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#also the texture of her hair is so interesting
blujayonthewing · 7 days
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the main problem I've had with trying to do 'your PC as other races' art is that when other people have done it, including ryoko kui's changeling comparisons, they always keep the character's original palette-- and that ends up being an immediate stumbling block for me when the first place I'd be inclined to start is with Elyss, whose main point of difference from an ordinary human is that she is green
#and with elyss like-- okay being an ordinary human would affect not only her bone structure and skin but even her eye color#because it's a pretty-close-to-natural sort of lavender grey BUT I already know human!elyss would have brown eyes#so does 'racebend your blorbo' human!elyss also look like theoretically canon human!elyss who looks like her mom?#in that case what about halfelf or gnome elyss-- am I basing those on human elyss or on canon elyss?#because elyss' light eyes are specifically part of her Water Themed Palette--#-- but light eyes with dark skin and hair are really common naturally for gnomes and elves where they're more rare in humans#AND you start to run into the problem of 'here's a gnome with gnomish features and also a different palette' does it even look like her??#and if I have to take 'what would be normal for this humanoid' into account for elyss whose race is such an unusual case--#-- it gets me into the weeds with like... well specifically melliwyk who has dark skin white hair and bright turquoise eyes#that's not going to occur naturally in ANY other race except MAYBE a very unusual elf but like...#okay so do I just keep her palette anyway? but that feels kind of weird compared to how I have to handle elyss??#ALSO I honestly feel like 'how does the hair color and texture translate' is just as valid as ear shape and bone structure for exploring--#-- the different morphologies of dnd races- and just as interesting to me- but you run into the 'are they still recognizable' issue again#TL;DR MY BIG PROBLEM IS OVERTHINKING IT AS ALWAYS#about me#my OCs#elyss#melliwyk
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greatunironic · 6 days
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eddie wakes up in a strange room. this was not particularly unusual for him, historically: he’d spent most of his twenties waking up in new and interesting places (including a handful of jail cells). but after eddie, the label, and the los angeles superior court system decided it would be best if he stopped drinking and doing blow, it stopped being such a regular occurrence.
so it’s almost alarming to him, now, to be blinking up at an unfamiliar cement ceiling with the raging bitch of all headaches and generally feeling like he got hit by a truck, got whiplash in a crash with the way his neck aches. he’d think he was hungover like all those times before except for how sharp the pain is, bright.
he worries, briefly, he’s relapsed, or someone’s slipped him something. but he remembers what him and the boys had been up to, before this, and he thinks it’d’ve been a strange night indeed if someone roofied a c-list (b-list if he’s feeling charitable) musician at a fucking frozen four game.
because yeah, eddie remembers: they’d been third row, watching the wisconsin ladies clean up and cheering for jeff’s kid sister like she was about to get olympic gold. (she probably would, someday. her and that mayfield girl who played defense were looking down the barrel at a 2026 run apparently.
eddie’s been to a handful of games over the years, when touring and recording allows them to go. he’s resolutely never been a sports guy but he’ll admit, when pressed, that live hockey is pretty dope. to say nothing, of course, of how jeff would probably murder them all in their sleep if they didn’t rep the red and white for lottie.
(and also — and this is between eddie and his god alright — but lottie’s coach? standing back there in his suit, hair styled and dialed, snapping his gum, yelling at the refs? kind of doing it for him, okay. worth the price of admission, even if the tickets weren’t free.)
when he thinks harder — which hurts too — the last thing he clearly remembers was someone from the beavers scoring, bringing their lead to 5-1, and a slapshot from the other team getting out over the boards and nearly taking out some lady’s popcorn. someone behind them in the seats said, “jesus they’re getting desperate, eh?”
then shit goes dark on him, not even a fade to black, but a full on smash cut, roll credits black, and the post-credits scene is where ever the fuck eddie is at the moment. it smells like human and cold and icy hot, so obviously, he thinks, he died and went to hell like all the church ladies said he would back in hawkins, or probably just a locker room. what the fuck?
he blinks at the ceiling, at an interesting water stain on the cement texturing. he’s in the middle of wondering where the rest of his band has gone if he’s here alone, fucking abandoners, when a sweaty redhead with the bitchiest expression he’s maybe ever seen enters his field of vision.
“you’re alive,” she says.
eddie blinks again. “why do you sound so disappointed?”
“yo coach!” she shouts, already on the move away from him. “he’s alive!”
he tries to sit up, but that makes the pain in his head worse, and also draws attention to the fact that his back also hurts. he squeezes his eyes shut and makes a truly embarrassing noise of pain — if pressed, he’d call it a whimper — and a pair of big hands land on his shoulders.
“out, out ladies i got this! hey!, hey, man, don’t move just yet,” says big hands.
“yeah, no problem, i don’t want to anymore,” eddie says. he stirs up the will to open his eyes again and very nearly slams them back shut. because of course the person staring down at him is fucking coach hottie snackycakes himself. he’s even better looking in person, too, big droopy eyes, lips as pink as his bubblegum, and shiny, jesus christ. he’s still got eddie by the shoulders, hands warm through the thin cotton of his flannel and tee — because eddie’s always been more fashion than sense, wayne always said, and it’s even worse now that the paps are on him—
“oh, fuck this is gonna be all over tiktok later, isn’t it?” he moans.
“maybe not.”
“don’t lie.”
“listen, eddie — it is eddie, right?” asks coach hottie. “i’m steve. coach harrington. faughnsie — lottie, i mean — she said you’re eddie. her brother’s guitarist? what do you remember?”
“more like he’s my singer,” he says, “but sure. and not much.”
“well, you’re gonna be okay,” says coach hottie — steve. “it really wasn’t that bad, and it was probably too fast for anyone to get it, unless they already had a camera on you. you took a puck to the head when one popped up. i’d apologize but it wasn’t one of my girls who did it, so. anyway — you weren’t out for long, which robbie says is good — she’ll get a look at you in a second — but you got your bell rung pretty good. and you’re gonna have quite the shiner, trust me.”
“speaking from experience?”
“oh, yeah. closer and faster too.” he gently raps his head with his knuckles. “too many concussions too early ended my nhl days, in fact.”
“oh. oh shit, sorry, i—“
“don’t worry about it, man, it happens,” he says. “and if it hadn’t, i wouldn’t be here.”
“at the frozen four.”
“yeah, sure, that too.”
“what?”
“what?” steve waves him off. “anyway, i’m just glad to see you up, ish, and talking. looked pretty scary, from the bench.”
“i really don’t remember,” says eddie. “but i’m sure i’ll see it on tiktok later, like i said — at least, my unconscious, bleeding form.”
“i got up there pretty fast, so i doubt it,” says steve.
eddie blinks, twice. “you—?”
“you were behind my bench, and you. well,” he says with a shrug, but he’s clearly a little embarrassed, finally putting those hands away — weapons of eddie destruction, he thinks — and shoving them into his pockets of his tight slacks. “i should be getting back out there.”
“do you? you’re murdering them pretty good, unless i black out and missed them getting four more goals,” eddie says.
the corners of steve’s eyes crinkle when he smiles. eddie thinks he might just pass out again. “no, we’re still gonna cinch it, i think. looks bad, though — first time coach missing the final period so’s he can hit on the cute musician who got his clock cleaned by the biscuit.”
“oh,” he says. swallows. “uh.”
steve’s crinkly, smiley eyes go wide. “unless—“
“no less!” eddie shouts and then immediately winces. at a better, less damaging to his more than slightly concussed noggin, volume, he says, “more, actually. because pretty sure i shouldn’t be left unsupervised, and i’ve clearly been abandoned by the band, so—“
“so,” says steve.
“coach, two minutes!” someone calls.
“so, i was hoping maybe i could keep hitting on the hot hockey coach back at his?”
“i’m at the ramada inn,” he says, “and i got tape to watch for the finals.”
“i live for room service,” eddie tells him seriously. “and i’m suddenly very into wisconsin sports teams.”
“coach! go time!”
“yeah?” he asks.
“yeah.”
“COACH!”
he jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “i gotta — but, uh, later?”
“pick me up in twenty?”
“probably more like half an hour, with stoppage,” he says.
someone bangs on the door. “COACH!! let’s boogie!!”
with one last look, wide eyed and smiling, steve leaves. eddie watches him go. he’d heard hockey players were caked up but lord — eddie is about to convert to a new religion, or maybe found one, over the stretch of those slacks.
“damn,” he says quietly.
“gross,” a woman says. eddie startles and looks to the side, where a lanky brunette with a bob and an undercut is staring at him, unimpressed. she’s in some get up that screams athletic trainer, and there’s a white board in her hand.
“how long have you been there?” he asks.
she raises an eyebrow. “long enough, and honestly, i don’t know if that counts as a you rule for him, or a you suck for you,” she says and does not elaborate when he asks. “also don’t look at him like that. it’s steve. he’s basically my sister.”
“yeah? any tips then?” asks eddie. “i promise i’ll only use them for good. well. mostly.”
“god,” she says with an expansive eye roll. “you’re gonna be a nightmare, aren’t you?”
a cheer goes up outside the room as the teams, presumably, take the ice again. eddie, head throbbing, concussed, embarrassed, grins. “sure hope so,” he says.
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highball66 · 1 month
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More RE4 Character Model Details
I made a whole separate post for Leon specifically since there's a couple very interesting details hidden in there that I wanted to compare to his 2R mode, like scars, but for this post I wanted to focus on other details. These are the actual models Capcom used that were ripped from 4R by some very talented people-- I imported the files into Blender so I could mess around with them.
Looking at the texture of Leon's eyes, they're actually look a bit more gray than blue to me. He's also doesn't have limbal rings.
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He's also got very long eyelashes. His dark circles are also very dark to the point where he almost looks sickly.
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Like Leon, Krauser's got scruff! More scruff than Leon actually... by a lot. Leon's is more "fucked up while trying to shave and missed some patches" while Krauser's is just that he hasn't shaved in a day or two.
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And for all the artists or just people curious out there, he's a close up of the patch on his sleeve and the emblem on his beret.
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Ashley's eyes are definitely more of a green-blue than just straight up blue too. It looks like she's got some eyeshadow remaining too. Also, her necklace is an eagle pendent!
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Forgive me for the cursed image, but she's got her ears from OG4!!! They're just hidden by her hair.
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neowinestainedress · 6 months
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between us — johnny suh
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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 ♡
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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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© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).
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rongrii · 15 days
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I recently started redesigning characters from HH for my and my friends au’s, first one I did was Lucifer :D
He quickly became my favourite character, and I really wanted to have my own take on him.
I would really appreciate if you gave me you feedback and thoughts! I know text I wrote is long, but I really tried to make things interesting <:) I do not support Viv, I pirated the show and I know it’s flaws, so I am trying to fix them how I like.
First of all, visual design changes. I want to say that I didn’t put “animation friendly design” as my priority, in show I would like to decrease amount of his details, but here it’s not very important.
Facial features changes:
- I wanted to make him look more interesting, adding goat symbolism in his eyes, nose, horns and ears. He looks kinda strange in show if think about it, angels there don’t have any noses? It bothers me a bit.
- Here I am taking a turn into making Lucifer and Satan into once person, unlike in the show. I just wanted and It seemed more logical to me. His hair is now wavy/curly, I took inspiration from paintings and sculptures where Lucifer is depicted with wavy hair.
Outfit:
- His shoulder pads(if I am using the right word) have small details on them which I repeated on his coat. I change his bow tie to a tie mostly due a personal preference, and now eye and appears only in his demon form is visible at all times.
- Hat now has a single big apple in the middle, and snake can be either on staff or the hat. Staff now has dark wooden texture that flows into the apple, resembling a tree.
Now onto character role, personality and behaviour changes.
Trying to be equal to God:
- Biblical reason to Lucifer’s fall was his pride and desire to be equal to his creator. If we had this motivation for him in the show, it would be much better. It suits person who lives in circle of Pride, it may explain why Lilith took Charlie away from Lucifer in that one scene, it adds depth into Charlie’s daddy issues. I love for how dorky and unserious he is the show but here, I wanted to follow another path, of making Lucifer actually prideful, terrifying king of hell.
- God sees everything. In attempts to imitate it, Lucifer the same way sees and knows about most of what happens in hell. You notice how much eye ornaments are on the streets? I took this idea in Lucifer being able to spectate whenever he wants on any place eyes are placed in. This extends to every ring, having even more power than Vox and his cameras. Lucifer’s eyes on his cape may also appear in situation when he decides to watch sinners and demons, as well as pupils shift form. He also knows every soul who enters and leaves hell, like Sera.
- I often see points about Lucifer being God’s favourite in the past. This could be incorporated in the story, making even more sense for Lucifer to be so prideful. Charlie could face the same consequences, + Lucifer could treat her like Charlie is a God’s son, like Lucifer himself is. More depth and angst into Charlie’s relationship with father, yay!!
Other changes:
- He could use more coldness to the sinners. I don’t think it much matters to him if they are killed, more than that, Lucifer would kill the sinners like exorcists do, if they are not acting how he wants to. But in hell, you can’t run away from Lucifer like it is possible from exorcists. It would make him more scary.
- He and the royal family because of the first point are respected. Lucifer’s pride wouldn’t allow him to treat him badly.
This is not all, put the post is long already and I am still thinking things out. I will make part 2 with his full demon from and more thoughts, so stay tuned!
Thank you if you read all that, and even if you didn’t and just liked the art. Tell me if I got things wrong and I have mistakes in my research of Lucifer in religion. Have an awesome day!!
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swissalbanianmiss · 1 month
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Ok hear me out…cock warming except you’re “just friends” with Nico. Maybe it happened once after a drunken night out where you both exposed things you want to try sexually but have been afraid to bring up with past partners and from there you’ve convinced yourselves that it’s totally normal for friends to do that.
You’ll both be hanging out doing the most mundane things like sitting on his couch watching tiktoks on one of your phones, laying in bed reading a book, catching up over dinner in one of your apartments etc. almost bordering on “free-use” kind of vibe. Both parties will initiate it whenever they want comfort, warmth or just when the reader wants to feel full and stretched out.
You’ve convinced yourselves that if he’s not thrusting or anything then it’s totally cool and not crossing the line of friendship. Except one time while you’re doing this and watching a movie together, a sex scene comes on and you start to squirm a little which sets things into motion as he feels you start to get wet and from there you have sex and explore the other kinks (choking, photos/videos being taken, spanking & dirty talk) you discussed during that first drunken night.
Sorry this was so detailed and long lol I kind of got carried away with this request
friends do this? | nico hischier
warnings: mentions of drinking and being drunk, being hungover, cockwarming, free-use vibe, slight choking, taking photos/videos during the act, fingering (orgasm denial), spanking, dirty talk, p in v (unprotected by no creampie), ALL WITH CONSENT!!!!
a/n: love love love this request zemer! kind of got carried away so its a bit long. also, don't apologize for the details!! it helped me write this and bring it to life. thank you for the request and for being here. a reminder that my requests are open for nico hischier, john marino, luke hughes, kirby dach, elias pettersson, and timo meier. if there is anyone else you want me to write about send in an ask and i'll consider if i would write for that person or not and if i chose not to i will explain why <3 i currently have four other requests i am working through so bare with me. te dua!!!!
p.s: this is a female body reader x nico hischier as all of my smuts will be because it is what i am comfortable writing.that being said, this does not include any description of bodies/specific features (long hair/short hair, tall/short, hair colour, texture, style, etc) to enable every reader to imagine themselves just how they please. i want everyone to feel welcome here <3
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Nico and I are both crazy drunk in the back of Jack's car. Luke was the designated driver for Jack, Nico, and I since he’s too young to legally drink. 
Nico is my close friend and he invited me to go to the bar with him and the team after they had a good win. I took him up on the offer and we both decided I would sleep at his apartment since I live further away. 
We pull up to Nico's apartment complex and Luke, being the gentleman that he is, walked us up to Nico's apartment to insure we got in safely. When Nico and I make it into the apartment, we both take a seat on his couch.
“Why’d you invite me, Neeks? Wasn’t interested in bringing home a random girl tonight?” I slur my way through the sentence, watching as he scratches at his stubble. “Nah, they’re never interested in what I wanna do. Which is fine. I respect that.” He sighs and I sit up straight, confused about what he just said. “What do you mean they’re never interested in what you want to do?” I watch as he contemplates what he’s going to say. He leans back, staring up at the ceiling before beginning. “You know, stuff. They just want it to be a quick fuck which is fine but I’d rather do more. Like choking, taking photos, spanking.. That’s hot to me. There are even times when I don’t wanna fuck. I just wanna lie there with my dick inside of her when we watch a movie or something.” I’m taken aback by his forwardness but also by the fact that we both have the same wants.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. I want that too. I mean mostly the cockwarming part. But the other stuff too, eventually” I nervously admit, fidgeting with my nails. Nico scoots himself over to my side of the couch. “You know we could do it together, right? It’s not weird. We’re close friends. If we don’t move and neither of us cum, I don’t think it counts.” I giggle at his words, thinking he’s just joking with me. When I look him in the eye, I can tell he’s not joking. I immediately sit up straight, shivers trailing down my spine. “I don’t know Neeks. Do you think friends do this?” I run my hand up my arm, trying to conceal the goose bumps. “Why not? We can do it right now. Let’s watch a movie and do it.” I nod at him in agreement. I’m practically dying to feel him stretch me out.
Nico gets up and comes back a few minutes later with a blanket and some lube. I watch as he takes off his clothes. He takes off his boxers and I can see that his dick is somewhat hard. I need it inside of me right now. “Take off your clothes.” He orders, stroking his dick to get it fully erect. I undo my belt and pull my pants off. I slowly and teasingly pull my panties down, exposing my pussy to him. I see some precum gush out of his tip when he sees my pretty mound on display for him. “You gonna take off that shirt too?” He gestures to my black top. I carefully pull the top over my head and my tits fall out, exposing the fact that I wasn’t wearing a bra all night long. 
Nico makes his way back to the couch and lies down. I tuck myself in front of him, pressing my ass against his hard shaft. “Ready?” He asks, rubbing the lube between my folds to make sure I’m ready for him. I nod and he pushes himself all the way in. We both sigh at the feeling. He turns the TV on and puts on some random movie while pulling the blanket over us. I’m so tired from the night we had and I feel so warm and comfortable and safe with Nico inside of me and his arms wrapped around my body. I guess Nico feels tired as well because a few minutes into the movie I can hear soft snores escaping his lips. 
I wake up the next morning to Nico running his big hand up and down my side. My head is absolutely pounding and it takes a few minutes for me to register what happened last night. 
When I open my eyes, Nico is standing in front of me. He’s dressed in black Devils sweatpants with no shirt on. He’s holding a large cup of coffee for me along with some electrolyte infused water and medicine. I slowly sit up, accepting his drinks and medicine and he takes a seat next to me.
“Soooo, last night was nice.” He trails off as I take a sip of my cold coffee. “Yeah, last night was good.” I take another sip of my coffee. “Do you wanna do it again? Like anytime. You can initiate it, I can initiate it?” I think about the offer for a minute but nod my head and agree. “I gotta go to practice in half an hour and then later I’m going for dinner with Timo and Jonas. Maybe I can come to your place tomorrow? I’ve got the day off.” I pick my clothes up off the ground and begin to get dressed again. “Sure, I’d like that.” Nico flashes me a dimpled smile before I head down to the lobby. When I get outside there is already an Uber waiting for me.
The next day I open the door to Nico holding coffees for the both of us. He walks in and I go back to my bedroom, picking up where I had left off in my book. Nico comes and cuddles in beside me and I pull my pants down, signaling to him that I want his cock. He spits in his hand and rubs up and down my folds making sure I’m good to go while he focuses on getting himself hard. Once we’re both ready he pushes into my pussy and we go about doing our own things. 
This routine goes on for 3 weeks. Any chance we got to be alone together we would be doing this. Whether we were talking, watching a movie, doing our own things on our phones, his cock would always be stretching me out. It was never awkward afterwards and nothing changed in a negative way. 
Tonight Nico and I are lying in his bed watching some romance movie. The movie of course has a sex scene like most romance ones do. The man in the movie kind of looks like Nico. Dark brown hair and big brown eyes. The man is touching her so softly and sensually and before I can stop myself, I buck my hips back into Nicos. He doesn’t say anything or react so I assume he didn’t notice. 
The movie goes on and the scene gets even spicier, I can’t help but buck my hips back again. This time, Nico has something to say. “What are you doing? Is the movie turning you on?” He teases me and I shove my face into my arm, hiding my flustered expression. "Answer me" he demands, pulling my face away from my arm. "Yes, Neeks." He chuckles as he runs the back of his hand down my cheek. "You crossed the line we put into place you know." I nod. "Didn't mean to Nico. I promise." 
“Do you wanna try out the other stuff we talked about a few weeks ago? Hmm?” He brushes his thumb near my lips. I nod eagerly. I would be lying if I said I haven’t thought about fucking him despite our “cockwarming is fine if neither of us move” agreement. 
I’m caught off guard by his hand gently squeezing my neck. I push back into him again as he attaches his lips to my shoulder, gently peppering kisses up to my neck. I rock back into his hips a few more times before he suddenly pulls out of me and sits up, resting his back against the headboar. “Lie down on your stomach” he gestures to his lap. I do as he says, feeling his hard erection pressed against my body. He runs his hands along my ass, occasionally squeezing. He gently slaps my ass, preparing me for his spankings. 
After a minute of teasing, he harshly smacks my ass causing me to jolt forward in pain. A needy whimper escapes my lips as the prominent stinging sensation. “Hm, you like that my dirty girl?” I frantically nod as he places another harsh smack to my ass. Nico runs his fingers through my soaked folds. He reaches for his phone on the coffee table. “Gonna take a video of me fingering you, is that okay baby?” He soothingly runs his hand over my ass that is still tingling with pain. “Yes” I grab the pillow and put it under my head so I’m more comfortable.
Nico teases my puffy clit a few more times before slipping his fingers inside. I hear the quiet sound of his phone starting to record. Nico starts moving his fingers at a rapid pace. My moans and the wet noises from my pussy fill the room. Nico slows down and gently curls his fingers up, perfectly hitting that soft, velvety spot. I start grinding myself into his fingers, feeling myself get closer and closer to my orgasm. “Mmmm good girl, taking my fingers so well huh” I reach back to grab hold of his hand. “Nico, gonna cum.” Right after I say that he pulls his fingers out and reaches around for me to suck them. He pushes them as far down my throat as he can before I gag. “Not yet baby, wanna record you cumming on my cock.” He traces his thumb over my puffy lips as I frown. 
Nico helps me get into the position he wants me in. I lie down flat on my tummy and he comes behind me, resting his ass on thighs as he slides into me in groundhog position. He has one hand on my hip and the other holding his phone. “Shit baby, feels so good.” He grips my waist tighter, pushing into me as deep as he possibly can. I grip his blankets as he shoves my head into the bed. My ass claps against him with every harsh thrust into me. “Taking me so good for the camera, baby.” I can’t even respond to him. I can feel my orgasm building up once again and I can only hope he’ll let me cum this time. “Nico, cum, gonna cum, please let me.” I don’t even care how desperate I sound. I’ve wanted this since the night we started our cockwarming routine. 
“Okay baby, cum on my cock for the camera.”
I tip my head back, looking up at the ceiling. Nico removes his hand from my waist and gently wraps it around my neck. I grip the blankets even tighter as he continues his deep thrusts. My creamy arousal begins to collect at the base of Nicos dick as my legs start to tense up and lightly shake. My orgasm is so intense. I feel my body fully relax into the bed as I slowly release my grip on the blankets. I feel Nico pull out and use all my strength to turn my head and watch him jerk himself off to his orgasm. He covers my ass in his white, sticky cum, throwing his head back and groaning to the ceiling. I press my head back into the bed, trying to ground myself after the best sex of my life. 
Nico turns off his phone recording and leans forward to press a kiss to my messed up hair before leaving the room. I watch his naked figure leave the room in awe. He’s so attractive and perfect in every way and I hate it.
He returns a few minutes later with a warm cloth, Läderach chocolate, and water. He cleans my folds before wiping his cum off my ass. I slowly sit up, taking a sip of the water while Nico digs through his drawer finding a pair of boxers and an oversized shirt for me to wear. I go to the bathroom to get dressed and take care of business. When I come back he opens the box of Swiss chocolate. He holds out the box to me and I take one of the chocolates, desperately needing food even if it’s just chocolate. He opens his arm for me to snuggle in and I rest my head against his bare chest. He pulls the blankets over us and we both sit in silence for a few moments. He soothingly runs his hands up and down my back while I fidget with his cross chain. He leans over to turn the lamp off and we both relax into the bed. The only light in the room is the bright city lights gently shining through the blinds. Nico and I both fall asleep without another word, leaving the lingering question of what our relationship is until we both wake up the next morning.
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brittle-doughie · 1 month
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I wish to request something a little strange- So you have experimented with the idea of Cookie Cannibalism so maybe I was hoping you could just build on the idea. No morbid curiosity tho
(This ask was super weird, so you can ignore it if you want)
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Bake It Till You Make It: Tasty Delights
It never hurts anyone to have a treat every now and then..also I updated the first part to my current format of posts
WARNINGS: Cookie Cannibalism
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Running the shop doesn’t always have to be around the holidays. The Sugar Gnomes were generous enough to have you run the shop all winter long! If that was what made you and the cookies in the kingdom happy!
It had surely made the cookies happy alright! All day, every day has cookies coming in the high tens into your shop! They can never seem to get enough of the cakes and sweets offered here, you being the manager also had a hand in the amount of visits too.
But that was only half of the whole thing. The other half was the cookies being thankful enough to gift you their own sweets.
You never questioned their generosity, accepting the gifts with a smile. What was odd would be the cookies acting a little suspicious in terms of behavior or style of clothing, something that was a bit out of character for them.
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Cookies like Crunchy Chip Cookie that are usually pretty tough are left trying to come up with an explanation for their insistence on you accepting their sweets, Crunchy especially since you recalled that sweets weren’t his thing. He practically pleaded for you to take it and eat it, he wanted to know if you liked his sweets. He wanted to know if you liked how it tasted…
And, in his head, if you liked how he tasted…
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Crunchy Chip yelled out as he cracked off a piece of his arm, a brief moment of pain that had take deep breath.
But in his mind, it would be worth it. To see you savor the taste of what he made despite the end result. To see you savor how he’d taste like.
It would be worth it…
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You thanked him as he left with his cake, sitting down at one of the tables as you started to eat his sweets. For someone who didn’t like them, Crunchy’s delights were pretty good! You continue taking a bite, and then another one, and then another…until it was all gone.
That really hit the spot as you sigh contently, leaning back in your chair…with the window behind you having a fixated Crunchy Chip watching intently before he hurried away.
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Mozzarella Cookie thought it would be pretty interesting of her to give you a mozzarella cheesecake. A very odd choice of ingredients, you even joked if she had placed a piece of her own mozzarella in it, something she giggled at.
What a silly thing to say!
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She wasted no time in gently removing pieces of her mozzarella hair to smoothly texture her cheesecake.
She’d know that you’ll like it, she’d kick herself if you didn’t. After all…
…an intriguing cookie like you only deserves an intriguing dessert~
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The amount of cookies coming in for some of his healings have been noticeably higher during this time of the year for Pure Vanilla Cookie. They’d come him, almost impatiently ask that he give them some healings to make them feel better before they’d hurried off for the day.
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The changes in their outfits did not go unnoticed by the Ancient Cookie. Raspberry Cookie’s hair covering a portion of her face, Pastry Cookie wearing a sort of cloak to conceal her form, Clover Cookie missing tufts of hair…
They’d never want to answer any of his questions and just move along hastily…
He decided to come to you to see if you had any clue about this. He catches you just as you’re about to close up shop for today, a box that contained coral cake in your hands.
“Y/N Cookie! How are you, my friend?”
You greeted Pure Vanilla warmly as you two shared a hug. You asked him what brought him you.
“I was just worried about the number of cookies coming to see me to heal them. Do you know anything by any chance?”
Injured cookies? This was the first time you were hearing of this…
“It’s just that they never wish to tell me what was wrong with them. They’re always in a hurry to leave…”
This was pretty odd behavior…but you’d look into it whenever you can. You had to head back your place for today.
“Thank you, Y/N Cookie. I’ll help you in any way I can.”
You bid each other farewell as you head home, opening the box to take a bite of the cake, humming delightly as you savored the flavor.
As you reach home, you head to the fridge to put it away for later. You had to make room though, with a number of different sweets and foods already crowding your fridge, gifted by your Cookies.
———————————————————————
The utensils and ingredients were set, with instructions to make a cobbler.
The cookie was all to ready to get started…if not for one more ingredient to really make this cobbler special..
She can already picture it now. Seeing cookies crowding the shop, wanting their order to be taken first. She was stepping past the crowd to meet you at the counter
She presented her cobbler to you, wishing for you to have a taste!
You took a bite and you’d immediately be downing the whole dessert right there and then, excitement bubbling within herself at how much you liked it.
You’d tell her that you loved her cobbler with all of your being, you’d ask her…if she’d make more for you. She’d be all too eager to say yes! She will make more!
It would feel as if she had a connection with you more than the rest…
With these thoughts, the cookies giggled a little manically as she gets ready to crack off her lower arm…
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White Lily is sure of herself that you’ll enjoy her dessert!
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ivystoryweaver · 6 months
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im so interested in what u think the moon boys would be like as dads???
Ohhhhh, this is gonna hurt my heart. In a good way. I have a lot of feelings about Moon Dads and I've not yet written fics about it so yeah...
I'm gonna jump right in with Marc.
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I think if Marc had a child, he would be all in: attentive, tender, affectionate.
I don't actually believe Marc would be afraid of parenting. I know that can be a popular hc/fic plot and I totally understand why, and love reading those.
But I think Marc would be one of those people that would try to do the opposite of what was done to him. Example: his parents were married and that went well... (sarcasm)
Yet Marc got married. He and Layla were together for years and, according to her, had "adventures together", meaning they worked as a (likely successful) team. Marc bailed on Layla once his mom passed and he could no longer control or hide his disassociations (plus Khonshu's threats for Layla to be his next avatar).
Point being: Marc did get married and seemed pretty successful at it, for the most part.
Marc is in charge of bath time. This includes little toy boats, fish that squirt water, bubbles. He's going to wash their hair, or whatever hair needs they have, depending on race and hair types. If it is a hair type he isn't as familiar with, he is going to be talking to his partner, looking up vids, whatever it takes. Touch is going to be so important to him. He is the dad who will know how to do french braids or styles for textured hair.
He's never going to react in anger. If he is angry, he's going to hand the reins to Steven or sometimes Jake (if he is able, it's obviously not a parlor trick), or he will just say to his little one, "Daddy is going to take a time out. I'll be back in a minute and we can have a talk." The idea of putting himself in time out is so endearing to his child that they end up calming from whatever misbehavior they were attempting, wanting to join him in the corner for time out, touching a plushie or reading a book in his lap.
They learn very young that their father's expressions can be stern but his hands are safe. They will not want to disappoint him.
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
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Steven can converse naturally with children, this we see in the first episode. Steven's open, engaging nature is great for children. His own childlike wonder will shine in fatherhood. He was also able to quickly redirect the behavior of the girl who was littering at the museum. So a spunky child in a doctor's office waiting room will be easily wrangled by a distracting toy, quick game or wonderful story.
Steven is your go-to guy for bedtime stories. With a young child, Steven will share how wondrous the world around them is. He'll always have a anecdote or a fun fact for tweens or teens.
He will offer choices. "Do you want to put on 'jammies now or after a story?" "Do you want to help Dad set the table or feed the cat?" Steven has lacked agency in his life, so he is going to give it to his child. He will teach them to speak up for their needs.
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
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Jake is going to be such a little shit as a dad. I'm sorry but there is no nicer way to say it lol. Jake's used to operating in the background and he's a night owl. He's the fun dad. He's the "don't tell mom" dad (or don't tell dad, dad). Kid wants stay up 15 extra minutes? It's Jake that's gonna sneak them some of the popcorn he popped after they were supposed to be asleep. As a partner, you'd find your little one on Jake's knee in the most comfy chair, watching the Yankees play baseball.
You give them The Look™ and they know they are busted. They exchange guilty glances and then Jake starts repeating words in Spanish. Baseball, Popcorn, very good! If you are already all Spanish speakers then Jake pretends to be practicing in both Spanish and English.
Either way, he and his little twin, with their adorable curls, give you shit eating grins.
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
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My favorite Conduit Of The Horrors 🩵
Rambles and art stuff under the cut
I love thinking about the primary trio post-nmpd, and there have been some really cool headcanons floating around, and long story short I rewatched Yellow Jacket and I have some ideas in the works. I don't know if this is post-Yellow Jacket or in the middle of it or what, I'm not actually thinking that deep about it I'm just having fun lol. For reasons I needed to have a finalized design for Hannah soooo-
I managed to seriously screw myself over by deciding to try and draw 2 characters I adore that are played by four extremely different looking actors. It was frustrating, but interesting to try and pick out what I thought the most important features of each version was.
So like, for BF Hannah I just used Kendall Nicole as the reference, easy peasy. But aging her up was a bit of a juggle. Eventually I ended up kind of grafting Lauren's expressions onto her face shape, which I also referenced Angela Giarratana for. Just to get that familial connection in there. It really helps that they both have that distinct chiseled chin, it's really fun to draw and fairly easy to replicate. (Side note, Lauren has an incredible ability to suddenly look like a deer in the headlights out of nowhere. The nervous energy that rang through her performance as Hannah was amazing, and I couldn't get over how damn expressive her eyes were)
I was gonna have a more detailed drawing of Ethan in there, because I absolutely love their relationship, but I chickened out. I ended up basically just drawing Joey's version with slightly shorter hair that is longer on one side, like a half-mullet thing. This is partially to try and synthesize the two versions in my head aesthetically, but mostly it's to differentiate him from Pete. Pete is a little difficult too, I actually really like how Nick Lang played him and wanted to incorporate some features from there, but I decided to save it for another day because I was giving myself a headache. Honestly a lot of the stuff is just hair texture, cause one of the most defining traits for their designs in my head was the way their curly hair was styled. But at the same time Joey's current haircut is damn iconic and I love being able to swing it around for the drama Ghibli-style
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greinch · 1 month
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summary: Overthinking blind your judgement and you can’t see past your insecurities
pronouns: she/her (not gender neutral at all)
tw: insecure/shy? reader, implied that reader doesn’t have boobs as big as nesta and morrigan, body image issues, boobs mentioned, flirting but not much ‘cause I suck at writing about it, almost no hurt/barely any comfort, wanting to puke mentioned, almost no plot at all
a/n: I’m tagging everyone but like… this is really light on interaction again idk whatfuck is this
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Like a rude awakening, reality smacks you on the face in the most ridiculous way possible; there you are, sitting among your perfect friends, celebrating who knows what, at Rita's it’s when you realize how miserable you are. How miserable you've always been. Obviously, the small mercies of the world tried to grace you again this afternoon, when you put on the navy blue dress that Morrigan graciously lent you. You felt the first wave of warnings coming when your eyes met your twin on the mirror's reflection, a wide smile not reaching your eyes, empty eyes shining with a sickly green of jealousy; makeup smudged around the eye area, smile lines marking as well as texture accentuated under the foundation, blush a few shades too dark, lipstick color making your teeth look more yellow under the room's light, your frizzy and dried out hair in some points and, the best, the navy blue dress that accentuated everything worst about your body. You hated the way the fabric hugged your hips, how the slit cut too close to the groin and how your arms looked.
You looked wrong, at best, as a gentler compliment.
You remember, at that moment, looking at Morrigan and wanting to die. She had perfect golden hair framing her angelic face, delicate and marked collarbone, a waist so thin you wondered if the simple laws of common sense applied to her, how those proportions of hips, waist, and breasts were remotely possible and where her organs fit. You envied how her eyes sparkled, figuratively and literally, as she leaned over to touch up her lipstick. But you ignored, obviously, the first warning from your more than realistic conscience trying to give you, and now, you sat miserably ridiculous between Morrigan and Azriel.
Cassian laughed loudly, his heavy and defined arm over Nesta's shoulders, who seemed totally unaware of anything they were talking about; not that she wasn't listening, Nestha always listens, she just wasn't interested.
It was when you started staring at Nesta that the second wave came, her well-sculpted profile, strands totally out of the way of her pale and perfect face, drawn mouth slightly pulled down and eyebrows naturally tight in a tense expression. She was also beautiful, not like Mor, but in a sharper and meaner way, marked inquisitiveness in her eyes.
Your eyes were out of your control as it discreetly started analyzing her, while the conversation at the table ran from side to side, up and down. Like Mor, Nesta's breasts filled the neckline of the top she wore with far too much, delicate shoulders and thin arms, strapless top clinging to her skin for dear life, only the cauldron knows how that top hadn't given in yet. Looking at yourself, you suddenly became aware of how yours blatantly floated above your chest, even with magic, it didn't fit perfectly on your curves; it was either too tight or too loose, highlighting everything worse. You summed up your final observations to a soft glow between the curve of her collarbone, long necklace of thin chain extending to near the beginning of her bust curvature. You fought the urge to lean over the table to get a better look, wondering exactly what that pendant would be, however, your body leans against your will and you disguise as you can, adjusting on the bench, thigh practically naked rubbing against thigh covered by typical leather pants and, on the opposite side, rubbing against the smooth softness.
Your discomfort draws attention to your object of admiration, Nesta bringing the wine glass to the lips drawn with a thin and discreet smile. And, as you are blatantly caught staring, your face burns with shame and your neck wets with stressed sweat. Fortunately, Cassian seems drunk enough ti not notice you staring at Nesta breasts, but your bench companions notice. With your peripheral vision, you can perceive Mor's discomfort, how she awkwardly shifts on the bench and how she seems to sour automatically. Azriel, in turn, chuckles quietly disguised by the heavy beer glass.
You start to pick at your nails, everything happening down your lap is more interesting now.
Shoulders automatically shrinking, trying to make your figure as small as possible, now you also wish you had brought a coat because you can only think about how big your arms must look, how the fat under the skin would spread more. No matter how small you try to be, it never seemed to be enough, you could never get rid of the feeling that your body simply takes up as much space as possible.
This makes you want to die.
"Hey!" Cassian snaps his finger right in front of your face, frowning deep into his perfect forehead, if a forehead could be perfect "Cauldron, woman! I’m talking to you!"
You snap, eyes leaving your manicured nails and staring at Cassian, a low "Hm?" Scapes while your mouth opens and closes like a fish
"You’re alright, dear?" Rhys, ever the gentleman, says so softly that the thought of melting right there crosses your mind
"I-…I-!" You open and close your mouth, eyes lingering through the table, Rhys tilting his head slightly to the side as both him and Feyre stare at you. No… actually, everyone at the table stares you, and Nesta looks at you like she’s enjoying and savoring every once of humiliation that you now drown in. "Yes! Yes, of course I am, just thinking about what I’m going to drink" Rhys frowns deepened, he adjusts himself into his seat, ready to put salt in the injury, ready to dismiss your, clearly, lie in front of everyone. But he doesn’t, Feyre silently pulling her leash over him tight. You thank her mentally over and over again for cutting short your suffering.
Acid rises through your esophagus, a burning sensation climbing as far up your throat as possible, breathing slightly irregular.
You reek of anxiety and discomfort, and they notice, you silently pray for them to think it's just your natural scent, which isn't too far from the truth.
Trying to shift again, but between Morrigan's thick and supple thighs and Azriel manspreading, there isn't much space left for you. You feel cramped and hot now, extremely hot. And you think you'll start to hyperventilate. Feeling your anxiety picking up, in an attempt to calm you down, Mor intertwines her slender fingers with yours. And you hate yourself more than anything because even in this act of caring to bring you comfort, all you can see now is how perfectly manicured her nails are compared to yours, how delicate and slender her hand is, and if a hand could be perfect, Morrigan's hand certainly would be.
"What… what exactly were you saying again, Cassian?" you try, really try, to steer the conversation away from you because now you're sweating way too much for people to pay attention to you. You wonder if the sweat is leaving wet marks on the dress, you don’t have the courage to check. "Really sorry, didn’t catch up with your monologue."
"S’okay, it wasn’t nothing too special," a shrug from him, "just that you look gorgeous in that dress, perfect even," he says like it’s really nothing, like he didn’t make your heart skip a beat and, to make everything worse, Azriel's tattooed arm snakes around your shoulder and he simply nods casually.
Staring at Nesta like the dumb thing you are, and she smiles slightly. Her smiles were always thin and short, but this one is not teasing or sarcastic.
You want to puke.
"Thanks, Mor did all the work actually."
"Didn’t have much to do then, you’re already lovely," it's Feyre now, and Rhys seems to agree, but you don’t know for sure; Rhys agrees with most things that Feyre says or does.
You only feel the shyness creeping up your face once more.
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surely-sims · 4 months
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SMALL SIMBLR SATURDAY SHOUTOUTS !!
AKA an excuse for me to yell about how much I love these incredible free CC creators and throw flowers at them.
@lumenniveus - LxN CC 🌹
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LxN makes some of the most interesting, whimsical, and creative CC that i think the community at large is so lacking. Every time I load up his CC In my game I find myself smiling and laughing at all the love and little jokes he includes. Please Please Check out his stuff if you haven't already. I think he might be the most tragically slept on BB creators.
▶ Check out LxN Here!
@hamsterbellbelle 🌸
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HamsterBelle is one of the most brilliant creators I've come across in this community. Not only is she crazy smart and makes some of the coolest cyberpunk CC I've ever seen, she is also a mind blowing builder and takes the time to write out some incredibly helpful tutorials. I've learned so much from her whether she knows or not haha. 🐹💖
▶ Check out HamsterBellBelle here!
@nolan-sims 🌼
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Not only is Nolan a goddamn pillar of this community for many years but she's also an incredible, sweet, and wonderfully talented creator and friend. Her CC is always so well thought through, completely original, and lovingly detailed. We definitely don't deserve her. 😭💗
▶ Check out Nolan here!
BONUS ROUND: 💐
All these creators are amazing and I would carve their names into the stars but ya'll would shoot me if this post kept going and going down your dash that long.
⭐ @gilded-ghosts Amazing amazing vintage CC, thoughtful, beautiful original meshes and textures. ( X ) ⭐ @myshunosun Myshuno deserves all the hype and praise her CC gets. She's an absolutely lovely human and has saved my ass once or twice too. ( X ) ⭐ @dallasgirl79 DallasGirl makes the best heels your sims will ever wear. Hard stop. I will not be taking questions at this time. ( X ) ⭐ @doctorsimcraft A dear friend, an amazing writer, builder and maker of delightful vintage Build/Buy CC too. ( X ) ⭐ @vyxated HOLY FUCK. Vxyated is crazy intelligent. Their work with CAS rooms and now the new Rig Plus Helper is mind blowing. ( X ) ⭐ @adjusted-karma ( X ), @simmireen ( X ), @herecirm-warcry ( X ), @rebouks ( X ), @madebycoffee ( X ) Beautiful people, beautiful poses. Also Ireen runs @ts4-poses which is a goddamn godsend to this community. ⭐ @twentiethcenturysims ( X ), @chere-indolente ( X ) Fantastic Historical CC from two very good eggs. ⭐ @jellymoo ( X ), @laeska ( X ), @xldkx-cc ( X ) Three lovely and fantastically talented CAS creators that put a ton of thought and effort in going the extra mile with their CC and it absolutely shows. ⭐ @awingedllama Anna is smart, skilled, and deserves all the flowers she's gotten this year. We really do love to see it. ( X ) ⭐ @kamiiri Some of the best hairs that have ever graced my game. I am actually obsessed. ( X )
If I missed anyone I apologize, but please know every single free CC creator makes my heart grow a little bigger every day. 💖 And to my fellow Creators, Storytellers, Simmers - Go make weird shit, make something that makes you laugh, make something that brings you joy. Cause y'know what? That joy bleeds into your work and we can all see it and feel it. That joy is infectious and special and THAT is what makes this community worth being a part of.
xo, Anne 🦐
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ch3rriiii-bunn · 11 months
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How good are they at doing hair?
Got excited to make this one♡♡♡
Warnings: black reader (will mention different hair textures/styles), humor
Akaza
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- is decent with doing hair since in his human life he had experience to comb out hair and put it up in a bun (even tho he dosnt remember who he did it for). Doing your 4c hair wasn't too much a challenge when he just followed what you said to do
- you'd have to remind akaza that it doesn't hurt everytime he combs your hair out. He thinks because he's pulling your hair hard it's gonna hurt you and it was sweet but funny
- "can I twist your hair again? It's quick and easy. it also looks good on you" and "can I take them out for you the next day?"
- twists on you is akazas favorite thing on you and he enjoys doing it
- praises praises, so much praising from akaza when your hair is done
- he threatened a male human to make a bonnet just for you and brought it to you as a gift, blushing like crazy
Douma
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- pretty good at it and enjoys doing your hair
- he had to learn over time that he needed to ask before touching your hair and not just play with your curls at random
- douma's favorite thing was wash days. He'd literally get in the shower with you to wash your hair, his favorite part was brushing your wet hair and watching your curls spring back up
- when you explained to douma what a Bonnet was and how you needed one he crafted random hats until he got it right and gave it to you as a gift
- "no y/n don't put your hair in a bun! I love seeing your hair out" and "I'm bored. Can I play with your curls? Pretty please!"
- gets sad when you don't do your hair without him
Kokushibo
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- thinks he's good at doing your hair but is actually not
- you'd think kokushibo doesn't pay attention to you when your doing your hair but he actually is
- kokushibo rarely expresses his like for something but whenever your looking at yourself in the mirror he'll stare at you in aw even tho it looks creepy
- "it's quite... beautiful" and "i love it"
- when kokushibo held a afro pick in his hand for the frist time he started using it like a regular comb. Even when you showed him how to use it he kept doing it the same way but in different angles thinking he's doing it right
- as for a bonnet he though putting silk pillowcase would be better for you and less trouble of you did have a bonnet and happen to lose it
Tamayo
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- a perfectionist at doing your hair
- definitely the best demon to do your hair, like look at hers!
- Tamayo loves to do flat twists on your hair and put it in a bun at the back just like hers
- "y/n it's time for me to do your hair" and "look, i brought another hair pin to use. I think it would look lovely on you"
- like douma tamayo would feel down if you did your hair instead of her. In general your someone tamayo likes to look after
- Tamayo makes your bonnets, head wraps and any moisturizer your hair would need
Nakime
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- not very good but is open to try
- you're the one actually doing nakimes hair all the time by brushing it out and styling it the way she likes it
- nakime would sit down and watch you take sections of your hair and brushing it out using the moisturizer from the aloe plant
- your afro is big and thick. Enough to cover your eyes similar to nakime which is what her more motivated to help you do your hair
- "like this? I need to hear your corrections on what I have to do y/n" and "we both have our hair covering out eyes... Interesting"
- even though nakime is emotionless around the other demons she's shown to be affectionate with you since she manged to get matching bonnets with you
Sekido
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- his hair is wavy, your hair is wavy of course he's good but you'd have to beg him to do your hair of you were tired
- absolutely hates when you move your head when he's brushing your hair. If you complained about your tender scalp he'll literally call you names
- "you should be greatul I'm taking time out my day to do this. Say thank you" and "if you keep moving and changing your mind on a hair style I'm going to cut your hair off"
- gets you a bonnet to match the clothes you wear at night. Anything for his precious human even tho he won't tell you that
Aizetsu
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- decent at doing your hair but will get sad if he can't help you since you had tighter curls (4b)
- normal black girl things is when your hair just isn't working with you those days so when that day came and you were frustrated Aizetsu offered to help but the brush snapped leaving you in tears and Aizetsu began to cry to because your upset and he felt bad
- you're the one who gets it together and calms the both of you down so when wash your hair Aizetsu puts it up in two buns
"Its like im doing a dolls hair. A pretty doll" And would just have a soft smile on his face which is a rare site to see
- as for a bonnet he went to one of his brothers to get you one since interacting with other humans ment killing right after and he just wasn't in the mood to do so
Karaku
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- do not let this man near your hair
- he got a comb stuck in your hair one time and he laughed at you slugging to get it out for 20 minutes. He even tempted you to just cut it out but you got the comb out, the crazy part is you just asked him to make a part on the back of your head
- "y/n do those mini buns again! It looks super cute on you (bantu knots)" and "you can get stuff stuck in my hair and I can try to take it out ahah!"
- That's supposed "bonnet" Karaku brought back for u was just a shower cap. A win is a win
Urogi
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- a bully. Like Karaku do not let this man near your locs
- almost gave you a heart attack when you were retwisting your locs and he said he'd pull one out but didn't, laughing crazy at the fear on your face
- "you're taking to longggg C'mon take a break from retwisting and have some fun with me!" And "you're locs are gorgeous on you"
- when he heard "protect your hair" because you needed a bonnet he used some of his feathers that came off easily to make a hat instead of a bonnet. It was a long argument that night leading you to get your own bonnet
Muzan
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- Doesn't do your hair. He could but just doesn't
- tells you where to get the stuff you need for your hair because he won't get it
- "you're hair in corn rows is beautiful on you. Wear your hair like that for the next upper moon meeting"
- like kokushibo he just has all your pillows have silk pillowcase on them
- when muzan is in a good mood, he'll bring back accessories to put in your hair
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ravenshavenn · 8 months
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Why I think Snape is autistic
(as someone with autism and who also has other family members and friends on the spectrum)
(I don't want to generalise these are purely my observations and I hope I worded everything correctly, this is just my lil hyper-fixation dump meant for fun an not to be taken too seriously)
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Firstly, Severus is always seen in his trademark long, dark robes which could be a way to cope with sensitivity to certain textures as he has clearly found something that works for him and he knows he likes, so why should he have to wear anything else?
He also keeps his hair long which could also be another sensory comfort for him as tying it up can keep it very far away from his face which short hair doesn't provide quite as well (from personal experience) or leaving it loose can create a nice feeling on a persons face or neck that some people with autism find comforting
Obviously Snape's favourite things are the dark arts and potions and he shows a deep knowledge of these subjects throughout the books and movies alike therefore these could be seen as special interests considering the amount of time and energy Severus puts into them
He's also shown to have a vast collection of various potion ingredients in jars and knows straight away that something is missing when Harry takes the Gillyweed
Severus also stims in potentially unnoticeable ways such as constantly fiddling with his hands, having his hands behind his back to clasp them together and picking apart leaves as a child
Social gatherings are clearly something that Severus finds difficult as he's not often seen at any besides supposedly mandatory events such as the Yule ball which could be because he finds them overstimulating from the noise, crowds, smells, lights, etc
Another potentially overstimulating thing for Severus could be light as he spends his time in the dungeons which aren't well lit and in other scenes where there is bright lights he immediately shuts them off such as when he takes over Lupin's defence against the dark arts lesson and also again in the prisoner of Azkaban a portrait asks him to put out his luminous spell and he complies as he walks away meaning he's just walking in the dark?! (Which is a total vibe tbh)
He's always been depicted as "strange", "wierd" or "lonely" as from his childhood Lily is his only friend and the vast majority of other characters seem to find him off putting and can't actually specify why they don't like him "the fact that he exists" but he's not shown to make much effort to expand his social circle so it seems as though he's either content with the situation or has given up on it
There is a lac of understanding shown for other peoples emotions throughout the books and movies alike for example the perceived "rudeness" towards students could definitely be a result of depression or something else but it could also be that he doesn't fully understand the impact that he has on them
Severus also experiences the "flat effect" which is when someone displays little to no facial expression, this is a trait that can be seen in autism, this is emphasised in the movies in particular but Severus in the books is also said to not show much emotion unless he's feeling incredibly extreme emotions "Don't call me a coward" for example is one of his infamous more emotional scenes but for the majority of the time his expressions aren't depicted in great detail or he simply isn't displaying any
Along with this he also has a fairly monotone voice, besides when he's extremely upset which again is a trait displayed by those on the autism spectrum
He doesn't seem to understand social rules particularly well for example he's unsure of how to communicate to Lily that she's a witch and accidentally ends up scaring her, not fully grasping that 11 year olds can't do everything he can regarding potions and becoming easily frustrated by them
Severus also clearly has a very strong sense of justice that he's willing to do almost anything to ensure is carried out such as spying for as long as he did which was definitely partly motivated by Lily but also (or I like to think) his intense black and white vision of right and wrong which Voldemort crossed when Severus fully understood everything that the death eaters stood for when they began hunting down Lily
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rippersz · 2 months
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𝙲𝚊𝚝!𝙻𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊 𝚆𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜:
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These are my opinions! If you don’t agree, then add your own headcanons! The idea is taken from the mind of @masscared-star and their thoughts on feline Larissa Weems.
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Kitty Cat Larissa Weems is a white Turkish Angora feline. One of the fluffy ones with the thicker neck fur and ear tufts. Her tail widens toward the end and is very soft of course. Every part of her is soft.
Her teeth are very sharp. They’re still in human alignment, but the incisors and canines are obviously more cat-like. The premolars and molars, toward the back of her jaw, have more sharp edges. So she doesn’t hurt herself, her tongue rests in her mouth differently and has a very weird texture. It’s in between human, soft, and the feline, rougher and tougher.
Her pupils CAN turn into slits. Her ears CAN twitch and swivel and flatten. Her tail CAN swish swish swish. She also has a habit of stalking without realizing - walking with swinging hips and one foot in front of the other like that of a model.
She has PERFECT balance. Despite her height and stature, she will not fall. And if she does, she shall be graceful about it.
Heightened senses of course. She has an excellent sense of smell. Her eyes, however, function like a human’s. She can see all colors and has an innate sense of where things are so there’s no ‘bumping into things’ unless she’s somehow dizzy. BUT she CAN see in the dark. Built-in night vision. No hiding from her at night.
Ear scritches. Yes, ma’am. Scratch her behind the ears, be careful of her hair, and she will push into your hand without even thinking. It’s very comforting for her and sends lovely little shivers down her spine. Same with the base of her tail. She won’t respond in the same… interesting manner as a cat’s, but she will let her tail curl around your wrist or your waist. She has a lot of control over it.
PURRING. PURRRRINGGG SOMETHING IS PURRINNNGGG AND IT’S LARISSA WEEMS LMAO. She will purr whenever she is content. Head on your lap while reading. Eating a lovely little meal with you in deep candlelight. She keeps it low and soft when she’s in public, happy and proud of her staff and students, but otherwise lets herself purr as loudly as she wants when with you. - Larissa also has the ability to let out little ‘mrrow!’ chirping kitty sounds when she’s excited. If you show up with lunch for her one day and she’s not expecting you, she’ll perk up and the sound will leave her chest without any restraint. She will be embarrassed about it. You will laugh and she will be embarrassed and then when you give her a little kiss, she will purposefully nick your lip and you will go ow!! and she will go 'Gotcha.'
Showering…. hissss….. She loves showers so much, she does, because they are warm and she likes warmth, but they are also annoying. The pitter patter on her ears can irritate her, so she indulges in baths more. It gives her control over the touches on her ears and she actually enjoys grooming the parts of her that are feline. Although, if you headcanon that she has a proper cat form, she will not like water as much.
Her nails are sharp. She can’t help it. They’re painted red, yes, and they can be sheathed and unsheathed (like Enid’s, yes), but she tries to be gentle with them. When she’s angry or frightened, they shoot out - so just be careful.
Her precious soft ears are pierced, near the base by her head on the outsides, but those areas are sensitive. Not sensitive like ooooo but sensitive like ow please don’t squeeze there. She mainly wears pearls in those spots, because she likes the sparkle, but little golden hoops make the occasional appearance as well. - She does not like bows or things being placed around her ears though. Chances are she will not like extra accessories there. And she DOES NOT APPRECIATE YOU TRYING TO TURN THEM INSIDE OUT BECAUSE IT LOOKS FUNNY. You did it once and you have the nicks on your hands to show it. Worth the laugh though.
She hisses beneath her breath when irritated. A popping sort of hiss that rumbles from her throat and is often heard in the quiet of her office.
She’s quick. Crazy quick. It seems impossible but it isn’t.
LOUNGING. BASKING IN THE SUN. LOUNGING AND BASKING. MMMM SUNLIGHT. She will lay across her chaise and she will soak in the rays through the windows and she will turn around in her desk chair and just sit there until she nearly falls asleep. No, it’s not very productive, but if she doesn’t get her daily sunlight, she will be a little bit down. If you find her taking a midday rest on the weekend, full body facing the sun that filters through onto the bed, no you don’t. Don’t disturb her. Leave her be, purring away happily.
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:3 - Rip x
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buff-muffin · 3 months
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I’ve been slowly brewing up little One piece canon compliant head canons. These could be used to write little stories if I or someone else wanted. But I just want to get them out of my head so here you go.
Just an FYI. I’ve only finished pre-timeskip so spoilers for till the end of marineford ig and if something is proven different by Oda or later on in canon. I want y’all to know I really don’t care.
1. When Shanks was visiting Foosha village he had never actually heard of bug fighting neither had almost any of the crew. To little Luffy that was essentially a hate crime and he ran out of the bar so fast all of them thought they had upset the boy. He returned around an hour later with two large bugs in his hands and the crew got to watch them fight. Thoroughly smashed and here to enjoy Luffys interests they got WAY too into the fight and started placing bets and were screaming, cheering for their chosen bug. Never had the town seen so many grown adults so worked up over two bugs on a bar table.
2. Nami helps Usopp with his hair care. Back at Syrup village he normally had the kids help out when it finally needed to be washed. But now on the Going Merry he didn’t exactly trust a man with three swords or Luffy near his hair. And Sanji wasnt much help either. He was scared to ask at first but after Arlong Park Nami agreed and it soon become tradition for them to kick Sanji out of the kitchen for Usopp’s hair day and spend the whole time talking and gossiping. Sanji was and still is jealous about it but it’s completely platonic
3. (continuing after 2) Chopper was the next member to join the ‘hair care club.’ While his hooves aren’t the best for helping out with washing or braiding, and his human form’s hands were too big. He liked hearing about what went into caring for different hair textures. And he just liked to be helpful. However it was through being in the hair care club did Chopper realise that being part human because of his devil fruit meant his fur needed to be washed way more often than it did. And after some trial and error with wash frequency and products, they found the perfect combo that leaves him adorably soft.
4. (also continuing after 2) Robin was the fourth member and was invited to join before the events of Skypia. Nami asking if Robin could braid her hair while she did Usopp’s. But Robin just quietly confessed she had no idea how to braid hair. Seeing as no adult in her life wanted to sit down and teach her at Ohara. Seeing that as an atrocity, the hair care club had their first offical meeting. Where they showed Robin all sorts of braids on both Nami’s hair and Usopp’s
5. (continuing after 4) Robin quietly found herself very proud of the knowledge of knowing how to braid. And on quiet hours on the ship while she was reading and everyone was doing their own quiet things. She often used extra hands to add little braids to Luffy’s hair while he either fished or napped. Luffy is completely aware she is doing this yet never thought to bring it up. He loves little acts of affection from his crew and waking up to braids in his hair never fail to make him smile.
6. (continuing after 2. This is the final one I swear) Brook is the last member of the hair care club. While he lets Chopper check his ‘roots’ and general hair health he actually knows how to do different hair styles for Usopp’s hair texture and happily teaches him as well as the others and now Usopp can finally branch out in hair styles
7. one of Luffy’s favourite pass times is to listen to his crew mates talking about their dreams. He sits at the table listening to Sanji tell tales about the all blue. Or listen to Franky and Robin ramble about work. He listens to Zoro talk about people he wants to fight, and the islands Nami wants to visit. He’ll listen to Chopper’s doctor mumbo jumbo and Usopp talking about plans for new weapons. He loves listening to Brook’s songs but he’ll also hear tales about the skeleton’s old crew and stories of Laboon. He tries to ask questions to sound interested but it normally just gives people the idea he’s not paying attention. So instead he gives them encouragement. Because his favourite part, is seeing the way their eyes light up talking about something their truly passionate about, and the shameless smile they give him knowing their captain would never once make fun of their dream.
8. Robin quickly found comfort in Luffy after joining the crew and for a while she couldn’t figure out why. Until she realised his ‘shishishi’ laugh sounded just like Jaguar D. Saul’s, the giant she met growing up. And when she realised it was the first night she slept soundly on that little boat.
9. After loosing his arm Shanks went through a really annoying yet hilarious adjustment period of getting halfway through a task before realising he needs two hands. His crew always laughed when Shanks did his ‘wait how am I gonna do this’ pause. And while they always help him out when he needs it. They know he will figure out how to open things himself. Hopefully without his teeth.
10. Ace very proudly has a scar on his arm from where Luffy accidentally bit him once way too hard while fighting. When Dadan patched him up and told them it was probably gonna scar Ace was pissed, Luffy was wailing in apologies and Sabo had been dying of laughter that Ace’s first ‘cool fighting scar’ was his brothers teeth mark. Now though? Among the other battle scars Ace’s skin bares. That scar is his favourite story to tell. And all of the Whitebeard pirates know to. Never let their fingers near Luffy’s mouth.
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butevrythinggoesaway · 10 months
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Okay this one is a spoiler
Noir being a sort of big sibling to the other spiders. PB may be the team dad, and Ham is the weird gay uncle, but Benj is the team big bro.
He teases Pavitr about how he acts around his girlfriend's Dad, but he's also keeping a close eye on the guy just to make sure he's a good person
Margo's trying out a new style? You look like you're going out for a night in my world. Then the moment someone says anything vaguely negative about her style he's rolling up his sleeves.
Gwen's having trouble with people in her school? Keep your Pops' old colleagues busy, Gwendy, Benji's gonna have to run away from the cops when this is done. The only person who's allowed to give Gwen trouble is him.
He mocks Hobie's British accent, but is always backing him - when Hobie's out doing stuff, Benj isn't far behind, with loaded guns and a desire to eat the rich.
Miles is tied up by Miles G (MG)? Listen up, you are family material, but until you accept the dynamic, the only one allowed to beat up Miles is me, wait in line.
He goes straight to Peni's world to kick the shit out of whoever thought a fourteen year old, probably nine when she started, piloting her dead father's mech was a good idea. That doesn't stop him from calling her all forms of short.
He learns to style everyone's different hair textures, he looks into fashion and make up, he stands up for the spiders, even if he's probably like almost nineteen. He starts learning Hindi and Japanese, he shows an interest in their interests, he sings russian lullabies to Mayday to get her to sleep. Miles looks at him hopefully so he sings to the rest of them too. Mass cuddle piles, he falls asleep alone and wakes up covered in spiders
He tries to be the big sibling he wishes Teresa and Eddie were. He says I love you a lot, and he reiterates how proud he is of them all the time, even for minor things like remembering to eat or going to sleep at a good time.
He's this close to telling Miguel to back the fuck up to his face, and he will find a way to punch Spot into next week or die trying.
He will cry if they cry.
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