asked, her palm curling over Steve’s neck, just above your own.

“‘M okay. Just need a minute,” he moaned, lowering his head further to hide his face. “Go on ahead, I’ll catch you all later.”

“Hey Arg?” Your voice raised high above the other worried prattling around you. His eyes darted your way, nodding. “I’ll stay with him.”

“Right…” he said, voice trailing. “You practically grew up on boats. Makes sense. Alright dudes, we’ll grab a table; you two meet up with us whenever Harrington’s done expelling his breakfast.”

“Missed you,” you whimpered against the column of his throat.

Alone at last, you licked a long stripe against the curve of his neck, nipping and sucking. Paid attention to the birth marks you knew were one below the other, teeth grazing delicate flesh, jolting beneath your affections as you went. Steve was all coconut sunscreen lathered skin against his golden skin and broad arms wrapped around your lower back. Fingers that eventually drifted further and clutched at the dough of your ass, confined in the jean shorts hiked high on your thighs where you now sat, thighs draped on either side of his hips.

“Yeah, baby?”

He rasped the words in the shell of your ear, his cheek pressed to yours, rocking you against his jean-clad lap. Made sure you could feel him and the hardness that kicked up in his jeans when you ground down just right over him.

“Touched myself to the thought of you in bed last night,” you admitted.

Heat pooled in your chest, and downward. The bikini you wore beneath your jean shorts was already embarrassingly slick with your arousal.

“Honey, with the girls around?”

His smirk indicated he liked it. Very much so. Practically purred the words, nosing along your collarbones, pressing kiss after kiss into your skin.

You hummed idly. Combed your fingers through his long tresses. “Waited till they were asleep.”

“Missed me that much?” Teeth grazed an earlobe and released it with a pop, a shudder wracking throughout your body.

“Uhuh.” A pinched whine fell as you rocked against his lap, relishing in the heat of him straining through the confines of his jeans, wanting to be freed.

“What did you think about?” At your silence, he continued. “Come on, baby. Use your words for me.”

“Your fingers.”

“Where?”

A finger slid up between you. Brushed along your lips as a start, eyes connected to his when you trailed a path down the line of your chest. Over your sternum where your heart thrashed wildly. The lines of your abdomen, the softness of your flesh, the button on your shorts. Then lower still, dragging a slow circle along your clothed cunt, bottom lip pinched between your lips.

“What else?”

“Your c-cock; how g-good it feels when you’re inside me—mmm.” Another pinched whine as he tugged down your shirt to bare you to him, as well as the small triangle of your bikini, tongue swirling your sensitive bud of flesh.

His fingers released and your bikini snapped back into place. Desire burned behind Steve’s eyes, dark and round with want. “How long do you think we have?”

Normally, Steve would have had you on your back first, with his mouth buried in your cunt. He’d spend hours there if he could, teasing you. Alternating between suckling your clit and trailing delicate figures, fingers curled deep within you until your foot would eventually tremble against the middle of his back and you’d arch up involuntarily into his awaiting face. He’d toss a forearm over your hips, would press you harder into the mattress, floor, couch, or the back of his car. Would coax you through your orgasm until you grew limp within his arms, and his name was the only word uttered by your lips. But you didn’t have the luxury of time on your side now.

“Few minutes,” you whispered, leaning down to claim his lips, gasping into his eager mouth as fingers worked to free you from your shorts and slide them down your thighs. “Maybe ten. Make ‘em count, Harrington.”

“Bend over the side of the boat for me then, baby.”

Heat rushed throughout your body at his words. The scandal of it, the way nervousness immediately manifested itself in the worrying of your bottom lip. You clambered over his thighs all the same still, knees knocking against the padded cooler presently used as a bench, hitching forward slightly at the waist. A palm came up to rest between your shoulder blades, a strong, comforting chest following suit. Another skirted up and along your waist, over your chest, cupping beneath your ribcage gently.

“What if someone sees, Steve?”

Your eyes trained ahead on the rock formation partially obscuring the boat from the public eye. But you wondered how much it protected you from prying stares—from those who might enjoy the spectacle of a summer tryst. That fear soon quelled, the thrill of being wrapped up in Steve erasing any other thought from your mind.

“We’re good,” he soothed reassuringly against your ear, hand sliding back down over your stomach, then further still to brush against your center, finding you soaked through your bikini bottom. “This is all for me, honey?”

You swallowed your reply, shuddering as he shifted behind you, hips grinding against your ass so you could feel what you’d done to him. Faintly, you overheard the sound of his zipper sliding down. The tinker of his fingers moving to unbutton his jeans. The fumble to push fabric down far enough to free his cock. Your head turned just enough over your shoulder to take him in. Fingers curled around himself, tip already leaking for you, free hand coming to curl around the fabric separating you from him at last.

“Open up wider,” he prompted with a smack to your ass. Immediately rubbed it affectionately to smooth the ache away as soon as it came. You shifted as requested, swallowing a choked moan as his head nudged at your entrance. “Ready for me?”

Head nodding, he pushed in slowly, your breath shaking on a stuttered exhale as he sank in inch by inch. The initial stretch of him had always left you breathless—even after all the times you'd been with him. The kind of breathlessness that had your eyes rolling back, a forearm pressed into your mouth to keep yourself from altering those around you of what you’d gotten up to.

Behind you, Steve started to move, one hand curled around your hip and clutching tight to your flesh, the other between your thighs, rolling perfected circles into your clit, listening to your sighs and moans as you clenched down around him. He moved slowly. Short, practiced movements as you adjusted to him. A gentle ebb and flow, almost devastatingly slow. A delicate drag along your inner walls. Rocked against the swell of your ass, thumb kneading your flesh, parting you for him. In your impatience, you pushed back against him, palms leveraging you enough to force him deeper. Harder. Trying to chase that peak—to reach the euphoria you craved for days now, subdued by the endless prying eyes on you both at all times.

“Love you,” you rasped, forehead dropping down onto your forearm. “Love you so much, Stevie.”

“I love you, too.”

A mantra. A whispered mantra that punched you in the gut as he thrusted into you over and over and over again. Until he slid back. Inched out completely and cool air flowed over your cunt, chilling your slick skin. A whine spilled from your parted lips, choked off only by the delicate brush of Steve’s fingers at your center, slipping and sliding against the wetness there, circling it into your flesh, pushing it inside. He made a mess of you like that. The dirty squelch of his fingers meeting your slick making your breath hitch, chest rising and falling swiftly. Needy, you felt needy, hips wiggling into emptiness as he chuckled behind you.

Delicate fingers clutched at your ass, palmed you open for him, teeth nipping against skin tauntingly. He nudged at your center once more, pressure applied only just, skittering over where you wanted him most. Where you wanted him to sink into, to force the breath free from your lungs, to pound into you until you screamed his name and quivered around him, boneless in your release.

“Steve…” The name came out as an elongated whine. “Stop teasing me. Please. Fuck—just fuck me.”

“So impatient, baby.”

He cooed the words, no malice imbued his tone. And yet you wanted to turn around, to grip him by the neck of his shirt and drag his mouth against yours. To crush him to your breast, biting down into his lip until he groaned.

He laughed again, lifting you up just enough so he could settle your back against the lines of his chest. You relished in that heat, the ridges of his abdomen flush with you, the weight of him with every inhale and exhale. Fingers curled around your chin, thumb prodding at your bottom lip. The other palm, the one that lingered between the two of you, curled around himself. Pushed back into you in time with the lips that descended upon your own.

Too much. It was too much and not enough all at once, mind a whirling haze of colors as he started to set a relentless pace. Held you through it as your body danced closer and closer to your climax, knees trembling upon the bench, the sounds of fleshy smacks against your backside and the fingers circling your clit drowning out the rest of the world.

“Come on, baby. Come on my cock. Wanna watch you fall apart, pretty girl.”

“Steve—!”

You fell apart together. Warmth spilled within you as you trembled and shook in his arms. Your body nearly pitched forward from the weight of your orgasm, held upright only by the arm that looped around your waist to keep you tethered to reality. Bodies tangling, you rolled over onto the bench. Steve slipped free from your body, bathing suit bottom sliding back into place. A sigh followed. Forehead resting against his, you tried to catch your breath. Gasped heat from parted mouths pooled and filled the spaces between the two of you, quieted only by the melding of his lips against yours.

That…and the sound of footsteps against the dock. Heavy thuds that had you jolting upright and thankful you’d only removed your shorts and Steve had enough time to tug his pants back on and loop the button through the hole before your visitor was ever the wiser. The visitors being none other than Argyle and Jonathan, who presently stood, wide-eyed and absolutely not at all shocked to be seeing what they had.

Which…terrified you more than you ever thought imaginable.

“We’re fucked,” Steve muttered beside you.

And yeah, he was probably right.

“Look, Arg, I can explain!”

Steve lingered behind with Jonathan. And probably for the best, what with the way your step-brother looked at you like he’d been betrayed when you immediately rushed forward to try and hug him. Your always joyful step-sibling, though not quite surprised looking, held a certain unfamiliar sadness in his expression that shattered your heart. This dawning realization you’d done something to hurt him.

“I know he’s your friend, but I-I—”

“You love him,” he finished, turning to face you where you stood on the sandy ground. “Look, sis, I know you two have been sneaking around.”

“You—you what?”

“I’ve known. For months, actually. Did you think you were really that good at sneaking his giant head through your window? Also, he’s like…stupid loud when he comes in the front door at night, man. Harrington has two left feet.”

“I mean…” Frustrated, you pouted. “I thought we were doing fine. The sneaking around part, I mean.”

“Nope,” he said, hair blowing in the gentle breeze. “The two of you giggle a ton. And the walls are paper thin in our apartment.”

You…definitely didn’t want to unpack that one.

“Then why are you mad at me?”

You waved your hand in front of his face, outlining the dejected expression on his features. Hated the way he looked at you; like he’d been disappointed in you. You reached out to touch him, catching on the sleeve of his button up tee with palm trees littered all over it. When he didn’t flinch, you stepped closer.

“I’m not mad,” he admitted softly. Reassuringly. “I’m just…upset that you didn’t tell me yourself.”

“You told me I couldn’t date him! No Party on Party macking—you said it!” Jonathan and Steve paused at that, the sounds of their footfalls skittering to a hard stop. “And I didn’t mean to, okay? It wasn’t like I told myself to fall in love with the guy. It just happened.”

“Look—it’s my fault, too. Don’t just be upset with her. I…” Steve appeared at your side, hand at your lower back. Familiar. Affectionate. It dropped as Argyle’s eyes drifted south, watching you both intently. “I love her, man.”

Jonathan whistled in the distance. Argyle’s eyes darted to him, his answering response a shrugged pair of shoulders, and then returned to Steve. “You love her?”

“I love her,” he said fiercely. “I…I really do.”

“And you love him?”

You nodded, curling yourself into Steve’s side. “I’m sorry, Arg. I should have told you. I was scared, and there was never the right moment, and then too much time had passed and I—”

“Are you happy?” he asked you, and your eyes glittered with unshed tears, because yes, yes you were. “Just wish you’d talked to me. You know you can talk to me about anything. We’re family.”

Rushing forward, you curled your arms around your step-sibling, clutching the back of his shirt in your palm. A warm palm, his palm, glided up to rest at your middle back. Hugged you closer as you whispered over and over again to his cheek, now presently against yours, that you were sorry.

“Can’t believe you really thought you two were doing a good job sneaking around.” You slapped him playfully in the stomach, and he pushed you back just enough within the circle of his arms to smile at you. “I love you, sis. And you too, dude. If you both are happy, then I’m happy. Just, uh, next time the two of you have some sort of secret—maybe don’t wait six months to come clean about it, yeah?”

“Ditto,” you laughed, surging forward to hold him again. “Love you.”

A relaxed sigh rattled your bones as you gripped Steve’s hand openly now on your way toward the restaurant, now with Argyle’s blessing attached to it. You didn’t miss the way your step-brother smiled, actually smiled, at your interlocked fingers. Smiled at the way Steve always made sure you were close, be it a reassuring word in your ear, or the brush of his lips at your forehead just as the rest of your friends appeared at the table you’d been assigned.

Brows arched all around upon your arrivals. Thoughts unspoken filled each and every face, stares halting on the hand presently held within your own. Argyle and Jonathan settled down, while you and Steve remained at the head of the table, smiling weakly.

“Okay so…” you began, swallowing thickly. “We wanted to just clear the air and say that…”

“We’re dating,” Steve blurted out, couching at the end. At the unphased expressions all around you, he continued. “Have been for a while now, actually.”

Bracing for impact, you squeezed Steve’s hand tighter.

He squeezed yours back.

And yet nothing prepared you for the resounding, “We know!” from everyone around you.

When you met Eddie’s gaze, he wore a shit-eating grin. Liar pretended he hadn’t known.

“W-what?” you rasped, heart thundering away.

“You’re both not exactly known for being subtle,” Robin expressed, and the pitying gazes all around the table confirmed their agreement.

Your face turned into Steve’s neck, mortification hidden in the shelter of his awaiting body. “Oh my gosh.”

“Well,” he said softly into your hair, laughter shaking his frame. “At least the cat is out of the bag. I love you.”

But gosh, you loved him too.

#lunalovessteve #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x you

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thelovelyruin · 6 months

Text

𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖓 𝖆 𝖜𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : toji x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚�� : you just got back from college and your dad’s old friend is looking extra hot.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : smut, porn with plot, vaginal sex, praise, teasing, fingering, edging.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 5.6K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from more than a woman by aaliyah.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoy it, if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

Passion, instant…

“Man, when was the last time you changed the oil on this thing?”

“The last time I had a good whiskey.”

Now, when your dad hyped Toji up, you weren’t amused at all, considering your dad’s other friends are, well, not very attractive. But, this stranger was hot as hell, currently standing shirtless in your garage. His attention was on fixing up the vintage Chevy your dad had sitting for years. Something about it’ll be a new hobby of mine, something to distract me from my little girl going off to school, but despite the ambition, that damn Chevy was taking up space and collecting dust.

Sweat beads fill me; Cupid's shot me…

He and Toji both began laughing a bit, still tending to their work. It wasn’t until you sat your suitcase down that they noticed you. Your dad was the first to see you, immediately rolling out on the dolly that was supporting his back. He came up to suffocate embrace you with the tightest hug you think he’s ever given you. He pulled back to get a good look at you, smiling real wide and kissing you on the forehead.

“You’re home! I thought you weren’t gonna be back until next week!”

“Well, Jordan may or may not have had an accident with the van while we were at a rest stop. The rest of us thought it would be safer to fly home, so here I am!”

“I told you that knucklehead was bad news, getting into an accident with my daughter in the car. I outta give him a piece of my mind.”

“Dad, I’m fine, no scratches or dents, at least on me. Plus, I think you’ve already given Jordan “a piece of your mind”, or must I remind you of when I brought him back home for Thanksgiving last year?”

“Damn it, I hate it when you're right.”

Toji, hearing the conversation play out, finally looked up from the car's hood.

My heartbeat's racing…tempt me, drive me.

Now, Toji had been around and seen a lot of women, but you, you were an angel in disguise. Your hair was curled, a pretty pink gloss, and a pair of little diamond earrings. Your crop top and cut-off shorts left little to the imagination, tits almost falling out the front and the bottom of your ass peeking out. Those shorts led down to your legs, smooth and glowing, finishing with a pair of bubblegum pink sneakers. You were fucking hot.

When your dad noticed Toji walk around the car, his face lit up a bit, bringing you over. He looked damn good, sweat dripping off his chest, down to his abs, and into the waistline of his jeans. And, boy, he was cut. You assume that all those years in the service were to thank for his physique, but you can tell he still frequents the gym, although you wish he would frequent you. He walked to the bench to grab a shirt, presumably to be appropriate, but your thoughts were nothing close to appropriate.

Feels so exciting, thought of highly. It's yours entirely, I’ll be…

“Toji, this is my daughter. Baby girl, this is Toji.”

“Well, hi there. Your dad’s told me a lot about you. How was college?”

“Hey! Hopefully, all good things! School was good, way stressful, though, especially junior year. I’m just happy to finally be home.”

“Well, little lady, it was nice to meet you. I gotta finish up on the car before this evening.”

Toji gives you a warm smile, walking back with your father to the car. At this point, you dismissed yourself, needing to dial down all of the horny thoughts you had. You figured you could unpack your bags and watch TV, but much to your dismay, Toji was still on your mind. It was getting late; you could tell from the sunset coming through your curtains. Your phone read 6:32, and almost on cue, your stomach started rumbling. You leave your room and head to the living room, figuring your dad would’ve sat down for his beer and movie routine. But he wasn’t. Nervously, you open the door to the garage, your dad and his friend still working.

“Ahem.”

They both averted their attention to you. Toji closed the hood as your dad checked his watch and looked up at you nervously.

“Well, would you look at that? It’s time for dinner!”

“Uh, yeah! What are we eating?”

“Chinese?”

“That’s fine with me.”

Toji had walked around grabbing his things as the conversation between you and your dad played out. Until your dad laid a hand on Toji’s shoulder.

“We’ll get this car moving before the end of the week, that is if you’re not too busy.”

“Fortunately, I’m not. Just doing some renovations on the house I bought.”

“Sounds great!”

“Well, I’ll leave you guys to it.”

Now, you weren’t about to let this opportunity pass you by, not when you had such a good excuse to see Toji some more.

I'll be more than a lover…

“Well, Dad, Toji should join us for dinner! Gotta screen the guy who’s hanging around you, ya know.”

“Hm, that’s a great idea. Toji, wanna join us?”

You were practically bursting with anticipation, praying he’d catch on to your advance. A simple dinner can’t hurt, right? Toji looked a little confused at first, but then he saw your face and gave you a smirk.

“Well, who am I to deny your request? Let me shower and get all this oil off, then I’ll drive back over in time for us to eat.”

Your heart was doing backflips; you couldn’t believe that actually worked.

“Yeah, I should wash up too. Baby girl, order the food, and it should be here by the time we’re done.”

“Sure can do!”

It’s like the food couldn’t come fast enough. You were so excited that you were half tempted to get the order yourself, but you came to terms with the fact you needed some self-control. Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and you jumped like a fish to water. You could still hear the shower running in your dad’s room as you walked by, and you couldn’t be happier. As you approach the door, you stop at the mirror in the entryway. You fix your shirt a bit, making your boobs pop, and check your lipgloss and hair to make sure you look not just good, but hot. You opened the door with a smile that dropped almost instantly. The ring was from the food delivery guy. While you were happy to eat, you hoped it would be the man you wanted to eat at the door. You grabbed the cash your dad left on the console table, and when you turned around to hand the delivery guy the money, you nearly jumped at the sight of Toji walking up the driveway. You quickly handed the delivery guy the cash, heart pounding like crazy.

“I’ll go ahead and take these, thanks.”

More than a woman…

Toji grabbed the bags, smiled at the guy, and closed the door behind him. You led him to the kitchen table, where he sat down the food. You got a good look at him now. His hair was still damp from his shower, and he wore a white t-shirt and a pair of…grey sweatpants. You tried to be coy about it, but damn, did he have a bulge. It was like it was calling out to you, pressed into the leg of his pants. When you looked back up at his face, his eyes were checking you out before making eye contact. Deciding to be a little playful, you adjusted your shirt a bit, acting like you were fixing the fabric, but in reality, you were showing a little more skin. And Toji was getting an eyeful.

“So, ready for dinner?”

You didn’t even hear your dad come down the stairs, jolting a bit at his presence. He walked up to you, wrapping a hand around your shoulder and smiling.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya!”

More than enough for you...

This dinner started pretty simply, you and Toji glancing at each other now and then; acting like he wasn’t just ogling your body in the kitchen. Your dad, deep in his plate, hadn’t even noticed, every now and then taking a swig of his beer. That was until your dad got talkative.

“So, Toji, how ya likin’ things? Know it’s been forever since you’ve been home.”

“It’s nice, real quiet, the way I like it. Feels nice to be around people I know a little better, ya know?”

“Oh yeah, for sure. Same old folks, but we’ve had some new people come into town, wantin’ a break from the city.”

“Well, this is certainly the place to do it.”

“Lots of new women too; find any lookers?

You bit your inner lip at his question. It’s not like you expected Toji to be single, but you were back. So, he was as of now. You and Toji made eye contact before he answered his question, you looking up at Toji in curiosity and him giving you a smirk.

“I met someone, yeah. Not too sure about it, though.”

You chuckled at Toji’s answer, the table averting their eyes on you. Toji smiled smugly, your dad confused. Shit, you had to play it off fast.

“What’s with the question, Dad? Not like you’ve found any lookers. Well, except that lady that was definitely looking for you.”

Your dad was none the wiser, instantly went red and laughed.

“Toji gotta tell you about this one about a year ago; real hottie, real crazy too!”

I'll be more than a lover, more than a woman, even more under covers.

The rest of dinner went on smoothly; they caught up on old memories from high school, talked about Toji’s time in the service, and, of course, you. You’d long since gone to your room, leaving them to talk in the living room, but when you got out of the shower, you’d heard them talking about you. Now, you weren’t usually one to snoop, but it was a conversation about you. With Toji involved. You’d walked to the end of the hallway, behind the wall, as they sat in the living room drinking a couple of beers.

“I was real nervous about her out there by herself, especially when she met that boy. Know she likes him, but he’s bad news, can’t stay out of trouble.”

“Well, maybe now that she’s home, they’ll fall off. It’s different when they’re seeing each other every day.”

Toji was right. You hadn’t spoken to Jordan since you got home (which, to clarify, had nothing to do with Toji). After the whole van incident, you pretty much broke up with him. You guys had been fighting the whole trip, him insisting you should move with him to the city since school was over, but you weren’t interested in leaving your dad behind. The topic created distance between you; that flight back home signified the end of an era. But oh well, there’s a new one.

“I guess you’re right; there’s no pickins’ ‘round here, though. All of ‘em left for college or moved away. Don’t want her hanging out with me forever, but I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

“Trust me, she’ll find someone. Who knows? She’s a catch, for sure, but I think any guy would be intimidated meeting a dad like you!”

“Nonsense, if she found a real man, I’d be no problem.”

I'll be more than a lover, more than a woman, more than enough for you.

You stumbled at his statement, tripping into the living room a bit, their attention now on you. Now, when you were getting ready, you hadn’t originally intended on seeing Toji again for the night. So, that’s why you were wearing the shortest pajama shorts you had, paired with a tank top that, for all intents and purposes, was almost see-through.

“Babygirl! How are ya?”

“Oh! I’m, uh, good!”

You had to think fast. Why would you have been coming to the living room?

“I was just checking on you to make sure you go to sleep at a good time! Don’t forget you have to, um, take me to Leanne’s for breakfast! You said you’d take me as soon as I got back!”

“You’re right, honey, I completely forgot! I should probably head to bed now; that way, I’ll have enough time to get over this hangover.”

He looked over at Toji, who was standing up from the couch.

“Hey man, you should probably crash here. Don’t feel too comfortable with you driving after how many beers we threw back. Take the spare bedroom, farthest down the hall.”

“Yeah, Toji! Just want you to stay safe!”

You interjected the conversation, giving your dad one of those saccharine smiles that he was completely naive to, Toji smug across the room.

“Well, if you guys insist.”

Midnight grindin', heartrate's climbin'.

You waved your dad good night as you and Toji took your respective rooms. You originally intended to just go to bed, listen to some music, and drift off. Your anticipation made that last about ten minutes. With a master plan, you grabbed some blankets out of the hallway closet, knocking on the door to Toji’s room. He’d answered the door, shirtless, presumably about to go to sleep. Giving you a little smile, he stood to the side to let you in, closing the door behind him.

“What’s up, hun?”

“Oh, I, um, just wanted to see if you wanted more blankets; gets drafty in here.”

“Sure, thanks.”

You sat the blankets on the bed, Toji sitting next to them. Smiling at him, you began to lay the blankets out, his hand stopping you before you could finish.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of it, wouldn’t wanna be too warm.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

His hand on you made your body shiver, wishing that hand would’ve just thrown you on the bed and fucked you. But let’s not forget self-control.

“Well, if that’s all, I’ll leave you to it!”

You walked to the door, blushing as you tried to calm yourself down. Just open it and walk out-

“Is that all you wanted?”

Toji had walked over to you and laid his hand above you on the door, inches away from you.

You go, I go, 'cause we share pillows.

This could go one of two ways. You could very easily say “yes” and walk back to your room. But your pussy started talking for you.

“Depends. Did you need something else?”

Toji looked you down, licking his lips on the way up. When he met your eyes again, you were smirking, catching him in the act. Not that he really cared. He brought a hand up to your thin top, playing with the hem, not breaking eye contact as he saw your nipples perk up, shirt barely covering them.

“A little inappropriate, huh? Probably be best to cover up.”

“Not if anyone’s looking.”

He gave you a little snort, getting a good look at how flustered you were.

“What if someone is looking?”

“Then, they should do something about it. Hate to walk around inappropriately, right?”

His hand stopped playing with the hem, instead pulling your top down slowly, stopping right before your nipple was exposed.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, unless they’re enjoying it, looking that is.”

He pulled it down a bit more, nipple fully exposed, his eyes watching it intently.

“Dontcha gotta be up early?”

“That would be right. Thought about staying up a little later, though.”

“Why’s that?”

“Thought it’d be nice to have a little fun.”

He brought his hand up, finger lightly grazing your nipple, making your heart skip a beat.

“I might be able to help with that.”

“Yeah?”

Toji rubbed your nipple with one finger, teasing you.

“Yeah, I can…”

Chase me, leave me…

You brought your lips up to his before he stopped you, pulling your shirt back up and walking away from you. What. The. Fuck.

“But I probably shouldn’t. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on rest.”

You gave him an annoyed look, rolling your eyes, turning to leave the room. As you opened the door, you were met with your dad giving a surprised look to you and Toji. You started to panic, fuck, did he hear any of that? Surely not, he would instantly-

“Hey there! Wanted to let you know there were extra blankets and stuff in the hall closet.”

He looked past you and at the bed, smiling in contentment. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, giving one of those wide smiles he always does.

“Look, seems like my baby girl here was already on it! Great hospitality; thought you might’ve lost that when you left outta here.”

Yeah, great hospitality, alright. You were ready to give Toji the best damn stay of his life. You gave your dad a playful jab, walking past him as you two waved goodnight to Toji. When you went back to your room, your head kept spinning. Had he heard your dad coming? Is that why he stopped? Fuck, he’d played with your nipple and everything, if you could even call it that.

Shit, at least you knew one thing: it was time to put your vibrator to good use.

I don't think you're ready for this thing…

Constant pleasures, no scale can measure.

That whole thing was two days ago. Since then, you’d tried to avoid Toji altogether, too embarrassed to face him, always having something to do when he came to work on the car. That was until your dad intervened.

“Hey, sweetie. Can we talk about something?”

Fuck, this was it. He’d known this whole time and just waited to say something. You sat on your bed as he stood in the doorway, a look of concern on his face. You were too bugged out to say something, just nodded and waited for his response.

“Well, remember when I told you I’d have the pool in the back cleaned out and ready by the time you got home this summer?”

“Uh-huh…”

“Well, time got the best of me, so it’s not done, probably not til next month. But, Toji’s pool is in top shape! That is if you still wanna swim. I asked, and he said that’s perfectly fine.”

“That would be great, thanks, Dad!”

You just hit the fucking gold mine. Firstly, of course, you wanted to go the pool, but a reason to go over to Toji’s, half-naked? Oh, this was just what you needed. Once your dad left, you rummaged the room for materials for your scheme: cute swimsuit, sunscreen, towel, all the good stuff. Except your swimsuit was more of a bikini well, actually, it looked more like a thong and tiny bra. So, pretty damn hot.

Secret treasures, keeps on getting better.

“I’m gonna take the car, okay?”

“Okay, honey, drive safe!”

You’d got over to Toji’s somewhat fast, only about a ten-minute drive, but that ten minutes felt like forever. Especially to the one screaming at you through your bottoms. You’d knocked on the door, breathing in and out to prepare for him to come. Except he didn’t. You didn’t wanna be a weirdo or anything, but your dad did tell him you’d be coming and his car was in the driveway, so where the hell was he? Only one way to find out. You’d open the gate door on the side of the house, walking the pathway to the pool. There was no sign of him so you went ahead and put your stuff down, putting on your sunscreen and-

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Uh, hey!”

You nearly jumped out of your damn skin. Toji had crept up on you, presumably from the house, as the back door was open and he was holding a water bottle. He gave it to you, chuckling a bit at your surprised look.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya. Well, you have the pool. Feel free to stay as long as you’d like.”

Was he acting completely normal? Maybe you had overanalyzed the other night; maybe it wasn’t nearly as horny as it felt. Then again, he had made somewhat of a move on you; maybe you’d test to see if that feeling was still there.

“Hey, Toji, before you go, I can’t get the sunscreen on my back. Can you help with that?”

“Sure, no problem.”

Do you wanna roll with me?

Toji gave you a smirk, taking the sunscreen from you and turning around so he could apply it. His hands were a bit calloused and cold, but they were warming up your skin like fire. Every stroke of his hand got you wetter and wetter, almost melting into his touch as he rubbed the sunscreen into your skin. He’d been careful, stopping right before applying it to your ass, almost waiting for your clearance.

“Touch me.”

He chuckled a bit, bringing his hands down to your ass, massaging the skin there. Your body was working for you, slightly moving as he applied it, moan about to escape from your lips.

“All done, princess.”

With that, he slapped your ass and walked back into the house, leaving you sexually frustrated again. You sighed in exhaustion, you were more than hoping to get your rocks off, but that’d have to wait. Again. That wasn’t gonna stop you from teasing him; you’d play into this coy little game of his. You got into the pool now, swimming for a bit while you thought of what to do next. Part of you wanted to just go in there naked and tell him to fuck you, but that was a little too brave. Instead, you had a better idea.

“Hey, Toji?”

He walked out of the house, walking over to you at the pool. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that you were giving him those fuck me eyes.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I need some help, my swimsuit top broke!”

You brought your body out of the water a bit, straps floating as you held the fabric to your chest. Toji wiped his face down, smirking at your dedication to this bit.

“Accidents happen. Let’s go inside; I got a shirt you can wear.

We can go to foreign lands, your hand in my hand.

Before you entered Toji’s house, another idea hatched.

“I’d hate to get water all over your floor! I can wait here til you get it.”

With a confused look, he shrugged and walked in. After a couple of minutes, he returned with a shirt, definitely a bit bigger than your figure, along with a towel. You began drying yourself off, taking extra care to dry the places he was actively staring at.

“That should fit you. I can make you something to eat; I’m sure you’re hungry after all that swimming.”

“Thanks, here, hold this so I can put it on.”

You handed him your swim top, chest fully exposed, nipples hard from the change of temperature. His face went flustered as he held it, eyes glued to your tits. With a smile, you brought the shirt over your head, putting it on as he watched you.

“These are wet; should probably take these too.”

With that you brought your fingers to the hem of your bottoms, pulling them down and handing them to Toji, fully naked now except for his shirt. He was chuckling, almost red from the boldness you had. You walked past him into the house, waiting for him on the kitchen island as he closed the back door. You pretty much knew you had him, but you needed that thing to take him right over the edge. So, you did. Toji walked up to you now, leaning against the counter opposite of you, giving you an expectant look.

“So, what are we eating…hopefully me.”

That was enough. Toji cleared the distance between you, hand wrapping behind your neck as he brought you in to kiss you. The kiss was hungry and needy; all that pent-up sexual frustration finally getting handled. You let him lead, hand coming down to rub your pussy before slipping his fingers inside you, eliciting a moan from you.

“You know we shouldn’t be doing this, but you’re quite the naughty one.”

“I am and obviously so are you; if not you wouldn’t be fingering me.”

“Got a point there.”

He smiled a bit, tilting your head so he can suck the skin of your neck, kissing you in all the right places.

“If you want me so bad, why’d you stop? Hear my dad coming?”

“Coincidence, sweetheart. Didn’t hear him at all.”

“So, why not continue?”

He brought your legs up, sitting you on the counter as he brought his hand down to grip your ass.

“Cause I’d feel bad about fucking my friend's daughter in his house.”

“So, fuck me here.”

Do you wanna ride with me?

Toji picked you straight up, throwing you over his shoulder as he walked to his room, you laughed as he brought you up the stairs. Once in his bedroom, he closed the door and sat you on the bed, undressing before taking you out of his shirt. In a swift motion, he laid you down, body coming over yours to kiss you again, pulling back slightly to get a good look at you.

“So, what about your little boyfriend?”

“What boyfriend?”

He laughed as he brought his fingers to you again, this time, rubbing your clit as you moaned underneath him. Moving down slowly, he caught one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and pulling at it with his tongue. It had you moaning, arching your back slightly as he brought his other hand up to play with your other nipple. The one that started it all. He’d found his way to your stomach licking a line straight down as he made eye contact with you, finally stopping when his tongue met your bud. Quickly, he flipped you two over, laying on his back as he sat you on his face. He didn’t give you time to prepare at all, arm pinning your legs down as his tongue worked wonders on your clit. Fuck, it was fantastic. Every lick had you gripping his headboard tighter, grinding against his face as you lost yourself in his mouth. He had you moaning near screaming, eyes on you as he worked his tongue underneath you. You couldn’t even look at him, too involved with your impending orgasm. You truly didn’t give a fuck, taking his mouth for yourself as you felt yourself about to cum. You’d thrown your head back now, Toji seeing you about to unfold and licked your clit even faster, arms bringing you so close he could suffocate. Then, it was bliss.

Your orgasm hit you hard, hand clenching on the headboard so hard you could swear you broke it. You rode it all the way out, moving your hips against his mouth as he lapped up your cum. He’d started loosening his grip on your thighs, holding you to prevent you from tipping over, and laid you on your back. You were on cloud nine, eyes still fluttering as you came down. Toji brought his face down to yours, kissing your cheek and then moving his lips to your ear.

“You did so good, taste fucking great too. You okay?”

“Fuck me.”

We can be like Bonnie and Clyde, me by your side.

Toji laughed at your bluntness as he opened your legs and sat them on either side of his hips.

“Whatever you say, princess.”

You were in fucking need. Cumming on his mouth was amazing, but you knew you didn’t wanna stop there, and neither did he. You opened your legs even wider for him, pulling him down by his neck to kiss him, bucking your hips into his waist as your sensitive bud brushed against his boxers. You could feel your wetness soaking into the fabric, making his dick harder than a brick. Swiftly, he fell back, making quick work to take off his boxers and climb back on top of you. Fuck, he had a big dick. His lips hovered over yours as you groaned in anticipation, feeling him rub against your lips, toying with you.

“Ready for me? Don’t wanna hurt ya.”

“Yes, sir.”

That lit a fire in him, hungrily bringing your hips towards him and then kissing your cheek. And just like that, he slipped in. He took his time, moving what felt like inch by inch to let you adjust to him. It did hurt a bit, but all that ended when he was all the way in, kissing you as he started moving his hips. It felt so fucking good. Toji stroked you slowly, being real careful with you as he exhaled on your shoulder, making you shudder under him. He’d pulled up and sat on his hands now, looking for that green light in your eyes for him to go faster, and once you gave it, he gave it to you exactly how you needed it.

I'll be more than a lover…

Toji had a steady pace, hands gripping your hips to steady you as he fucked into you. Your eyes had rolled back, whimpering as you gave your body to him. He knew exactly what to do with it, satisfying any craving you’d had up to that point. He fell in love with the way you moaned his name, fueling his thrusts to faster, making you moan it even louder.

“Toji…”

“Looks like those college boys haven’t been fucking you right, huh?”

“No, sir…”

“Don’t worry, ima take real good care of you.”

And that he did. He had you scratching his back, trying to get a grip as he fucked you. His hand had long since found your leg, pulling it up to your stomach to fuck you deeper. He was hitting everything inside you, felt like his dick was made for you. He was definitely right; the boys at school were shit in bed, either only fucking til they came in 3 minutes or not eating you out at all. None of them were ever as big as Toji either, especially not Jordan, he hadn’t fucked you nearly as good as this. Probably because of age, learned how to really please a woman after all these years, and fuck, you wanted it all to yourself.

More than a woman…

“Hold on tight, baby.”

Toji flipped you over so you were on top, hands gripping your ass as he slammed you on his dick. It was hard not to just scream his name over and over, wanting to be a little tame as he fucked you. But that was all over when he picked up his pace again. You could barely hold yourself up, hands gripping his shoulders as he guided you, giving it to you in that special spot that had you dying inside. Shamelessly, you threw your hips back on him as you screamed his name, him smiling below you.

“Looks like I found your sweet spot. Let me hear you baby, wanna know just how good I’m making you feel.”

“So fucking good, Toji…So good…”

He’d slapped your ass to say good girl, making you whimper every few thrusts when he did it. You finally reached a point where you could actually look at him; his face was sweating, hair sticking to it as he looked at you smugly like he was waiting to see your reaction to him taking you. He was fucking hot, something about the hungry look in his eyes had your pussy clenching around him, making him groan and bite that scar on his lip. You knew you weren’t gonna last very much longer, that fire rising inside you as he synced your bodies together.

“I see it, princess. Let me have it.”

You tried your best to hold in, wanting to hold off so you could get fucked longer, but it was just too good to hold back. Your fingers gripped his shoulders so hard you’d swear they’d bruise, screaming his name. He brought a hand up to your face, moving it so he could look at you as you came. You had been closing your eyes so hard your mascara smeared, lips plump from all the kissing, and face warm and flustered from how hard it was hitting you. He’d fucked you deep, wanting to feel your pussy spasm on every inch of him, sending him into overdrive. As you rode out your orgasm, he was chasing his, body turning to putty as he claimed your pussy as his. Toji was sexy as hell, groaning and moaning your name as he fucked his cum inside you.

Even more under covers.

You couldn’t keep it together anymore, so fucked out that you tipped over, Toji catching you as you fell. He laid you down gently, resting your head on the pillow as he pulled out of you. You were fucking done. You’d almost fallen asleep, head falling to the side as your body came to terms with just how much pleasure it had experienced.

“Hold on baby, let me take care of you first.”

Toji walked to his bathroom, wetting a washcloth and cleaning you up. You squirmed a bit at the overstimulation, too tired to even let out a moan. He’d pulled the covers over you, brushing your hair as you drifted to sleep. He’d gotten in bed next to you, lying down. Then the damn doorbell rang. Irritated, he got up and threw on some clothes, trying to be presentable enough to open the door. Fuck, whatever it was, it better be-

“Hey, Toji! Have ya seen her ‘round? She forgot her phone back at the house.”

I'll be more than a lover, more than a woman, more than enough for you.

♱ the song used in this story is more than a woman by aaliyah. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

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culther · 2 months

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⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀❝ 𝐀𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐘𝐀𝐇’𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ! ❞

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀AALIYAH’S UNFORGETTABLE FASHION SENSE ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀EXPLORED, ─── AN ARTICLE WRITTEN & PHOTO ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ EDITS MADE BY MIA GOLDS

If you ask anyone in the world to define the legacy of Aaliyah, you’ll receive a myriad of responses. Some will praise the rising IT Girl whose precious life tragically ended too soon, while others will reflect on the profound impact she’s made on their existence in one way or another.

Many others will recount her evolution from a young R&B sensation to a mature artist exploring pop music and other sounds on the brink of her prime. But regardless of the response you get, one thing reigns true as the definition of her essence: her iconic fashion sense.

From the moment she burst onto the music scene in 1994 with her first album “ Age Ain’t Nothing but A Number “ as a fresh-faced teenager, Aaliyah captivated audiences not only with her angelic and smooth vocals but also with her distinctive sense of style.

In her early years, she came out the gate pushing the envelope of what it means to be a budding artist and a free-spirited young black girl. Many of her looks effortlessly blended streetwear stylings with subtle couture pieces, rocking oversized sports jerseys and baggy pants paired with sleek, feminine touches like crop tops and crop jackets to create uniquely balanced silhouettes and cuts.

A fashion format she carried throughout the entirety of her career, through time she changed the way she presented it but the elements of it remained. As she soared into her stardom and maturity as an artist, so too did her fashion sense.

Later she embraced more feminine and refined aesthetics, favoring sexy silhouettes, tailored gowns, and minimalistic elegance. Her iconic tomboy ‘ sweet but street ‘ chic look became synonymous with effortless coolness, and inspired countless fashion trends.

Establishing her as the true style icon she was, ahead of her time and still remains today. Regardless, it was her ability to seamlessly transition between various fashion personas that truly set her apart from any of her peers.

Whether she was rocking a glamorous gown on the red carpet or effortlessly slaying in a baggy tracksuit on stage, Aaliyah exuded confidence and authenticity in every ensemble.

That very same confidence and coolness continues to resound in the world around us today. From celebrities and influencers, to everyday fashion enthusiasts who pride themselves in their physical expression.

The beauty of creating art is that it is big— and permanent enough to live beyond us. Within her short time on earth, she continued to push boundaries and explore new musical territories, and her fashion choices unwound alongside her, reflecting her growth as an artist and into a woman.

From the streets of Brooklyn to the stages of the world, Aaliyah's fashion journey was as dynamic and diverse as her music, leaving an unforgettable imprint on the industries of fashion and music alike.

𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: From Tomboy to Tommy Girl

During her debut era in 1994, Aaliyah not only captivated audiences with her smooth, soulful vocals on hits like “ Back & Forth,” “ At Your Best ( You Are Love ), “Old School, “ & “ Age Ain’t Nothing but A Number “— the title track of her debut album, to name a few… but also with her distinctive sense of fashion.

The way she dressed didn’t just resound the casual and laid-back lifestyles of the R&B & Hip-Hop scene of the 1990s, but it also reflected her confident, humorous, yet collected personality.

There wasn’t a single teen girl in America that didn’t want to be like Aaliyah. Black girls everywhere aspired to make oversized jerseys, baggy pants, cropped tops, statement sunglasses, numerous colored bandanas, and baseball caps look as chill as she did. Her uniqueness quickly made her a sensation and role model to look up to.

In addition to her loose-fitted hoodies and starter jackets, a wrist full of silver bangles and standout nail polish colors added feminine contrast to anything you’d see her in, and how could we forget her “ A “ initial necklace? Simple but effectively iconic.

Her early appeal and aesthetics can be attributed to the legendary fashion stylist Derek Lee. From 1994 onward through her career, Derek was instrumental in crafting her trendsetting tomboy aesthetic. It was his hard work and vision that helped to shape her distinctive fashion sense and solidify her status as a style icon.

Under his guidance, she became known for her effortless blend of masculine yet sweetly feminine elegance, taking risks, setting trends, and inspiring fans worldwide. Derek has also styled Lil Kim, Bobby Brown, and Macy Gray, to name a few.

As his muse, Aaliyah landed her first significant collaboration campaign for Tommy Hilfiger in 1996. Tommy Hilfiger is a brand whose name still holds the same weight today as it did in the 90s.

Becoming a Tommy Girl allowed Aaliyah to express her creativity in a new way. Their collaboration blended urban streetwear-inspired styles to cater to the day's youth and offered a sense of high-quality exclusivity. Her laid-back touch perfectly complemented Tommy’s preppy dynamic and made a memorable partnership that we still recognize and associate with the R&B star.

Working with Tommy also introduced Aaliyah to her best friend, Kidada Jones, the fashion stylist and designer, who is also the daughter of music legend Quincy Jones. Their shared interests in music, fashion, and culture are said to have led to a natural connection and friendship over time. The two young women were just alike.

𝐖𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: Get it? Anyways, Aaliyah’s Evolution from Teen Idol to Full Blown Superstar!

In the Mid to Late 1990s, Aaliyah’s style evolved into something with the makings of a rebirth—a renaissance for her womanhood. The teenage tomboy crooner had grown into a young woman navigating mainstream success, and her fashion began to reflect that portion in her narrative.

Many of those who adored her for her music also adored her fashion sense as it became less practical and increased in intricacy. She traded her baggy pants, oversized leisure wear, and cropped tees for sleek leathers, fitted dresses, and high-fashion-grade ensembles that added more contrast and texture to her wardrobe.

Though she never shied away from wearing color, her palette during this era took on a more toned-down colorway to emphasize her maturity: rusted earth tones, browns, grays, and lots of black.

Her red carpet looks became increasingly refined during this era, showcasing her versatility and ability to transition between different fashion personas seamlessly. As she navigated her way through the entertainment industry, tackling acting roles and additional modeling campaigns, how she presented herself began to attest to her evolution as a person with each project she put out.

Her ‘One In A Million’ era was the dawning of a new point in her career, with the sophomore album marking a transition into a more cultivated sophistication in her artistry and welcoming bolder accessories for her coming-of-age narrative. She showed versatility as she was praised on cover shoots for teen magazines nationwide and reserved her edge by allowing her signature shades, oversized jackets, and necklaces to appear.

Her self-titled “ Aaliyah “ album era was the last project released during her time here. This era was the pinnacle of her evolution. This portion of her art saw her embracing sultry vocals and lyrics, all the while coming into the glamor of stardom and confidence with every public appearance. Statement pieces and bold colorways once again found themselves in her look. Avante-garde designs, high fashion designer-brand labels, and intricate detailed pieces and patterns, to name a few— demonstrated her fearless approach as a trendsetter and tastemaker.

This era leaves a bittersweet imprint in the minds of many. While we applaud the woman she was becoming, we cry for the sweet spirit we lost so tragically and too soon.

𝐀𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐘𝐀𝐇, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄: Her Homage to High Fashion

Her partnership with Tommy Hilfiger in the mid-1990s was a groundbreaking moment, as she became the face of Tommy Jeans, effortlessly blending mainstream fashion with hip-hop culture.

Aaliyah's influence also reached luxury fashion houses like Versace, Gucci, and Alexander McQueen, where she was admired for her daring fashion choices and ability to push boundaries.

She seamlessly incorporated pieces from these brands into her wardrobe during photoshoots, music videos, and other public appearances, showcasing her impeccable taste and fearless approach to style.

Aaliyah's affinity for luxury fashion not only elevated her image but also helped raise the visibility of these brands within the urban music and fashion scenes.

She famously wore a custom-made Tom Ford for Gucci leather jumpsuit in the music video for her song "Try Again," a look that continues to be complimented.

She rocked a stunning black silk organza gown from Alexander McQueen’s Spring/Summer 2000 collection in her final music video for "Rock the Boat." Along with designs by Thierry Mugler, including a metallic silver jumpsuit during her performance at the MTV Video Music Awards in 1998.

Her legacy as a style icon inspires designers, artists, and fashion enthusiasts worldwide, solidifying her status as a timeless muse for high fashion designer brands with an unstoppable influence.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄: 23 Years Later…

Aaliyah's influence on fashion transcends time, resonating even in present-day trends 23 years after her untimely passing. The entire thesis of this exploration is to emphasize how her style continues to inspire a new generation of fashion enthusiasts, celebrities, and influencers all these years later. I aim to stress how her incredibly unmatched talent and passion for fashion collaboratively created a legacy that still holds her light.

Modern-day stars like Zendaya, known for her boundary-pushing fashion choices and effortless blend of streetwear and high fashion, often cite Aaliyah as a source of early inspiration.

Similarly, Ciara's bold and glamorous style pays homage to Aaliyah's rule-breaking approach to fashion, with her outfits and statement accessories reminiscent of the late icon.

Tinashe, an independent artist and producer, embraces Aaliyah's signature tomboy-chic aesthetic, infusing it with her own modern twist to create a unique and captivating look.

Aleali May, who in my opinion is a fusion of Aaliyah & Kidada Jones’ essence, is a designer stylist and continues to be a rising star in the fashion world, channels Aaliyah's relaxed and understated elegance in her streetwear-inspired looks and all of her designs, proving that Aaliyah's influence knows no boundaries.

Even global superstar Rihanna, known for her daring and trendsetting style, acknowledges Aaliyah's impact on fashion, paying homage to her in her music and fashion choices. Along with the beautiful and eclectic Teyana Taylor further attesting to the power of a legacy as well.

Beyond celebrities, influencers and public figures across social media platforms continue to celebrate Aaliyah’s fashion that came before her time, reinterpreting it for the digital age and keeping her legacy alive for generations to come.

Aaliyah's style and unapologetic individuality continue to serve as a reminder that true fashion icons are immortalized not only in memory but also in the enduring influence they leave behind. Great art never expires.

━━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐒 & 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀:

CULT HER INSTAGRAM

CULT HER TWITTER

PERSONAL TUMBLR PAGE

ADDITIONAL LINK TREE

COPYRIGHT & REPOSTING NOTICE: All written content and picture edits in this Tumblr post are original creations by me, from my own mind. Reposting or unauthorized use without permission is strictly prohibited. Please respect my work. I also have stated numerous times I do not own the original images used in my edits for this post. I claim no ownership over those. © MIA GOLDS / CULT HER.

━━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄!

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roguehongsami · 6 months

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Cult Leader.

pairing/s: professor!hongjoong x fem!student

genre/s: slow burn, fluff, smut, au

synopsis: the struggle between freedom & autonomy, and routine in a relationship leaves you at crossroads. hongjoong waits at the end of one road w. his heart on his sleeve, hoping you eventually make the turn.

content: teacher-student (late & early 20s, consensual), toys, dacryphilia, unprotected sex (condomize), mirror sex, creampie, cockwarming, breast play, overstimulation, spanking, degradation, praise.

word count: 7.8k

author's note: read cs to avoid confusion. story is focused on aaliyah from cs. her name is now Y/N, and Y/N from cs is now solana. have fun w. both perspectives. also, thank you for interacting w. my last story. it got 10x the traffic i was expecting. your support doesn't go unnoticed. xoxo.

* DISCLAIMER: THIS IS FICTIONAL. IT IS NOT A REPRESENTATION OF KIM HONGJOONG'S CHARACTER, PERSONALITY OR BEHAVIOUR. THIS IS SOLELY FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES. *

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ lana del rey // cult leader

Solana had not been answering Y/N's calls. All of her attempts would go to voicemail after a few rings. The show was about to start and Solana was nowhere in sight. Not knowing what to do next, she started making her way through the crowd. Her best option was to go home at that point. The show was Solana's idea yet she was late for it. Frustrating doesn't even begin to cover it. She felt a hand grab her wrist. Startled, she whipped her head around and came face-to-face with the culprit.

Her eyes wide, she said, "Professor Kim?"

"What are you doing here?" he wore a beautiful smile.

"I came here for the show." Y/N said, matter-of-factly. "And maybe to get drunk." she admitted shamefully.

Hongjoong released her hand and pocketed his hands in his jeans. He smirked. "Aren't you supposed to be prepping for Yunho's test tomorrow?"

"Yes and no." she shrugged nonchalantly. "I already understand time signatures. And the test isn't until three o'clock."

"Did you come alone?"

"Well, I was supposed to be here with Solana but she's not answering my calls. I think she got held up at her drum lessons." she sighed, unable to hide her disappointment.

Hongjoong pondered on his thoughts before he let out, "Instead of ditching the show, why not keep each other company?"

Y/N chewed on her lower lip, uncertain if that would be a wise move. As much as she would've loved to spend time with Hongjoong, the last thing she wanted was to incur the wrath of the school committee. She only had one semester left but let's be honest, it was never in her nature to play by the book. Challenging authority and taking risks had always been her hallmark.

She accepted Hongjoong's offer, weaving their way through the crowd that was growing by the minute. He led them to a pub table with two chairs. A waitress took their drink orders and came back with a mai-tai for Y/N, and a beer for Hongjoong.

"I never pegged you for a Molchat Doma fan." Hongjoong took a swig of his beer.

She took a sip of drink. "Somebody said something similar when I went to a Selofan show in April." she chuckled lightly. "I don't look the part."

"To be fair, you wear a lot of yellow." he pulled his face jokingly. "Doesn't really scream 'goth', now does it?"

She fake gasped with her hand over her chest. "I just don't wanna box myself. Is that a crime?"

"No, it is not. And frankly, I admire your refusal to be bound by rules."

"So what's the story behind the split dye?"

He ran his fingers through his hair and gave the most charming smile. She could feel her heart skip a beat. If there was anybody who could capture Y/N's undivided attention, it was Hongjoong. Although it never seemed so, Y/N thought a lot about her professor. Hongjoong had the entire student body wrapped around his finger; girls wanted him and boys wanted to be him. The man's charisma was incomprehensible and his word was rule. He knew how far his influence could stretch but Y/N, she never gave him that satisfaction.

For every swoon, she snickered. Every compliment was met with a scoff.

Hongjoong reminded Y/N of everything she was. Even with the very little interaction they shared, he could read her like a book. The way he spoke, the way he carried himself, his lack of consideration for rules... He was her. Her nonchalance was merely a method of deflection. She was smitten. Hongjoong was well aware and he enjoyed indirectly pushing her buttons. This game of cat-and-mouse was just a subtle way to communicate with one another.

"I wanted to try something new. Something that could get everyone's attention." he smirked.

"Was the red not enough?" she rolled her eyes.

"The red never got your attention." he coaxed her.

Not expecting that response, Y/N's drink went down the wrong pipe and she choked. She regained her composure and mumbled, "Well played, Joong."

Hongjoong boasted. He had finally managed to crack her armour. His efforts were getting recognised but if Y/N was truly anything like him, she was going to make him sweat. And he was in it for the long run. It was the first chase he was fully going to commit himself to. He wanted her, and he was willing to work for her. "Desperation" was not the word, no. With a legion of girls who were dying to be bedded by the Kim Hongjoong, it was the girl with a stone in the place of her heart whom he desired. He was motivated.

As the night progressed, the pair exchanged more words than they ever had in during the year. Bartender was placing drinks on their table every hour. The background music fell away, both forgetting that they came for the very thing they were ignoring. The number of people began dwindling as soon as Molchat Doma finished their set. A few local bands came on but nobody was really attentive. It was 23:30 and the club was closing. Hongjoong paid for their drinks. They made their way outside, still chatting about. He drove her back home and watched as she entered her apartment complex, before taking himself back home.

"Y/N, can I borrow you for a sec?" Professor Jeong Yunho called out to Y/N as she was stepping out the door.

She backtracked and went to Yunho's desk. "Yes?"

"Do you have any idea why Solana's isn't attending my class?" his eyebrows creased.

"She won't tell me either. And I won't force her to." Y/N sucked her teeth and crossed her arms over her chest. "If you want an answer, just get her in a very public space. She hates getting cornered."

Yunho laid back in his chair and put his arms on the armrest. "Like after class?"

"No. 'Cause then she'll make up an excuse about needing to get to another class. The mixer next week, she'll be there."

"Thank you, Y/N. I'm starting a new chapter and she's going to fall behind." Yunho grabbed a paper on his desk and handed it to Y/N. "Monday's test results. Get it to her, please?"

As she walked down the hallway about to journey back to her complex, Lecture Hall 1117 — Guitar. Her hand hovered over the handle, unsure of her own actions. She pulled it down and slowly opened the door. As her eyes scanned the empty hall, different types of guitars stacked at the very back, Hongjoong's eyes landed on her frame with his eyebrows arched. An unexpected surprise. He had not spoken to Y/N since the show, and they had barely exchanged any words in class either.

Slowly entering the classroom, holding Hongjoong's gaze, she locked the door behind her. He turned around in his chair and set his pen on the table, seizing with grading papers. She stood awkwardly at the door, toying with her fingers like a little child. As terrified as she was, she was ready to start making an effort with Hongjoong.

That'll be freedom and a half.

"Thought you'd be gone by now." she spelled, her voice meek.

"Wanted to get some work done first." a shit-eating grin materialised across his face.

He sensed how uneasy she was, as if she had just admitted defeat. As much as he would have loved to revel in the situation, he was not about rub it in her face and ruin whatever chances he had with her.

He opened his arms and motioned for her to come to him. "Come here."

She remained planted in her place at the door.

"No funny business, I promise. Just come here." She moved into his embrace. He positioned her on his lap and begun rubbing circles on her back. Her head laid in the crook of his shoulder. She couldn't help but purr under his touch.

"Are we finally making progress?" he asked as he picked up his pen and continued grading papers.

"A little bit." her head still buried in his shoulder.

"A little bit." he parrotted. "You wouldn't even look at me in the first semester, so I'll take what I can get." he chuckled lightly, which prompted Y/N to reciprocate the gesture.

On the outskirts of the city, Hongjoong had his car parked on the side of a road near a field. The skies were gloomy, clouds a deep grey and a light breeze that made the grass sway. Y/N sat between Hongjoong's legs, with him leaning against the door, as they watched outside. He had his arms wrapped over her shoulders, chin rested on the top of her head.

"You really love the seventies, don't you?" she spoke softly.

"The clothes, the cars, the music. There's a flair to that decade that's just... special."

"'The freedom land of the seventies'." she slipped out of his hold and sat up, turning around to face him. "I'd always hear stories from my grandma from then."

His eyebrows creased in the middle. "Like what?"

"She was a free-loving hippie then, flowers in the hair and everything. Before she left the States, she got to see Jimi and Janis at Woodstock."

"You're lying, right?" he gave her a suspecting look.

"On the day Janis performed, she met a man named Graham. They were glued at the hip the whole weekend. Eventually they started dating."

"That doesn't sound so bad." Hongjoong chuckled.

Y/N gave him a blank stare, biting on the inside of her cheek. "Graham... was a cult leader. When they dated, grandma joined his cult. She never left his side. He could convince her to do anything."

Hongjoong sat upright and watched Y/N intensely, waiting for her to say she was lying.

"But Graham died in seventy-eight."

"What happened to the cult after he died?"

"It just dissipated, grandma was devastated. She loved him, no man has ever measured up to Graham in her eyes. Everyone thinks she's just a senile old woman with raging dementia but I don't." she leaned back on the seat, laying her head on the headrest. "She said it was the best time of her life. Always encouraging me to find my own freedom. She wants me to live." she turned her head to face Hongjoong. "'Lay down, my child'. Something Graham used to say to her."

"How does your grandpa feel about her loving Graham that much?"

"Probably tooting his own horn." A mischievous smile spread across her face, unable to mask her amusement. "Graham is my granddad."

Hongjoong was too dumbfounded to gather the words to speak. He stared at her blankly and all she could do was keep smiling. They sat in silence for a few moments, holding each other's gaze. Hongjoong fixed his posture and planted his feet on the floor. He cupped her face. She held his wrists, looking at him through her lashes. She gulped to ease the anxiety creeping in. The atmosphere suddenly became heavy, all that could be heard was their breathing.

"Everyone either wants to be you or be with you. Your personal 'yes-men'. They're so desperate for your approval, for you. It's very..." she broke the silence, their lips grazing.

"Cult-like?" he let go of her face and held her hands. A smirk breaking out. "Do I make you feel free?"

She nodded in agreement. "I think our little back and forth is freeing. You don't rush me." her voice was faint. She dropped her head, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"It took an entire semester to get you to talk to me, acknowledge me. I can wait a while longer."

"I just need you to hold my hand until I'm ready. I don't think you'd ever stifle my freewill but I need to be sure."

He pressed his lips to hers. She happily obliged. He snaked his arms around her waist, hoisting her up to his lap. Her hand was pressed against the window, the other slinked over his shoulder. Their breathing picked up, body temperature slowly rising. He slid his hands under her shirt, sending shivers down her spine. His lips moved down to her neck, nipping at the skin.

A downpour struck down on Hongjoong's car, jolting them out of their little bubble. As he kept tracing kisses and bites on her neck and shoulders, she was distracted by the droplets on the window. Her fingers following the drops sliding down. She broke away from Hongjoong. His eyebrows creased, confused. She opened the door and stepped out. The rain smacking against her skin.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" Hongjoong asked as he slid to the door.

He grabbed her wrist and she looked down on him while he sat in the car. "I don't know."

She ran off into the field until she reached the very center. Her head cocked up to the sky, eyes closed. Rain washed down her face. Her shirt became translucent, sticking to her skin. Her entire body was drenched. She spread her arms out.

"I did everything I wanted. I lived. I loved. And now it's your turn."

"But I don't know how..."

"Yes, you do. You're just scared, that's it." she handed her a bowl of snacks. "As for love, you'll know when you've found the one. He'll be there no matter what."

Spin. Spin. Spin.

She recalled a conversation she had with her grandmother. Her words rang true. There was fluttering in her stomach. But sometimes those butterflies could be warning signs. Unsure which it was. Harbingers of a beautiful something or an awful auspice.

Hongjoong snuck up on her as she was so engrossed with what was in her head. He grabbed her waist and held her hand in his. He spun her around once more, with one knee bent, he dipped her. They held their position a few seconds before he reeled her back in and held her. She rested her hands around his neck and leaned in to kiss him. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"Soon you'll realise that you can have me without sacrifice. And I'll be right here when you do."

Most students had already taken their place in the hall. Some were in the back getting their guitars of the rack. Y/N was tuning her guitar, readying herself for the day's lesson. She was feeling a bit under the weather that day; her face was flushed and nose congested, an occasional sneeze into her sweater sleeve. Her little liberty expedition into the rain had left her with a parting gift; a cold.

Once all the students were seated, Hongjoong began his lesson. He paced up and down in front of the students, asking questions about various scales. The class was engaged in the lesson but Y/N, not so much. Her cold medication had put her in her a state of delirium. She could barely keep her eyes open.

"I put you into groups of three last time and assigned you solos to analyse. Get to it." Hongjoong spoke authoritatively as he sat in his chair, feet propped up on his desk.

Y/N rummaged in her tote bag, the little device hiding from her, then pulled forth a small device the size of her hand. She plugged the amPlug into her guitar. The headphones that hung around her neck were pulled over her head and covered her ears. She plugged the wired headphones into the amPlug.

Kathy brought her hand up over her head, waving, which got Hongjoong's attention. Diverting his attention from his phone screen to an eager Kathy, he sighed.

"Kathy?" his tone low and uninterested.

She twirled her hair in her fingers, giggling with her friends upfront the class. "So... mister Kim, do you like... have a girlfriend?"

Kathy had never shied away from making passes at Hongjoong. She had always been shamelessly vocal about her desire to get with him. Half the student body knew and even the faculty caught wind. It played off more as a joke to everyone, but not Kathy. Not Kathy.

Hongjoong never held any animosity towards anyone. He got along with everyone, always as respectful as he could be. Thing is, he also had one hell of a reputation for flirtatious behaviour. Albeit with no intention to follow through with something more, he'd either wink at students or mindfully caress the female staff just to get a reaction out of them. He loved the influence he had over everyone. It was all a game to him.

Half the class was taken aback by the question, feeling as if it was a bit intrusive. The other half were more engrossed by the assessment that was due. Y/N held her head up, curious to what his answer might be. Hongjoong smirked, standing up from his chair. He strolled to Kathy and stood in front of her, arm slinked over the music stand.

"Why Kathy, do you want a date?" Hongjoong smiled with a wave of confidence washing over him.

Kathy playfully rolled her eyes and giggled some more. "I mean-"

Hongjoong briefly glanced at Y/N. "I flirt a lot but I don't do students. And I'm not on the market." he said arrogantly, shooting her a wink.

Embarrassment washed over Kathy as she sunk into her seat. Hongjoong pat her on the shoulder, then pocketed his hands into his slacks. He took a few laps around the hall, as his students spoke amongst themselves. Y/N put her headphones over her ears and began strumming. She felt a sense of relief hearing Hongjoong's response, but couldn't help think a part of what he said may have been a silent jab at her. Setting aside her thoughts, she focused on her playing.

Solana tapped Y/N on her shoulder, bringing her out her bubble of notes and chords, and pushed the headphones behind her ears.

"I need a pick, I think I lost mine."

Y/N took out a small metal container from her tote bag. "What kind do you use?"

Solana pondered as her index finger was pressed on her chin. "Standard three-five-one, point-eight gauge."

She opened up the metal container. Her finger swiping through the various collection of picks. Bringing forth a lime green pick, she inspected it then held it out to Solana. She took it between her fingers, pouting, she looked up at Y/N.

"Don't you have it in celluloid?"

"You know I only use nylon."

Solana shrugged. "Thanks anyway." her fingers flipped through the music sheet on the stand in front of her. "Can't believe Professor Kim gave us Free Bird. I don't get the physics behind sliding. I like the glissando though."

Y/N passed a breathy chuckle, amused by Solana's complaint. "I did it with a bottle neck once, I'll show when we get home."

Solana puts on her headphones, strumming away on her guitar. Y/N pages through the music sheet, making notes on the sheet with her pencil and jotting down in her notebook. Engrossed with her work, she didn't realise Hongjoong was nearing her as he took laps around the hall. A tingling sensation played around in her nasal cavities, eliciting a sneeze that was directed into her sleeve. She took out a handkerchief a swiped it across her nose.

Hongjoong shook his head in discontent, tsking as he halted right beside her. "Told you not to fool around in the rain." he whispered.

She glanced up at Hongjoong with a death stare, a shiver meandering in his nerves.

He sunk to her eye level, eyes studying the notes on the sheet. "I'll drop off some food and medicine later tonight." he whispered as his fingers paged through the sheet. His finger landed on a highlighted line. "That's dee-over-eff sharp."

"Thanks." she muttered, fingers adjusting the distortion level on her amPlug.

It was the night of the Waldorf Music Academy mixer. From nerves of steel to absolute anxietude, Y/N was trying to regain her composure. She had spent months preparing for this night. Hair and makeup to shoes and dress. Counting in her head to calm herself, fingers tapping incessantly on her thigh.

"I'll see you later, okay?" Solana rubbed Y/N on the back and gave her a small smile.

Y/N nodded as she watched Solana walk down the steps into the hall, her red gown in hand to keep from tripping. She stood at the entrance, inspecting the venue. She wore a blush pink tulle dress that halted above her knees, a bejeweled belt hugging her waist. Her beige stilettos with gemstone straps decorated her feet. A white and yellow diamond négligée hung befittingly around her neck, sure to draw attention to her chest. The necklace was paired with yellow diamond studs and bracelet. Her getup was completed with a beige clutch. She was magnificent. breathtaking really.

Hongjoong sat in his car that was parked across the street, watching her stand frozen at the door. He wore a midnight blue regular fit suit with a notch lapel, the top three buttons of his dress shirt undone. A white pocket square adorned his chest, and dark brown oxfords to complete the look. His split dye hair was slicked back, a black strand dancing on his forehead and his undercut fresh as it could be.

He exited his car and made his way across the street, into the building. His heart was thumping faster the closer he approached. Of all the beauty he had come across in his lifetime, nothing and no one ever measured up to Y/N. He stood beside her, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"You are beyond... mesmerizing." he smiled. "You're very beautiful, Y/N."

She returned the gesture. "Thank you, Hong." she playfully nudged at his shoulder. "You clean up really well. I see why Kathy's always making passes."

They both chuckled lightheartedly, easing the atmosphere. Most of the anxiety that held her mind hostage had slowly begun to fall away with every second Hongjoong stood beside her.

"Too bad for her, she's not you."

He held her gaze. She looked away, heat rushing to her cheeks. Time felt as if it had slowed down.

"Just breathe, okay? You'll blow them away, that I'm certain of." he gave her a wink before descending down the staircase. "Come find me if you need a pep talk."

[ . . . ]

It had been about two hours since the mixer started. Chatting up a myriad of industry officials. She wrapped up her conversation with Joe Satriani after discussing his thought process while composing, and his experience mentoring Kirk Hammett and Steve Vai. He gave her some much needed pointers, also offering his number so he could tutor her in the future. She humbly accepted the offer, as she walked away.

She spotted Hongjoong sitting at the bar, alone. He was downing a glass of whiskey, uninterested in the event. Chaperoning was his least favourite part of the job. He called on the bartender, shaking the glass a few inches above the counter, signalling for a refill. Y/N sat on the stool beside him and ordered a long island iced tea. The bartender positioned the beverage in front of her and disappeared to tend to other guests.

"Enjoying the evening?" Hongjoong downed his whiskey in one go. "Saw you chatting up Satriani."

Y/N twirled the straw in her drink. "He said he'd tutor me after I graduate."

He looked down at his glass and smiled halfheartedly. "Guess you're outgrowing me. I've taught you all that I could."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a minute or so.

"All this talk of graduation..." she released a shaky breath. "I realised how much I love having you around, even though it doesn't seem so. I'm ready to take the next step, if you feel like you've waited long enough."

He glanced up and saw her looking down at her drink. He knew it took a great deal of courage for her to bear her heart out. The step he'd been waiting for. She finally opened up her heart to him. All he could think of were the ways he wanted to show her new experiences and above it all, how love could be liberating and safe. He was determined to create an environment where their mutual admiration for each other could be cultivated.

Hongjoong looked back down at his drink. "You have no idea how badly I've been wanting to hear that. Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack."

He reached into his pant pocket. Presenting to her, he discreetly put a pink rubber device in her hand. She looked at her hand, her eyebrows creasing with confusion. In no less than a second, it dawned on her as her eyes were bewildered and her mouth grew into an 'O'. She swiftly dumped the device into her clutch, eye laser-focused on Hongjoong.

He looked her straight on, expressionless. "What are you still doing here?" his voice hushed.

[ . . . ]

She jerked up in her seat, the people around her the table casting confused glances. A simple "Shiver down the spine" was enough for them to brush her off, giving her reassuring nods. Her legs were shaking and she could barely hold the fork in her hand. When the tables were cleared, she took it as an opportunity to bury her face in her arms. Her heart was beating irregularly. Her breathing was all over the place.

Solana came back to their table and sat beside Y/N. She heard her sniffling and grew concerned. Her hand rubbed her back as she leaned in.

"Babe, what's wrong?" Solana asked innocently.

"It's nothing. Don't worry." she said with a tremble laced in her tone.

"Are you sure? You're literally shaking."

Why wouldn't she shake? Any time she felt as though it was all over, Hongjoong would crank up the setting of the remote-controlled vibrator. She was pooling at her core and her clitoris was throbbing to the point of detonation. One wrong move, she would probably collapse. She avoided being on her feet for the time being, worried her legs may give out. All she wanted was for the evening to end.

And it was far from.

Hongjoong was seated two tables away, smirking cunningly to himself. Everytime she lurched in her seat, he stifled a laugh. Having his way with her was what he considered his "single greatest achievement". He had her in his grasp and he wasn't loosening his grip for as long as he lived.

Y/N sat up, wiping the tears off her face. She put her finger on Solana's mouth, confusing her, Solana looking down at her finger.

"I'm f-fine, just... shush. I need quiet." Y/N hissed. Her eye caught the ebon stone on her finger. She squinted as she focused on it. "Er- where'd you get the rock?"

Solana pursed her lips, eyes wandering. "I, uh... a gift."

Her clutch was buzzing on the table, catching her attention. She took out her phone, her eyes greeted by a text message notification.

Hongjoong: i'm turning it off. gather yourself and meet me in room 1205 in 30 min.

Hongjoong: and DON'T take it out unless i say so.

She slipped her phone back into her clutch. As she was about let out a sigh of relief, the device went off one last time, prompting her jerk up again. Hongjoong listened to her quietly whimper as he walked past her table, not giving her a second look.

"I'll probe you later." she tilted her head to the side. "You don't mind going home alone, do you?"

Solana shook her head. "I'm meeting somebody in the hotel in..." she looked at the time on her phone. "Right now, actually. I'll see you tomorrow."

Solana stood up and swiped her purse off the table, flattening whatever creases she could find on her gown. She took out a tube of lip gloss, glistening her lips before making her exit. "Kiss kiss."

She was greeted with a 'floor 12' silver lettering when she stepped out of the elevator. Taking small strides to the room, she stood in front of the door. 1205. The grip on her clutch tightening. Deep breath in, shaky breath out. Hand balled into a fist, her knuckles met the door. Two knocks. The device still buried inside her buzzed to life, forcing an involuntarily half-loud whimper out of her. Her knees buckled and she held herself up using the door frame.

The door opened, her eyes landing on a grinning Hongjoong. He clutched her waist, pulling her into the room. She threw her arm over his shoulder, legs trembling with every step. Her clutch thrown on the coffee table. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hands squeezing her hips and face buried in her stomach. She held herself up with his shoulders, staring at the top his head. He was inhaling every bit of her Issey Miyake perfume.

"Stand back a bit for me, will you?"

Y/N took a few steps back, making space between her and Hongjoong. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest, a scowl evident on her face. He looked her up and down, a lustful yet dark gaze focused on her being. Their eyes competing with one another. Tension thick in the atmosphere.

Bzzzz.

She whimpered painfully, doubling over and supporting herself with her hands on her knees. "You said you'd stop."

"Long enough for you to be able to get here." he shrugged. "There's five settings on this thing and I've only taken it to four. How long is it gonna take for you to cave under five?"

"I came, like, twice in the hall. What more do you want?" she growled. She bent down to undo the straps of her heels and set them aside.

The vibrator went up to the fifth setting immediately after Hongjoong brought it back to life. "That's one hell of an attitude for someone who's under my mercy."

"I'm sorry." she cried.

It seemed the longer the buzzing went on, the more her legs would tremble. She stood by the coffee table, holding herself up. The tears mixed with sweat beads came down her face endlessly. Counting to a hundred and back in her head, trying to keep her mind off her situation. The feeling of her heart thumping violently against her chest was making her panic. Her entire body was shaking.

"Call it. I'll stop." Hongjoong deigned.

It had only been three minutes at this point. Two orgasms had washed over her. A third one was quickly materializing. An tight sensation taking up residence in her stomach. She managed stand upright. Pacing up and down in front of Hongjoong. Fisting two handfuls of her hair, she was breathing erratically, tears never seizing. As her third orgasm crept in, she bowed with her hands on her knees. Her cries more audible this time.

Down her leg came some of her nectar, underwear beyond drenched. Catching Hongjoong's attention, head cocked to the side and eyebrow arched. A smile mixed with satisfaction and bewilderment appeared. He leaned forward to get a closer look. Her knees buckled as she brought down her entire body weight. Hands pressed to the floor, her crying grew stronger.

Trying to string together a coherent sentence, unable to find her words. She managed, "Please..."

The device died. Hongjoong slipped the remote into his pocket. He went down on his knees, cupping her face and wiping away her tears. He planted his lips on hers, burying her head in his shoulder. As he took his hand into her underwear, he accidentally grazed her overly sensitive bud. Whimpering and jerking up. His fingers journeyed up inside her, retrieving the vibrator. Smeared with her juices, he brought it to his mouth and licked off the residue.

She casted him a disgusted look, eyeing him through her wet lashes and glossy eyes. Unsure if she was aroused or found it off-putting to watch her boyfriend slurp her discharge, her core released a bit more of her juices in response. Talk about cognitive dissonance. Hongjoong chuckled, as he put the toy into his pocket. He grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her. His tongue requesting entry into her mouth. She tasted herself on him.

He draped his arms around her waist, undoing her belt. His fingers unzipped her dress. He stood up, bringing her up along with. The dress pooled around her legs as she stepped out of. He sat down on the bed, straddling her around his waist. She began undoing his dress shirt, then traveled down his pants. Her fingers fumbling the zip. He smacked her ass, making her moan into their kiss.

"Five-seven with the confidence of six-foot tall man." she spoke against his lips, her hand caressing his throbbing cock. "I admire that. I think it's hot."

He flicked his finger over her throbbing bud, a yelp filling his ears. "Gutsy, when I quite literally have you in the palm of my hand."

He grabbed her waist and pushed her off, taking off his pants. He sat back down on the bed. Her eyes stuck on his member. Smooth with a vein running along the base, head pink and leaking with precum. Girthy and lengthy. Her mind was racing through all the possibilities of how he'd make her fall apart. She licked her lower lip.

"Come on, take a seat." he coaxed her, pulling her hand. His other hand pumping to get him harder. "I'm gonna stuff you so good, baby."

He spun her around, her back turned to him. His hands planted firmly on her waist, he slowly descended her on his cock. Both of their bodies erupting from the slight contact. As Hongjoong was taking deep breaths, Y/N whimpered at the feel of his stretch. Her walls clamped so tight, barely allowing him entrance. Hongjoong was careful to not force her down hastily.

Patience wears thin for everyone, it's ruled by circumstance. As appreciated as it was, she was peeved. He was taking his sweet time, enjoying her feel. She balanced herself using his thighs and forced herself all the way down, until he bottomed her out.

"Will you relax? I can feel your heart beating on my dick." Hongjoong groaned when she fit him in, his arms wrapped around her stomach.

She gave a light chuckle, through shallow breaths. "Sorry Hong, you were taking too long."

After a few breathers, she began bouncing on his cock. His hands playing with her breasts, fondling away at her nipples. Her moans filled the silence in the room. The constant squelching replaying in both their heads. His grunting had her spiraling. She wanted to hear more. Kegeling on his cock. His grip on her breasts growing tighter. He traced wet kisses on her back, inevitably sinking his teeth into her skin. Marks plastered all over her back.

The warmth and slick that encapsulated his cock, paired with forceful clamping, it was coming. It wasn't long until he was painting her walls. He stilled her on his cock while he spasmed inside her. Grunting her name, over and over, in her ear.

He took her face by the jaw and cocked it to the mirror in front of them. "Don't worry, baby. You'll get yours."

He spread her legs open, rubbing the inside of her thigh. Trailing kisses on her back and shoulder. Her jaw still in his hand, his other ventured to her core. As he played with her bud, she squirmed in his hold. Any time she tried looking away, he'd force her to look at the mirror.

As she closed her eyes, tears running, he said, "Open your eyes, and don't make me ask again." he whispered into her ear, shivers traveling down her spine.

Her chest heaving up and down as she watched herself in the mirror, falling apart in his hold. Her cunt squeezing his cock in intervals. The decibels of her moans escalating. Materialising her nth orgasm of the night. He felt her clamping down, reporting on her nearing release. She mumbled incoherent strings of nothing, Hongjoong's name caught in the mix. Her head slumping down, he forced her gaze into the mirror.

Hand still toying with her, he spoke softly into her ear as she wept, "I want you to have this image of yourself engraved so deeply into your subconscious, not even a lobotomy could make you forget."

Her moaning grew and her clenching got tighter.

Planting a kiss on her neck, he said, "Cum on daddy's cock, baby. I know you can."

She held Hongjoong's gaze in the mirror as she unraveled at his words. Shallow breaths were all she could manage. Her body quaking as she creamed on his cock. He stood up, his cock slipping out of her cunt. Arousal dripping on the floor and going down her leg.

On all fours on the bed, facing the mirror, he slotted himself between her legs. His hand pumping to get himself hard again. His tip running over her folds, gathering their combined juices. Spanking her ass just to behold the recoil. His tip was sliding in and out of her cunt, teasing her. She was anxious for what was to come.

Easing into her wet hole, he buried his cock deep inside. This position was sure to have him grazing her cervix and hitting her erogenous zone at a pristine angle. She moaned into the sheets. He leaned forward, taking her hands and pinning them down on her lower back with one hand. The other hand smacking her ass before squeezing her hip for balance.

His thrusts started off slow and steady. Every pounding had her ass jiggling. His balls grazing her clit. As he picked up speed, the sound of skin clapping, Y/N moaning Hongjoong's name and Hongjoong grunting profanities occupied the room's atmosphere. Sure enough to disturb the neighbours but who cares? The bed wanted in on the action as it was vocal too, bed frame squeaking with every powerful pound.

"My pretty little slut." he panted, breathlessly. "You love daddy's cock, my perfect little whore?"

She moaned. "Yes baby, I do."

He spanked her ass once more. "You're more beautiful as my fucktoy, princess. I'm gonna fill you up with all my seed."

He slowed down a bit and released her hands. His hand wrapped around her neck, careful not to bother her négligée. She brought him up to his chest, his other hand on her stomach. Pumping in and out of her. She clenched around, this new angle had his cock brushing her sweet spot. He knew he had her in the right position when her tears started welling.

His lips pressed to her ear and grip getting tight, he grunted, "I may have everyone wrapped around my finger but I need you to be obsessed. I want to be the center of your universe. I want you to get sick at the idea of a man who's not me."

"You don't have to ask twice." she moaned, her hands grappling at his hips.

The last few brushes past her sensitive zone played around with her eyes, she was seeing stars before her eyes. Her nails sinking into his skin. Incoherent mumbles leaving her lips. The visual of her tits bouncing as he pounded her into oblivion, aroused her. As his hips were bucking, short thrusting into her, he delivered his final load for the night. She soon came undone on his cock, her cunt squeezing every bit of him out.

Once the high started subsiding, still inside her, he laid her on her back. Her legs laced around his waist, he massaged the inside of her thighs. They looked at each other lovingly through smiles, though hers was dopey and his smug.

"Thank you for giving our relationship a real shot. I know it wasn't easy for you." he cooed. "I promise I won't waste your time. And I definitely won't cage you."

Her hand ran over her stomach, rubbing circles. "I trust you, Hong. I'm not sure of a lot of things in my life but not you. You stayed when most men would've left. You waited for me and held my hand while I prepared to take that leap."

He leaned in for a kiss, her hands caressing his back. He hovered over her, bucking her hips up. "And I would do it all over again."

Afternoon had come and at around 12:30, they found themselves standing at opposite sides in the elevator. The clicking from Hongjoong's phone filling the silence. Y/N was picking and prodding at the pimple forming on her cheek. As the elevator continued descending down the building, it stopped at another floor. The doors opened and an awkward silence fell.

Everyone's eyes dancing between one another, exchanging shocked glances. Yunho and Solana stepped into the elevator, Solana standing beside Y/N and Yunho beside Hongjoong.

A sardonic smile spread across Y/N's face. "So that's why you were bunking classes..."

Solana bowed her head shamefully, heat racing to her cheeks. "I didn't know how to tell you." she spoke with a hoarse voice.

Y/N and Hongjoong exchanged bemused glances. Hongjoong cleared his throat, smirking as he looked at Yunho. "Eventful night, I see..."

Yunho's ears turned red, face turned towards the floor. Hongjoong and Yunho spoke amongst themselves, as did Y/N and Solana. The rest of the ride down was fairly normal, the awkwardness no longer felt. As the elevator stopped at the ground floor, Y/N and Solana walked a few feet ahead of their professors.

As they stood on the other side of the street, about to head their separate ways, Hongjoong stepped away as a call came in. He spoke on the phone for a minute or so then returned.

"Yunho, you mind taking Y/N home for me? There's something I need to get to." Hongjoong spoke with urgency in his tone. He pecked Y/N on the cheek before leaving. "I'll call you tonight."

Yunho opened the door to the driver's side, halfway inside. "No problem. Girls, in the car."

On the ride back to the complex, Solana asked Yunho to get them takeaways. He went into a drive-thru and journeyed back to their home. The car was parked at the gate. As they were about to exit, Yunho stopped them.

"You cannot, under any circumstance, tell anyone about last night. All of us could get in trouble." he spoke authoritatively, face stern to emphasise the urgency of his words.

The girls nodded in unison. Y/N took the bag of food and exited the vehicle. Solana remaining behind to share a few more moments with Yunho. Ascending the stairs, her eyes land on a brown box at their doorstep. As she approached, Solana came trailing behind. Both wearing confused looks.

"Were we expecting a delivery?" Solana said.

Y/N shook her head, handing over the takeaways to Solana as she inched closer to the box. She scooped it up off the floor and inspected it. Box nestled under her arm as she searched for the keys, she unlocked the door. They stepped into their apartment, Solana setting down the food on the counter. Y/N grabbed a pair of scissors from the kitchen drawer. As she opened the box filled with packing peanuts, there was a card inside with her name on it.

"Guess it's for you." Solana shrugged. "What's it say?"

"'Thought you might love this. I have a feeling that it's right up there on your list of interests. -Hongjoong'." she read the card out loud.

Solana screamed, her arms wrapped around Y/N's shoulders as she jumped up and down. "Oh-em-gee, open it! Open it!"

She set the card aside and lifted the package inside the box. As she removed the yellow packing paper and bubble wrap, she felt the air leave her lungs. She held up the vinyl record a few inches away, inspecting the black cover with red detailing. Her eyes focused on the two women on the cover, finger running over their name at the very top. In awe and all, she could find words to speak.

"No. Fucking. Way." Solana exasperated. "I couldn't even get you that for your birthday."

Y/N was brought out of her trance. "I never told him about Strawberry Switchblade."

They looked at each other, eyebrows creased down the middle. "Then how'd he know?"

She shrugged, eyes still inspecting the vinyl.

[ . . . ]

The rest of the day went on as normal. The girls spent their afternoon on the couch, watching 'Our Blues'. Food spread out on the coffee table. As the final episode concluded, Solana cleared the living room. Y/N went into her bedroom, moonlight illuminating the space. She pushed the covers aside and laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. Her phone vibrated on the nightstand as it rang.

Hongjoong.

She answered.

"So you remember that call I had earlier?"

"Yeah? Who was it?"

"I got scouted by an executive, said a doe sent them my raw recordings. They want me to produce Rihanna's next album... in Amsterdam City, but I told them I'd think about it. Said I'd run it by you."

"Hong, that's great! What do you need my opinion for?" she sat up on the bed. "Plus, Rihanna's been on hiatus for almost a decade. If this album blows up, everyone's gonna come looking for your expertise."

"We just started dating, I don't think distance would be a great idea." he sighed. "Y/N, you're the only person who knows about those recordings."

There was silence for a few moments. "I just thought you're too good for WMA, so I sent your work to as many labels as I could." she frowned a bit as she laid back down. "As for distance, I called Satriani and his people said he'll take me on after graduation... in Ivory Canyon, it's fifteen minutes away from Amsterdam. If you leave now to get settled, I'll join you in a few months."

"And you'd be okay with it?"

"We've waited this long, what's four more months?"

"How'd you like the gift?"

"Beyond love it. I've been looking at it all day, can't believe it's in my hands." she smiled as the fluttering in her stomach got stronger. "But how'd you know?"

There was rustling on his end as he laid himself down in his bed. "I noticed that you always wear polka-dot ribbons in your hair that match your outfits, sometimes with mesh flowers. Never got that."

"They're pretty." she whined.

"They are. But when I saw you at the Molchat Doma show and you mentioned Selofan... it clicked." he chuckled. "I looked up eighties goth bands that wore polka-dots and lo and behold-"

"Strawberry Switchblade. No one I've met has ever got that reference, not even Solana." she said softly. "Thank you, Joong."

"You're welcome, princess. And thank you for sending out my work, I'm usually big on risks but this..." he smirked to himself.

"You deserve somebody who'll give you a push whenever you're not sure of yourself. You're good at what you do and the world needs to hear it."

He released a deep breath. "I've got tickets to a Sextile show next Saturday."

"It's a date."

#ateez #kim hongjoong #hongjoong smut #hongjoong fluff #roguehongsami

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xxgothchatonxx · 3 months

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In honour of what would have been her 45th birthday (actually, i'm a day late - January 16) I want to take a moment to appreciate Aaliyah as Queen Akasha in Queen of the Damned.

It's no secret that while the film itself is... yeah, anyway- Aaliyah has been continuously praised for her performance as the titular queen. And I think that praise is 100% justified.

She was fantastic in this role. She was so sensual, powerful, and most importantly, she had presence. (Which is more than I can say for the so-called 'real' lead but i digress...) Every time she was on-screen, she completely owned the scene. That scene when she enters the bar and completely annihilates everyone and everything in there is just perfect. It's the two best aspects of the film combined in one scene - Aaliyah and Jonathan Davis' music.

It's not hard to see why Aaliyah as Akasha is still considered to be a horror icon over 20 years later.

#vampire chronicles #queen of the damned #aaliyah

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 5 months

Note

Jack Harlow x reader. “You’re so cute!”

While Brooklyn took after you, Aaliyah was like Jack in so many ways. They were both big goofballs that loved to make the room laugh, selective (picky) eaters, and could fall asleep pretty much anywhere. You loved seeing the embodiment of the love of your life in your little girl, but for Jack, it came with a whole host of worries he was unprepared for.

Jack's vision issues had plagued him since he was born, and for the most part, he'd learned to adjust very well, but he never really thought that his lazy eye could be genetic.

As soon as your pediatrician mentioned that Aaliyah was showing early signs of Amblyopia as an infant, Jack was concerned. You tried to reassure him that it was just a chance, and as soon as she was old enough you put her in vision therapy which helped a lot, but when Aaliyah turned five, you and Jack decided it was best for her to get an eye patch to help with development.

Jack had bad memories of being teased for his eye patch when he was growing up, so when the day came to take Aaliyah to the optometrist, he was a nervous wreck.

Jack was uncharacteristically quiet the morning of the appointment. He was already in the car as you were getting Aaliyah ready and said goodbye to Brooklyn who was staying behind with her grandparents.

He white knuckled the steering wheel on the drive there, a hand on your thigh squeezing erratically as he glanced at Aaliyah in the rearview mirror, who was blissfully unaware of what was going on.

"Jack." You patted his hand affectionately a couple of times, bringing his attention to you. "Sorry." He tried to pull away, but you held his hand there with your own. "No need to apologize. I'm nervous too." He gave you a soft smile as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles.

The first part of the appointment was spent explaining more about Aaliyah's condition, and why the eye patch was going to be beneficial for her. Aaliyah was quickly getting anxious, unable to sit still, so the receptionist took her to look at some new glasses, which she was also going to need.

"There's going to be a rough adjustment period." The optometrist explained that kids didn't always like wearing the eye patch, and knowing that Aaliyah was sensitive to change and new things, it might take longer for her to get used to it. You watched as Jack shifted uncomfortably in his seat, crushing the paperwork in his fist.

"Look, mama!" Aaliyah returned to the exam room with a pair of lavender purple glasses, complete with a strap to hold them in place. "Those are so pretty, Aaliyah. I love them." You tried to distract her from Jack who was visibly uncomfortable. He pushed his glasses up and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on from nerves.

"The next part will just be examining Aaliyah's eyes and fitting her for the eye patch." The doctor directed you to the exam chair, but as you tried to walk Aaliyah over, she hesitated, and ran over to Jack. "I don't wanna do it", she mumbled into Jack's hoodie, hiding her face in his neck.

Jack took a deep breath, and stood, holding his daughter in his arms. "C'mon, baby. We'll do it together." He sat down in the exam chair with Aaliyah in his lap. She started to cry as she saw all of the scary looking instruments in front of her. "Its too scarwy, daddy", she mumbled out between tears.

"Look, Daddy will do it first." Aaliyah watched as Jack took off his glasses and had his eyes examined by the doctor, and she quickly learned that she had nothing to fear. She sat perfectly still as the doctor took a look at her, holding Jack's hand the entire time. "You did such a good job, Liyah", Jack praised her, peppering her face with kisses, making her giggle.

All that was left to do was for Aaliyah to choose the eye patch design that she wanted. Jack walked her through all of her options while you held back, so happy that the appointment was going smoother than you anticipated. She finally decided on an Elsa one from her favorite movie Frozen, and only cried a little bit when they placed it on.

Brooklyn was waiting at the front door when you arrived home, and Aaliyah ran to her immediately, wrapping her arms around her sister. "Look, Brookie!" She pointed to her eye patch, a huge grin on her face. "I love it! You look so pretty! I love your glasses too." Brooklyn exclaimed to her sister, both of them rushing inside the house. Aaliyah spent the next couple of minutes telling Maggie and Brian all about how brave she was at her appointment.

As soon as the two of you were alone in the kitchen, Maggie and Brian having left with the girls to treat them to ice cream, you opened your arms to Jack who collapsed in your hold. "You did a good job, daddy."

"When she started crying, I thought I was gonna cry", he admitted, resting his forehead on your shoulder. You rubbed his back sympathetically, your other hand in his hair. "But you didn't, and now she knows she has nothing to be scared of."

He looked up at you, his face riddled with worry. "What if they tease her at school?"

"Something tell me her father isn't going to let that happen." Jack nodded in agreement. "Damn right."

"I've got something that I think will make you feel better. Your mom gave them to me." You ran out to the hallway and returned with an envelope. You pulled out a picture of a young Jack, no older than Aaliyah was now, with a cute Pokemon eyepatch over his left eye. "I think if you show these to Aaliyah, she'll feel even more confident about her new look. She looks up to you, babe. Your little mini-me."

Jack took the picture from you as he scratched at his jawline. "Ha! I forgot all about my Pokemon eye patch. I look pretty cool!" Jack was beaming, which made you smile. "You're so cute! You still are." You wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

"Thank you, baby." Jack mumbled against your mouth before your lips connected again.

#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jackharlow #jackman harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic

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booasaur · 8 months

Note

Can you imagine the horror Cruz felt the past few days, every day, unexpectedly falling deeply in love with this beautiful, lovely and kind woman and then the knowledge that she has to kill her father, actually take the life from someone this kind girl who loves her cares about. And having this conflict, this horror eating at her, corrupting her love for Aaliyah until she couldn't touch her without feeling all the guilt and disgust at herself. Now she also has regret to live with.

Oh, anon, I've been thinking of nothing else!

I was actually afraid after we left Cruz watching Joe's supercut of Amrohi's biggest hits, ep 8 would have her buying into the mission so it'd be more of an action oriented spy thing with Aaliyah only eventually adding a last minute conflict, but that wasn't the case at all! My girl remained cold to it and it stayed only a mission she had to carry out, nothing she believed in.

What's really struck me is that despite Joe and Kaitlyn's years more of experience and close dealings with the politicians and businessmen who showed this was all a game, Cruz saw the truth of the situation more clearly than they ever did, just by listening to Aaliyah. She was able to contrast both versions she was hearing and extract the reality in a way they never could because they never cared about the other side.

Cruz is terrible for undercover work because she treats her target like a human. That's really what it comes down to, right. She saw Aaliyah as a person and valued what she thought and felt and now here we are. And the worst thing for her is that Aaliyah didn't get through to her by being a funny, charming smokeshow (or not JUST that, lol), she was kind and vulnerable. Cruz may be bad at being a spy but she's a great soldier (as we saw in that kitchen, whew) and Aaliyah's exactly the kind of person she wants to protect. Credit to the show for letting us see how agonizing it was for Cruz to go against all her morals and instincts and everything in her to do this mission. The fact that she fell in love, needed and was needed by this one person, the tragedy of it all.

And actually, credit to Laysla De Oliveira as well! I've been praising Stephanie Nur a lot so far and as I mentioned, no shade to Laysla, but Cruz has been quite opaque and hard to read, as intended, I'm sure, she's supposed to be this tough marine AND is playing an undercover role, she mostly just reflected what Aaliyah threw at her. But these last two eps, gosh, she really brought ALL these additional layers. It really sold the romance, like, first, she was NOT faking in those last two eps, but just how guilty and anxious she was, and the anger and self-loathing at the end? Even that moment on the balcony looking out where she was all rueful, it was more subtle but still so expressive:

Honestly, I've actually really loved Aaliyah's character and was waiting for the finale to see if she lived so I could add her to my fave characters list, because I'm not gonna add a character who's built up just for an extra tragic death, but I've ended up adding BOTH. The strength of character Cruz showed in the end to realize and accept what's she'd done, and the kindness in believing both Aaliyah and even her dad deserved more grace, I found myself genuinely loving her by the end.

I really can't tell if she's going to return, but I hope so, she deserves more closure than that, they both do.

#replies #femslash related stuff #Anonymous #sent on 20230904 #5 #special ops: lioness #special ops lioness #special ops lioness 1x08 #aaliyah x cruz

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neowinestainedress · 7 months

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between us — jn.s (preview n visuals)

pairing: husband!johnny suh x wife!oc x fem!reader | professor!johnny x lawyer!oc 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: in the full fic | READ HERE

THE CHARACTERS

the suhs

the reader

PREVIEW

“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 while 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.”

Yet, you can’t let it go.

if you want to be added to the taglist comment under this post! general taglist: @froggyforyoongi ; @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo

#nct fanfiction #johnny smut #johnny suh smut #johnny hard hours #johnny hard thoughts #mxfxf #bisexual reader #black reader #bi reader #nct 127 smut #nct smut #johnny scenarios #nct x black!reader #nct x black reader #fic: between us #between us visuals

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portraitofariel · 1 month

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If you could write a scene for S3 of The Bear, what would it be?

Here’s mine:

Wonderwall

The Bear staff celebrate their successful first month of service with a bonfire hosted by Sugar and Pete. Syd and Carm have mounting tension since F&F Night that has yet to be resolved, but they come together beautifully for the Grand Opening. Syd and Nat continue to grow closer, while the distance between her and Carmy widens.

By this point Carmy and Claire reconcile, and get back together after the Grand Opening. Syd finds out one night when Claire shows up after closing to pick up Carmy. Something … in her chest tightens at the sight of them together again. Feeling sentimental, Syd makes her lamb ragu and brings it to Nat’s.

The bonfire is packed with everybody eating, drinking, and playing music. Everything from classic Latin tunes like La Lupe’s Tirana, to classic rock like John Denver’s Country Road. Richie brings a guitar and encourages as many people as possible to join in (fun fact: Ebon is a talented singer). He sings a heartfelt rendition of Blue Ridge Mountains by Fleet Foxes. Knowing this one of Carmy’s favorite songs, the old friends lock eyes as the words flow. It’s Richie’s way of apologizing for F&F Night.

Inebriated and feeling her social battery drain with each interaction, Syd puts some of her music in the queue—Pete is “DJing” in the form of playing songs on a Beats Pill as he grills more food. Syd’s lamb ragu is gone in the first hour; Syd tries not to notice Carmy eating her dish but he doesn’t say anything to her at the bonfire. She doesn’t know why she even cares.

One of Syd’s requests, I Know by Dionne Farris, plays and Nat catches her absentmindedly singing the bridge. She’s taken aback by Syd’s stunning voice and encourages her to join in on group karaoke. After drunkenly badgering her, she eventually convinces Syd to sing aloud. Nat’s good spirit and positive vibes from everyone else persuades Syd to give it a shot. She chooses At Your Best by Aaliyah—perfectly singing the opening verse and chorus with the voice of an angel, with her eyes closed the whole time. When she opens them, she can feel Carmy watching her with an intensity she never felt before. But it dies the moment Claire lays her head on his shoulder, and Syd averts her eyes to Nat. Everyone erupts in applause and praises the unexpected vocals from her. She’d be blushing if her complexion allowed. After awkwardly thanking them, she plops down next to Connor and Daniella across the fire from Carm.

Last song of the night is the iconic Wonderwall by Oasis. With Richie on the guitar, every staff member drunkenly belts the track. When it reaches the chorus, Carm and Syd lock eyes across the fire. The flames ignite a vulnerability in their eyes as they look at each other, until Syd is the one to break contact. Her lips part as she blinks her emotions away, and gets up to grab one last Peroni. Carmy is shaken inside, and caught off guard when Claire’s hand touches his shoulder. She asks him if he’s all right with a smile and he returns the gesture, kissing her as if nothing happened but he can feel his pulse quickening.

As they get up to leave, Carmy overhears Connor offering Syd a ride home and his chest tightens. The two then say goodbyes to the hosts and head to Connor’s sedan.

Later that night Carmy is in bed with a sleeping Claire, post-coitus. He lays there wide awake for a while until a familiar voice appears in his mind—the lyrics to At Your Best calling out to him like a lullaby. Minutes later he falls asleep.

#archive of our own #the bear #the bear hulu #the bear fx #sydcarmy #sydney adamu #carmy x sydney #syd adamu #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmy the bear #syd x carmy #you with the dark curls #you with the watercolor eyes #platonic and messy #charged and sexy #chefs kiss #fanfic #headcanon

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zixuo · 2 years

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| MOO FOR ME BABY !

!!! WARNINGS !!!

sub! idia, gender-neutral leaning towards fem reader, mommy kink, mentions of praising and degrading, cumming inside

Notes !! “I lowkey didn’t wanna post this but aaaa I love the whole cute format thing- also my friends recommended I do this awhile tumblr thing anyways. This is also kinda short and not proof read well, I thank my friend Aaliyah for giving me the warnings though-”

Imagine idia in like this cow Bikini with the little cow ears and tail.. he doesn’t tell you about it either, he bought it months ago and was originally gonna give it to you but simply forgot and decided one day “fuck it.. might as well try it on.” he put it on soooo slowly since he’s so sensitive in his chest, trying his best not to whimper or whine while you’re in the next room doing god knows what-

And then the door opens.

You walk out, as you both make eye contact and stare at eachother, exchanging a few blinks.

“Y/N! IT’S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE I WAS JUST-“

“…”

“I was- I was..”

“Idia you don’t have to lie to mommy.”

That let out a surprised squeak out of him, was he really about to get dommed? His first time too? He expected to be the one to fuck you over a counter but this is definitely more embarrassing…

dot..dot..dot

“NGH- mommy- mommy pleaseplease- slowdown- s’ too much- toomuchtoomuch- need to- need to come so bad in you- please mommy-“

You had him sitting on the edge of the bed, bouncing up and down on his cock while his hands were tied behind his back, a blindfold on his face while you watched his expression, praising him and degrading him in the same sentences that made him twitch and feel closer and closer to releasing into you.

“You’re so good, so good for mommy yeah? You don’t wanna be a bad boy and cum inside mommy without permission right? Only bad sluts do that right? You wanna be a good slut for mommy hm?”

“Yes- so ggood.. so good for m- so good for mommy.. not bad.. good s’ so.. so good.. so warm inside mommy..”

#idia smut #idia shroud #twisted wonderland #smut #mommy #female dominance #gender neautral reader

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brennenscolby · 2 years

Text

Hide and Seek. 2

•warnings + content: breeding kink, impregnation, implied baby trapping, fingering, edging, dacryphilia, creampie, groping, voyeurism, breast fetishism, cunnilingus, masturbation, breathplay, voice kink, bulge, dirty talk, edging, hickies and bruises, thigh kink, MINORS DON'T INTERACT. 18+.

Suggested tracks: John Blaze - Timbaland ft Aaliyah + Missy Elliot

Twenty eight - The Weeknd [slowed]

Love lockdown - Kanye West

•summary: geto never gets to have any fun outside of work. He decided to change that the second he met a pretty little thing like you… he never anticipated on getting so attracted.

•pairings: gang leader! + stalker!geto suguru x shy!chubby!reader.

•genre: mentions of blood/gore, guns, weapons, violence, yandere tendencies, dubcon, sugar baby themes, dub-con, stalker tendencies, body-worship, praise, obsession/infatuation, possessive!geto, smut/bdsm, sub!reader, Dom!geto, roleplay, CNC, consensual sex, pussydrunk!geto, aftercare, sweet!geto after rough!Geto, simp!geto, deranged tendencies, missionary sex.

One • Two Three

•wc: 3.8k

Geto didn’t anticipate his dreams to come crashing down so suddenly. A trip to America for a promotional gala demanded he’d abandon the comfort of his Tokyo penthouse for five days the most, with the first day, being directly after he saw you. Life’s uncontrollable urge to interrupt might’ve slowed down his process to pursue, but he simply found himself replaying the feverish daze from the night before as a constant reminder throughout his grueling day.

Business went good as usual, -with the exception of occasional beheadings-. Acts of violence were never premeditated, but he couldn’t possibly let dealers who’ve cheated him off the hook so easily, could he? A statement had to be made. A twinkle of dependency forced him to realize his rage at work was only a catalyst from missing you. Over the harsh moments of disdain and responsibility, while work appeased his ambitions, he was more than fervid to return and greet you.

However, walking up to your door unannounced would surely arouse suspicion, which is exactly why he made his best friend, Satoru, collect as much intel on you as he possibly could. The exact moment he shared his vision with his closest companion, Satoru’s maniacal expression mirrored his own.

While the ordinary person would express disgust and put an end to his outrageous requests and endeavors, Geto knew Satoru could care less. Besides, best friends are supposed to support each other, right?

Ranging from apartment number, occupation, and your own name, he was able to indulge in the fruits of his labor. He decided to discard your name, in hopes of getting it out of you—only if you’d provide him with the chance to a date. He figured it’d be more intimate if you at least met each other on a first-name basis. On top of that, there was one thing his efforts couldn’t devise, and that was your personality. Over despair and anguish, he hopelessly romanticized the idea of someone as angelic as you falling for a deranged lunatic like him. For the first time in a long time, Geto found himself wanting to offer everything he possibly could, in order for you to be his.

As he did practically every time he came home, he arrived in the wee hours of the morning, breakfast already prepared by his housemaid before she departed from her shift. The air wafted with the familiar imprint of his cologne, linked with the intimate scent of his wine. While he looked okay on the outside, hysterical turmoil twisted within. He itched to hear the timbre of your voice and even more so, see your chubby cheeks turn up into a pretty smile at the sight of him. Red flags approached from every corner of his morality, alarming him that he might’ve rushed himself a little quickly, but he couldn’t care less. Not when his heart chimed at the thought of watching you through a window like a sex-deprived freak. You aroused him in ways he couldn’t even begin to describe, the gloss on your puckered lips was forever driving him to the brink of insanity, just as much as his temptation to certify a romantic companionship at the likes of you.

And while his hands twitched uncannily, he focused on the task at hand, the strain of distance finally active. He weakly grabbed at the tiny bun pinning his bangs away from his face before tugging and letting his raven hair gracefully fall down. The daily task was to keep it pinned up, only to appear more menacing to his subordinates. Besides, if he were in the midst of executing a dealer, it wouldn’t look so pretty if his hair got caught in the process, would it?

Heaving out a yawn, he went about his night routine, tugging an oversized white shirt over his head paired with a set of black sweatpants, which dangled dangerously low on his slender hips. The monotone colors of his wardrobe blended into his solemn mood, which he could only wish would be changed with any indication of you. He made his way over to his couch, plopping down in its usual place, prepared to see your angelic face in the midst of the darkness. For minutes, his eyes lingered aimlessly, looking at every single window within your apartment, until they landed on the glow of your bathroom light.

He froze, nervously anticipating the sight of your soft nude body before watching you depart from the bathroom and walk to your couch. He let out a breath, disappointed at the fact that he wouldn’t get to see your luscious curves in all their glory but nevertheless, he was glad you were within his sight. It would be a lie if he said he didn’t come home in slight fear of the fact that you’d be asleep. Surely you owed him at least a small grace of your presence after he’d been gone for so long.

Just when he thought it couldn’t get any better, you situated your body in a comfy position, before grabbing your remote control and shutting the TV off. He wasn’t sure what you were watching, but it couldn’t have been that good if you turned the flat screen off as soon as you came from the bathroom. The situation regarding your TV didn’t even last a minute in Geto’s mind when he noticed the way your pajama shorts once again pooled at the top of your chubby thighs, and your crop top clung tightly to your braless chest.

Was it possible you knew he was watching from the start? You never visibly looked at him nor made any indication that he’d been spotted. But by the way, you strutted around your apartment in peekaboo shorts and tight bra-less crop tops, surely you had to be up to something. He blinked away from your body, letting his dazed eyes adjust to the text message glimmering on his phone. He rolled his eyes, seeing as it was Satoru asking if he could purchase sweets for the next business meeting. After the numerous times he’s agreed, couldn’t he take a hint? He chuckled lowly before grabbing the phone, texting a quick, “go ahead”, before glancing back up at you.

The second he did though, the device tumbled out of his grasp, falling on the luxuriously carpeted floor below him. He didn’t even register the corner of the phone smacking against his foot. His mouth slightly gaped, tongue piercing rolling across his soft palate as he watched you lift your arms and gradually pull your crop top off your torso. Little by little you revealed, for his eyes only, the bottoms of your plump tits, followed by the chub of your cute soft belly before fully flashing the beauty of your perky areolas. He sucked in a breath, feeling as his pants grew tight at the sight of your majestic chest. It pained him to be able to see your gorgeous body, but not be within reach to worship it as he yearned to.

Your hands flew to your pajama shorts, gently tugging them down your slender legs before allowing them to plop on the ground followed by your slick-covered panties. He felt his heart skip a beat, eyes shimmering dark with lust as he grew witness to the erotic acts you performed. Had it not been for his own will, he would’ve never blinked, and he refused the urge to several times. He wanted to embed the sight of your divine physique in his memory. Geto discovered the extreme urge to have you underneath him begging for his cock exceeded its limits as he yearned to imprint himself inside of you. Your legs dropped on either side of you, one dangling off the couch while you sensually arched your back, a hand coming up to pinch and pull at your bouncing left breast as your other skimmed the soaked hole of your little cunt before skillfully rubbing circles on the cute little pearl.

He went into a frenzy, audibly moaning with exasperation. He could only think of you as a naive little slut, having yourself on full display directly in front of his penthouse window, without a care in the world. If only you realized the grave mistake you made for allowing his darkened eyes to drink in your vulnerable frame. He still wondered if you knew he was present, but he couldn’t give a damn about the answer now, not when his thick cock was rock hard at the sight of your ministrations.

He grunted, lacking the patience to hold himself together before hastily pulling his sweatpants down his slender hips, and revealing his well-endowed cock. Upon finding himself incredibly sprung, he accommodates himself on his cushion, eager to tickle the throbbing head of his dick with supple swipes from his thumb. Spurts of pre-cum spilled over the sides, trickling down to the neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his cock the longer he stared. The head of his cock flared in a light shade of pink, beads of pre-cum pouring out from the slit inconsolably.

His brow came down in a furrow, scrutinizing the way his digits melted into one to hug his weeping dick. He desperately gave himself a slight tug with his large hand, before sharply pumping his hips into his strong fist as he looked back at your squirming form. Your head lulled to the side, chest rising rapidly while your cheeks grew pink and lips glossy from the pleasure you rode to the hilt. He could only imagine what you sounded like in person, sweet, beautiful moans bouncing across the apartment walls.

Your collarbones sparkled with perspiration underneath the moonlight with such grandness, drops of sweat running over your swollen, sensitive buds. He bit his lip harshly, sure to leave a bruise for tomorrow. The sight of your body was already a blessing as is, but Geto wanted nothing more than to have his way with your cute little cunt. Black eyes appeared crestfallen, but his heart thumped with such painstaking eagerness. His bangs grew soaked with sweat, fanning his forehead as his cock twitched in his hand. He quickened his pace, pumping himself rather aggressively. While he desperately wanted the pleasure to never simmer down, he knew it’d end the moment you reached your higher self with your moistened fingers. He continued squirming in the luxury of his couch, strings of pre-cum sticking to the base of his hand, arousing even more sticky puddles as his fist came down to smack against his heavy, full balls. He wanted to hear you, feel your warm skin press against his, and even more so, devour you entirely.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you tirelessly pumped two glistening fingers into your dripping cunt, drool seeping over the side of your mouth as your thighs trembled to stay open. Slick had collected on your chubby inner thighs, which, made Geto feral. The agonizing urge of his orgasm strummed the hardening of his abdomen, growing more apparent when he pictured you melting below him from his touch. He watched you intently as you arched your back, your pretty face scrunched in ecstasy as you came, one of your hands coming down to clutch your thick thigh as your rode out your orgasm. He followed shortly after you came, the image of your pretty fucked out face being the last thing in his perverted mind before white engulfed his vision.

“F-fuck”, he groaned huskily, his body growing stiff for an extended second as he pumped his load onto the shimmering definition of his abs. His mind stood in suspended limbo with each drop of semen splashing on his shuddering skin. Geto spent the next few minutes recovering from one of the most explosive orgasms he’d ever had, before sparing you one last glance, only to see your cute form curled up beneath your couch blanket. His vision, hazy with post clarity, foolishly presented a mirage of dazzling light radiating from your heavenly state. He smirked to himself, grabbing a few tissues to clean up his mess. If you had this much of an effect on making him pussy drunk, he could only imagine what it’d be like if you were to ever welcome him between your legs.

Geto later spent the next few days constantly pacing around, formulating solutions on how he could approach you and introduce himself without coming off as distrustful. He looked towards his strengths, seeing as a majority of women found him attractive and he was pretty confident in starting conversations, but he still couldn’t help feeling unsure of himself. Would such a stunning woman like you even want him? Looks couldn’t even begin to shed a layer of light to reveal his flawed persona. Especially the hidden perverted tendencies from within, which only made his balls throb with cum at such dangerous lengths.

He spent the next few days wondering how he could possibly get your attention until finally, spawning an outcome out of pure coincidence. He yawned, tying his freshly washed hair into a soft bun before playing with the stray bang from the corner of his cheek. It was a slow morning this day, the birds chirping outside, singing a familiar song, while the sun sparkled in through the windows, highlighting Geto’s broad chest and chiseled muscles. He grabbed a cup of coffee before trailing over to his couch, curious as to what you’d be doing today. His thoughts suddenly shattered when he heard a piercing scream, trailing from the direction adjacent to him. His eyes narrowed, hard with contemplation and terrorization only dealers were to witness. He gradually slipped a hand beneath his coffee table to clutch a mechanized gun before looking up and locking eyes on your stamping figure.

“Get it off!”, you screamed, attempting to tug the rather large insect off your cropped tee. Nimble fingers trembled with dread and flaring panic as you tried your best, a fleeting sense of relief looming over your head the longer you took. Geto visibly relaxed relieved he was no longer a target but strained at the fact that you clearly were. Intrusive thoughts left him scatterbrained, still pondering over how syrupy your voice would sound if his services were providing you with such a cry.

His weapon of demise was long forgotten as he stood, ready to chase his opened opportunity. He jogged to his front door, slipping his slides on before running downstairs in nothing but sweatpants. Anxiety crinkled over his back and he was scared he wouldn’t make it to you in time due to the missed escalation of time from the elevator shaft taking such difficulty to reach below. Once doing so, he could only pray his luck didn’t run out as he made his way over to your apartment complex, a firm finger desperately stammering over your floor number before he made his way to your door. A wisp of panic flicked him on the forehead as he knocked, the seconds directly after embedding suspense. He was surprised when the door swung open shortly, revealing your determined eyes and fluttering lashes.

“Hey, I’m sorry for the commotion but everything’s completely under contr-oh,” you stopped, taking in the sight of the raven-haired man with ragged breaths staring back at you. Lack of shame had your eyes drooping down to his muscular, tatted chest and low, sagging sweatpants. The perspiration over his body forced black strands of hair to stick pristinely to his forehead. Your eyes grew with interest when they flitted over the pinball piercing on his left eyebrow which directly coordinated with the color of his plug earrings. Suguru, way more discreetly than you, did the same, drinking in the sight of your front crop tee and matching sweatpants. The buttons of your shirt desperately presented themselves to him, the cleavage of your breasts doing no such justice as they appeared divine and inviting,

“H-hello”, you stuttered out, voice quivering with an uncertainty that Geto was directly aware of, leading him to associate it with insecurity. Was he staring too long? Upon locking eyes with you, he felt his heart skip a beat, and he grew rather bashful as well, a slight ounce of confidence slipping over him due to reaching the paradise of which you represented. It drove him a little dizzy if he had to admit it,

“Hey. I live in the apartment across from you. Is everything okay? I heard you screaming so I thought I’d make myself over here and help… but I think I’m a little too late”, he gave a pointed look towards your midsection, the cloth slightly mangled over your soft belly. His eyes lingered a little longer on your belly button, finding the small unveil appealing. He avoided whimsical appearances by offering a soft smile that concealed the way his brain short-circuited at the visual of your plump breasts. Recognition dawned on your face, making you giggle,

“Yeah… everything’s okay now. I got the insect just in time”, you beamed, the sound of your sonorous voice, presenting various erotic scenarios in his head, all of which revolved around what your honeyed moans would sound like. Your words went in through one ear and out the other as you cutely overexplained. All the while of your rambling, Geto fast-tracked your futures together, a very explicit image of a product you’d welcome in the world, untamed. You’d look so pretty with his baby. You also looked so adorable flustered by his sudden intrusion. He smirked inwardly, finding enough confidence to conduct a sense of cockiness out of him. It appeared you found him just as attractive as he found you if not, more. He swallowed, looking back at you with dark eyes, shielding them with curiosity to prevent the greed and obsession from spilling over, “Thanks for your concern. If you don’t mind me asking, What’s your name?”

He gave you a charming smile, acting as though nothing out the ordinary occurred,

“I’m Geto Suguru. You can just call me Suguru!” He extended his hand in a gentlemanly matter. His ongoing situation internally had him in a state of shock, the wheels in his brain barely registering what he was saying. The tips of his ears donned a shade of rosy pink, closely matching the color of your cheeks.

“It’s nice to meet you Suguru. I’m (y/n)! Thanks for stopping by, I’m more than happy to make a new friend.”, his strong hand clasped around yours, forcing Geto to fight against the shiver which came with it. Your skin felt soft and warm, the pleasant scent of your apartment wafting around him only to make his head spin the longer you stood there with him. His lips curled up in a grin, eyes shaping into tiny moon crescents,

“In that case, feel free to look for me whenever you’re in need.”, he chuckled softly. You blushed. He watched as your hand trembled, the other coming down to fiddle with the tingling digits. You lowered your face to look away from his own, which he recognized as hesitation. An inkling in his mind reminded him to keep his deviant details to himself, and instead showcase the side of him that his close friends were familiar with. He took the slight diversion as a lead way to his own, a sly smirk making its way over his sharp features,

“That’s very kind of you. If a bug incident like that happens again, I’ll make sure to find ya. Is it okay if I get your number?” you glanced back up at him, glistening doe eyes hypnotically trancing him to stare,

“Absolutely.”,

You gradually relaxed throughout your entire ordeal, allowing him to witness the considerate side of your witty banter, as well as the sweet praises you offered to ease him up in your habitation. Because of how sugary your personality came off to him, he was convinced you were purposely tugging him into some sort of seduction, a hypnotic act committed by a temptress of which you greatly played the role of. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, slight strains of negativity pouring out as his lips drew downwards in a slight frown. The fact that he had to leave and get ready for the day weighed him down greatly, but just as he was to step away, your soft palm patted his arm, granting a wake-up call that greatly rang at full volume,

“I hope you have a great day, Suguru. I’ll make sure to catch up with you”, you winked cutely, the glee on your face radiating such contagious sunshine. Upon shutting the door, Suguru found himself standing there for an extended second, contemplating whether he should over-excite the acts that he’d just been witness to, or play it off. He chose the latter. Giving you some time to warm up to him would greatly bring in benefits. He could wait just a little longer to be with you, but he definitely couldn’t miss out on the opportunity to touch himself with your servitude in mind. Just as he stepped away from your front door, he smiled cynically, sticking his trembling hands in his pockets. With every step he took towards his home, he overexcited the erotic thought of pumping sweet loads of cum from his stiff cock at the likes of your heaving chest.

Though once again—he was stuck having to hibernate his plans. The next few days consisted of having minuscule transactions worked out with Satoru, in part of an additional operation that would amount to massive money gains. And while cash rain down over his face every hour of his exceedingly long days, he wanted something more. He found himself letting down his guard to welcome his selfishness and sickly cravings. The festivities presented by green printed papers could buy everything, but it wouldn’t buy you. Suguru wanted what the blessings of your sweet being had to offer. The idea of having you beneath him made his heart skip a beat—but he believed you’d engulf his entire soul in more ways than one. With one of those ways being, perhaps a family. He swiped the notion away in the blink of an eye, finding it rather exhausting to expect such a grand outcome, especially with the dirtied path his life had gone down. But, it wouldn’t hurt him to try would it? Wifing up a pretty little thing like you, coming home to spend every waking second basking in your presence, and every darkening hour pumping you full of his seed until you bared a few kids for him. He chuckled unnervingly at the thought of having a beautiful wife swollen with his child. You were the perfect candidate. He just needed to convince your dulcet self that he could be everything you’ve ever wanted.

Taglist!: @lucyrocks86 @honeycomb-biscuits

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