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capslocked · 8 months

Text

PART & PARCEL

male reader x sana && tzuyu

18k words

“Is it too late?” Sana asks, and here’s how it always starts with her.

Nevermind that it’s not a question in search of an answer. A normal person could, should, text you. Hey, what’s up? or something equally inconspicuous before turning up the dial, are you busy? can I, like, come over?

Instead, she’s at your doorstep again, twirling a bundle of honey-blonde between her fingertips as if she doesn't know what all that does to people. Some people say, incorrectly, that these are the hours of the night shared with ghosts. And to that you say: No, these hours belong to Sana, clearly, and apparently nobody fucking else.

Now in a way, you do get it. It’d be easier to turn back over in your bed and ignore the elegant simplicity of a text message, or one step beyond that, do the unthinkable and finally tell her no, but when she’s standing there - there with that face, like a thousand different excuses or a million little reasons why she needs something from you, right now - and all she has to do is push her lips together, eyebrows going high -

It is a bit like magic, after all, this feeling when she comes around.

Everything that happened before - her visits, the first one and then the next - no matter how impossible, gets washed away, and suddenly all you have is her. Her voice, her hair, and a sneaking suspicion that the time apart really isn’t such a bad thing, because you don't always have a guess as to what comes next.

Of course, you were always going to let her in.

“I saw the lights were on,” she adds, starting to shrug off her coat like she knows you will.

“I mean, I’m here,” you say, non-committal.

“Yeah. I can see that.”

The door's half open and the only substantial hesitation you have is when you peer over her shoulder. There’s another girl, propping herself up against the doorframe, with a pretty head of glossy, sable hair falling gracefully down her shoulders, and she looks at least a few years younger than Sana. You smile cautiously at her before giving Sana another, much longer glance. In response, you receive a wink that's as subtle as a brick through a glass window (which only raises more questions). You ask the one that seems most important.

What else would Sana, of all people, possibly want to bring you if not some plaything or another. You've seen it all: girls who liked her money, girls who liked her body, girls who just flat-out liked girls, whatever. The dynamic always seemed to be, as long as everyone is having a good time, nothing to get hung up about - because at the end of the night, everyone comes around to Sana again.

And she comes around to you.

Why question it.

“This is a little… irregular,” you say with a nod of your chin, as you step back from the door. "Who's the plus one?"

Sana motions the girl in with a sweep of her hand and throws you another disarmingly flirtatious smile - the same one that'd first left you utterly hooked by this strange person, who had, when you first met, walked into your life for five minutes, then fucked your lights out the way she wanted. She goes further with this, of course, teasing a warm smile and slanting an eyebrow.

"I figured I'd bring you a gift," she coos, in this sultry, dusky sing-song of a voice that really needs no followup whatsoever, other than maybe take my clothes off right now, as she makes a show of how she's pushing her shoulders back, like there's an audience to be impressed with the curve of her bust. "Since we were celebrating."

"Uh-huh. What's the occasion?"

"Whatever the hell you'd like," Sana chirps.

With that, she takes you by the collar. And even though the girl she brought is in the middle of, like, peering around curiously in your foyer, Sana leans up on the balls of her feet and kisses you hard. It's a real kiss - no preamble - which is sort of funny, given you would have been more than okay with some. So, naturally, you're caught entirely off-guard. It takes a full ten, fifteen seconds of feeling her hot little mouth pressed insistently up against yours, your mind gone blank with the suddenness of the moment. Your body taking it for granted.

Meanwhile, the other girl blinks - long, dark lashes batting the curve of her cheekbones slowly until Sana has moved to stand in front of her with the full, earnest intention to cup her jaw, tilt her head down a smidge, and kiss her too (very thoroughly, also, in her own way).

Sana lets the girl go with a sharp draw of air and a peck. Then she looks at you, just this side of playful. The way her teeth flash over her bottom lip suggests how she's enjoying, to her bones, this state of affairs: a dalliance with control, with desire, where she can flaunt it.

She tells you to relax, unwind, which you suppose is code for taking another of Sana's friends and bending her over every horizontal surface in your flat and fucking someone the way you've wanted for the last however-long it's been since Sana dropped back into your life. You've done as much. Some rotating cast of characters: Mina, Chaeyoung, Nayeon, the raven haired girl with the perfect tits; some names and faces starting to run together the more Sana pops up at your place with a girl under one arm, usually looking half bored and half shy - or at least putting up some pretense that might justify Sana telling them to strip down while she's already eyeing you with this look like she's wondering which article of clothing you'll be ripping off her first.

"Does she have a name?" you ask, with a nod vaguely in her direction. Of course it's a loaded question. What's her name doesn't matter. You don't know most of their names.

But when you do a double-take, remembering to steal a good look, you're not sure you've ever seen anyone pull off that perfect little white dress quite the way she does - the kind that goes right up the back, tucked under the neck, sleeves coming to a neat point across her fingers. Sana may or may not have a thing for pretty girls in cute dresses, but this is, without question, the most obvious bribe you've ever witnessed in your life.

Sana's still smirking - so much for being considerate, you think for a second, until you’ve got a dainty hand stretched into yours like you’re brushing up with royalty. And well, maybe you’re getting a better look now that she isn’t bathed in the calm, assured wickedness that two A.M. might only ever know - the dark curling like wind around her fingers and down the lines of her spine, cajoling.

She is gorgeous.

And she says -

“Chou Tzuyu,” in this charming little voice that’s even more mesmerizing than you anticipated, this taut thread winding itself up between the two of you. She says her name with a gentle sigh, a light in her eyes that you know, intimately, not to trust, but you get the sense that she'd rather you make an exception for her - or at least for the night. “Everyone calls me Tzuyu.”

You feel a squeeze at your fingers, an anxious reminder from Sana's thumb, as if she feels the reverie in which you've lapsed. It draws you back, just slightly so.

"Tzuyu," you say, taking mental note of the faint smile that shadows in at the corner of her mouth when you do. "How much do you know?"

She twists in Sana's direction, and oh, look how eager and innocent and coquettish Tzuyu's making herself in front of her, smiling. What do I say, the gesture is asking. You can see her effort to hold back a giggle or two as she bites her lip, trying, as all the pretty girls who come through these doors often try, to come up with something cute and modest and small that'll allow you and Sana to picture exactly the right thing. You can tell when a person is not used to having an audience.

"I know Sana..." Tzuyu's voice trails as she gives Sana a furtive glance. "She talks about you a lot. And I figured, you know."

"What? That we were good friends?"

"Sure," Tzuyu laughs to herself lightly again. "Whatever makes it easier."

Sana has her fingers threaded beneath Tzuyu’s chin, studying her like she’s an artifact that belongs behind glass. Expensive. One of a kind. And oh-so-excessively fragile.

The way Sana touches her, she may be trying to prove the point, guiding her body's angles and edges towards whatever form she sees fit, with just fingertips and the slightest tug, showing you exactly how malleable the girl can be. The look on Tzuyu's face is hardly discomfited when her dress slides past the dips of her shoulders or the slope of her waist, when the fabric gets crumpled in Sana's hand like the most expensive balled-up tissues in the universe. You can't decide what animal comes to mind: perhaps a deer, some cute, unknowingly doomed elk.

"No underwear," you note, watching.

Sana draws herself a little closer to Tzuyu with an appreciative gaze, lips gently landing at her shoulders, neck.

"Why bother?" Tzuyu muses. "What were we going to use them for?"

A pull here, a tug there, and the dress puddles around Tzuyu's feet, silk shimmering like the inky dark of a starless sky. And just shy of a pedestal and perhaps a fucking moonbeam, she's the spitting image of perfection: porcelain skin stretching out over a masterwork of curves and bone and muscle. A sculpture, a study in the form that so frequently leaves people just absolutely dumbstruck and thirsty in their wake.

Sana trails her hand around the width of her hip - drawing your eye along the skin of her leg, up and around the perfectly curved thigh - stopping to splay her fingers just so at the base of her spine, as if in demonstration of ownership. Like this: mine.

"Don't get it confused," Sana tells you. "The whole naive innocence thing is a total fucking misdirection."

"Tzuyu," you say again, this time noticing the way it feels in your mouth, syllables sweet and sticking to its roof like honey - maybe something more of an excuse to move forward and touch her yourself, palm her face, brush your thumb over her bottom lip. A taste, something subtle but intense, spreads to the back of your throat, the moment her teeth graze gently over its pad. "Is that true?"

"Are you asking me what kind of girl I am?"

"I didn't put it exactly like that."

"Just answer, sweetheart," Sana says, brow quirked in a faux-display of nonchalance, fingers still pressed, spreading gently at her neck. She's enjoying this a little too much. Though, you're enjoying this too. It doesn't have to be an either-or kind of scenario.

"It's better if you say it," she adds after a second of consideration, and even though it's obvious by now she's only prodding and that this is a foregone conclusion, Tzuyu puts an emphatic twitch in her lips - red, wet, a vision in crimson - like the thought is deeply troubling and will likely require lots and lots of thorough explanation later.

"Fine, okay, in that case," Tzuyu starts with a weary sigh, and then with a blink-and-you've-missed-it flash of a smirk, there's no way anyone's buying any of this, "I’ll say: I'm whatever kind of girl you want me to be."

Sana was right, and she didn’t even need to go so far as to say it. It’s clear - you want her.

But it's half as easy to pinpoint where it all starts: there's the way Tzuyu melts, sinking just that much further when you guide your hands around the curve of her ribs, fingers following the flow of her soft edges, the slopes and valleys of her breasts, and she parts her lips even before yours touch the seam of her mouth, her breath warm, heavy, the kind of anticipation that sends jolts down her neck, her spine, the body electric - a real live wire.

Or, it's because of the way she likes it - like, really likes it. There's something exceptional in a girl who will wrap her legs around your waist and suck your tongue and whimper just by a feather's touch around her hips or between her thighs, where it's damp and hot and holy shit, this is unreal in a very tactile, visceral way. There's no mistaking the noise for anything but genuine pleasure when Tzuyu's trying, unsuccessfully, to bite down the whine sneaking up her throat and into your mouth - where you're kissing her, still - the kind that presses heavy at the bottom of your stomach.

Or, there's Sana yet, pulling her clothes off, and instead of leaving a trail in her wake, folds each piece neatly until she's bared down to this fine little number of lace and cream-colored silk that'd make your head spin if you weren't, y'know, pretty busy, mouth occupied by Tzuyu's pliant moans, both of your tongues colliding.

"God," Tzuyu groans out quietly as you pin her to the wall, and again after another string of kisses, sucking your lip.

There are fleeting moments that slip through like sunlight that have you thinking: Right, this was a good idea, nothing other than a sweet girl like this all messed up and squirming with the shallow dig of your nails. But only close to perfect.

Sana will explain it.

"Mm. Not god." Sana is grinning when she leans up for the same kiss, but she takes her time with it: mouth slotted tight against Tzuyu's as her long fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of Tzuyu's neck, working her grip up slowly so that the strain gets more noticeable until the girl is a gasp on a choke of breath. The curve of her back is drawn out by that same hand and her ribs pressed, pert and rosy, into the cool air.

"Sir, and please," Sana then instructs, voice just harsh enough for Tzuyu to understand.

You might imagine she's also drawing in with her nails, teeth, a full-body drag up her exposed front, like some kind of prize, marking and tasting and fucking every inch. There's a whimper, desperate sound of, yes, right, fuck, please, and sir slipping like a sigh off the edge of Tzuyu's tongue.

"Or better yet," Sana adds, with another searing press into the junction of her collarbone, "say daddy, please," then follows through on the plea with another slow-pull.

You try not to roll your eyes. It's Sana's kink, not yours. It's a whole thing. And with Sana, like most things, you find it best when you simply play along.

More than that, you indulge her. You both do.

"Okay, daddy." Tzuyu's teeth catch the corner of her mouth in a self-amused bite. Twisting and twisting the swell of her lip further until it snaps forward. "I want you to tell me something," she says, which, for the way this typically goes, is a little more self-assured and pressing than the usual fare. Even Mina, who was perhaps less than enthusiastic about the - uh - title in question, came around eventually when she had Sana's fingers, your cock, all sunk so deep inside her she forgot what any fucking words were anyway.

So maybe Sana does know what she's doing with this one. Maybe you oughta thank her.

Tzuyu just lifts her chin, says, "this isn't what I expected when I showed up here."

"Obviously, it's not," Sana says.

"What I mean is, this is all good fun, of course," Tzuyu explains. A charming indignance that slips past, like the fingers down her belly. She swallows hard, muscles clenching as your palm runs slow over a hip, squeezing. "Though I guessed when we left Sana's, I would've been bouncing on his cock five minutes ago."

Sana's lithe little frame ends up closer - nearly naked in lace and wholly difficult to miss. She's a half head shorter than the girl in front of you, but with a tilt of her chin and a beckon of her hand, it's a powerful look about the lines of her face: eyes slightly hooded, mouth curved and devastating. It's as if, at every hour of the night, the simplest glance will have the fabric of someone's clothing coming undone, regardless.

Tzuyu is just slowly trading looks between the two of you. So curious. "So what then, do I have to do," her words curl like smoke up her throat, "to get fucked by both of you, hm? In, like, the next five or ten more minutes, preferably."

"He's not going to fuck your brains out simply because you ask." Which by the way, is the first real lie Sana tells tonight.

Tzuyu is unimpressed, or maybe she's a stoic. "Clearly," she deadpans.

Whatever the expression is that is fluttering those gorgeous lashes, eyebrows pulled down, adds a faint mark of distrust across her brow. The prettiest scoffs you've ever heard. "Isn't the point to get me spread out on your sheets so you can use me like a little fucktoy?"

A sigh from Sana: heavy, calculated. She does not reply in any obvious way to that, no flimsy assurances that it would be whatever the hell Tzuyu likes (though you think maybe Sana might want to take this whole fucking opportunity, all this thinly veiled begging for it, for the first taste of what will probably be the main thing that'll hold her over the edge of an orgasm or two).

So, instinctually, Tzuyu pushes it, just enough - she tilts her head, and the motion is followed by a wide sashay of her hips as she gently presses a fingertip to your chest, encouraging a step back to better your balance, like the pull between you has a little more gravity.

"Don't go quiet on me." Another sultry note pulls from her mouth when she guides you another foot - or however many, until the foyer opens up into your living room. The chair, the sofa, a table, you watch her eyes wander like she's mapping the territory. And then finally she drops her hands from your shoulders, reaching instead for Sana, taking her waist in her palms.

Holding her. Kissing her.

There's a delicateness about both of them, clearly, and not only how Tzuyu angles their lips, as if she doesn't fully intend for the two to merge but instead taste the line, test the edges, or something; but Sana doesn't fight this. In fact, when Sana's being drawn gently, but confidently into a deeper, harder press, a very eager give, her eyes slip closed. There's a war, and Sana - though she'd be the last to admit it - is losing.

Tzuyu, at the end of a particularly sharp draw of air, simply turns to you, eyes peeking over the tousle of copper hair atop Sana’s head, and asks: "How does daddy want to play with his toys?"

It clicks in your head immediately: she's a natural, could be an actress, maybe a pro - you have no idea where Sana found her - even if that doesn't exactly match with the diction; daddy, and sir, and the baby-girl pout. There are the things she does to Sana, this slipstream of control passed back and forth and back and forth again - a fevered tugging, the give of one or the other. An entirely different dance. Beautiful, fluid, intense.

Eventually, it lands in your lap. Literally and metaphorically. Tzuyu looks up from where she's kneeling between your legs and with a little pinch of your hips, tells you with that intoxicately sweet, melodic voice of hers, that you seem like the sort who wants someone who just takes initiative.

And she's right.

"May I?" she asks, breathlessly, fingers at the zip.

"Of course,” Sana answers for you, settling into her side like you both belong to her. Like she’s about to enjoy this just as much as you are.

What does the room sound like, the darkness giving away? Everything. The hum of the appliances, the purr of the heat, something in the walls is settling into its final position for the night as the floorboards sigh. Breathing. Listening.

What you don't hear:

Chou Tzuyu moving - whether she shifts onto her knees, or adjusts how her slender fingers fall from the waist of your pants, doesn't matter - no crunch, no shuffle. She doesn't swipe away the hair from her eyes or drag the pad of a thumb over her swollen, bottom lip. All she does is pull, just a bit, and the zipper breaks the silence, comes apart down the way.

Sana clears her throat gently, hoping, possibly, that Tzuyu might be the kind of girl who just loses herself to the moment, caught in the headlights. The way every delicate, doe-eyed girl is supposed to do. Sana likes them a little helpless like that - makes her feel big.

It's too bad really, because Tzuyu doesn’t appear like she's awash with anything in particular. Or at the very least, she's done a fairly convincing imitation of not being the slightest bit off-put, completely disarmed or whatever Sana had been looking to see.

She does look up though. Long, pretty face still managing a bit of devastation from this angle. Those full lips slightly pouted and slick in red: such an inviting color against her pale skin.

"Sana," she coos, eyes wide and brilliant - innocent, yet taunting all at once - and she's deliberate in what she says next, flitting her tongue across her canines to punctuate every sound: "Isn’t daddy going to use me now?"

"Oh." Sana leans in, eyes flicking up at you, Tzuyu's hands, her body, and starts slowly, like she's exacting a punishment, "Tzuyu, baby," her own anticipation beaming off the surface of her thousand-kilowatt grin, "you're going to take that perfect cock," the words dripping off Sana's tongue, heavy, sweet, "you're going to take it, get your pretty little lips all over it sweetie, you're going to show him just how good you can use that filthy fucking hole of a mouth for him. You're going to take him until he cums in your throat, and then you're going to beg him for more. And if you can do that, well. Then we’ll fuck you exactly how you wanted."

Tzuyu blinks - doting and innocent like the angel everyone probably thinks she is.

But then what you've learned about the angels that Sana brings you: they're devils in disguise, well familiar with the sin and lust that resides in these places; sunk into the cushions of the couch, pressed against the cold pane glass of a window, wound tight in the springs of a mattress. You had long thought - and think, you do, particularly when doing the unthinkable - it's easier that way, to leave aside thoughts of right and wrong and ask: Just how far can an angel fall?

"Ah. Perfect," Tzuyu says, sounding like an answer, and her eyes widen as she peels past that band of elastic.

Your cock springs forward and bumps into the pad of her finger, which traces the length of it like it's hers to own, to pleasure.

"God," she hums with satisfaction, and even without looking up, or even before you say a damn word, she draws her tongue up along the underside in one swift, wet lick. "Sana you weren’t exaggerating: daddy's cock is fucking gorgeous."

There is that tiny whine, or more precisely a tiny, oh fuck when Tzuyu curls her hand around your shaft. Sana gives her a push. "Say it, Tzuyu," she all but growls at her.

"Daddy," she says, always pausing on the word. Testing it further. "Please."

"Please," Sana mimics in faux-sweetness, repeating it again once you start to nod.

Not that it changes much - the stare that Tzuyu fixes you is charmingly determined, like a challenge. Then, she inhales.

Deep.

That slide into her mouth is smoother than anything, hot and slippery and oh, right - you remember faintly with a shudder: those pretty teeth hidden away behind a perfectly lascivious mouth, so much that a couple sharp, expert brushes are enough to send lightning dancing along your spine. Sana moves her hands across your hips, to the buttons on your night shirt, working her way up until the fabric has fallen to the side and she can open your chest up to the air, let Tzuyu swallow the rest.

This, Tzuyu likes. "Ah," she gasps around you, or she tries to, your cock propped up on her soft little tongue.

She likes the way that feels. The way you fit in her hands, her mouth. And it shows. Her posture curls deliciously, under the satisfaction of her lips wrapping finally having something to wrap around tight, tight, tighter - under Sana's roaming touches, the skirting of her nails down Tzuyu's chest, reaching with slow deliberation across her stomach until there's a whisper of skin across sensitive flesh.

“She’s so fucking wet,” Sana tells you, smiling at Tzuyu from above and fitting a fingernail between her teeth. "Good fucking girl, aren't you Tzuyu?"

The moan that leaks out around the weight of your cock is pure. Pure lust, pure pleasure. Pure perfection. Her tongue flattens beneath you and finds you surging even deeper, a firmer slide of Tzuyu's wet lips that brings you right into the roof of her mouth - as she twists her face around you, a soft scrape against the inside of her cheek.

You sigh.

And Sana sighs back.

"Of course. Always such a hidden talent," she notes, as Tzuyu's perfect mouth moves and plucks and teases your nerves, twirling her tongue around your tip. Again as she swallows you down, slow, savoring.

“Tell me,” you say, because the heat of Tzuyu’s mouth is starting to remind you of a daydream, “how exactly do you know each other?”

"Work," Sana answers, flatly.

"Like-"

"Yup."

"She sings?"

"She does - rather, she will." Sana glances sidelong with a bit of a grin. "You have no idea what that tongue can do to people when it's got some good backing tracks, when it knows a goddamn fucking thing about rhythm. Speaking of," Sana looks down at where Tzuyu has her silky brown head of hair bobbing between your legs.

And then it's clear what she means, Tzuyu humming and rolling your shaft through the flat of her tongue. It's all slick, soaking heat and the tension building and building in your balls, aching, just absolutely desperate for more friction, to be taken and used and stuffed in her throat - or just more of this.

"Here," Sana's fingers are hooked in your pants, helping them off your legs, your ankles, pulling you further to the edge of the sofa. Let me, she's telling Tzuyu, this slight murmur of want she just can't wait on.

"Wait, I'm -" Tzuyu attempts, pulling her lips off the curve of your cock, to where pre-cum is weeping out of its tip, and she kisses it so very tenderly, going back for round two. Round three. She floats her fingers up over her eyebrows, into her fringe, all to tuck some dark, wispy hair gently behind her ear when she starts to hollow her cheeks and again suck your cock in earnest.

Until -

"Tzuyu," Sana reprimands her, "don't play, daddy's got his work cut out for him tonight. So be a good girl, and let me show you what he likes."

It takes a second, maybe three. It might take longer if Sana didn't have her fingernails digging into her thighs, sliding further to grab hold of Tzuyu by the hair and pull her lips off your shaft. There's a thin trail of spit coming off her mouth and stringing across you. Sana closes her fist in the back of Tzuyu’s hair and doesn't so much as blink while studying the look on her face: lips glistening, just absolutely needy, like she can't help the whimper in her throat.

"Hm?" Sana cocks her head to the side.

"But... sir."

"You are his toy," Sana explains, flashing her eyebrows because apparently it needs to be said, "not the other way around."

And it may be the first time you've seen it happen since Sana walked in with Tzuyu and declared her intentions: the fluster, the pink spread across Tzuyu's features like some scarlet-lettered stain. Defenses dropped like a draw-bridge. She's not quite every bit as cool and composed as she wants the two of you to think she is. (They never are.)

But the fact that Tzuyu's coy little smile returns into her lips - how she's wiping the spit off her mouth with the sharp edge of her hand and pointing your cock in Sana's direction with a delicate, arched brow, how she then moves on, untangling herself from Sana's grasp, eyes heavy, but on her - is a marvel in and of itself.

It’s an amusing surprise, a welcome one, for the simple reason that Tzuyu keeps showing both of you that she can have anything she wants exactly like this: wrapped around a slender fingertip, flushed and helpless, and without breaking a sweat.

"Have you considered daddy wants both our mouths on his cock and maybe a few less words?" Tzuyu scoffs. And even though Sana does scoff right back in retort, that's exactly how it plays out.

(And you may, upon occasion, reflect: you're a real lucky bastard.)

Sana always puts on this act. One that you’ve learned to see right through.

Like she isn't too eager to follow the momentum, that she hadn't just been just as impatient to touch you - to be on her knees with Tzuyu, all aside this beautiful girl who gives you a pretty smile when her tongue finds the base of your cock. Who likes being bossed around but can just as easily turn her face towards yours - in what seems almost like a taunt - as if saying: You know what else I like? to be challenged, and sometimes when the mood’s right, pushed and punished.

But Sana doesn't let you see what kind of resolve she has until she's gone another minute, licking, lapping her tongue around your cock - this is her idea, after all. The little white dress in a heap, the adoration and worship that comes with fucking girls she knows are the prettiest things to see ruined.

Listen - even if Sana’s veneer is as blatantly obvious as it is shatterably thin, she’s no less dangerous.

When she first pushes the very head of your cock inside her mouth, and just that - because why rush it, she's so fucking perfect with those pretty lips - the rest of your brain is shouting something to the tune of fuck me sideways because she knows you better than anyone, knows what really gets your blood burning.

A few slow brushes, one kiss, this lick that goes bottom to top and over and around. It’s like she's testing the surface, dragging her lips across your aching cock as she settles on a rhythm, a tempo that starts to mirror the movements of Tzuyu's hand.

Tzuyu lets you see: this slow twist, this slide of skin up and down the length of your shaft, her soft fingers rubbing tight circles up and down the path of her palm until it meets Sana’s mouth. And like it’s the most simple thing in the world, she dips down, finds a place at the base of your cock, where Sana’s lips can’t quite reach, and drops a hot, messy kiss right across the spot.

Fuck.

She kisses you everywhere.

"Sana," you start to say, and she looks up through the strands of blonde fallen slightly in front of her face. Her lips sink further down the length of your cock - until she hears your breath catch in the bottom of your throat. Until she’s pulling you up and out, again, just barely past her teeth.

Fuck.

"Mm." She hums it right into your skin, and her eyes are hooded, dipping right down with another pull of spit, and then another, before her lips are at the tip once more, flicking across the slit with her tongue - wet and rough.

"Sana," you try again, biting into your lip as you reach a hand into the gold locks of hair framing her deceptive, pretty little face, and tug, a warning, a reminder. You need. It's too early for you to be repeating yourself, and Sana knows that.

A pop, the release of her mouth slipping off the top of your cock, and Tzuyu moves - wrapping her lips tight and silken around the sides, the rest. It all happens in an instant. You're being taken with the sudden, harsh suction of one mouth, the other, fluid and slipping back and forth again and again.

Sana's nodding along, impressed, as she watches Tzuyu take you - completely, nose to your hip - and has a glint of pure hunger shining through her eyes when you hiss, when she kisses along the lines of Tzuyu's stretched lips. There's another flick of a tongue, and you can feel Tzuyu moan something muffled and choked, a frantic pulse at the base of your spine - pressure gathering like a fucking flood.

"Just how you like it, hmm?" Sana says, her breath warm on your balls as she seals her own mouth right over the base of your shaft. And you swear there's something about this: the drag and suck of both their lips as your hips stutter forward, the feeling of them pressed together in a perfect line, heads tilted and mouths fucking dripping with saliva and sin - your hands, resting on the backs of their heads as they're returning you these greedy little moans that vibrate off the top of your cock and nearly kill you in the process.

“Tell me,” Sana adds, dragging a hot, hazy kiss over the sensitive skin up your shaft. "How's daddy feeling? Hmm? Feels nice and perfect, doesn't it. Feels like you could just let go and release, a hot, sticky load of cum, right down her fucking throat. I know she’ll swallow every drop."

"Fucking hell, Sana-"

Sana doesn't exactly answer to your begging, only hikes Tzuyu a fraction higher over your body to gain better control of the rhythm, and a better view: the hollowed out cheeks, her watery, half-shut eyes, tears welling in her lashes - because the prettiest girls always come apart in the most perfect ways.

You grip into all that silky brown hair, thumb running gently up and over the soft skin behind her ear as she finds an exacting little movement with her lips that will have your spine twitching uncontrollably as you fuck deeper down the perfect arch of her throat, Sana keeping rhythm, guiding you all the way in - a searing heat, and then a new rush of saliva dripping off Tzuyu's chin and back down into the tangle of tongues, fingers, throats, mouths.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The pair of them. The things they're doing.

"Or maybe," Sana muses, tilting her head on an angle that suggests she's weighing her options, and then, massaging a quick, firm twist into the very base of your cock she finally lets spill: "You could make a mess of that perfect face," Tzuyu's faint whimper hardly slips out unnoticed, "I'd hold her hair for you while you cum all over her - how about that baby, should we make a big mess of your pretty face?"

The whimper grows louder - Tzuyu moans long and low, right up against the tightening tension gathering between your hips, right as your balls pull, that familiar coil about to break - and, god, if there's some part of you committed to holding the moment, waiting and wanting to stay in the vision of these two perfect mouths pressed together, it's a fleeting and useless notion - but, as usual, Sana already knows.

The way they're blowing you in perfect tandem, their mouths locked together, kissing around your shaft as they continue to pleasure you, filthy and open - a little more, the thought percolates, a little longer, to let the pressure swell.

"Sir," Tzuyu says, swallowing her next breath, and that's the first you've heard her sound like that: whining, pleading.

She slaps your cock against her lips, her tongue - it's all so wet with spit and precum and slick that her chin is coated, her fingers. A demonstration of what you should have already known: Sana's girls aren't just straight down the line. They want the messy, roughness that comes with the sin; the split in the seam, the wail, the raw, uncut want.

You watch Tzuyu’s lips curl, this quiet smile pressed against your cock, and after a slow draw of air, they fall open again. Asking, "aren't you going to fuck your toy's slutty little mouth?"

The silence of the night swallows up the sounds of Sana's low chuckle and the responding squelch of her fingers tearing free, her hand trailing after. Here’s three bodies in the otherwise ordinary emptiness of your living room, on the edges of the leather sofa, so completely drenched in anticipation and hunger.

There’s a flash across Sana's rounded cheeks, hot, like she's just this small space shy of smirking, or giving into something, you don't know. Tzuyu, however, you've got a fairly clear view of - how her eyes glaze, pupils going wide and dark, staring up at you as she places the shape of your cock so acutely up the length of her perfect features: chin supporting its base, the cute, button-like tip of her nose teasing the soft underbelly of skin pulled taut - a fucked up preamble to whatever the hell it is going to feel like, once she's ready for more.

"Say please, sweetie," Sana says, fluttering her fingers over Tzuyu's neck. And then to you, as an aside: "If there isn't a better way to break in a toy."

When Tzuyu doesn't immediately reply, Sana leans over her, with a fingertip under her chin, guiding her hot, wet lips to the edge of your cock.

"Ask daddy to fuck his filthy little whore."

"Ah," Tzuyu lets out an awkward exhale. "Daddy?" she pauses to swallow, licking her lips, then, with just the slightest inflection, this tight line, right at the border, somehow managing to hit both notes of I'm going to make you beg for it and is it okay for me to be begging you for more: "Please, daddy. Fuck my face."

But then the way she fucking looks - petulant, needy, like if you don't shove your cock down her throat in seconds it could kill her - that's the realest thing you've seen from her since she shuffled through your front door wearing a dress that belongs in someone's heaving, pent up fantasy and left it in a careless pile in the middle of your foyer, tits bouncing on her way into the living room. And somehow, that's a lot to take in: to think this whole debacle has led up to her, this girl you're probably never gonna see again, pressing the pucker of her perfect, pretty lips to the underside of your cock, and -

"Open," Sana cuts in, "your fucking mouth."

Tzuyu gulps thickly and stretches her jaw, blinking expectantly as her pink, slender tongue sticks out the faintest, most insinuating inch.

You lift your hips with one good thrust, the plushness of her mouth becoming soft and velvet as she opens wider, and wider still, and you're balls deep, hilt hitting her lips as she opens her eyes, taking you down her throat, slick and slow.

"Good girl," Sana grins, watching Tzuyu swallow around you.

You may be buried into her throat but the sound of Sana's encouragement has Tzuyu keening, this wrench in her brow like she wants to focus so fucking badly. Only made worse when Sana bundles a handful of Tzuyu's long, glossy hair into a fist and gets her voice into the shell of her ear.

"I know you love it, Tzuyu, how he's fucking taking you, huh? That's it. Show daddy how good of a toy you can be."

And oh, the reaction - the very clear one, no less. Tzuyu grips onto the cushion of the couch, a full set of fingers curling around Sana's forearm, any part of you - the one closest and she's digging her sharp nails into your skin and whimpering for Sana to keep talking like her life depends on it.

"Let me see if you can be as good as you think you are," Sana murmurs, and you shift forward again, bucking your hips just barely but getting there, and then there's more, fuck - getting closer to a good steady pace. Slow, forceful. Hitting the very back of her throat, the bottom of her lips.

Tzuyu can only respond by taking you impossibly deep.

"Remember what you told me?" Sana's biting her lip, finding as much satisfaction out of the mere display.

"Mnnph," Tzuyu chokes out before slipping off your cock, only long enough to gasp for another breath, "I said, I said - all the things I would let him do to me." Her voice sounds so wrecked. Broken. Desperate. Filthy, the kind that needs to be fucked. "Please, please," she says again.

"Tzuyu." Sana's fist tightens in Tzuyu's hair, and down Tzuyu goes. "You sounded so sure, baby - when you said you'd making him fucking cum so easy, how you'd make him bust over and over with this mouth, so -"

You're getting too close. It's really not your fault, it's the two of them. Every wince on your face a result of Tzuyu's swollen, shiny lips wrapped tightly around your cock, cheeks flush and hollow with every move of her mouth. She keeps doing this little flick of her tongue as her lips slide around you - even while Sana lifts her jaw up, down, up down, fucking her mouth onto your aching cock with a sort of callous disregard for how it's fucking her up - how it's fucking you up.

"-the prettiest girls make the best fucking cumrags, you know. Really - makes your toes curl," Sana finishes, giving one particularly pointed tilt of her head at the sight of how bad your knees are shaking.

And then, out the corner of her mouth, teeth locked over her lip, because you're so caught up in how good it feels fucking your length through the vice of Tzuyu's mouth, sliding across her wet tongue - "she's not lying baby, is she? Fuck, I bet she feels so fucking good on you doesn't she" - her voice hoarse and desperate, a hint of something caught at the back of her throat like she can almost taste what it's like. What it must feel like.

Sana pushes, and even she can probably feel you pulsing at the way Tzuyu chokes when the tip meets the drain of her throat.

It gets... it ends up too much, too fast. Borderline abusive - and not just the speed, or the sheer roughness - Nayeon was here on her knees, like this, in the middle of the night not too long ago, and deepthroating you is far from the unusual or accomplished, at this point. But, fuck if that isn't something you build up to.

The slight curve of Tzuyu's arms, rising as they tremble with the effort, the little tears that slip down her cheeks, and those lovely sounds she makes. It's not at all intentional - and you're so stupidly certain Sana didn't think you'd be this riled so quickly, like there's not an ounce of willpower in the world that could save you at this point.

And while that's not too surprising on its own - Sana knows you well, this is what she agreed to - Tzuyu must have understood (it was part of the plan, in fact) what she was walking into, what she was signing up for. But fuck it: she was still pretty new, an amateur. And an amateur just wouldn't be capable of doing the things she does, and looking the way she looks, not to the same extent as this.

"Can you cum from nothing but the feeling of daddy's dick hitting your throat? I'll have him sit back and relax while we work," Sana tells her.

It'd make two of you.

"Would you like that?" she's asking you, tilting her head when you've gathered yourself long enough. "No touching, just take my orders while we pleasure you. How does that sound, daddy?"

"Sana, easy," you practically growl, biting down on the inside of your cheek because the twitch in Tzuyu's pulse has you coming far too undone, her chest hitching and lungs heaving and face wet with spit and tears and cum as it's spilling down her chin. You're seconds from telling Sana to dial it back when a low, guttural sound, sputtering, leaves Tzuyu's throat.

The grip in Tzuyu's hair goes loose enough that she pulls herself up, swallowing up as much air as she can.

And fuck, look at the damage: that swollen mess of her red, glistening mouth; the dark runs of mascara and drying tracks that make a ruin of her face, her neck; a heart-stopping shine of white drool. She blinks the tears off her lashes in a moment.

Sana’s eyeing her over the same way a surgeon might approach a task with a scalpel and a careful hand, or perhaps a fisherman surveying the quality of a catch - before tossing it to the back of a truck to be hauled back home. Like the kind of sight she gets just a little too much satisfaction at. And it's the eyebrow she shoots up into her mess of toffee-blonde hair that asks, quietly, too much?

Fuck. Maybe.

But Tzuyu's eyes shift toward Sana's, and without even an ounce of hesitation - without anything more than a heavy exhale - she opens her mouth again so you can see her tongue run across her top teeth, incensed in her lust. More, fuck me, have me, use me she's saying, telling with you the slight indignance in her eyes that Sana finds perfectly irresistible.

Then, as if unbothered by how far your cock had been slotted in her throat, she swallows. Says, "is that all, sir?"

And the sound that follows it, that shuddering sigh - breaking, cracking, shattering into the calm quiet of your apartment - Tzuyu takes you like it's more than enough. She's swallowing it all back down again.

“Fuck, Tzuyu, you’re-” you try, only to have her moan loud, so loud, when she drags her tongue down your cock and swallows around the whole thing in a way that has you gasping. Your hands end up wound tightly in her hair, weaving through the smooth waves, knuckles straining when it really sinks in. Just how deep down her throat you go, so perfectly deep, the stretch of her lips holding on the side of a grimace because she needs it that way. She can't have it any other.

"Go on," Sana murmurs into the side of your face, drawing closer so she's got her nails curled down into your thighs, leaning in to place a wet, hot kiss into your cheek. "C'mon baby, she'd told me she'd let you do anything - said she'd swallow everything, like the fucking cockslut she is."

Sana's chin digs against the bone in your shoulder, eyes unwavering on where you disappear over and over inside Tzuyu's throat. And it's not just that - Tzuyu's hair clenched tight in Sana’s one hand, the other curled hard into a fist around the base of your cock, her harsh breaths washing over the bare skin of your neck. It's fucking indecent, how needy she's gotten. How needy she always gets. You can feel her greedy little lips finding your ear and biting just shy of savage enough to break skin, and licking - flicking across the vein beating down in your throat, and then -

"That's right," Sana says with a low growl when you look at her. "Cum."

An impoverished sound rips right through your chest. Spreads through you like wildfire.

And just like that, you're spilling inside her, thrusts growing unsteady and lost in the wet, searing heat of Tzuyu's perfect, wet lips, slapping and sliding into her throat, spilling on her tongue with every surge of pleasure drumming in your blood.

Tzuyu sinks down further. So deep that the brush of the back of her throat feels like a hand on the hilt of a knife, tearing into the ends of your nerves, where they’ve come alight and been set ablaze.

Sana picks up again whispering into the cuff of your ear. It makes your head feel like it might explode. And you're almost entirely certain that's what will actually happen, when the combined pressure between your ears and that of your cock becoming so desperately spent builds and builds and doesn't stop, as though waiting.

Biding time for some perfect snap.

Only, a tickle at the back of Tzuyu's throat has her choking out. The same uncontrolled way your hips start to falter - shaky, jerky motions instead of any precision or rhythm - and you're tilting and winding your head in circles, jaw tensed, squeezing her scalp and oh, oh fuck. Tzuyu's mouth slides itself all the way off you in one hurried gasp, then two and three, just barely giving her a chance to steady herself, all while you're still leaking thick, white cum all over the slick swell of her bottom lip, up over the ridges of her elegant features, the curves of her cheeks, the high arches of her brows.

Look - you're cumming all over Tzuyu's face. You’re cumming all over her pretty face and she just takes it.

She's, fuck - she's so, so good. And not just because her mouth is fucking perfection, or her eyes are all at once bleary but wide open, watching you twitch, her own cheeks flushing as she stares up at you - trying desperately to breathe, taking a quick lick off the end of your cock, flitting her tongue between her knuckles, because apparently another taste can't hurt.

"Ugh," Sana hushes, right into your neck, "would you just fucking look, see that - god, Tzuyu, how does it feel, does he taste as good as you hoped he would?"

There's a subtle, unmistakable bob in Tzuyu's throat as she's swallowing everything down, the evidence, and a small flash of her tongue. "Good, mmn-" and you can see how she struggles in her restraint to simply say so, to let her hand drift to the 'V' between her thighs and sate that ache.

But even if her body seems ready for more, Sana's finger finds its way underneath Tzuyu's chin to prompt, with one, simple command, "let's get you cleaned up before we give you what you came for. Go on, get our little girl up to the shower, won't you daddy?"

It's a minor miracle the three of you make it upstairs and down the hall without so much as a trip or stumble, the girls with their fingers woven together and hips swaying as you all stagger up. It's a minor miracle you don't pin either of them against drywall or up against a doorway or do any of the number of filthy things on the mind of a man just fucked, still coming down, with two gorgeous, perfect faces - two perfectly sculpted asses - all in arms' reach.

The bath mat is still bunched at the back of your bathroom door. Still damp from the last shower - Sana's last morning here - which you have to pry apart just a little so the two of them can file in.

And well - it does happen. Eventually.

At the sink.

Just inside the en suite of your bedroom.

With Sana, being the way she is.

While the faucet in the shower starts up a shallow stream of water - tap running warm, steaming the length of the mirror and condensing the glass that Sana will soon have Tzuyu's face up against if she has any say in the matter.

"Tzu," Sana says, carding a hand through her hair and bringing a damp washcloth up to the bend of her jaw. There's a slow trace of fingertips across the lines of her neck. "Keep your eyes right on his while I clean you up, ok?"

And then there's the mirror in the center. The three of you arranged - a sort of hierarchy - with Sana stepping forward and adjusting her stance in order to survey, and clean the mess she's made. (What you've made.)

In profile, you can't exactly make out a distinct detail about Tzuyu's face in the reflective surface, only the silvery blur that is the curve of her neck, and the silhouette of the small frame that her long, slim legs form against the cabinet. But the idea's always the same - she's being used like a perfect canvas. Like an empty, ready-to-use doll that you can twist and turn in the ways you want until all your control breaks and you're just fucking into her, or having her lick and suck all over Sana's gorgeous fucking tits while she's bouncing in your lap.

Whichever happens to come first.

"You missed a spot," Tzuyu tells Sana, as though she hadn't missed several - her head tilts in your direction, eyes wide still, endless in depth. Her mouth gives away what's already burning its way through her blood. "Maybe another pair of hands will help?"

"Mine are a little rough around the edges," you explain, coming in close. The bathroom is this tight, congested space, but at the right angle there's plenty of room, even if your hips knock slightly into Sana's body. Tzuyu's delicate body already has her back flush against the sink basin. "You want to feel them?"

She shakes her head, and even though the hunger on her tongue hasn't been satisfied, even after having a good fill, there's something else she'd rather have now.

"I think," she starts, her words cut off by a hitch of breath when Sana's lips travel to the very tips of her hair and work their way up to the soft skin behind her ear. "Rough is good, when... when I'm being," Tzuyu's closing her eyes - partly so that she doesn't fall off the edge so easily, partly to lean into the sensations of two warm bodies, all attention placed solely on her.

"When you're being worked over?" Sana offers.

"Ngh," she responds - with an attempt, as best as she can, at a smile. And then there's one, light, teasing stroke across her jaw, her mouth. Sana's thumb pressed gently into the crease. "When the fucking gets..." and you'll have to fill the gap - finishing her thought with your hands slotting themselves onto the gentle arch of her hips, pressing a kiss that doesn't even come close to satisfaction on the supple dip of collarbone.

She lets out this pretty sound at the feel of your lips, Sana's, all ghosting down her throat.

"Hard and deep?" you say. Sana smirks at this - continues the effort, "A little fucking nasty, huh, sweetheart?"

"Mhm." Tzuyu is, above all else, a little helpless. “Because - you know me so well.”

But make no mistake: Tzuyu is exactly where she wants to be. With the heat radiating off her bare body, she leans into it all, only flinching when your teeth catch her nipple - when Sana's tongue laps a rough circle over the other. The scene, the feelings, all of it orchestrated precisely - these are the things she likes, maybe loves even.

And after the soft sounds slip through her lips, a moan and another hum, she finds her words and voice, "hard and deep and, rough and, ff-"

"And?"

The quick brush of your tongue flickers across the hard tip. The sensation draws from Tzuyu this very faint cry and the exhale of a word: "Fast."

"Naughty little thing," Sana presses into her jaw, pulling back to regard you both. To lift a finger, wet the pad with her tongue - and reach down, down, down until her fingertips brush the very line of her thigh, into the slick between her legs. "I love it when girls get all messy."

"Please," is all Tzuyu has to say, barely anything but, as Sana's finger drags slowly inside her folds.

"Patience baby," she murmurs into Tzuyu's open mouth. The exchange is swift but thorough; you watch, all tongue and spit, and your fingers twitch with a sense of loss. "Why don't you remind me how this went last time?"

"Mm, listen here," Tzuyu says in an astute breath, the sound of it like tables turning. There's a firm pull on your wrist - the grip on it guiding you, encouraging you, just where she wants them, into the band of lace around Sana's impossibly narrow waist. You feel Sana sigh in relief, shiver at the touch of a warm palm up against her thighs, and into a pulse-wet cunt, as though the slightest touch will kill her. "I think you might be remembering wrong, Sana."

"And why might that be?"

"Weren't you the one begging me? When I had two fingers up your cunt in your apartment," Tzuyu presses forward, voice lilt and darkening like ink, and Sana whines and crumbles in her palms, knees buckling when there's one sudden and rough slide of fingers right on the base of her spine.

"Yeah?" Sana asks with a rising blush, already knowing the answer - it's her fatal flaw: she's all sharp edges and pointed teeth, right up to the point there's a finger at her own throat, a cock in her hands and a girl working at her clit until she's drooling. "Are you suggesting I'm easy? Is that where you're heading with this?"

Tzuyu's leaned up against the counter, turning Sana's slender frame around in her hands, until she has her fingers up on the over the wire of Sana's bra, palms hot beneath the thin cups, feeling for her nipples, and the change in dynamic is as palpable as the steam rising in the room.

"Let’s not put words in my mouth," she responds simply, dropping another kiss into the back of Sana’s hair. There's another one laid along the sweep of her neck, like a careful bite, and with a lift of a brow, a look that tells you what you've always known, "but if you’re asking, then sure, the sluttiest of all sluts. Easy," she pulls the cups down Sana’s chest, "as fuck."

It gets to her, clearly, as if that moan falling out of Sana's parted lips could mean anything else.

"Daddy?" Tzuyu asks, because apparently she's enjoying the bit, easing into all parts of the character. She can't seem to contain her grin.

"What is it, sweetheart?" you ask, dipping your finger down into Sana's cunt, and fuck - the girl is so, so slick for it. She needs to be taken and torn, that much is clear. Her whimpers don't get softer as your hips drive into her stomach, pinning her between the two of you.

"Is she always this much of a bratty tease? Or is that just how she gets when she gets all worked up over your perfect cock. I know she's aching to feel it stretch out that tight little cunt of hers-

"It's never been all that clear," you answer, before Tzuyu can start to say anything further. A moment of composure, in case Sana wants you to step in.

Except that, she doesn't exactly interrupt the play you and Tzuyu are setting up: "So," Tzuyu remarks instead. "Just for me then."

"It's possible."

The room suddenly feels very full, very small.

"Right. Okay. Well then," you say - watching carefully, when Tzuyu gives you an appraising glance. Sana squirms again beneath the pressure of all these fingers printing over her sensitive skin - she'd love to fuck this. Or be fucked.

"That means you'll have to take good care of your needy little princess, won't you daddy?"

It's surprisingly fitting.

Though it hasn’t been that long, all things considered.

Not since Sana effortlessly waltzed her way into your life. And slightly less-than-that, the time it took her thereafter to find herself bouncing in your lap and tugging at your hair while you struggled for breath between her tits. This perfect storm, caught somewhere between laughing and choking and definitely, definitely falling.

It's been a year, maybe. If that. But that's plenty to know.

Know every tilt of her mouth, every sly grin. The different moans that shake loose from the curve of her lips.

Know what it means when Sana's palms hit the tiles of the shower wall, fingers splaying as she goes quiet and submissive, letting out the barest noise of frustration as Tzuyu spreads her tongue over the pucker of her ass - know that the knuckle you curl up in her cunt has her that much closer to unraveling in a stream of whimpers, needy fucking pants and a hoarse sound of gratitude.

Ostensibly for getting her so perfectly, perfectly raw.

"Fuck, yes, that," Sana barely manages, between the messy swipe Tzuyu's tongue makes over her hole. Just this thorough lick, drawing tight, swirling circles around her, lapping at the wetness before making a hot and steady pass over the sensitive stretch of skin, drenching it in spit until Sana's scrambling against the hard surface.

She's not close to going quiet: her cheeks look rounder, like she can hardly keep her noises under control as Tzuyu eases a single fingertip inside the tense muscle of her rim and uses the stretch and warmth of the water raining down her spine, to slip in deeper. Sana's sighing as Tzuyu eats her like an act, an invitation.

You push your fingers deep, deeper, slick, pulling, rubbing, coaxing Sana's mouth apart even as your lips press wet into her cheek. She groans louder, needier, with your hand flexing up a three-finger graze over that bundle of nerves. The kind that makes her back fucking arch.

"You," Sana sputters open like a struck match, burning bright in the steam-cloaked shower, "you, you, you," and it’s not really clear who she’s cursing, "going to - you're going to - you're going to make me-"

"Oh no," Tzuyu sings, starting to straighten herself out - until she’s reminding Sana that she’s the smallest of the three of you and in a possible sort of danger.

She reaches an open palm into the stream of water and splashes off the slick running down her mouth, her chin, her neck - gaze anchored to Sana's trembling figure. It's just one, heavy exhale into the hot, hazy air: "You've got it all wrong.”

Sana twists her head around, face still so wildly attractive amidst the look of worry and that flush of pink taking over from the bottom half. The tiny, imperceptible dip in her brows.

But before she can give voice to a complaint, Tzuyu has her spun by a rough grip around her waist, pinning her back to the tile - water beating down the rise of her breasts and the tops of her shoulders.

"If you're going to cum baby, it'll be all over his thick cock, getting your whole cunt so stretched and stuffed full it'll feel like he's cumming up inside your guts."

You and Sana share this wistful groan of a sigh after Tzuyu wraps her long fingers around your cock, aims you true, and brings you close. Closer. Until you can feel Sana's pulse at her cunt, lips wet and slippery and dripping, just a few inches from where the tip of your cockhead nudges the insides of her thighs. Sana's stomach is seizing in a fluttering of heat and -

"Do you like hearing her beg? That's good. Because this girl's gonna do everything she can to make sure you fuck her raw before you even let her come," Tzuyu's voice lowers, a deep register. "How long can you last, Sana?"

Sana gives you this look, all anticipation and pleasure, holding it for longer than is strictly necessary - and then, her pert little mouth falls open, keening, hissing out a shallow, almost painful, "fuck" the moment you bend at the knees and slip inside.

The feeling that washes over you is a beautiful elixir of relief, an indomitable kind of want, tinged with something heavier, and with just the tiniest hint of longing in the sense that this is not enough, nowhere near enough. It never is.

"God, Sana," is all you manage. All you want to.

Sana doesn't wait around any longer before giving you an impatient shimmy of her hips, fucking herself further down the length of your cock, like she wants to choke on it. And the feeling of it, well, she does it well - the tight warmth swallowing you to the base, her cunt squeezing you all at once, slick and smothering. Fuck, it's all in her eyes. How badly she wants to be held down, split apart. How tightly your fist finds itself locked around Sana's long, wet strands of golden hair as Tzuyu closes any semblance of distance - brushing her lips over where she can tease Sana's open and slack mouth, licking down inside, panting.

"Baby, you are so close, I can feel you trembling," Tzuyu teases, running her fingers up Sana's stomach, cupping steady the breast she can fit in her palm. She drops another messy kiss on Sana’s throat and hums: "Go ahead, cum. I'm sure he doesn't mind.”

"You're such a prissy fucking- nnh-" Sana's words skirt right over Tzuyu's fingertips before they're shoved roughly across the swell of her lower lip and into the back of her mouth. If Tzuyu's intent was to prove a point, she's about as successful as can be - Sana can only gag quietly around her digits, working her jaw over them.

"Sana, shh-shh-shh, baby, don’t fight it; just cum around around his cock, don't put yourself in a corner and try to play games - he'll fuck you right, until you scream, I promise, and-"

It hardly ever takes much. That's something you've come to appreciate: Sana can't ever help it. With the way it actually feels, you pressing right up against where the rest of her cinches so impossibly tight. She was practically teetering on the edge, on the very cliff and within reach of falling right off of it the instant you fit the very hilt of your cock up the molten-hot stretch of her perfect cunt, sliding, fucking into her while water sprays all over her quivering body, so soft beneath the wash of rain.

One of Sana’s long legs gets wrapped around your waist and you can feel her nails start to dig through the muscles in your shoulders.

Tzuyu smirks right into Sana's temple, biting at the slickness of her skin, running the curve of her thumb around the length of Sana's jugular, and sucking with her teeth when Sana cries out. "How does our girl feel wrapped around you? Wet, huh? Needy?"

"Unbelievable," you answer honestly - and maybe that's the point; Sana's pussy is incredible. Hot and silky and absolutely unreal. There’s no question, whether she's a work of art, or if she'll fuck you up, but you love that part.

“Ruin her for me, won’t you?” Tzuyu prompts, with that twinkle of mischief you're rapidly becoming accustomed to. "She looks even prettier when she's fucked out. I know you know that."

She does, she does, she does.

Your hips snap, up, fuck in - Sana mewling around the shape of Tzuyu's first two fingers - then back, drawing the motion slow, long, full - until you’re crashing forward and sinking up into that warmth you know is spreading across every inch of Sana’s body, swallowing her up inside-out as her legs start to shake and give and her tongue laps recklessly along the outline of Tzuyu's knuckles.

Sana knows she likes to play at coy and control, but this is never part of the act - your cock fucking her submissive pussy apart - it’s hard to argue she doesn’t love how you can come to own her: hot and fast and filthy, leaving her breathless and desperate, every thrust into her tight cunt punctuated with some pretty whimper. And here, she just… there isn't the luxury, there's nowhere to hide.

Nowhere to run or shy or look away.

Tzuyu curses when finally Sana bites down, part of a long sequence of reflexes that bloom from the depth you fuck up into her cunt. And with her voice back in her throat (Tzuyu's fingers shaking out the sharp pain) she fucking whines into it, unable to stop the steady line of nonsense tumbling past her lips, incoherent except for the single-minded purpose of her own release.

"Fuck, daddy, fuck," Sana repeats in the same way she always does, getting fucked, the letters collapsing into each other. "I'm cumming, fuck, fuck, so fucking wet. God, you're, fuck, right there, oh - I'm cumming, daddy, I’m fucking cumming," is the all further she gets, muddied with the sound of your slicked-up thighs moving in quick rhythm with the beat of your heart, slapping loudly against her skin - loud enough so that the neighbors can probably listen in through paper thin walls.

Then she goes silent, face painted with it all. She isn't crying, the tears won't come, but she's gone this quiet sort of wide-eyed that matches the way she's mouthing, cumming, over and over, you’re pulling me a-fucking-part.

And you believe her. You have to.

Just look at the way her legs are doing all the wrong things. Thighs tensing taut, muscles giving out - she’s slipping down the tiles, back bending and flexing and going limp all at once. Tzuyu's already moving, scooping her up like it's something rehearsed, before you even have to ask, "Tzu, help me hold her up, won't you?"

“Tzu, huh?”

It's not much, but it is worth noting: how Tzuyu, her fingers curling and interlacing between Sana's, holds the girl like she's breakable. Tenderly, cradling Sana's small body against her chest.

"Do you slip into pet names and all that with every girl Sana brings around? Or am I," and when Tzuyu tilts her head, her smile has this very palpable bite, "the exception?"

"Every pretty girl thinks they're special, sweetheart."

Tzuyu just glimpses one downward look into Sana, shivering, riding her orgasm down into nothing, and drops a kiss into her hair. A gentle chuckle: "And when have I ever given you a reason to doubt it?"

"Shameless," is all Sana offers up, beyond exhausted, trying and failing to take more than a passing, somewhat disgruntled interest in the scene unfolding around her, while she clings to the strength Tzuyu and the tile and your hands are putting into her body.

Meanwhile Tzuyu, this devil of a daydream - this tall, skinny thing of long hair and smirking lips and cheekbones as sharp as her wit, has her gaze locked. Still curious, and all but relentless - there's more she's dying to say. It seems almost impracticable that such a lovely woman would really be this way, weapons concealed under all that good-girl charm. And in its most uncomplicated form, that's what it is: an open invitation.

You've only managed the vaguest outlines, after all. "Do you mind?" you ask again.

The next movements feel more elegant than they probably are. Cradling Sana's limp body between you, finding a steady hold.

There’s a slight shuffle to discover a proper balance, a hand slapping the glass of the shower door, and yeah, Sana's fucked out. Slurring out sounds that might resemble the shape of words if she had the presence of mind. The rest are whines and whimpers, obscene in all ways.

“Baby,” Tzuyu tells Sana in a growling kiss to the back of her ear. "Keep your fucking legs up."

(That’s a cue if you were looking for one, to get your arms fastened around Sana's small waist as she leans heavy into your chest.)

"More," The girl in your arms starts to complain, when you truly start fucking her.

"Hurt - hnn, please, more - fuck - harder," and all those sharp edges, that arrogance and conceit, it's all gone. Her pupils are blown out, an animal-like-desire set in its place - these are your invitations to wreck her, you realize, pushing so deep into her well-fucked cunt that she arches, and that her head knocks against Tzuyu's, that the small room is entirely empty save for these movements under the metal cloud of shower water, falling like rain.

This is all there is.

Tzuyu, smirking like she herself might get off on this.

Sana, begging.

And when Tzuyu buries a hot smile at her throat, nibbling at the skin - urging her, urging you, this sharp, "now give her the fucking dicking of a lifetime, will you?"

When Sana’s reduced down to her pleas of, please, harder daddy, and deeper, god, I can feel you so deep -

Well,

You’re all instinct. You sink your fingers into the firm skin of her ass, grab at the soft, slippery flesh around her hips. You sink your cock into her hole again and again.

The stretch is obvious and absolutely devastating, making Sana cry out and muffle her face in your shoulder. She makes a weak sort of sound around your neck - it could be anything, maybe please don't stop, or maybe please do - it doesn't matter.

"You look incredible like this baby, does he fuck you well?" Tzuyu croons, curling around her so her head rests on her shoulder - eyes watching Sana, meeting yours. "Oh, come on, aren't you always telling me about how it makes you feel - all this, full and hot and better than anyone? Now's your chance, no hiding from him. Or me."

"It's so, god it's - I -"

"Come on," Tzuyu squeezes out one long, eager moan with her hand dropped onto Sana's breasts, pulling and kneading like she owns it. "Tell him to cum in you baby, like the good fucktoy you are, let him cum up into that creaming pussy until you’re all sticky and leaking cum all over, just the biggest fucking mess."

There is measurable irony, you suppose, in how Sana brings these friends of hers back with the clear expectation to be fucked and torn apart, how they each want the same, all wanting to get her unraveling and her knees buckling. Only Tzuyu manages, more efficiently than anyone you've ever seen, to leave her all wanton and squirming against your hard, relentless thrusts into her needy cunt.

It's easy: this isn't difficult, there is nothing hard about falling for each and every promise her face has to offer - knowing her body's secrets and drawing the story out, line by line, so you can fall in love with it over and over, all while Sana starts to go helpless at the shape of your cock filling up that tiny, wanting cunt.

So you cum. Inside her. In one final push, filling her completely.

Sana opens her mouth like she's trying to say something - say yes - say daddy, say fuck yes daddy.

"That's it," Tzuyu strokes down Sana's belly. "I knew it - now keep your pretty thighs shut. Can't let even a drop out, understand?"

"Yes, fuck. It's - fuck - good, he feels," Sana finally sobs, chest heaving as you grind the last little bits of cum deep, so far and hot as it can get. All the way in. Where it's hot and wet and throbbing and slick.

Where it should stay, because you never pull out. You savor the last bit of your pulse, sporadic and lethargic. Because in truth - your mind is made and your mouth won't say it because you don’t need to.

Tzuyu's wringing the water out of Sana's hair, picking the strands into careful folds. "Alright then," and her grin is positively lecherous.

There's a bench in the corner of the shower where you eventually arrive, panting now that you realize it, and Sana makes herself at home right in your lap, face buried in your shoulder. Grinding her hips down in this almost imperceptible circle, circling back and feeling. Holding you inside and murmuring into your collarbone.

(Fucked, Sana is simply and unfairly beautiful.)

It’s all in that exhale of a moment, when Tzuyu catches water in cupped palms from the shower-head, wiping away what stray tracks of soapiness left on Sana's shoulder-blades and breasts and thighs. Her hands all up and down her body, sudsing the crease between leg and torso, down lower still, around her sensitive pussy and her folds.

You wonder if she can hear you swallow.

"Maybe we should actually wash up before we go again?"

The first thing Sana's free hand goes for when she stumbles through the threshold of your bedroom is a hair band you didn’t know she was storing in the top drawer of your dresser. She fidgets around keeping her towel wrapped tightly around her chest as though modesty were an option at this point.

"What?" she asks, fixing you with a slightly-irritated, slightly-teasing smirk. "You look like you have something you want to say."

"Nothing." You laugh out loud. "It's nothing. I'm just waiting."

She makes this face at you, guilty - so sorry about the contraband - as she twists her wrists and pulls the hair band round her middle-finger, wrapping her palms around her knot of wet blonde and bundling it into a half-assembled ponytail. It leaves the length of her nape exposed and vulnerable, neck flushed pink-from-showering in all the most wonderful of places.

"Waiting," is what she hones in on.

Tzuyu is pulling out of the bathroom. Her hands, washed clean and dried off with a fluffy, off-white towel. When she sets it down, she steps back, leaning on the frame. "He's waiting, for what I wonder?"

She's made of all things smooth-and-sharply-cut. Even from here, even through the sleep-haze fog, the silhouette of her nude figure gives itself to a small sense of anticipation. The long and smooth sweep of her chest, from breast, up and out, and then tapering along down to where her hips flare. She takes a step and then another and lets her fingers ride her side, from the very top of the shallow indentation in the dip of her waist, up. Then the tautness of her abdomen and further still, running slow and over the breast, coming to cup its full weight, pushing the bottom of the curve outwards.

"Waiting to," and she wets her lips in something akin to expectation. "Pound me into the fucking bed?"

You’re smiling when you explain, "I was going to say a request…"

Tzuyu’s dimples deepen. "You mean, like, we can tell you what to do?”

You sit on the bed, which is actually more of a proposition than you realize. "I suppose."

"Sana, sweetie, is there something I should be doing for him," Tzuyu looks up, wearing that trademark kind of playful expression that is definitely deliberate and not at all a tell. "Or maybe I've got this all wrong and you know exactly what you want."

"Well," you manage in reply, sounding surprisingly sane. "Don't both start coming forward with any ideas you have no intention of following through."

"And what if I have no ideas at all? What would you tell me then," is the challenge you find hanging around the slender outline of Tzuyu's wrists, and then at the back of her fingers, as she cards her hands through her hair and pulls it prettily over rise-and-falls of her collarbones, until it's barely curtaining her breasts.

(Barely.)

She crosses over to the bed - to you and Sana - and without much other movement than that, finds a knee on either side of you to let a lone fingertip skirt the tops of your hips. Flirting with the towel around your waist.

"For the record," Tzuyu says, flicking a glance at Sana and leaning down into your jawline. The palm she slides over your thigh is so warm, so promising of its heat and pressure you'd swear you can almost taste the touch of her. "I never, ever go back on my word."

"Try me," you tell her.

"I do have some, ideas." Every time her fingernail ends up between her teeth, it’s another drop in a well that runs god knows how deep. "Though very few of them involve this towel."

“And about the ones that do?”

"Well," Tzuyu starts to purr - reaching a hand down and spreading the flat of her palm on your chest, "I figured if I ever wanted something to bite down on, well, you know."

It's just a subtle little rock - and the perfect view: she starts like this, her hair all tucked behind one shoulder, the arch of her back lifting. Slow at first, Tzuyu only pausing after every other short breath to lick and kiss your lips with hers, and the edges of her teeth, all soft and insistent. You are sure - that with a subtle twitch, a minor jerk of the knee or hip - she is almost right over the perfect place, and when her hips grind in these micro-friction little motions that have her sighing and pushing herself flush, it's clear that all she's looking to do is rub her cunt down all over the erection you've been holding in since the last time your towel was hanging somewhere above your waist.

"Hold, please," Sana interrupts, when she leans over and plucks something out of the messy contents of the nightstand - a few hair clips, and, more importantly, a condom. She swears aloud when the package tears the wrong way, but she's quick to apply a lip balm-slick finger-tip on the inside of the ring, and hands the thing to Tzuyu by way of a passing roll, "so, I assume you've got this under control."

"Give me that."

"Mm. Have at it."

There is an intrusive thought that finds its place, wedged somewhere at the base of your skull when Tzuyu starts the careful act of lowering herself down your shaft - like this, it has an inevitability - a forward momentum, the familiar sense of excitement building a force in your heartstrings. Sana must have a similar sensation, as she scoots her ass and slides one hand over the same place you feel that force thrumming, her palm reaching right for Tzuyu's ass, while Tzuyu hisses out a tiny sound at the added stretch.

"Careful," Sana says, fingers drawn back from the cleft of Tzuyu's beautiful ass with a string of slick that's unmistakably arousal. "You try going back after having his cock. And trust me, there's nothing to go back to. Like, ever."

"That must be why you're always like this," is Tzuyu's cock-sure comeback, finding herself flush with your hips.

You're biting down. You're holding back. You're probably digging nails into your palms hard enough to break skin, because you could be double, triple wrapped, latex running up your length like a goddamn balloon and you'd still feel the hot, melting perfection of Tzuyu's pussy swallowing your cock in one, slick, seamless motion. There isn't any sound either more pleasing than that hitch-groan-slip you hear as Sana helps guide Tzuyu's hips back, forth, back again and to a steady beginning of this proper pace: smooth and full.

You both need a second, because, fuck - and she's biting into a grin. Eyes already half lidded as the speed builds. As Tzuyu starts really enjoying the drag of it, the feeling. The god-damn-fucking-stretch.

"Oh? Like what?" Sana asks, smirk filling out her lips to bridge the silence you're both groaning into. "Like what?"

"Greedy," Tzuyu says. The only part that really needs to get filled in. "Because he fucks the self-control right out of you."

Now Sana lets that settle, and it's not like she doesn't know. Or doesn't understand. And still, "Mm. That does sound like me, doesn't it, daddy?"

(Yeah, well- you- )

Tzuyu watches you watch what happens next: Sana peeling out the cotton slip of her bath towel - sizing up just how good Sana looks. Fuck-me-raw.

And then she laughs, deep and gorgeous. "Didn't he just do a number on you - hn, god. Can you hear him all up inside me? Fucking, splitting me apart."

It's true.

All of it.

The way Tzuyu rides your cock. Faster, faster, rolling her body and drawing her hands together behind the length of her hair and neck until the point of her chin is upturned, showing off the hollow of her throat. A tension that glitters with sweat.

The tightening in the space between the bottom of her ass and your cock - all of it is heaven. This slow-and-rough, rough-and-fast. Tzuyu picks the tempo of it to fuck out a particular pleasure that has you catching her and pulling her closer to your body, holding her through the upward grind, where your cock meets the heat of her cunt - pressing her closer.

That's it.

Possessive. That's what both girls have the good grace to read.

Sana's hands come up Tzuyu's ribs, fingertips skirting the muscle-taut-surface of her stomach, the bumps and grooves of her ribs, and up further still, riding the path of her breasts as they're bobbing-jostled and going full-on heavy - her thumbs go at her nipples. Rolling around the hardened tips - the faintest tug at them, enough to start to pull - then just teasing them between thumb and forefinger and loving the sight of you wincing. Loving that you love that.

"She's pretty, isn't she?" Sana laughs.

"It's a real show," you bite the compliment out. The very least you can get to.

(You'll be fucked if you can hide how much you want to stay buried in this girl and cum a fucking waterfall between those perfect, creamy thighs. Oh, she knows. The dirty little smile, the filthy laugh, you're holding tight - even if the act is useless.)

"Like how she clamps down," she hums. "That's the part I've always loved, you know. She just does everything so slow, so fucking good, so... deliberate."

There's a fist in Tzuyu's hair and no trace of sympathy or self restraint in her friend when Sana tells her, "Baby, ride him slow for me, can you do that?"

When Tzuyu sucks a hiss through her teeth, mouth caught around the sharp intake, Sana just licks a slow line along the curve of her lower lip - as though saying, baby, like the slut you are, remember who asked nicely?

And it turns out: slow is worse. You can feel every tiny tremor of friction, every little shift of Tzuyu's cunt squeezing you. Clinging tightly. Your fingers wrap around her rib cage and hold her right as her ass hits your lap, while her head rolls back into her own hair. It is enough, finally, to draw an out-of-breath little pant out of her, making a beautiful blush crawl and spread across her cheeks - there.

(Oh, fuck, your brain echoes. So, you want slow, that's what the noise from your throat says as she eases back, rising up. So slow, you-can-feel-all-of-me. She makes the effort so flawlessly, it's fucking you both over, because she's looking at Sana with this flutter-beat look, eyes wide, wet and round and pleading.)

It gets that much worse the minute Sana pushes her down by the shoulders. Giving her some resistance. Showing you both she can take you inch by slow goddamned inch.

"Harder. Deeper, sweetie."

Tzuyu does everything Sana says she'll do, loving her fingers in her hair, pulling tight. Control given as easily as that. Because she looks just how she feels: utterly surrendered. A helpless kind of want, like there's something broken in her chest when the head of your cock pushes her deep, deep. To the point she feels something more than an ache.

"Want it," Tzuyu whispers out against Sana's smile. "From the back, like you promised," she says, and takes the shudder out of your breathing.

Sana cups her jaw, laughing. She puts one arm around Tzuyu's throat and bites at her chin, at her ear. "I bet he'd do just about anything to give you what you want, baby."

Tzuyu’s hips snap down onto yours again. Melting your cock in this thick, molten heat.

And again, faster. Needier.

The kind of movements across your lap that make everything louder - a beautiful chorus of small-sounds. Slaps and squelching. Wet and gasping and begging and skin-on-skin. You'd never, ever considered the act a competition before, not with Sana. But when Tzuyu seems to be seeing who can pull the most erotic of noises out from underneath your ribcage - or the highest pitched sigh - the wetter and louder it all gets -

"Sana."

"Tzu."

Tzuyu rides the pressure and finds her voice, head thrown back, jaw slack. "Sana - tell him to, I'm gonna, soon. Tell him what to do."

"Beg for him," and Sana gives her the fakest-of-all-pouts when she slips her hand along Tzuyu's inner thigh, nearing her where the two of you meet, then slowing her pace, bringing you both to an immediate stand-still, while her fingertips continue, ghosting across the shape of your stomach. "He doesn't need anything less than the truth."

Tzuyu's face. It's the most gorgeous thing you've seen. Her hips are winding slow against you when you hit a spot you're not entirely sure either of you can recreate at your own whim: deep inside. Her eyes as wide as they can be. All of her sharp edges now just these subtle things - the very shape of the shadow beneath her clavicle, the tensing of her thighs at your sides, the gentle lines that curl up from the wide bottoms of her hips when your fingers thread up her belly, palm open flat.

"I want," is where Tzuyu starts, not hiding it any part. "I want you to bend me over the bed."

And in a breathless voice:

"Please, please let me have what I want. Just bend me over the bed, shove my legs apart and take me. Hold me down. Fuck me and fill me and don't let me move or say a thing. Until we're both fucking finished."

You swallow. Hard.

Because here's what Sana's brought you: this tall brunette with an impossibly beautiful ass and thighs to die for, a sin-full mouth. The curves in her waist and back and tits a distraction, that you might try to map out until you're so lost you forget how to leave, how to ever take your cock out of this tight cunt.

"Is that a thing you can do?" Tzuyu practically purrs in one long tone, pushing herself up your waist, until your cock falls out and hangs there. Until you can only see all of this clear, gorgeous skin in front of you and hear her pretty little moan. "God, please, daddy, I’m begging you."

(She says this last part in a way that lets you know this isn't something either of you will get over easily, the kind of pleasure, the feeling and the flash. She's unreadable - almost, not quite- just too honest, there's nothing else for you to believe. Maybe that's where the shiver comes from, or your palms itching, or the sounds of your bedding ruffling as you spin her onto her back, her tummy - pull up on her hips until they're sky high and you can palm her breasts, let her press her knees up and apart on the duvet. Until you get that first look down the column of her spine and the sudden, stunning shape of her ass in a view you never want to say goodbye to.)

Tzuyu slides her hands across your sheets, all this stretch. A flex of muscle. When she opens her hips and you push two fingers deep, inside, easy - then back out -

"How much of that," Tzuyu interrupts, blushing furiously, "do I have left to beg with? Please."

- because she's been soaked and aching all day just thinking about it. Just begging for a good fucking - or so she told Sana, who now giggles and leaves small kisses up the ridge of her spine, crawls alongside the dip-line of the mattress, and after curling her fingers around the column of Tzuyu's throat - smooths a single fingernail up and down and presses, tracing, the groove of her jaw as you nudge your cock against her.

It’s not on purpose, this needlessly drawn-out moment - simple brush of latex against her slick, dripping folds, the tightening in her core and how it matches the tension in Sana's wrist and the coarseness of the bed-linens and the hardness of you - but everything eventually folds, into her.

And you're not helping, the way you're fastened to the narrow point of her waist like it's a handle. Your thumbs riding the arch of her hips, taking every opportunity to sink your fingers hard into the flesh, grip tighter and push, pulling Tzuyu, if only to really work that friction between your hips.

"Fuck, it's all in. Finally." Sana gasps like she's the one being bent, arched, fucked from behind, then lays herself down against the length of Tzuyu's shoulder, chin bumping her cheek. Watching Tzuyu. Taking it all in.

You have a hard time making it out, but Tzuyu starts this half-whimpered litany about how she needs to be fucked (that is, roughly - deep and long, or maybe rough and short and deep, or whatever, as long as it makes her lose composure), followed with some shoddy mix of cursing and your name and Sana's - the things all three of you might consider for another chance meeting.

And as you're following up the suggestion with a low groan, that's exactly how you notice that grind in her hips - a jerk back, a twist, bucking against you. She feels so, so incredibly tight when she writhes onto you, squeezes. Like she wants to tear her heart out her chest, she's so overwhelmed. So thoroughly and totally taken by this fuck. By you. "Harder," is all she says.

This one line does it, then two more. All in-and-out thrusts from behind, fuller the second time, then the third.

Only when you find Tzuyu peering back over her shoulder with a pair of eyes that say, please, pretty-please, all liquid and warm and wanting. "Fucking ruin that cunt, I want - god. Do you have the slightest idea how much," and that is where the words disappear into a slow and sticky whine.

"Yeah baby," Sana whispers.

She knows what it is. Tzuyu wants so much more, so you give it. Give her the just-this-side-of-ruthless fucking and the slow-pace grind you know can push her right over the edge. Give her more, all of you, and get her hands twisting in the pillow and grabbing fistfuls of sheets, burying her face into the space above her wrists and nearly choking on her hair with how she moans and yelps - loud.

Her whole body jolts forward the next time. The arch to her back deepening. Body drawing in on a flawless line.

Tzuyu does cum. Eventually.

She keens and rolls and begs you not to pull out or slow, just stay put and fill her with your cum - keep fucking going, please. The only thing keeping her from landing flat on your mattress as she practically unravels around your cock are fingers you have under her hips, tightening. Bruising.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck me, you’re,” you’re railing out of her lungs, where the words hang on sex-stale air.

First with Sana whispering promises into her ears and letting Tzuyu swallow, and suck around the length of her index, then two, fingers. Then licking a kiss into her mouth, tongue tangling up hers and finishing up the act with, "cum for us, Tzu, like the sweet girl you are - you take him so well."

Then, with your hand held over her ass-

(She could cry from it. From how everything pulls you in, like a riptide, and, really, with no regard for things like safety or drowning.)

-the utterance off her lips has your stomach twisting into knots:

"Keep," you hear her ask Sana. Barely getting the words out as you ride, fast. "Please, keep, telling him that I - god."

It gets worse before it gets better.

"I can't - I need; fuck, I can’t, with the rubber, I want him," and Sana smirks like she knew all along. "Sana, please-"

"You want the real thing, sweetie. Isn't that right, baby? Hm. Of course it's okay," and Sana soothes a hand through her friend's fringe, pushes it away from her eyes and over her ears, making something that sounds like an adoring laugh slip out. "You want him to fuck his cum so deep in that pussy, I know you do, don't worry."

When you slow down the grinding, wipe the sweat from your face, Sana gets your attention and nods to the very place your cock is disappearing between the cheeks of Tzuyu's ass, "go ahead. If you want the mess-up, sweetie - let's make sure that's exactly what he'll give you."

Who exactly wants what most is hard to say. Sana's the one pulling off the condom, the rubber stretching to an obscene limit that has you fearing for your life should it snap back before it breaks. Tzuyu is already a sort of gaping mess with it all, her own fingers snuck under to rub harsh circles in the absence of cock and something firm and heavy to fill her. To feel full.

And there's you, asking, or maybe, double-checking: "Tzuyu, you're saying you want me to-"

"She doesn't care," is what you're interrupted with, courtesy of Sana. "Fuck a baby into her cunt, that's what she wants."

(Like you wouldn't fucking love it too. Or have the frame of mind to even begin to unpack all of that.)

It’s a lot, admittedly.

And not just because Tzuyu has never looked better: on all fours, pressed, and presented. Legs all the way apart and ass and thighs in your grip, with that smile all pointedly certain and wild-eyed, like, she knows, that you know exactly what to give her - what she really wants - filling her so full and marking your claim by fucking your cum right to her very core.

Tzuyu drags her head back, so she can peek over her shoulder and meet your eyes.

She does things. Like sighing this small sound and laughing and - she has this thing for noises, for things breaking under the strain, where she won't say a word, except to murmur some part of your name into your jawline, a raggedness in her breathing. Sheer hunger.

"I want - want you to, fuck me."

You will. Or you are. Or you're going to, only - Sana's lips are fast around your cock, fingers fluttering delicately between your thighs and drawing these stuttering sounds in your breath, "I will. I will. I'm - I will."

Sana just hums, copper hair bobbing in place. Her hot mouth and wet fingers pulling and sliding and pulling and sliding. Tongue moving in all the ways she knows you like.

Which, here’s a fact: Sana can be mean. No one would believe it.

But sometimes this is the price of admission. You have to be honest about what it takes, how, exactly, you intend to break this beautiful brunette whose ass is swaying back and forth in this mesmerizing little waggle of the hips. It's hard not to marvel, not to ask questions and not wonder at what a pair of friends so similar and so opposite do to each other and other people and to themselves in those small, private hours and space no one else shares, that has you panting and burning and her clasping the hollow of your neck and asking with her body if this is okay, because sometimes, in moments of absolute need, just a glance can mean your end.

So, there's no tease; Sana is well aware of what it feels like when you're throbbing and ready to burst - she's working you up and over and right to that point of no return-

"Can I? Fucking-"

"Fine," she replies, maybe having now considered every other way you might spill a hot load out and make a mess of the sheets. "Have at her," and a flick of tongue catches around the tip of your cock - the final tease, the best punishment.

And the promise of how Tzuyu makes that perfect whimpering cry. Something entirely wounded. Because as soon as it begins - your cock in the shallow depth of her creaming cunt - you're both made aware how she's wetter than she was an hour ago and clenching at nothing, hands balling themselves in frustration, palms bunched white-knuckled up in fists. She needs something, anything. Something for her to squeeze against. For her to bear down on and bounce her cunt off-

The sound all three of you make when you grit your teeth and bury yourself deep into her pussy is a guttural, aching thing, with you biting a lip and gasping. Tzuyu half-growling-half-sobbing into the sheets.

It doesn't matter that she lets Sana cover her open and slack mouth in an attempt to quiet it.

It doesn't matter because in a blink, the exact point in which you sink completely inside - where it's the first, the best, feeling of Tzuyu’s hot pussy taking your cock.

(Mind-numbing, is the word that doesn't come to you.)

Under you, Tzuyu is writhing and hot and tight into the mattress - and so desperate.

"Please," is about all that gets away from her. Which is just too cute to ignore: she's been dying to be fucked, ever since stepped into your foyer and was introduced by the softest, most deliberate of gestures that wound up being all-too intimate. "Please- I need - harder, fucking-"

Sana takes to touching you, her own little form of enjoyment that ends with her fingertips mapping the shape of your jaw. Pupils blown, "Isn't she amazing?" Sana laughs into your neck.

"Fucking," is what your first real stroke back into Tzuyu pulls out, “unreal."

The friction has you both grinding your bodies together at the base, and she arches, this throaty moan, before looking back up at you and letting her mouth fall open - this wordless sentence of plea, over and over again. She's shaking. Body-full. It's almost something painful to see, that she's so undone - and what if you were the only person who'd ever fucked her like this: into ruin.

Tzuyu clenches around the next thrust - begging, so-sore-and-begging to cum.

The demand is practically written in her muscles, and all you want is for her to let go for the second, third, last time - until she loses track of the count. To get there before you have the time to register that she is actually doing it. She's already half-way gone and at your mercy - her only choices now, being: cum, or let you chase the orgasm you're currently rubbing all around the curve of her cunt.

Sana swallows her scream when the first little cry comes, that you've edged out of her. And it gets worse and better the second time her ass meets your thighs, where she's making a real mess on your hips and all but yelling out her orgasm in her state of such incoherent stutter and disarray. The arch to her back is this thing out of your best imagination, which has you - pounding out all her noises - gripping and curving over the plane of her stomach. Until Tzuyu's beginning to make these different cries, somewhere new, somewhere you're finding a whole lot deeper.

"Hold her ass up and fuck her 'til she's full of cum," is the advice you get from Sana in the end, as you fuck her and fuck her through the tumultuous rise and fall of orgasm after orgasm, "oh baby, does it hurt so good? Do you feel that heat spreading down your thighs and getting you all slick? You always knew the best toys are the ones that get bred, sweetheart."

And from her, barely, "fuck, yes."

That's what does it: the desperation just that tangible in all your voices.

Sana manages to get her lips on yours. A kiss that could knock the wind out of your sails under normal circumstances, one that curls a fist and tugs around a familiar part of you. But Tzuyu's eyes roll and drop low, fluttering shut, while your hips crash in quickening succession:

"Fuck-you're so-perfect, cum in me again, daddy - make me," and, "please, so fucking full, just give me more. Want more of you, until it's-"

Tzuyu gets you. Just there. Just the way you needed it. Just like that.

There's something addictive in how her muscles clench and grab around the head of your cock - drawing everything you'd been holding back to a painful front, and - Sana's taste in your mouth still so sweet, mixed with salt and sweat, while you fuck and pound, with absolutely zero respite. Cum buried deeper and deeper until it's spilling and Tzuyu whines for the filthy feeling. Until you're fucked through, emptying every single drop into her open cunt. Until your legs feel sore, a slight shake all through the muscle and the tension in your neck and shoulders, and you're growling this thing that might be her name, and "Tzu, my god, baby, you feel, so amazing," in between thrusts.

It earns you an appreciative whimper.

Something breathy and not-at-all restrained. She doubles down on it when your cock slides out of her swollen, well-fucked cunt.

At first, she only hums a sleepy smile and turns her face in toward the touch, eyes closed and unresponsive. A long exhale. Even like this - especially, perhaps - Tzuyu is lovely.

Either out of exhaustion or overbearing satisfaction, you collapse into her - bodies folding up like that old-cliche about a stack of cards or dominoes - with your cheek to her back and your arms wrapping around her chest, tight, trying to squeeze. Like you're hugging someone from behind. Which isn't too far off. Because for the next five or ten or fifteen minutes or a half-hour, you lie there, pressing your face in against the side of her neck, smelling her hair - how sweet the strands are - then down along her shoulders, and under, listening to the soft way Tzuyu falls into her breaths.

In, out. In, out.

Sana follows all the while with, "should we not have let her ride, first?"

To which, Tzuyu says, "fuck off."

Sana brushes it off, crawls around your shoulders and slips two, three, five kisses into your forehead. That's when you know to shuffle over, dragging and tugging limbs and muscles and bone in the same direction - careful not to let the sticky sensation linger anywhere it shouldn't. Not even for an instant.

The three of you are laying in a total fucking mess. But it's your mess, and that's beautiful in a sort of thought-provoking poetic way.

You turn your head. Tzuyu's there, still, blinking slowly.

"Hello again, hi," you say and the smile comes up all sorts of natural. "Okay?"

Her gaze shifts into something vague, so much quieter, but she nods. So it must be. Okay.

“Is it too early?” Tzuyu asks two weeks later, and nothing has ever, ever started like that.

She’s at your doorstep, a little too dressed up for the middle of the afternoon, hair pulled away from her face in two loose braids, bright eyes, lip-gloss that shimmers just enough. Something innocent in the whole way she looks and stands and smiles. Nothing, on the surface, that gives the truth away.

You lift an eyebrow, skeptical. Always. "I wasn't expecting company."

"Yes you were," and she dangles a set of keys.

"I'm sorry, did you steal those?"

The laughter from her chest is as surprising as it is gorgeous, rich and thick like molasses, rolling over the shape of her tongue. It hits you hard that two weeks - really, any amount of time - it’s not nearly long enough.

And before Tzuyu can admit as much out loud, Sana chirps from her spot aside the door, knee bent and grinning, "maybe I did."

"Well," you say, hands on your hips, "this is all a little..."

"Irregular, I know." Sana's giving her best impression of you: so exasperated.

"Which is, honestly," she continues to explain, pushing away from her perch and approaching in these small, gentle steps. "We need, that thing you promised you'd do," she trails a finger up the buttons of your shirt, under your jaw. You're already drowning. "Whenever" - is her very worst torture - "we called."

(Might just be a little bit of trouble, is the one honest answer, to whatever you were trying to start when you saw their faces and recognized their bodies and said: yes, come inside and meet me and fuck my brains out, all that.

What a way to begin. What a story it'll be.)

a/n: these two are fucking adorable.

#twice smut #sana smut #tzuyu smut #kpop smut #male reader smut #twice sana smut #twice tzuyu smut

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harrowharkwife · 5 months

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i'm so used to there just being random unidentified bones laying around everywhere in these damn books that it finally occurred to me, just now, to wonder where the bones on new rho came from. y'know, the bones palamedes always tried to teach nona necromancy on.

they're his.

palamedes, who always loved teaching, living on borrowed time in a body that's not his own. palamedes, mentoring, teaching- parenting, by sixth standards, mind you. and that boy is sixth, through and through.

and the entire point of teaching nona necromancy in the first place was to try and determine if nona is, well, nonagesimus, right? so it has to be bones, it can't not be bones. bones are, like, her whole thing.

but they're not in the nine houses, anymore. things are different, on new rho.

they burn bones here. dig up the cemeteries. a society terrified of zombies will evolve to dispose of its dead differently.

the only bones he has access to now are his own. (camilla wouldn't let anyone take them- skull or hand, doesn't matter. they're still him, and she doesn't let go, remember? it's her one thing.)

palamedes woke up every morning wearing someone else's body to then gently place the shrapnel of his own in the cupped palms of a girl who's the closest thing he'll ever have to a daughter and try to teach her- how did the angel put it, again? normal school, as much as possible, for as long as possible.

(but hey, in a roundabout way, at least it's a chance for him to touch camilla again, right? nevermind that she's not there to feel any of it because he's in the driver's seat, that he can only stay for fifteen minutes at a time. it's atoms that belong to camilla touching atoms that used to belong to him, and that's close enough. he'll take what he can get, these days- if she can be their flesh, he can be the end. so what if holding his own bones is a mindfuck? so what if looking at them makes him nauseous? surely he can suck it up and deal with it for fifteen minutes. it's the least he can do— his poor camilla was the one who had to scrape the bloody pulp of them off the floors of canaan house.)

(speaking of, here's a fun fact: we actually only see nona practicing with the bones one time, on-page. camilla's final line in that scene, before palamedes takes over, is none other than: 'keep going. there are some bones left.' ow!)

remember, too, that the only part of dulcinea, the real dulcinea, that palamedes ever physically touched, was her tooth- the one that ianthe gave him, pulled from the ashes cytherea burnt her down to. he only ever touched dulcie once, and it wasn't until after she was already gone, but that doesn't matter- it still happened, and you can't take loved away.

in this same roundabout, bittersweet, by-proxy sort of way, palamedes has been physically touched by nona, too: the atoms she currently occupies, touching atoms that he used to occupy, and never will again.

the main interaction we've seen between palamedes and his mother took place back on the sixth, with her acting as mentor and him as pupil: the two of them studying a set of hand bones, juno encouraging him every step of the way.

we know that harrowhark's "most vivid memory of her mother was of her hands guiding harrow's over an inexpertly rendered portion of skull, her fingers encircling the fat baby bracelets of harrow's wrists, tightening this cuff to indicate correct technique."

they're still small for a nineteen year old, but the wrists are bigger, in this new set of memories nona's making. and it's not an inexpertly rendered portion of skull anymore- it's a hand, now, albeit one crafted from [a piece of skull reassembled (painstakingly—passionately—laboriously reassembled) from fragments, manually, and not by a bone magician, from the skull of someone who, soon after death or symptomatically during, had exploded.] and the identity and origin of these bones is no mystery at all. they belong to palamedes, and he's consented to their use for this purpose, and that matters.

but the details are just set dressing, really. the foundation of the memory is the same.

palamedes and his mother, juno and her son.

harrow and her mother; pelleamena and her daughter.

nona and her father-mother-teacher; palamedes and his daughter.

#these fucking books. every 2-3 business days i'll find some new detail to be insane about #this post took me like three hours to write. what the fuck #palamedes sextus #nona the ninth #the locked tomb #nona #palamedes the sixth #tlt #ntn #camilla hect #tlt spoilers #pal honey. im :( :( :(#spiritually that man is a MOM okay! there's a reason tamsyn specifically assigned him the same imagery in this scene #that she's been using to represent crucial bonding moments between mother/mother figure and child/child figure #that and the 'sextus you'll make a very irritating wife someday' joke and cam's 'i'll talk to your mother later' face #ie: talk to palamedes about nona #that boy is momcoded i don't make the rules!

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destourtereaux · 10 months

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just a little bit of hope - peeta mellark x fem!reader

⤷ summary: with katniss and gale both gone, peeta steps in as an unlikely hunting partner for y/n. ⤷ wc: 2.6k ⤷ requested? yes. see request here. ⤷ follow @lovebirdupdates and turn on notifs to be on my 'taglist'!

⤷ a/n: two things - one, peeta has dimples here, it's just how i imagine him, so please bear with me; two, pretend gale's father is alive please, i didn't think our girl would be able to support two families, no matter how strong she is.

___

The day is horridly warm, exacerbated by a heavy humidity. As you wake, hot air suffocates your surroundings, and the sun glares through the window, hung on a span of blue sky. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, your bare feet find the ground, then immediately retract. The floor is burning hot, baked by the sun. You grit your teeth and force your feet back onto the wood, ignoring the searing heat. You have things to do.

You make a bowl of porridge, watery, but edible. You drink half, and leave the rest for your mother. Your father is off to the mines already, his boots absent. You get dressed, pulling on the prettiest dress you own. You're ready. Or, as ready as one can be.

Today, there will be no hunting with Katniss and Gale, no trading at the Hob. Today, there is only the reaping.

___

You spot Katniss at the edge of the square, gripping her sister's hand. Your friend looks nothing like she normally does. Gone are the boots and hunting jacket, replaced by a simple blouse tucked into a modest skirt. You nod grimly at her; neither of you feels like smiling.

Gale is over on the other side of the square, across from the stage they've set up. Your eyes meet, and he mouths "good luck".

After a few minutes of the routine announcements, Haymitch is introduced, then Effie. By now, the crowd has settled into an air of grimness, despite the clear blue sky overhead.

You don't hear Effie's jokes, and nobody laughs. She finally stops smiling, looking extremely awkward – you almost feel bad for her. Almost.

Then, she sticks her hand in the ball of names, each carrying a life, and pulls one out. Her smile is back on her face when she announces, "Without further ado, our female tribute is: Katniss Everdeen!"

You freeze, repeating her words in your head as if hoping they'd sound different. Your oldest friend – determined, brave Katniss, given a death sentence.

But Effie doesn't wait. Her next words are just as devastating. "And for our male tribute: Gale Hawthorne! Come on up now, dear, don't be shy."

Peacekeepers erupt through the crowd, grabbing your two best friends in the entire world by the shoulders, and forcing them up to the stage. Katniss whips her head around, looking at you with pleading eyes. You know what she's asking for.

"I'll take care of her, Katniss. I won't let her die. And you can't let yourself die, okay? Promise me. Katniss! Promise me!"

Your last words are hysterical, but ironically, Katniss is not. Having heard your commitment to Prim, she is satisfied. She yanks her arms free of the Peacekeepers and walks by herself, her head held high and her face serene.

You grab Prim's hand. Her whole body is shaking, wracked with sobs. You don't hear Effie's last words, but you know what they are.

"May the odds be ever in your favor."

___

It's been two weeks since the reaping which stole your best friends. It's shocking how quickly you fell back into routine, as if nothing has even changed. The only indicator of their absence is an added part of your day: splitting your earnings between your family and Prim's.

There are now double the mouths to feed, so you spend double the hours in the forest hunting. Villagers are sympathetic – that may be the only reason you're all still alive. They love Prim, and they trust you. Everything you hunt manages to be traded.

But still, you're cracking. It's just too much, and you don't know if it'll ever get better. You have no idea what Katniss and Gale are going through right now, and you don't let yourself think of them. It would break your heart.

___

Peeta Mellark has always been observant. His teachers told his parents this, back when he was a child. It's this trait that makes him notice you. The girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders, killing herself day after day to provide for not one, but two whole families.

He doesn't understand how no one else sees it. But maybe they do – it's just that no one in District 12 is really in a position to do anything about it. Still, the fact remains that you're close to breaking. You can't keep doing this alone.

Peeta Mellark has never been brave. His mother yells at him, beats him, and he takes it. He has never talked back to teachers, or dared disobey the Peacekeepers. So when he offers to hunt with you, he surprises even himself.

"What?"

"I'm Peeta Mellark. We were in the same class, and my parents run the bakery. I was wondering if I'd be able to hunt with you?"

So you weren't hallucinating. The baker's son – a boy you didn't think could kill a fly – had just asked to hunt with you. Your shock translates into a small laugh, not that anything about the situation is funny, really. Hurt flashes in Peeta's eyes, and you quickly backtrack.

"I'm sorry, that was rude. I'm Y/N L/N, I know who you are. I just didn't think you'd be the hunting type," you explain. Because you're gentle, and kind, and I've never seen you hurt anyone, with your words or physically. But you don't add that last part.

"I've only ever hunted with Katniss and Gale, you must know them, they were reaped this year." Your voice cracks a bit with those last words, and Peeta acknowledges the fact with a nod. His hand twitches; he wants to pat you on the back, or grip your shoulder, anything to stop the melancholy leaking into your eyes, but he doesn't.

"But you're welcome to join me," you end with a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

___

The new partnership starts early the following day. You meet a groggy Peeta near his home, and the two of you begin the walk to the Meadow.

You hear no electrical hum from the fencing, which means it's safe to touch, and you guide Peeta across the boundary which separates the Seam from the forest. This is all illegal, you know, but you're too used to it to even notice. Peeta, on the other hand, feels an exhilarating sense of rebellion as he crosses the barbed wire, following your figure into the woods.

"You've never hunted before, have you?" you probe, although it's more of a confirmation than an actual question.

Peeta nods. "But I'm a quick learner. And I won't get in your way, I promise."

You smile, a genuine one this time. "We'll see about that, Mellark."

Over the next hour, you go over all the traps you had set from the day before, collecting from Katniss and Gale's traps as well. True to his word, Peeta picks it up quickly, and even has a great eye for camouflaging the traps. This becomes his task, using grass and twigs and flowers as his medium, painting a deceptive scene which looks safe and welcoming to the many squirrels and rabbits in these parts.

You also start him on foraging. Only one type of berry is poisonous in the Meadow, and it's easy to identify. You make sure he's clear on which to avoid, and leave him to it, while you head to the hollowed out tree where you've hidden your knives. The familiar sight of Katniss' bow and arrows within the trunk brings a pang in your heart. You leave them nestled within and retrieve only your daggers. You were never a good archer.

Another hour passes, and you return to Peeta with a deer. You're happier than you have been in weeks – this will be enough for almost a week's worth of food. Peeta is not empty-handed either, he has two buckets of progress, one filled with strawberries, the other with raspberries. He gives you a soft smile – he has dimples, you think. He then immediately turns a faint shade of green, having noticed the dead deer.

You're seized with the desire to laugh, "Why'd you offer to hunt with me if you get queasy from the sight of game?"

He looks at you with an indignant pout, and you can't stop the giggle that tumbles out, then the full on laughter.

"I'm not like this with all game, just, you know, the larger animals. I can look at dead squirrels just fine – stop laughing!"

Making your way back, within the District, you stop just outside of the fence to split your gatherings.

"Take the squirrels and rabbits, and the bucket of raspberries. I'll keep the deer and trade the strawberries with the mayor," you offer.

"No, you take it all," he crosses the barrier carrying the buckets, and you follow after him, shaking your head.

"I can't, Peeta. That wouldn't be right. This is a fair split."

"I never said I wanted to keep what we hunt. Only that I wanted to hunt with you, Y/N. Take it. I know you need it more than I do. I'll see you next weekend?"

And with that, he pops a strawberry in his mouth, smiling at the sweetness, and walks away.

You're left with your mouth open, unable to process what had just happened.

___

The next morning, you show up at the bakery. His bakery. You earned a few dollars from selling your strawberries to the mayor, and you figure that if Peeta won't take anything, you should buy from him instead.

A few dollars is enough for two loaves of good bread, and so you head to the bread aisle. But your gaze catches on the beautiful cakes on display, decorated with multi-colored icing and swirling script written in melted chocolate.

"I did those," comes a voice from behind you.

Whipping your head around, you see Peeta himself, looking at the cakes with fondness and a bit of pride.

"You did what?"

"The cakes. I decorated them. My mom bakes, but I decorate. I like doing it – it's like painting, just on a different canvas."

"They're really lovely. You have a talent for it," you confirm, "I bet that's why you were so good at hiding traps yesterday. You can see nature's patterns."

He gives you a soft smile in return, and you can see the dimples again. They're adorable, you think. I want to see them every day.

He gives a small cough, looking at you questioningly.

You startle, and blush a deep crimson. "Sorry, I lost my train of thought. I'm here to buy bread. Two loaves," you say as you lower your head to stare down at the ground, refusing to meet his eyes.

It's only when you hear a chuckle that you lift your head back up. Peeta's eyes are sparkling, and his dimples are clear as ever.

"I'll give you three."

___

Two months after the reaping, your partnership with Peeta is still going strong. Every Saturday, the two of you head to the woods, and spend half the day fishing, gathering, and hunting. Originally silent company has evolved into true friendship, with witty banter, fleeting touches, and shared smiles.

You have come to know Peeta Mellark. He isn't just the baker's son, the one who decorates cakes and hates seeing dead animals. He's the boy who saved you, when no one even knew that you needed saving.

Day after day, he has shown up, offering kindness, companionship, and warmth, without expecting anything in return. You care about him more than you thought you could ever care about someone who wasn't family. You care about his messy blond hair, and you care about his broad shoulders. You care about his blue eyes which sparkle when he tells a joke, and his beautiful heart which leads him to give the occasional customer an extra free loaf. Most of all, you care about his dimples, which come out when he smiles at you. You care so much about him, that it scares you.

And Peeta cares about you. He cares about your hands, calloused but nimble, lethal when holding onto your twin daggers. He cares about your face, how it glows when you laugh at his jokes in the woods, but dims a bit when you're back in the district. He cares about your hair, always tied in a ponytail when in the Meadow, but left to flow freely down your shoulders when hunting's over. Most of all, he cares about your smile, which comes out when Prim thanks you week after week for your help, and forces you to take bottles of goat milk and pet Buttercup. He cares so much about you, that it scares him.

___

This hunting day, Peeta comes with news from the Capitol. A few weeks back, he started giving you updates on the Games, after you told him that you couldn't stomach the thought of watching your friends fight to the death.

"Y/N! Good news!" he greets, exiting the bakery. As the two of you begin your walk, he adds, "I'll tell you when we get to the Meadow."

"You're insufferable, Mellark. You can't just hook me like that, and not tell me what it is."

Peeta doesn't answer, so you start walking twice as fast, ushering him toward the edge of the Seam so you could figure out what exactly he wanted to tell you.

Once in the grassy plains of the Meadow, between the forest and the fence, you turn back to the boy, the impatience evident in your face.

"Tell me, Peeta, or I swear I'll –"

"Alright, alright," he laughs, "but it's not really good news, per se. It's just a little bit of hope."

You nod, urging him to continue.

"It's about the Games. About Katniss and Gale."

The last traces of your smile fade. Concern is etched onto your face, and your eyebrows scrunch up, your jaw tightens.

Noticing this, Peeta pulls you in by the waist, so that your head lands on his shoulder. "It's good news, Y/N. Don't look so defeated. They're both still alive, and they're fighting."

"But at least one of them won't be coming back," you whisper into his neck, so quietly you wonder if he even heard. But Peeta always hears you.

"Y/N. That's the news. They could both come back. Caesar Flickerman has just announced that they will be changing the rules this year – allowing two victors of the Games, provided they're tributes from the same district!"

You look up at him in awe. A change to the Games. Katniss and Gale, not one or the other. Both could win. Both could come back.

You choke down a sob, staring at Peeta's brilliant smile and those mesmerizing dimples. And before you can process what you're doing, you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his in a bout of bravery.

Peeta's frozen for a second, before he begins to reciprocate the kiss in earnest. He pulls you in, one hand holding your neck and the other wrapped around your torso, pressing himself impossibly closer. He tastes like icing and strawberries, and you can smell the comforting scent of warm bread.

The kiss ends far too quickly for your liking, and you're suddenly impossibly shy, all bravado gone. You lower your eyes so you won't have to meet his eyes, but realize that you're practically sitting on his lap, having moved there at some point during the kiss. This observation brings a flaming blush onto your cheeks, and you scramble to move away, but you're held in place by Peeta's arms, forming an iron-tight cage around your figure.

He brings a hand to your chin, lifting it up, and kisses you again, more gently this time.

"Don't go all shy on me now, Y/L/N," he teases, and holds the back of his hand against your forehead, as if feeling for a fever. "You're burning up, darling."

"You know damn well that's not a fever–", you start, but you're cut off by his laughter, and once again distracted by those dimples of his.

Maybe Peeta was right. Maybe there is just a little bit of hope left for you.

___

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 5 months

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Reacting and taking care of their S/O who, due to some accident, ended up shrinking in size, to the point where they can carry them with the palm of their hands.

Genshin Girls: Beidou, Noelle, Eula, Shenhe, Ganyu, Shogun Ei and Yae Miko.

(Genshin Impact) Beidou, Noelle, Eula, Shenhe, Ganyu, Ei, and Yae's S/O getting shrunk down

(Beidou) "How did you...? Bah, it doesn't matter. I'll get ya fixed up in no time, S/O!"

Beidou has no idea what caused S/O to become so tiny, but she won't rest until they're back to normal!

Though truth be told, Beidou just thought that S/O being tiny was a result of her being drunk off her ass.

While she does find it cute that she can carry them in her palm, she doesn't actually do so due to how much she talks with her hands, or in general just moves them.

She's afraid she's going to crush them based on pure muscle movement.

Instead, S/O rests comfortably on the back of her coat, near her neck, at least when they're moving.

Beidou has a bird cage in her room that she bought and adorned it with soft feathers.

(S/O) "...This makes me feel like a pet."

(Beidou) "Do you wanna be on the wooden floors of the Crux instead?"

At least this was temporary. Her first order of business is to get Ningguang to help out with this problem.

(Noelle) "My goodness, what happened to you?!"

Noelle is terribly confused, but she immediately sets off to find help, S/O safely in her palms all the while.

She becomes hyper aware of her grip strength and where S/O is, afraid that they would get hurt, crushed, stepped on, or all sorts of dangerous things!

Noelle goes to find Sucrose, Albedo, or Lisa, preferably all three so they could explain what happened!

She also becomes hyper defensive of anyone holding S/O, her palms shielding them as she turns her entire body away from said person.

(Noelle) "Ah, please do not touch S/O! They are in a very precarious state!"

(S/O) "Uh, Noelle? I still need to be able to see-"

(Noelle) "Please bear with me, it would give me peace of mind if you are wholly incapable of being harmed!"

(S/O) "If I were in anyone else's hands, I would've doubted that."

That comment makes Noelle beam with pride.

(Eula) "When I said that my vengeance would dwarf your entire being...I did not mean it literally."

(S/O) "Yes yes, very funny Eula. Now can you put me down? You holding me with two fingers just feels like I'm a grape or something."

Honestly? Eula finds the situation hilarious. Her teasing goes up tenfold when S/O is extremely tiny like this.

If they try to give her any lip, she'll just pull the-

(Eula) "How can you make such threats when you are the size of my thumb, S/O?"

-card.

Eula will ask Amber or the Traveler for help, and while she is concerned for S/O, there is a smile on her face whenever she looked at them.

A pocket S/O was very cute to her.

(Eula) "Would you like to go to Dragonspine with me in this state, S/O?"

(S/O) "What, you planning on turning me into a popsicle?"

(Eula) "That is an excellent idea!"

(Shenhe) "...You are tiny."

(S/O) "Really? I haven't noticed, Shenhe..."

Shenhe figured this is something that the Adepti can help her with.

In all her life, she had never encountered a situation as bizarre as her current predicament.

If Noelle was possessive of tiny S/O, then Shenhe is borderline yandere.

Those who seem to mean harm to her tiny significant other will be met with a violent and bloody end.

One which S/O's voice can be frantically heard coming out of her palms, begging her to stand down.

Hopefully her master, Cloud Retainer, can bring S/O back to normal.

(Shenhe) "Are you resting comfortably?"

(S/O) "I am but...resting on your chest is kind of...strange."

(Shenhe) "But you do so all the time."

(S/O) "It's one thing for me to rest my head on it, Shenhe, and an entirely different situation for me to literally sit on it!"

(Ganyu) "S-S/O! Are you okay, how did this happen? Don't worry, we'll get some help right away!"

Ganyu immediately defers to Cloud Retainer for bringing S/O back to normal.

But when she's told it'd take a few days before the rite would happen, Ganyu takes S/O with her at all times.

At work, S/O is sitting at her desk while she catches up on her neverending paperwork.

S/O has a plate with flowers to sit on as they watch her work.

In some strange fashion...Ganyu quite liked this.

It allowed S/O to be with her during work so she didn't feel entirely stressed.

Though the threat of S/O being blown away or crushed gave her a whole new level of stress.

(S/O) "Careful, Ganyu. You're sweating enough that it's threatening to splash on me."

(Ganyu) "R-REALLY?!"

(S/O) "A-ah, it was just a joke! Though, I guess not anymore with how you shot straight up like that...!"

(Ei) "...You did not tell me you were capable of this, S/O."

(S/O) "It's because I'm not!"

Ei decides to find out what happened to S/O herself, and leaves them in the most capable hands.

Also herself.

The Raiden Shogun stands unflinchingly on guard, meditating until Ei's return as S/O is sitting in her palm.

(S/O) "...Can I get something to eat?"

(Raiden) "Sara. Retrieve a bowl of rice at once."

(Sara) "Yes, Almighty Shogun!"

S/O awkwardly fidgets with their hands.

(S/O) "Can I move?-"

(Raiden) "No."

Meanwhile, Ei lets S/O sit on her finger like a bird, though they have a much harder time balancing themselves.

(Ei) "What a curious situation you have found yourself in."

(S/O) "Y-You don't have to stare at me that intensely, you know!"

(Yae) "Oh, how adorable you have become, S/O! I could just eat you up-"

(S/O) "Try it and I'm pulling out the fur on your ears!"

Yae has to try her best not to hurt herself laughing at S/O's situation.

Now this was worth writing down!

Though, S/O clearly disagreed.

(Yae) "Come now, S/O. I wouldn't be distressed, think of all the interesting new friends you can make!"

(S/O) "Yeah, plenty of bugs and birds would like to meet and eat me, Yae."

(Yae) "Do you want to test that out?"

(S/O) "Absolutely not!"

Surprisingly, she's seen this kind of situation happen throughout her long life.

And she knows that S/O will go back to normal in a few days.

But that's all the more reason for her to enjoy the time she has!

Who knows when the next time she'll be able to laugh this hard?

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #beidou x reader #noelle genshin impact x reader #eula x reader #shenhe x reader #ganyu x reader #ei x reader #yae miko x reader #beidou genshin impact #noelle genshin impact #eula lawrence #shenhe genshin impact #ganyu #ei raiden #yae miko

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lovelykhaleesiii · 1 year

Note

Can I request some sort of smut with Prince Regent!Aemond? I can't get him out of my head!!!! I see him being so mean and intimidating on the Iron Throne, like he wouldn't wear the eye patch bc he knows he looks "scary" to everyone in the court without it...except his little wife doesn't find him scary. His sweet wife is willing to fulfill his every need, no matter what that is, and is a good girl for him when he fucks her roughly, and it ends up melting his cold heart. Just a thought 😮‍💨

please the heinous bitch I'll become when Aemond takes this role on, lord forgive me. this is brilliant, thanks for sending in the ask boo xx

hope you love it!

Dearest, Ruthless Husband

PAIRING: Prince Regent!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Wife!Reader

WORDS: 2,432.

WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of cruel!Aemond, degradation kink, p in v sexual intercourse (consensual), oral male receiving, mentions of breeding kink.

A/N - writing this got me so hyped for Prince Regent Aemond!!! I hope you all enjoy, the smut is a little different to what I normally write or go about it, but sue me. Intrusive thoughts won!!!!

The Dance of the Dragons as most maesters and commoners of King's Landing had dubbed the unfolding family feud within House Targaryen, was beginning to simmer and churn. Brutal words exchanged, promises unkept and broken, and battles ruthlessly fought, both sides began to earn their gains, and yet also face immense losses. The most recent, left the Usurper King Aegon, burnt and beyond repair. The King had succumbed to his bed chambers, in the endless care of maesters, tending to his wounds as he remained unconscious from milk of the poppy. Although the realm staggered on, it needed to be assigned someone to represent the sovereign himself, and no other candidate stood out, other than your royal husband, Prince Regent, Aemond Targaryen.

Before the war had torn through the Seven Kingdoms, you had been betrothed to the young Prince. Paramount in securing an alliance on behalf of the Crown, you had grown doubtful that the marriage would remain fruitful, weary that Aemond merely saw you more as an obligation than an actual human being. Much to your surprise and in favour of the Gods, the Targaryen prince, took a key interest in you, as you gradually began to spend more and more time immersed in each other's sole company. Till proof had been cemented when he meekly admitted his love for you.

"It will be undying, this union, bound to me forever, my love. You will never no of hate nor harm, that I can promise you, my wife to be."

And although, Aemond had always been more of a withdrawn, private man since your first acquaintance, the longer this war prolonged, the more it seemed to have hardened his exterior. The man you'd once soulfully cherished and dreamt of now absent, replaced by a strange clone, the warmth buried inside seemed to have gone out like a candle in the wind.

He did no harm towards you, although, you scarcely saw him. Occasionally, he'd accompany you to dinner, only to be torn away from you, more prominent, urgent matters to attend that broke in the dead hour of the night. The bed had grown lonesome, and you struggled to sleep without his comforting presence and familiar body warmth. Regardless, your safety was still a priority, he made certain that you were around, in his vicinity.

****

Nowadays, you often found your husband seated firmly atop the Iron Throne, speaking and acting on behalf of his elder brother, the King. Many a times, he'd often privately disclosed of how he'd envisioned himself instead, given the miraculous chance, he sternly believed he'd be the better choice, "I'm far more suited than the likes of him." And yet, now that his treasonous wish had been granted, the circumstances unfortunate, he did not feel as willing for it. Eager to uphold duty nonetheless, you knew, however, that Aemond loved his family immensely, this including Aegon. They grew together, trained together and fought together. Yet he only now, fully understood the burden in which the crown wielded.

Today was no less different.

Entering the throne room, crowded by those who'd sworn allegiance unto King Aegon the Second, and those in chains, forced upon their knees, for those who had instead sworn fealty to Rhaenyra only to be captured. Aemond coldly observed them from above, the ferocity of the throne, its sharp, steel blades exemplified by his exposed sapphire eye. Since your beloved husband was publicly anointed as Prince Regent, he had taken to the habit of unveiling his lost eye, no longer bearing the notorious eye patch that modestly covered his ailment. He never hid it out of shame, though rather sympathetically as means to not frighten the maidens of the court. Yet the spoils of war had unleashed a crueler side to Aemond, one that you did not sense of its existence, though neither grew fearful of.

"Sided with the false Queen, my elder sister, Rhaenyra Targaryen, you have committed the highest form of treason against the Crown... Cowards and traitors, you shall all face the wroth of the Dragons through me... I do not see it fit to send you all to the Wall, no that would be mercy...Death to the whole lot of you."

His words sent a cold chill through your body, shuddering against his low, unwavering tone. Aemond had always spoken with a steadiness, and that remained unchanged. You could not deny that seeing such a formidable side of Aemond, unlike before, was invigorating. In the haste moments that you were caught in your own bewildered thoughts, with a sway of his hand swatting for the guards to remove said traitors, the out-roar of prisoners begging and pleading before their Prince Regent and the rattling of their heavy chains as they'd been forcefully led away was a chilling memory. After the final few had left to the dungeons below, you'd caught sight of Aemond staring right at you. Mindlessly, a faint smile fell upon your gentle face, and in a few seconds to come, Aemond demanded that all vacate the room, except for you. As the others departed, you walked in the opposing way, strolling closer and closer to where your husband remained comfortably seated, coming to a halt before the stony steps.

Upon hearing the final closing of the main, oak doors, an eerie silence fell upon the void of the room. Aemond's eye turned from the shut doors back down unto your feeble state below, the height and distance made you look smaller, more miniscule.

"You dare to taunt me with that smile, woman? Your presence during court already weakens me so."

"I merely wish to see my husband in all his glory, for it feels like a lifetime that I have not been blessed in his company. If needs be that I must seek you out myself, then so be it."

"Hmm."

Just as you'd taken the first step up, Aemond commanded for you to stop. Caught mid-way, you were startled by his objection as he often never resisted you.

"You think you can go unpunished just like that, do as you please and walk yourself right up here. Simply because you're my little whore?"

You were mildly perplexed by his minor outburst, although with the sly grin strewed across his face and the low deep chuckle he provoked from his own amusement, you knew he was simply taunting you. And yet, being Prince Regent, you had no choice but to obey.

"On all fours woman, I want to see you crawl to me, like the bitch that you are."

Hesitant at first, the burning glare from your husband's end though convinced you otherwise. Now on all fours, you slowly began to mechanic your way up to him, feeling Aemond's grin seething into the tender skin of your back, straight through your gown. Did this amuse him, seeing you grabble for him on the grimy, ancient floor, practically yielding to his every word.

Now at his feet, you remained on your knees, sore palms resting on your thighs, you looked up at him eagerly, a soft smile upon your face. If he thought he could taunt or debase you, he should reconsider.

"Satisfied yet, my dearest?" You meekly interject, your smile growing brighter.

"Not yet. Have you any bright ideas, wife, or must I command you like a hound?"

Although his voice stern, the sly grin remained faintly embedded across his face, and eyebrow perked, eager for your response. Yet your remained endearing, a lustful look across your face, as your hands began to gently make there way up his lean thighs.

"You have worked so tirelessly for the realm, and yet your wife remains lonesome, in her own company. From time to time, my husband is too busy fulfilling the duties of the realm, he seems to have forgotten his duty to his wife. Leaving me to touch myself so desperately... I suppose, I must remind him."

Now your hands reached the buttons of his trousers, Aemond bucks his hips forward, as you undo them, pulling them and his under garments just low enough, that his bare cock strings out. Already glistening at its tip, the sight always left you dumbfounded. His length was greater than average, and veiny, you could sense its palpating throbs against the soft palms of your hands, as you began to stroke its firm state.

"Already hard for me, my Prince. Have you missed me so?"

His pre-cum already spilling from the pinkish tip, you'd noticed the more fasten your pace grew, the firmer his grip tightened on the metal arm rests of the throne. His once-steady breathing now heavier.

"Fuck Y/N. Don't keep me waiting."

A sweet giggle escaped your lips, as his eye and the sapphire gem remained fixated on your kneeling frame below his knees. Soon enough, still massaging his hardening cock, you ease yourself between his thighs, spreading his legs out wider for you to adjust yourself. His wish, his command, you brought your mouth to his cock, in the same, sensual pace, sucking at his cock, feeling the throbs and familiar taste in your mouth.

"Seven fucking Hells," He breathlessly huffed, his chest now heaving against your slow, engulfing motions.

It was undeniable that the tip of his cock was stiffly hitting the back of your throat, regardless of how often this act was done in the privacy of your shared chambers, his length was one you could never quite adjust to, often gagging at it, although now you'd grown familiar to manoeuvre and angle it accordingly.

"That tight, pretty mouth of yours, oh, how I've missed it."

It had been a while since Aemond and yourself had shared these intimate moments only lawful between a man and his woman, since the uprising of the war. The Gods were now charitable, for both your favours were being met.

"Mmm. F-Fuck I'm close, Princess. Straightened up."

The thudding of his hard, long cock you could feel had grown tenser. Pulling out, caused a visceral reaction from him, as you once more, obeyed his command, straightening your posture enough, that the cleavage of your breasts was the main attraction between his thighs. Immediately, he hastily spilled his warm seed over your breasts, causing a mess all over you, some of his wetness had seeped in between the cleavage, whilst the rest glistened against your soft skin, before pooling down, drenching your garments.

"A masterpiece if I ever saw one," He chuckled, as his thumb tenderly wiped away at the remnants lingering over the corner of your moist lips.

"Aemond, I need you dearest," You sulkily yearned, a hand clutching to your clothed cunt, feeling yourself beginning to grow avid, as a long, familiar feeling brew between your thighs.

"Up- Come, my dearest-" His hand smacked against his thigh, as the other held your hand in is lifting you up, guiding you to ease yourself down over him: hastily pulling your layered gown up and tearing your undergarments into two, his firm cock easily finding its way inside of you.

Muffled moans helplessly tore through you, once again, the neediness for your husband's cock, and the long-awaited wait, stimulating you enough. His wetness that coated him, helped to ease himself plunging in, now adjusted, your hips beginning to sway forwards and back over his strong lap, his rough hands held you firmly by the waist, steadying you over him.

"I ought to fuck you senseless, leave you satisfied enough for until the next time I return from battle. Perhaps I ought to fuck a babe into you, my dearest."

Still childless, it was all bad-timing for only a few months after your wedding, the war broke out and Aemond was caught in the haste of it all. He scarcely had time to bed you, although now that his family numbers were dwindling, it seemed a babe was of great importance, an heir for the Prince Regent.

"Y-Yes, Aem- I want your child."

"Your wish is my command, wife. I shall see you swell greatly with child, as many sons and daughters as I see fit."

Earning more helpless cries and screams for your husband, the room echoed with your pleas and Aemond's heavy breathing. You were certain the guards posted outside, would know of the events unfolding from within, and yet no shame. For they'd have to answer to Aemond, and that itself, was a threat.

"Fill this pretty cunt of yours, this cunt that belongs to me. I shall keep you full, as need be."

"A-As you desire, m-my Prince-"

One of Aemond's hands remained supporting your lumbar, snaking its way behind, and the other found its way to your scalp, tugging and pulling at your hair, as your head rocked back in tune to his aggressive motions. Words no longer comprehensible to exchange, Aemond's lips found themselves occupied, lapping and suckling at the sensitive crook of your neck, leaving harsh, red marks across your skin.

"Finish me, Aem. I-I need you to fill me-"

The excitement that had brewed in anticipation for this monumental moment, had finally met its need. Your sweet, hot cum pooled over his sturdy, long cock inside, pooling beneath your gown, and in response, evoked the same pleasurable reaction from your husband. Feeling his hot seed once more, shooting itself inside, coating your walls. You felt certain a child was procreated in that precise moments, though regardless, would pray to the Gods to grant you the chance to bear a healthy babe.

Huffing and puffing, hot, perspiring skin against each other, resting your foreheads against one another, almost in sync, you both exchanged faint, genuine laughter.

"I-I have missed you my dearest. It pains me so, to be away from you so often and for so long. I cherish these moments with you, even catching you lingering in the shadows, watching me."

His sweet words warmed your meek heart, and you knew that your husband was apologetic in some sense, even if he struggled to admit it.

"I know my love, but soon enough, a war always comes to an end. Just be sure, I have you returned to me in one piece, and at my beckon call."

A deep, low chucked echoed from deep inside him, as he bashfully looked down, before returning his sole gaze unto you, your fingers toying with long strands of his platinum hair.

"Even if the Gods have other plans, I will defy them for you, always. I promise to return to you, and if the Mother is willing, a babe in your arms. I love you."

general taglist - @evenstaris @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @ilikeitbetterangsty @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @randomdragonfires

Aemond taglist - @godrakin @megatardisbaby @harrypotteranna23-blog

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen fluff #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd imagines

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qtboni · 11 months

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helloo boniiii (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) i hope ur doing okay todayyyy i saw that you hve ur reqs open and i have an idea!

the way chubby!reader is insecure of how she looks and Simon notices it and comforts her? bye sorry im like so bad at explaining but what would Simon do?

HELLO, BABI ! omg u got me there. im one of those peeps who gets so insecure easily 😔 and really, i want a husband like simon who can comfort me in bad times 😭 thank you for requesting this !!

╰﹒ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 !

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Chubby!Reader

OVERVIEW: Simon reassures your insecurities with loving words, and you are overwhelmed with emotions, as he makes you realize the beauty in yourself that you can't see.

C/W: Hurt/comfort! body image issues, insecurities, mentions of body dysmorphia, intimate partner relationship (emotional support), reader expressing emotions and processing trauma, reader struggles with feelings of self-worth.

Simon's car doors shut with a loud thud, echoing through the garage and signaling his departure. A small sense of relief washed over you, knowing that you would have the whole day to yourself.

No more needing to pretend to be okay when you weren't. You slowly made your way to the bathroom and leaned towards the mirror. As you gazed into your reflection, the harsh lights amplified every imperfection.

'I hate how I look,' you thought to yourself as you gazed into the mirror. Every day, you spent too long in the restroom, staring at your reflection, trying to figure out what was wrong with yourself.

Your shoulders were too wide, tummy too fat, and your cheeks were getting fuller by the day. It also doesn't help that your legs look so big on you and the way your thighs would touch together quite so much. You felt gross and ugly, and it seemed like nothing you did could make a difference.

You sighed as you cupped your cheeks, pretending to pull them behind your face. You longed to be slim and thin, or at the very least, pretty. But no matter how hard you tried, it seemed like you were doomed to be the ugly duckling for the rest of your life.

"Why did I let myself get this way?" you wondered.

Tears started to fall from your eyes as your self-pity reached new heights. You didn't understand why everyone else seemed to have it all figured out, while you were stuck here, hating yourself more and more each day.

You wondered if you would ever be able to accept yourself for who you are, or if you would forever be doomed to feel inferior to everyone around you. It was a painful feeling, and one that you struggled with every single day.

Your eyes slowly shifted towards the mirror in the restroom again, and you let out a heavy sigh. Without even really thinking, you started to pinch and pull at your skin. Your fingers zeroed in on your thighs and you frowned, unable to help but focus on the parts of your body that you didn't like.

Your hand then moved to your midsection, and you stared at your reflection in the mirror, feeling defeated. You wanted to look different, you wanted to look like the pretty girls in the magazines and on social media.

You wanted to be beautiful.

Tears started forming in your eyes again, and you brushed them away before your sobs could come after. You didn't want anyone to see you like this - didn't want Simon to see. You didn't want him to know how much you hated yourself. But it was a constant struggle, and one that you fought every single day.

You pinched the fat on your stomach, pulling it from side to side and watching as it jiggled.

"Why can't I just look normal?" you asked yourself, your voice cracking.

You moved on to your thighs, pinching the flesh that had been collecting there over the past few months.

"I look gross," you said to yourself, voice barely above a whisper. "I hate.. my body."

Tears started to pool in your eyes as you began to pull at your cheeks and the edges of your mouth, trying to pull them back to make yourself look thinner.

"I just can't stand looking like this," you said to yourself again and again, your voice catching in your throat.

But no matter how much you pinched and pulled, you couldn't make yourself look the way you wanted. The image in the mirror still looked like you – tired, fat, and flawed. You turned away from the mirror, feeling defeated and alone.

You wanted so badly to be able to pull the fat away and make your face look the way you wanted. In your mind's eye, you imagined how much better you would look if you could just lose a few pounds, if your stomach wasn't so rounded, if your thighs weren't so thick.

But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't seem to make a single inch of difference. The cycle of self-doubt and self-loathing was never-ending, and it seemed like you were doomed to remain trapped in your own head, unable to break free.

But then you looked down at the sink, and saw your reflection in the water, distorted and warped. You realized that in trying to fix your flaws, you had only made them worse. Your self-imposed torture was only making you hate yourself more.

It seemed like an eternity before you calmed down, your breathing slowing to a normal pace once again. However, you were still on the brink of tears.

What if Simon saw you like this? Would he still love you?

But you knew that Simon was more than just a pretty face. He was kind and gentle, and he accepted you for who you were, imperfections and all. As you stood in front of the mirror, you then stared at your reflection with a mix of sadness and frustration.

Your heart sank at the sound of a knock, and you quickly dried your tears. Then, your heart raced as your tried to compose yourself. You knew it was Simon – your husband, and the one person who understood you the most. You guys had been through a lot together, and you knew you could count on him to make everything better.

"I'm coming!" you called out, your voice shaky. You took a deep breath and smoothed down your clothes before making your way to the door.

As you opened it slowly, you saw Simon standing there, a sympathetic look on his face.

"Hey," Simon said softly, his voice full of compassion. He walked in and gave you a hug, as if he knew exactly what you needed. You hugged him back, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. You knew that Simon would always be there for you, no matter what.

"Hi," You let out a deep sigh and rested your head on his shoulder. "You're back early?"

Simon's warm embrace was exactly what you needed. You felt your body loosen up and your heart start to calm down as you let out another slow, deep breath.

You felt him nodded against your shoulder. "Yeah, my plans got canceled," he said softly, rubbing your back in a soothing motion.

You leaned into his embrace, humming a reply, feeling a sense of comfort. You needed this, you thought to yourself. You needed someone to remind you that you weren't alone, and that there were people in your life who cared about you – people who loved you just the way you are.

Despite your best efforts to hide your feelings, it was obvious that something was wrong. Simon squeezed your shoulder gently, as if he could sense what you were thinking. He knew that you were going through a tough time, but he also knew that you needed someone to talk to – someone who would listen and understand without judgment.

You took another breath, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. You were grateful for Simon. Grateful that he was in your life, and that he was there for you when you needed him the most.

"Is something wrong?" Simon asked, his tone soft and gentle.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. You didn't want to appear weak or needy, but you also didn't know how to hide your emotions from Simon.

"Love?"

Finally, you replied, "I'm just having a bad day. It's nothing you need to worry about."

"But.. I am worried," Simon said, his voice filled with concern. He pulled away from the hug to look at you. "You know you can tell me anything."

"I.." You sighed, feeling the weight of your insecurity and self-hatred bearing down on you. "I don't know, Simon. I just feel like I'm not good enough. Like I don't measure up."

"What do you mean?" he asked, the confusion on his face evident.

You looked down, not wanting to meet his eyes. "I, um, hate the way I look, I guess," you replied, trying to convey the depth of your dislike for yourself without stating it outright. You didn't want to burden him with the full extent of your self-loathing.

You watched as Simon's expression changed, going from confusion to concern. You sighed, knowing you had to be careful with your words. "It's just... I hate my body," you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Simon's eyes widened slightly, and you could tell he was beginning to understand.

"Oh, baby," he said softly. "You're beautiful, inside and out. I know it's hard, but try not to focus so much on how you look. There's so much more to you than that."

Simon leaned closer to you, his hand reaching out to hold your waist and the other at your chin. You looked up at Simon, grateful for his understanding and compassion.

"I know, but it's just so hard sometimes," you replied, your voice breaking again.

Simon pulled you into a hug, holding you close. "I know, love. But you're not alone. I'm here for you. You're not defined by your appearance. You're a kind, caring person, with so much to offer the world. Why'd you think I chose to marry you?"

You clung to Simon for a moment, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the love he held for you.

"My love," he continued, brushing a stray hair from your face to tuck in your ear. "You are more than enough. You are an amazing person, inside and out. I'm not just saying that. It's the truth. Understand, baby? The truth."

"I ... I can't do this," you choked as your sobs echoed the bathroom. It was all too much. It's as if you don't deserve all of his compliments to your body.

Simon took you into his arms, holding you close and rubbing your back soothingly. "Tell me, baby," he asked, his voice full of concern. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

You took a deep breath and hesitantly told him everything – about your insecurities, about how you never felt good enough, about how you hated how you looked like.

You leaned into Simon's embrace, seeking the warmth and comfort of his presence surrounding you. You close your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts and put them into words.

"It's just... I can't stop comparing myself to other people," you said finally, voice low and strained. "And every time I look at myself in the mirror, I just see all the things that are wrong with me. I can't seem to love myself, no matter how hard I try."

Simon squeezed your back, listening to you attentively.

"I know you mean well, Simon, but it's just so hard sometimes," you said, your voice still low and emotional. "I feel like everyone's always staring at me and judging me, especially when I wear something that shows off my body."

Simon's hand stroked your hair, trying to soothe your frazzled nerves. "You're beautiful, baby. And no one has the right to make you feel otherwise." He paused, his voice full of quiet intensity. "If anyone says anything to you, I'll deal with them, I promise."

Despite feeling down, you find yourself chuckling with tears in your eyes. His jokes were just so random and out of place, but you appreciated it nonetheless. Simon's voice was gentle and comforting as he pulled you closer to the hug, swaying your bodies in a slow, rhythmic motion.

"Tell me, pretty baby," he whispered, his eyes locked onto yours. "What's eating away at you?"

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your courage before you answered. "Well, it's my cheeks firstly," you said quietly, voice shaking slightly. "They're too huge.."

Simon's arms tightened around you, his voice filled with compassion. He leaned away from the hug and cupped your cheeks together. "Huge? Really, baby?" he asked.

"Yes, really..." You leaned into his embrace again, feeling the warmth of Simon and the love he held for you.

"Pretty baby," He said, cupping your cheeks again together. "I love these chubby cheeks you have. It makes you look like a hamster and god, you look so cute with them, don't you know that?"

"But everyone else has a perfect appearance," you said, voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I'll never be able to measure up."

Simon's eyes closed for a moment, as if he were searching for the right words to say. "You don't have to compare yourself to anyone else," he said finally, his voice fierce. "You're perfect just the way you are, my love. And I'll always be here to remind you of that."

Simon then kissed both of your cheeks affectionately and you feel tears welling up in your eyes again. He asks, "Do you have any more?"

You sighed. "What about my hips and thighs?" You continued, voice shaky with insecurity. "They're too big, too curvy. I'll never be able to wear the things I want to wear."

Simon's face softened even more as he listened to your words, his eyes full of understanding.

"Sweet baby," He coos at you and carefully places both of his hands onto your waist. "Your hips and thighs are a part of you, and they're beautiful. Nobody has the right to tell you otherwise. Your curves are beautiful and I love how it fits well in my hands when I hold them to touch you."

Your tears wouldn't stop running down.

"They're my love handles from you, my love," He added and it had struck a chord in your heart. You felt a weight lifted off your shoulders. His words had been like a balm to your soul, and you leaned into his embrace more, feeling a sense of peace and comfort wash over you.

Your tears continued to fall, but they were no longer those of sadness and insecurity. They were tears of gratitude, for having found someone who truly valued and loved you for who you are – curves and all.

You looked up at Simon, your eyes shimmering with a mix of joy and gratitude. "Thank you, Si’," you whispered, sniffing as you do so.

Simon stroked your cheek gently, his eyes full of love and affection. "You're welcome, baby. Fuck, I love you so much. Don't you ever forget that, okay?"

Simon's words hit you like a ton of bricks, lifting a weight you didn't even realize was there off of your shoulders.

"I love you too, Si'." You replied and rested your head on his shoulder, softly breathing in your choked sobs.

"I just want to love myself like how you love me." You cried into his embrace, all of the pain and insecurity you'd carried with you for so long finally coming to a head.

"I believe in you, love," Simon replied, his voice filled with conviction. "You're strong and capable and beautiful, inside and out. You don't need anyone else's approval to be those things. And I promise, I'll always be here to remind you of who you truly are."

You felt his arms tighten around you, his embrace warming you from the inside out. His words of encouragement filled you with a newfound sense of confidence, and you felt a sense of hope rising within you.

As Simon's words registered with you, you felt the weight of the tears rolling down your cheeks like an onslaught. You had been carrying the burden of your insecurities for so long, and the idea of someone else understanding what you were going through, and even accepting you for who you are, made you feel like maybe there was still hope.

Simon's embrace grew even tighter as he held you, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took. You could feel the comfort and warmth exuding from his body, and it made you feel like you were at home.

"Thank you," you said, nuzzling into his neck further. "I don't know what I would do without you, Si'"

"You'll never have to find out," Simon replied, his voice full of determination. "I'll be here for you, always. You're not alone, love. We'll face your insecurities together."

With those words and a kiss to your shoulder, you felt a sense of peace and acceptance wash over yourself. You knew that, with Simon on your side, you could get through anything, even your own perceived flaws and imperfections.

You leaned into his embrace more, feeling safe and loved for the first time in what felt like forever.

A/N: what the fuck. this made me cry again holy shit this rlly hit a nerve inside. what have u done to me anon !! jk i love this <//3

and to anyone who related to this, if you're feeling insecure about your body and struggling with body image issues, it's important to remember that you are so much more than your appearance. Everyone has their own unique features and qualities that make them special and valuable. Try to focus on your positive traits, both inside and out :) Surround yourself with supportive people who see you for who you truly are and appreciate you for all that you are. Remember that it's okay to have days where you don't feel your best, but try to be gentle with yourself and give yourself time to heal and grow <//3

Remember that you are not alone, and there are people who care about you and can help you through this difficult time !! It might be helpful to seek professional help or support groups if you feel like you're struggling. Ultimately, remember that your worth as a person is not tied to your appearance or weight. You are so much more than your exterior and deserve love and kindness no matter what. <//3

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official-megumin · 6 months

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there is always this discourse about if transfem and transmascs have it worse

And like, I know it's not really quantifiable and measureable to find the objective suckiness of being trans.

But like

Man it's gotta suck to be a trans guy. This is coming from the perspective of a trans girl btw.

I know that not all transmascs care about passing and having a "fully male body", like everyone decides for themselves what they wanna do. But let's see this from the perspective from a trans guy who wants to be as close to a cis perisex man as possible, this guy is also perisex afab, meaning normal development and stuff.

Ok, so for this man to "finish" his transition, he would need like, what? 3 surgeries. All of which are gatekept. He would need top surgery, tit chop as you say.

This is already a lot, and it sucks fucking dick that y'all have to wait for that. But other than that already sucky and gatekept surgery, we also have phalloplastry, which many countries including Denmark, doesn't offer at all because it's more complicated than vaginoplastry.

This is also a hugely impactful surgery, and I assume that for many trans men, it also doesn't really feel good enough because no semen and dick pump. Of course I'm no expert, so don't take what I say as gospel, I might flat out be wrong about many things.

But that still isn't it. By now we have moved past surgeries the average transfem would "need"

Like yes, many trans women end up getting BA and FFS to combat dysphoria on top of bottom surgery, but they aren't "required" in the same way. So let's round it out and say one half of both of those surgeries count, so that means that transfems on average get two gender affirming surgeries. Which means that now, transfem and transmasc surgery counts are the same.

But wait, there's more!

There are also hysterectomies to remove the uterus and ovaries. Which again is very extremely gatekept because "devine femininity"(bleugh)

That's three surgeries to transition "normally" for a transmasc versus the two of a transfem, already there it's more sucky.

Of course this is not taking other typically gendered features into account like hip and shoulder width, which is too variable to really take into account here. Also it is not as widely different between the sexes as some people claim.

But this is just the surgery front.

I can't even begin to imagine how dysphoria inducing dealing with menstruation must be to a trans man.

Like periods suck dick, I know that from personal exprience. It hurts like shit for like a week at a time and there's blood everywhere.

But for trans men you add fucking dysphoria on top of that???? Hellish, the female reproductive system is so invasive and intrusive. For transfems we can just y'know, not touch the thingy and we won't have to worry about a visceral bloody reminder every month that stays even after hrt starts.

Really what I want to say is that yea sure maybe transfems struggle more with sexism and such whilst transitioning, I'd argue even that is not quantifiable and will be hugely variable on how the individual looks(speaking from experience as a trans girl who has not once had transphobia aimed at her in person in public from strangers)

But the physical struggle of transitioning? I think that trans masculine transitions take the cake by far here. Like objectively too.

And all the transmascs out there at all, doesn't matter how dysphoric you are, or how far you wanna take your transition. I respect you so god damn much, and I'm in awe of all of you. You're genuinely incredible

#I'm really sorry if I phrased anything poorly or if I triggered dysphoria in anyone #I just wanted to give a different look on this stupid discourse because I think trying to decide who has it worse is pointless #and I just wanted to elavate transmasc people in general

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eu-nicola · 4 months

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Burning Tracks of Love - Max Verstappen x Reader

summary: The admiration you felt for Max since you were little turns into a complicated love. Career victories, jealousy and emotional turmoil

warnings: age-gap, infidelity, toxicity, manipulation and an unhealthy relationship

In the bustling paddocks of Formula 1, where the roar of engines and fierce competition are commonplace, life is complicated even if it doesn't seem like it and especially it was for you who had grown up among the glamor and deceptions of the circuits.

You were always in this world, especially in the red bull world, where you knew everyone since you were a little baby. And of course you knew the one who mattered most to you, Max Verstappen.

You and he met when you were just a baby, your father playing a crucial role in Max's engineering team.

You were always behind him, being a few years older than you, you admired him and he considered you a little sister who he taught to love Formula 1 as much as he did and you loved it.

As you grew up, that admiration became something more and it seemed that every day you were more in love with him even though he continued to see you as a girl.

You lost hope that at some point he would see you as a woman.

That hope that you always kept began to come true when you turned 18, he was already 26 but you didn't care at all and apparently neither did he. At first you didn't notice but when you saw him you didn't know why you hadn't noticed. The times he stood behind you as if he had to protect you from something or when he rested his hand on your bare back, the times you wore dresses and there were also those messages at dawn telling you that he missed you.

You were an idiot for not having realized those things but the affection he showed didn't seem strange to you, it was normal for him with the people he loved, always looking for a way to be kind.

Over the next few weeks, the attraction they both felt intensified, fueled by looks and touches. And although you tried with all your might to avoid him, you couldn't help but fall into his arms, his words were like sweet honey to your ears and the perfect way he had of making you always stay despite his temperament or character, every time he met you. He called, you were always there for him no matter what and when he needed your body you also gave it to him as you had already done with your entire being.

The pretty things were always there when you were by his side but the ugly things were too and when he got angry with you he would always talk about how if you kept bothering him he would go away with his girlfriend and not talk to you anymore and that filled you with fear, you didn't want him to leave you no after everything you had waited, so you just shut up and talked or gave your opinion what he wanted and even when he calmed down they talked about the races and it was one of the few moments of peace that they still shared like in the old days.

In every race won you hated seeing how she kissed Kelly, wishing you were the one who really appeared with him in all the photos and you hated her for that until you remembered that you had no reason to do it and you just left. And after every race he called you to celebrate, you didn't know how he did it but Max always found a way to look for you and take you alone with him to any place where in the end you always ended up under him sobbing his name, with promises whispered in your ears and with the crazy ideas he had of becoming you a mother and carrying all his children.

It was always like this, and the next morning he would disappear and if he didn't he would find a way to start arguing, although that morning there was something different as you saw the hundreds of messages he had with other women, all of them his age or older, none of them a girl like you You scolded yourself in your thoughts as you cried thinking that you were the only one for him. When you wanted to discuss it with him he simply didn't listen to you and avoided the topic, quickly leaving you alone again.

You couldn't get rid of him because when he called you you would run to his side to console him for anything that happened to him, and it didn't matter how painful it was to be by his side because no matter what he did you always choose him and you would always be there for him, you were always there.

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic #fanfic #oneshot #imagine #x reader

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speedycoffeedelight · 23 days

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An Animalistic Disaster

CH-19 : A Deer Vs Wolves

Masterlist

Summery :Where you get your ass saved from being almost killed.

*Some time after you left*

Alastor and Niffty was sitting outside the cabin, lazily enjoying each others company. Niffty had turned into a human and leaned against Alastor's body. Alastor, even though he hated dogs,he has learned to at least tolerate Niffty's presence. That doesn't mean he allowed her to stay close to him in her full dog form. That form irked him.

"Hey Alastor.." Niffty finally broke the silence. "Do you think you'll ever transform?"

'Of course I will. Why would you doubt that?'

"Because what if you don't like (Y/n) ever? You need to like her so you can be human again."

Alastor scoffed and looked away. ' Don't you worry your little head about it. I will find a way somehow. I am the radio demon after all.'

Niffty still wasn't convinced as she looked into the distance again. "You know, she's likes you a lot! We talk about you sometimes."

That got his attention. He turned his head towards Niffty again. 'What did you guys talk about? It better not be something to tarnish my reputation my dear!'

" That's girl's talk silly. I can't tell you that! " Niffty chuckled with both hands covering her mouth. Alastor rolled his eyes at such a display ."But I can tell that she really likes you."

'We know that already. That isn't something new. I'm used to ladies fawning over me.' Alastor thought back to his time as a human in the 19's. Indeed, despite his colour back then, women would throw themselves at him nonchalantly. It was both a blessing and a curse for him. Blessing since it helped his popularity grow, curse since he hated those type of contacts. This lowered a lot after he became an overlord. People were far to afraid to approach him then.

"Yes but she's different. She might like you but she'll never push herself onto you. You're rumoured to be asexual and she respects that."

'I'm a what now?'

"Asexual!" Niffty repeated herself. "Don't you know what it is?"

'I'm afraid not dear. Is it one of those modern slangs?'

"Of course not! Let me explain what it is then."

And thus Niffty spent almost an hour and a half explaining different types of sexualities to him, including asexuality. It took a lot of tries to get Alastor to properly understand the concept.

' So you mean to say, that it's normal to not want to engage in such activities? My, all this time I thought I just hadn't found the right girl for me to have those desires. Or worse, there was something wrong with me...' Alastor's smile faltered a bit. It was crazy how times had changed. Normally he didn't like such changes but this was one of the better ones.

'Of course, not that I mind about having something wrong within me. Haha! I am a serial killer after all.' His smile came back as quickly as it disappeared, not wanting to seem vulnerable in front of someone. He supposed he could admire your respect about his boundaries too. Unlike those other girls in his past, you actually cared to make him comfortable, no matter how much you liked him. It made him feel a bit....warm inside.

He spent the next few hours just chatting with Niffty. As sun began to set, Vaggie came over to the pair.

"Hey, (Y/n) hasn't returned yet. It's already getting late. She said she'd be back before sunset. Have any of you guys seen her?"

Niffty and Alastor looked at each other and shook their head. "No...we haven't. We've just been chatting here all afternoon." Vaggie sighed, worry immenent in her face. "I see... sorry for bothering you then."

As Vaggie went back to the cabin, she couldn't help but think about what might have happened to you. You were an adult human. You could handle a night out yourself. Still worries begun to rush in one after another.

"Alastor...you don't think something happened to her do you?" Before Alastor could reply, a howl broke through the night. Both Niffty and Alastor's ears perked up. A blue light caught in the corner of their eyes. Whipping their head towards it, they strangely found a bright blue butterfly that was seemingly glowing in the dark.

Just like you before, they couldn't help but follow it. It felt like it was the right course of action. Though they couldn't tell why. They began to chase after the butterfly at full speed as it was rushing through the forest. Niffty had already transformed into her dog form to run faster.

Soon Niffty picked up scent of something. It was blood. There a familiar scent with it. Your scent.

Niffty's eyes widened with the realization as she shouted at Alastor to let him know. Soon enough, they were able to hear faint growls, snarls from distant. What really made their heart almost stop was the low moaning of you.

You tried. You really tried to hold on by yourself as long as you could while trying to find find a way to escape. You picked up a nearby branch you found to defend against this horde of wolf that were dead set on eating you.

But there were only much you can do. After some time, you were bleeding all over, barely standing. A wolf's claw teared a big slash on your back. Another one almost teared your leg off before you gave it a good punch. There were small scratchs and bite marks all over. The blood coming out from all over your body was starting to harden on your clothes.

It was hurting to stand already as your body reached it's limit. You collapsed on your knees as the bloody branch you were holding fell down with a thud. You couldn't do this, not anymore. It all hurt too much. You felt tears pricking at your eyes as you thought of your inevitable death. Would there even be anything left of your body after these wolves finished eating you? How much would it...hurt?

A wolf jumped on you, teeths bared to finally consume your sweet flesh. It's teeth were only a few inches above your face as you closed you eyes. Suddenly something small but fierce jumped onto its neck from a side and bit onto it, pushing it to the ground. A sickening crunch followed soon after.

You opened your eyes warrily a little. Your vision was still blurry so you couldn't see clearly. Judging by the sound of the small thing...it was probably a dog. It looked back at you and transformed.

"(Y/n)!.......okay?? We'll...out..here.."

You couldn't hear her words clearly. You saw a big black figure rush through and stand in front of you protectively while facing the wolfs. Did they come to protect you? If so, you could rest a little right? You finally collapsed and shut your eyes.

Your head fell down on Niffty's lap as she shook you to keep you awake. 'Niffty my dear! Focus on protecting (Y/n) and getting her back to the cabin. I'll deal with the wolves!'

Alastor shouted out while looking forward at the canines. It was clear the wolves remembered him just as he did, increasing their anger tenfold. His consciousness was shouting at him to run. He doesn't need to do this. You weren't worth risking his life for. But against his better judgement he was still standing here, between you and these vicious animals.

One of the wolfs lunged forward as he quickly moved out of the way and pierced it with his antlers. But another one quickly followed and bit behind him. He kicked it off him as fresh trail of blood flew from his body.

"Alastor! Her conditions getting worse!" Niffty said screaming. "She'll die if we don't do something about it!"

Alastor knew that already. Niffty didn't have to spell it out for him to know how dire your situation is. He only gritted his teeth. No matter how much he thought, he couldn't think of a way out. It seemed like you understood that as well.

"L..eave..me..go.."

You choked out with the last of your breath before blacking out. Alastor pulled his ears back. You remained ever the good girl till your last drop of consciousness. Always sacrificing yourself for others sake. How admiring....

It's not like that thought didn't cross his mind. Leaving you here should be the wise course of action here. Yet why did did he feel so....bad? Is it because he lived with you all this time? Or when he saw how careful you are with touching him when you were stitching? Or the things Niffty told him about you this afternoon? He wasn't sure. He knew if he returned without you, everyone would shun him out.

"Haha...." He chuckled bitterly at himself. Perhaps you have began to make an effect on him. Whatever happens, he decided,

He was going to stay by your side.

Golden light shone brightly along his body, blinding the wolves that were about to approach him. Alastor looked at his hands. "Finally... about time..."

Suddenly a familiar blue light shone in the corner of Niffty's eyes. Turning her head towards it she saw the butterfly again. It was sitting on top of a carcass. Wait no, it was sitting on top of a handle. A handle that sparkled brightly from the moonlight radiating of it now. It was (Y/n)'s knife, Niffty recognised.

Looking around, when she saw no wolves close by she chased to it. The butterfly flew away again into the distance as she arrived. Niffty picked up the knife in a swift motion. "Alastor! Catch!"

Alastor eye's darted towards Niffty's voice that wasn't behind him anymore. He was about to scold her for leaving you alone but held his tongue when he saw the sparkle of a knife shine in her hands before she threw it at him. He caught it effortlessly in his right hand. As soon as she threw it, she ran back to you and scratched at a wolf that was threatening to come too close for comfort while growling.

Alastor was bleeding from his forehead and multiple gashes from all over his body. But he felt newfound strength flow through him as soon as he held the knife. Ah, he missed this, this thrill of the hunt. He had a crazed expression on his face as he looked over at the wolves standing before him now. The ears on his head perked up as it sensed a wolf coming in closer. Just as it launched he moved out of the way and cut a big slash across it's neck and kicked it away. The wolf's now limp and dead body fell onto the ground beside you and Niffty.

"Come on, it's time to play, puppies..."

On the other hand, everyone was worried sick at the cabin. Angel found the bag you left at the edge of the forest and brought it home.

"What if something bad happened to her... Vaggie I'm scared!"

"Clam down toots! I'm sure she's fine.... probably..." Angel looked away, not being convinced by his very own statement.

"We cannot find Alastor and Niffty either. If Niffty was here, maybe she could have sniffed (Y/n) out." Pentious pointed at his nose. Husk took a gulp of orange juice you had since alcohol was gone. You really needed to stock up on some alcohol.

"What if we all go find 'er?" Cherri proposed. "She should be around somewhere here right? Since her bag was found close, she should be close as well."

"We... could do that...but what if we get lost? It'll take forever for everyone to get back together again." Vaggie looked at everyone present. "But it'll be our last choice, if she or Alastor or Niffty doesn't come back within half an hour. We're going out."

The fight was going much better then before. Alastor easily transformed between deer and human befitting of the situation. He could stab a wolf with a knife and then toss it in the air and kick another in its shin after transforming. Then again collect the knife after becoming human. It was fun.

But this couldn't go on forever. He knew that from the fatigue coursing through his body. He had to end this quickly while the adrenaline was still present. After some more slashes and stomps, he remained the only one standing in a field of fresh corpses.

He didn't have time to celebrate his victory. As soon as the last wolf was down, he quickly returned to you. The black stripes of his dress has been painted red with both his blood and the animals. He crouched down to inspect your pulse. It was weak, but you still had it. Alastor let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding.

Alastor put the knife away in his pocket. He softly picked you up in his arms, careful not to put too much pressure on the cuts of your body. His own body was hurting severely, but he needed to be strong for your sake.

"Niffty, run back to the cabin and tell Vaggie to come immediately. And also bring someone to help carry her quickly. I'll be right behind you."

Niffty nodded her head and began sprinting towards your cabin. Alastor looked at your face with a soft gaze. He leaned down and whispered, "Stay strong my dear. You'll be fine, I promise.." With a final breath he began heading towards the cabin as moonlight shone on both of you.

Perhaps because he was so caught up to save you, he didn't notice a pair eyes watching the whole thing.

"Interesting...."

By the time Niffty reached the cabin, she found all of them standing outside, ready to depart in search of you. Their eyes widened seeing Niffty with blood on her dress.

"NIFFTY WHAT HAPPENED??"

It didn't take long enough for Vaggie to reach Alastor with Niffty alongside to guide her. Alastor gave a small smile towards the crowd as they collectively gasped seeing the both of you. Without wasting a moment, you were transferred on the back of Husk as Vaggie cast her healing. Alastor was about to fall down but Pentious caught him just in time.

"Hang onto me!" Pentious took one of Alastor's hands and slid it over his shoulder to support him. Vaggie kept casting her healing all the way to the cabin as Charlie started to cry. You were placed in your room with Vaggie, Charlie and Cherri. They changed your bloody cloths and cleaned you up first. Only then the boys were allowed to come.

Alastor on the other hand was placed on the lounge in the other room with only Niffty and Husk. Niffty sew up all the cuts and scratches he had and Husk just stood in a corner watching. Alastor wasn't comfortable with showing anyone else his bare body.

After that was done Alastor laid down on the lounge with a cover on his body as Angel walked in and popped next to him sighing and started a smoke.

" How's....(Y/n)?" Alastor found himself asking while looking at the ceiling. He didn't want to appear too worried for you, yet he could help but be anxious. " She'll live. Vaggie's doin all she can to save her." Angel took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke. "But what exactly happened? Why was she in that forest and how did you two find her?"

Alastor and Niffty began to tell their tale from when they found the butterfly to Niffty seeing the butterfly on the knife to Alastor carrying you. He skipped the part of his determination to protect you though. But he greatly told the tale of him slaughtering the wolves with great detail that left Angel's stomach turning.

" That butterfly...do ya think it could be a demon like us?"

"It's very much possible. It certainly wasn't any normal butterfly. But how did it gain the power to control us? I don't think any of us had any power like that."

" What if it's something entirely different from us? " Niffty jumped in.

" That would certainly explain this phenomenon. Though we can't really be sure. To know about it properly we need that butterfly. But that isn't a safe choice considering what happened today. "

A silence befell the room once again as Cherri slipped into the room. She took a sit next to Angel. "Vaggie's working her magic right now. If she wasn't here, not sure what woulda happened to her."

" Yeah...also smiles, ya transformed..." Angel said with a toothed grin looking back at him. He had deep curly brown hair and light brown skin. Two fluffy deer ears stayed atop his head. His glasses which were drowning in blood when they first saw him was cleaned again and sitting on his face. Plus Angel could swear he saw a brown tail poking out from behind Alastor's dress when Pentious carried him back.

Alastor's amber coloured eyes scanned Angel's face. He knew exactly what Angel was trying to get at.

" So ya do have feelings for-"

" None of that! "

" But you needed to have intense feelings

to transform ~"

" I merely wished to protect her that's

all. If I came without her you all would have scorned me."

" Same thing!"

With Alastor transforming, it meant the whole crew was human once again. Things should be a lot easier now.

" Also...does (Y/n) know about this? That

we need to have feelings for her to

transform? "

" Obviously not. We all collectively agreed to keep this a secret from her."

The night went by rather quickly. Before Alastor knew it, he was falling asleep. The fatigue and the effects of blood loss finally caught up to him.

You opened your eyes the next day at afternoon. The first thing you realised that almost every part of you hurt. With a huff and a grunt you pushed yourself up a bit. Vaggie was sleeping lying her head on the bed and and her hands on your torso. Charlie was asleep on the desk on the other side of the room. Angel came in with a plate of food and he let out a scream seeing you awake. He quickly put the food down on the table and rushed to you.

Apparently Vaggie has been healing you nonstop throughout the night, she pushed her body to her limit and passed out around the morning . Charlie was the same, she used her ability to smoothly clean your cuts and remove branches stuck to you. Your eyes widened hearing about Alastor.

" Alastor? Where is he?"

" He's fine, he's in the other room. Do you want me to call him to you?"

" Yes, him and everyone else. I want to know what exactly happened..."

Alastor wore one of Pentious's shirt's for now. He and others soon joined in your room. You made sure to talk quietly so you didn't wake up the sleeping girls. They deserve to rest.

"That butterfly....that damn butterfly is the reason behind all this.."

"But I don't understand one thing." Pentious looked lost in throught with a hand on his chin. "Why would that butterfly bring you both to danger and then help you fight back?"

"To know that we need to be in contact with it. But there's no need to rush considering what happened."

You sighed loudly, all that matters that all of you were still in one piece. You'll have to take a few days off from your work to recover. You'll ask your colleague to cover for you. He owes you one anyway for the time you secured him a date with his crush.

That being said, you finally looked at Alastor properly. This guy was handsome as fuck. His brown locks fell onto his bandaged forehead in a lazy manner. His honey eyes locked into yours as he felt you staring at him. You quickly averted your gaze, but you knew that he knew you were staring. A smirk formed on his face as he leaned in close to you.

"Don't I get a thank you for saving you back there, my darling?"

You let out a small yelp and whipped your head towards him. Then again backed your face away when you found his face inches apart from yours. When did he get so damn close?

"Yes uh, thank you..for saving me back there."

Alastor's grin just got wider seeing your flustered expression. He booped your nose as you blinked in confusion.

"Dear don't think I forgot all the things you did and said when I was stuck as a deer. I promise to pay back every.last.bit."

You couldn't help but gulp in the way he said it. Plus the intensity of his stare just added to this making you feel like fainting for the second time now. Just what did you get yourself into?

"Yeah, smiles ya gotta back up a bit. If Vaggie was awake she'd chew your ass up."

"Don't worry, I won't bother her too much. Rest assured my friend."

Something clicked into you just then. Today's the day you've been waiting for a long time. Hazbin hotel season one has officially been released!

"Guys, wake Charlie and Vaggie up again! We have your future to watch!"

A.n: Sorry for the long wait. College has been straining all my energy and will to live (⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ

This was one of the main scenarios that has been on my mind since the beginning of the fanfic. I had to start writing a whole ass story to make it understandable lol.

Also guys! GUYS!! I GOT FANARTS!!! LOOK AT THIS!!

These two were the first ones that got sent. It's Vox as the blue butterfly. Man I love his suit 🫠🫠

The second was this, our two girls!! Charlie and Vaggie both in their animal and human forms!! Also there's our first ever transformation moment~

Y'all remember the iconic moment of Husk putting on our shirt? 🥹🥹 They drew this!!! And there's our cutiepie Niffty and Mr. Precious!!

Man I can't believe my silly little fanfic inspired someone to draw fanarts!!! God I was so thrilled!! All of these wonderful fanrts are drawn by @/ Little_Wonders7 (twitter) @littlewonders7 (Tumblr) thank you again!!!

As for who the butterfly actually is....I think this will disappoint a lot of you..

Yes, tis I, your own author. Or the Hazbinfication animal of your author. I couldn't think of any way to bring reader back to the forest where the transformation was supposed to take place. So I forced a reason by placing myself there.(⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

This conversation is a thought I had while putting myself there so I decided to draw it.

A clue about this was on my twitter account where there's a blue butterfly on my pinned plus my profile. Shout-out to "sdsblogmainblog" to be the only one to get it!! I feel sorry to everyone who came up with cool theories on who the butterfly could be (⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠）

Also no, the pair of eyes watching Alastor and reader was not the butterfly and DW I won't interfere in the story much.

And the winner of the voting issss

🎊VOX🎊

Vox had 27 votes on wattpad

0 votes on Tumblr

11 votes on ao3

Total - 38

Velvette had 12 votes on wattpad

3 votes on Tumblr

16 votes on ao3

Total - 31

I wrote "Your vote has been counted" on the votes I collected. So if you guys want, you can recheck. And I'll explain the requirements of a new character arriving in our world in the next chapter since this is already getting long (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

Also towards people who are sad velvette lost. I only asked who'll be in the harem, not who'll come into this world. And this goes for every single character. Take this how you will.

Stay tuned folks~

Tag list: @legostars @glowinthedarkbones1150 @darifes @aria-tempest @rainbowcake1212 @luxylucylou

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bluegalaxygirl · 24 days

Text

Amnesia (KidKiller X Reader) P1

Plot: After an explosion reader wakes up in a hospital with no memory of the past few years, her parents want to take her home so she can recover and get back to a normal life while the Kid pirates want her back on the ship where she belongs.

Warning: Bad language, Violence, Death and Blood.

Reader is Female, Poly Relationship, established relationship, Kid X Reader X Killer, Reader is a member of the Kid pirates and is in charge of the money, Budgeting and negotiating the best price.

< Previous part ..... Next Part >

Gunfire, cannon fire, yelling and screams fills the air as the Kid pirates take on the many marine ships in search of the treasure they were carrying. There's never a real plan when your with the Kid pirates since Captain Kid usually charges in head first destroying anything and everything in his way but Killer made sure to give the crew an idea of what to expect and how to go about things. The crew split up into groups taking on different ships in search of the treasure while others stayed on the Victoria firing cannonballs at the marine ships that were coming as backup. If they found the treasure then they would load it onto a smaller ship to send it back to the Victoria Punk before sinking the ship or calling out to their Captain, so he could continue his destruction. Several ships had already sunk thanks to Kid going a little crazy on the violence, it seemed random but the pirate Captain has been doing this long enough to know just by looks which ships won't carry any kind of treasure. It didn't matter if his crew were on those ships since they knew well enough to stay out of their captains away and get off any ship he was going to attack. Killer went straight for the biggest ship knowing thats where their leader is, The marine was only ranked a captain, he honestly expected a higher rank with how many ships there were and how much treasure and weapons their supposedly carrying, but he couldn't complain. While the few crew members he was with searched the ship and took out the low ranked marines Killer fought against their leader slashing and kicking at the man who could hardly keep up with the first mates movements and speed.

Heat used a rope to swing from one marine ship to another, he rolled before pulling out his sword and slashing a marine that ran at him before standing up right. He has no chose but to switch groups since the ship you were on had explosives, his fire would make things worse, but he had confidence that you can handle it and get the ship away from the fight so it doesn't hurt the crew. Heat scans the deck seeing marine body's scattered all over, but he couldn't see any of his crew until a girl with short blonde hair runs out of one of the rooms carrying two large bags of what sounded like gold coins. "Heat, what are you doing here?" Hip yells seeing her crew mate and running up to him before coming to a stop "That ship has explosives on them, be careful in case the others do too" Heat reply's earning a frustrated sigh from the woman "Great that's just what we need, The Boss is still going mental, Killer is fighting a Captain a few ships over and now some of the ships might have explosives" She groans as other members of the crew start running over holding wooden crates and bags of gold. "Get the treasure back to the Victoria and tell the others to be on the look out, I'll inform Killer and Kid" Heat order the group who all nod before running off to the boat that will take them back to their ship. With Killer a few ships away and Kid further than that he knew he would have to swing his way over using the ropes while also fighting any marines that got in his way.

The marine Captain pants while holding his stomach after being slashed by Killers blade, other marines came in to help only to be quickly taken out by the first mate. Using the last of his strength the marine yells while running at the masked man bringing his sword down to slash at the masked man but Killer easily doges it while spinning his blades and cutting the marine captain in half. Two thunks hit the decks floor but after that it was silent, no more yelling, screaming or gunfire from the ship he's currently on until someone lands on the deck. Killer turns ready to fight only to see Heat, his friend letting go of the rope before stepping closer, anxiety wells up inside the masked man since head is supposed to be with you "Some ships have explosives but Hips group found some of the treasure" Heat explains as quickly as he can while looking out at the other ships seeing his Captain bringing a big mental hand down on one braking it in half and making it sink. Killer sighs before turning to look over at Kid "HAY KID" The first mate yells managing to get the captain's attention who jumps over to the ship their on, landing hard on the deck his boots cracking the wood bellow until he releases some of the metal on his arm making him much lighter "You found the treasure yet?" Kid asks walking over to the two, Heat nods but looks back to the ship you were on, his eyes widening when noticing it was heading towards the Victoria Punk "What the fuck is she doing?" He didn't mean to yell it out loud, but he didn't think you would bring the ship closer, unless it wasn't you doing it.

Killer and Kid jump at the sudden yell of their friend since its highly unlike him to yell, turning their attention to the ship he's looking at Killer places a hand on Heats shoulder turning his crew mate to face him "What is going on?" The masked man's voice was calm but there was a bit of worry in his voice "That ship has explosives on it, Y/n was supposed to steer it out to sea not towards the Victoria" Heat panics but soon hears Kid let out a laugh "Don't worry, look its turning away, our feisty girl's got this" The captain smiles watching as the marine ship heads further and further out to sea before starting to turn going to head to the marine ships that are coming as backup, the three relax knowing you now have the ship under your control "Alight lets get ba-" Kid goes to order when a cannon goes off soon followed by an explosion, his eyes widen as the ship you were on burst into flames and rips apart, a wave of hot hair rushes across the sea causing the water to ripples and bounces forcing the marine ships to crash into each other. The sound of creaking, cracking and yelling rings through the air as the marines and the Kid pirates all try to get to safety, marine ships thats crash into each other start to break apart making masts fall either hitting another ship or crashing into the water. The three covers their faces with their arms as the hot air reaches them almost forcing them back a bit while the marine ship their on sways a little, once the burning wave of heat passes the three look up from their arms seeing the burning mast of the ship you were on cracks apart and fall into the water as the ship starts to sink.

Kid curses out loud his heart pounding in his chest at the thought of losing you and the members of his crew that were on that ship, His legs move before he can tell them too starting to run off jumping from ship to ship, the explosion made all the ships move loser together so it was easy for the captain to jump from one to the next. Killer felt his heart stop for a second, but he hoped you had gotten off the ship before it went up in flames, The masked man was quick to follow his captain "Heat, get the rest of the crew back to the Victoria" Killer yells back stopping Heat from following. The first mate knew that with the marine ships still crashing into each other and falling apart that the rest of the crew is in danger. The two only stop when they make it to the last none sinking marine ship, but they were still not close enough. The burning ship is too far out to sea, the only things they could make out were pieces of wood floating and black shadow's under the water although they were too far away to know if it was a part of the ship or a person. "Kid, we should get the crew back to the Victoria, take out the other marine ships, and then we can look for Y/n and the others" The first mate finally speaks snapping the captain out of his spiraling thoughts of how they might find you, he didn't like the idea of backing off but on the other hand Killer was good at planning and it would be easier to find you and the other crew members without all the fighting and other marine ships around. "Shit, fine." Kid growls at Killer who nods letting his finger loop over one of his captains.

It didn't take too long for everyone to gather what they could and make it back to the Victoria, Kid sank a few ships on the way back and once all the crew other than your group was accounted for the Victoria unloaded Cannon fire ripping apart the marine ships along with some of the back up ones. Seeing they were out matched by the pirate crew the other marine ships fled out to sea, with the air around the sea now silent and night falling, Kid orders his crew to head over to the slightly burning marine ship and look for the rest of the crew. In groups the crew put small boats in the water and headed out as the Victoria sat in the water close by, their lantern's helped in the fading light while Killer and Kid stood in the dinosaurs skull looking out at the almost fully submerged ship. The wait was long making the already worried and tense atmosphere worse, when ever a lantern lingered too long hope and relief ran through the two but when it moved on with no call outs that feeling quickly vanished. Killer slowly moves his hand closer to Kids linking a finger with one of his captains who quickly grabs his hand holding it tight "We'll fine them all" Kid whispers mainly to himself but Killer nods stepping a little closer while squeezing his captains hand "They'll be fine" The first mate whispers back knowing Kid is worried about the crew but mainly you, the two don't like to show favorites but your their partner, their lover, it breaks their heart thinking of you hurt or gods forbid dead in the water.

Heat stands by the railing near the ladder waiting for the crew to find someone, anyone, guilt runs through him since he should have been on that ship with them. Wire tried to comfort his friend, but he knows until they found you and the others that guilt wouldn't be going away. A few boats soon head back bring them some hope but as they get closer its clear mainly by House's face that something was very wrong. House is your best friend on the ship and the doctor so for her normally cheerful face to be lifeless made them think the worst. Heat and Wire help them up onto the ship as Kid and Killer make their way over stopping as House looks down at the deck with a sigh "I'm sorry captain we didn't find anyone" Her hands clench into fists at her side as Hip walks over placing her hand on the doctors shoulder in comfort. "A few of us managed to check some of the inside but there are only dead marines" Hip continues for House who starting to shake a little trying not to cry in front of everyone. Killer grits his teeth feeling a crushing weight press against his chest, he didn't want his mind to wonder but it did, were you further inside the now sunken ship where they couldn't get too? Or where you at the bottom of the ocean? Kid looks down at the two girls unsure of how to react to the news, he was beyond angry but not at them, his crew did a good job, but he's also upset and frustrated the feeling of wanting to scream and break something consumed him. After a while of silence and Kid's glare out at sea getting more and more angry Wire ushers the crew who are still on the deck away from the situation.

Heat refuses to go though instead he walks up to his two longest and oldest friends "I-I'm sorry… I should have been on that ship with them. She told me to leave but i should have forced them all to come with me… I'm so sorry" Heat pants a little while gripping his arm tight, he's never felt this way before, guilt is something a pirate shouldn't feel but at the moment thats all he could feel. Kid sighs knowing his friend isn't at fault for this, no one thought that the marines would fire at their own ship knowing their men were still on it "I don't blame you" Kid suddenly states before turning and storming off, his boots heavy and loud on the deck as he tries to control his anger and hurt. Killer lets out a breath trying to clam himself down, he places a hand on Heats shoulder giving him a simple nod that tells him that its not his fault before running after his captain. Kid kicks open any door in his way as he heads to the bedroom, his mind fixed on one thing as Killer catches up to him trying to calm the red head down, hoping he wouldn't put holes in anymore walls or doors. "Kid, i know your angry, i am too but i'm sure she's out there" Killer tries to calm Kid but the captain ignores him while kicking open the door to their bedroom, luckily the hinges didn't break this time so Killer closes the door behind them knowing it will give them both the privacy they need at the moment. Heading straight for a chest of draws Kid looks over the small wooden box sitting on top of it, but he couldn't bring himself to open it.

The box contains three Vivre cards, Yours, Kid's and Killers, but he was scared that when he opened it there would only be two along with a pile of ash where yours should be. Killer sighs taking off his mask and placing it on the bed before walking over and placing a hand on his lovers shoulder "She's alive, i know it, we'll find her" The first mate moves his hand down to hold Kid's hand. The captain turns his head now seeing the face of the man he loves, it helps calm him a bit, but he still can't bring himself to open the box. Killer knows the man too well some times, so he squeezes Kids hand while the other moved to the box, unlatching it he can't help but hold his breath before opening the box. Relief flowed through the two as their eyes landed on your card, it was slightly burned at the edges but it was there which means your alive. They knew your hurt but the corners have stopped burning away which means you or someone has managed to patch you up as much as possible. The two let out a breath as Kid goes to picks up your card only for it to move slightly to the side, raising an eyebrow the captain looks to the window that the card was moving towards, it was just open sea. Killer picks up the card lightly feeling it with his fingers as it twitches in his hand trying to move in the direction you are "Either she's drifting out to sea or the marines have her" Killer sighs either way it was bad but at least now they have a way of finding you "If the marines have her then they most likely have the others too" Kid sighs while pinching the bridge of his nose while letting go of Killer and heading to the door, he places his hand on the handle but doesn't open it instead waiting for his partner to put his mask back on and join him "We'll set sail and follow the Vivre card" Kid states as Killer nods walking over to the door while fixing his mask into place.

----- You, Bubblegum, Boogie, Gig and Emma -----

Boogie breaks the surface of the water taking in a deep breath for air as he lifts you up out of the water, Gig reaches out helping to drag your uncontuse and bleeding body into the large slab of wood that was once part of the marine ship. Unfortunately for the group it was currently floating out to sea, the Victoria punk hardly visible from how far out they all are, the rippling waves forcing them further and further out to sea. "Shit, what do we do?" Emma asks as she leans over your body unsure of where to put her hands, Your head was bleeding badly but the gash on your shoulder was also oozing blood. "Stop sitting around and put pressure on something" Boogie yells as he gets onto the board of wood before crawling over and placing his large hands on your shoulder. Emma nods and places her hands on the top of your head trying to feel where the blood is coming from with slightly shaking hands. Gig nods at the orders starting to look over your burned legs, he may not be a doctor, but he knows better than to touch the burns in case they get infected, so he looks over your torso seeing blood and pieces of glass and wood sticking into your skin. "We need to get her to House" Gig gulps unsure how to help since the only doctor is on the Victoria Punk which is getting further and further away. Before anyone can answer or do anything a cannon ball lands next to them in the water the three shielding themselves while also trying not to fall off the slab of wood as the water ripples on one side almost toppling over.

A small marine ship glides through the water behind them soon coming to a halt as the cannons are aimed at them along with guns that several marines are holding "Your under arrest, put your hands up, and we won't kill you" A marine in a white coat steps closer yelling at the group bellow him, Gig growls while gripping his fists but the three are way out numbered and hurt with hardly any weapons so Boogie clears his throat while keeping pressure on your shoulder "Fine, we surrender" Emma and Gig turn to look at him in shock but the man sighs and looks down knowing they have no chose, Their Captain was too far away, you were injured and the three were just floating out to sea, they had no where to go. It was their best option, at least they would all get medical treatment and a place to rest, Their crew will come after them so there was no need to worry, Kid will set them all free soon. The Marines cuffed everyone before dragging you all onto the ship, forcing everyone who's awake onto their knees. The white coated marine looks the group over before sighing and turning his back "Take them to the cells" He waves his hand while walking away, Emma's eyes widen at his words "Hay wait aren't we going to get medical treatment… Our friends hurt" She calls out while struggling against the marine who's holding her cuffed hands behind her back, the white coated marine stops in his tracks and laughs throwing his head back while holding his stomach "Why would i help a bunch of pirates?" He asks before walking again some of the other marines laughing along with him.

Boogie growls kicking at one of the marines trying to force them to let him got, but they punch him in the face as the others are dragged off bellow deck to where the cells are. The four are thrown into a dark cell only lite by a single candle hung up high on the metal wall, the cell door closes and locks before the marines give them a smile and walk away. "Bastards get back here" Gig yells after them struggling to get to his feet with his injured leg and hands behind his back. "Guys?" A familiar voice calls out in happiness, Bubblegum steps out from the darkness his hands cuffed in front of him unlike the others, he was hurt a bit but has a reveled smile on his face. "Bubblegum, your ok" The three yell as the tall blue haired man runs over to them only for his smile to drop at seeing your body still bleeding on the floor "Oh shit" He states as the others sigh letting him over to you and kneel down to inspect your wounds. "Their refusing to treat any of our wounds.. what do we do?" Gig asks as he sits with his back to you his hands trying to hold pressure on your shoulder, but he couldn't tell if they were in the right place or not. Bubblegum adjusted his hands for him helping Gig put pressure on the right place before looking around the room trying to think of what they can use to help you out. "The blanket and candle, we can use the blanket to stuff the wound and then the wax over the top to hopefully seal it… Boogie hoist me up" The blue haired man walks over to the metal wall with his crew mate who kneels down letting the blue haired man sit on his shoulders.

It was a struggle to get the candle Bubblegum trying to balance as the ship slight sways but with their combined heights it wasn't long until Bubblegum grabbed the candle and pulled it out of its holder. The flame would be a better idea to use on your wound but the wick was short and it was their only sauce of light, if your blood got on the wick it would put the flame out, and they would be screwed. Emma runs over and grabs the blanket in the corner, it was thin and short, it would be batter as a pillow cover than a blanket but it'll have to do. Rushing over to you, Bubblegum gets to work, stuffing the blanket into your shoulder wound that Gig lets go of once he's told too. It hurt seeing you not move in any way, normally people would flinch or groan in pain but you were silent and unmoving while the blanket is stuffed into your shoulder, just like they though the blanket didn't do much to stop the bleeding which is why the candle came in handy. The others watch as Bubblegum lets the melted wax land on your shoulder wound coating the blanket and stopping the blood from seeping through, it will hopefully cause enough pressure to build stopping the bleeding all together but it'll take a bit of time. "What about her head?" Gig asks as he watches your shoulder stop leaking blood but your head was still bleeding, Bubblegum puts what's left of the candle down and starts looking through your blood soaked hair seeing a thick cut going from your forehead to the middle of your head, what ever hit you split the skin and may have busted your skull.

He thinks for a second before pulling his shirt off and ripping it to wrap around your head hoping it will stop the bleeding, he didn't want to put wax on the wound if there was a chance it might touch your brain. "I-i don't know, this will have to do for now" He sighs but Boogie leans over bumping the mans shoulder with a small smile "You did great for not being a doctor" The two let out a small laugh trying to cheer themselves up in this awful situation. "I'll take a look at the rest of you now, ok?" Bubblegum asks looking over his bruised and cut up friends who nod at him letting him do what he needs to, Boogie and Gig end up having to take their shirts off ripping them apart to help stop some bleeding, once done the four take a breather and relax for a bit, there was worry in the air but all of them had faith that their crew would come for them. "Where do you think their taking us?" Emma asks as she looks out the bars of the cell and into the dark hallway trying to make out what's around them, Gig shrugs as Boogie sighs "I don't know but i don't think it matters" The three raise an eyebrow at their crew mate wondering what thats supposed to mean, Boogie lets out a small laugh while leaning his head back against the wall "The captain as Y/N Vivre card, so they'll find us" The others relax knowing he's right, their captain will find them and get them out of here.

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