#grace talking to her baby bump is something that can be so personal

[capslocked]

PARITY

male reader x sana & miyeon

21k words

Within some reasonable tolerance, the two are carbon copies. Six of one, half a dozen of the other.

Doppelganger, twin, deadringer - they always tell you, they don’t see it.

But when they stand together it always comes across like two shadows stitched into one silhouette; the slope of their noses, their mouths; the way their hair cascades down past their shoulders.

You’ve learned to recognize the twitch at the corner of their lips before a laugh - how they speak in the same inflection and pitch and tempo, the same cadence coloring all their syllables. Even in their figures there is something uncannily familiar: that petite stature, that grace; they both have perfect posture, an ingrained elegance, like something handed down generation to generation. And of course - the height. The hair. The eyes. The same-damned-smirk.

Here's a hypothetical: if Sana's DNA, then Miyeon's RNA. They're both two separate ways of reading the same thing, and they both have it in them to transcribe the same hot load of proteins over all their pretty faces.

"Oh, that's like a sex joke," Miyeon says to Sana, frowning slightly, "right?"

"I don't know." Sana hums. "Protein... like sperm?"

You sigh, rub your thumb at your temple. This is why, normally, you wouldn't take ditzy to bed, but there's all this history between you and Sana that proves otherwise. The dirty truth is: you’ve been taking ditzy to bed for years. And Miyeon’s right there. She’s all bright eyes, blonde hair, tiny little waist, the perfect height to get two fingers in her cunt and the rest of her in your lap without you even needing to shift your arm into something more uncomfortable. God forbid.

She pulls back the curtain of silk-glossed-hair spilling over her cheek and tucks it neatly behind her ear. Okay, fine. So maybe you really do have a type.

"Yeah," Miyeon decides. "I think that's a good pun. Cute."

She glances sideways at Sana; something flashes between them, imperceptible. They've been doing this sorta thing for a long time - long before they ended up in their current living arrangement. This machine of synchronized, unvoiced communication.

"Cute," echoes Sana, delighted, and she lets her eyes flick back to yours. "Baby, are you, like, gonna give us lots of protein?"

"First of all, we’re fast approaching the point of diminishing returns on the whole protein spermaestria," you muse, wryly. Sana beams. "And again, the point I’m trying to make, Sana: you two are identical."

"Not in spirit," says Miyeon, automatically. "Or intellect. Or appearance, either."

"You can't just claim that," says Sana, matter of fact. "He means physically. I have bigger tits and a better ass.”

There's no argument from your end. And not only because the cab driver hits a speed bump or a pothole or perhaps a small child way too quickly that sends you all lurching together into the seatbelts.

Miyeon finds a good hold in the handle over the door - it saves her - and you wind up steadying Sana. For a split second, it's both their shoulders leaning on yours: Sana, then Miyeon, then Sana. Back and forth. Back and forth. The three of you still end up sprawled halfway out of the seats and onto each other in the cramped cab, tangled all together.

"Please, explain it then," implores Sana, hushed slightly. "Go ahead, I'm sure Miyeon's dying to hear it."

"Look, it's not a perfect one to one mapping," you say, running your hand through your hair and putting on your patient professor-in-front-of-the-class face. "For example: Miyeon's cuter-"

"Thank you," chirps Miyeon, sweetly sardonic, before you can even append anything else to the statement. Sana’s already there with a noise of mild protest.

"I mean, I'm a full inch and a half taller than you."

"So?"

"That’s an unfair advantage. You've gotta be the dumbest person I know."

"Funny," chides Miyeon, swiveling her gaze onto Sana. "You could barely talk when we were fucking your brains out on your birthday. He's dating you, not me, remember? If anything, you're the one sporting an unfair advantage."

"Okay, well," Sana counters, reasonably, "when you can barely get a sentence out from choking on my boyfriend's cock, who the hell is supposed to call it?"

You ignore that. Miyeon is having more difficulty; her face has flushed cherry red and her hand's white-knuckle-gripping the side of the cab's passenger door. 

"For what it’s worth," you cut in, placidly, "I don’t think there’s any clear answer."

"Nonsense," they both reply, simultaneously and satisfied - like wind up toys. And that's the way the conversation tends to go when you get them alone like this. Identical, you pause to think again after spilling out from the back of the car and onto the curb outside the girls’ apartment.

All the things they say are word-for-word - they walk the same, eat the same, smile the same, tilt their heads the same. In those moments where you don't speak, it feels like watching some two-headed monster, an entity constructed from equal parts of both. And it isn't just the physicality at play. They've got that eerie ability to read each other, speak for each other. It's strange: their habits, the way their eyebrows arch, the set of their shoulders. It all syncs right up, matches seamlessly.

It's really fucking uncanny.

"Um." Sana twists one slim wrist back and forth until the key turns in the lock. "So, is it, like, wrong of me that I kinda just wanna skip the dinner part of this and watch my roommate get wrecked in the middle of our living room?"

"Depends," you answer, before you can let yourself dwell too much.

“Just a complete and utter carpet dive,” Sana says, shouldering the door open and flipping on the lights. “It’d serve her right. She’s being annoying.”

Miyeon scoffs, sticks out a bare, pale leg - it ends in a nail polished fire engine red, the strap of a stiletto sandal - and blocks your way inside. "Hey," she protests, lightly. You are not the only object in the equation - you are merely an item to be held against them; it's not about you, not in its most abstract shape. Miyeon and Sana are competing - vaguely for your affection, but more so just for affection in general. It's an ego thing, if nothing else.

"I'm an angel. I'm precious."

"Get your pretty feet out of his face," warns Sana.

"Ugh," says Miyeon. And then, "so short-tempered when you're not getting away with everything."

"Whatever, princess." Sana gestures, airy and flippant. "In any case: fuck off, or go get fucked."

This has become some kind of weird custom, admittedly. Miyeon does exactly as her best friend requests. She floats down the hallway and toward her room.

"Can't get good service around here anymore anyway," is what she tosses over her shoulder. Her fingers run up the door frame to her room and hang there, briefly, before she glances sideways back. You and Sana, now giving her your deservedly undivided attention. There is no split focus, no point of overlap. Her hair falls loose past her shoulders; her shirt clings a little to the muscles of her arms, her ribs. The point of contact between her skirt and her upper thighs. Those impossibly big eyes. She's gorgeous. You rarely ever let yourself forget that. There's something devastating about the set of her face, about how her body is absolutely fucking perfect, all curving lines and smooth planes - tits that fit right in your palm, the dip of her stomach, the pretty shape of her ass - she’s tiny, and in a way, that means you can do anything to her and manage to get away with it. She’ll let you. She’ll ask you to do it all again. 

"You two are more than welcome to follow along, if you feel so inclined,” Miyeon adds before she opens the door to her room, steps through, and lets it shut behind her.

"Yeah." Sana runs her tongue over her top lip, staring you straight in the eye. Her smile is slightly predatory, all sharp teeth. "If you’re so inclined."

-

(For anyone wondering about things like premise or backstory, here’s a useful memory:

Sana has a new roommate. They've been living together for two, three months. She's still not over the fact you didn’t ask her to move in, and you're still not ready for it. Your answer hasn’t changed. You like your apartment the way it is; the two of you need space; it's what the kids call cohabital parity and no, the ring's not in your wallet and it's not even bought yet; stop nagging me. It'll happen when it happens. 

Anyway,

It's one of those plainly beautiful evenings in early July or August - a weekend probably: the living room is bathed in the sort of low, radiant sunset that can go on forever, all of summer stretched out, leisure and sunshine. Sana had talked her way into getting you to take her somewhere highbrow and a little out of your budget. She can talk her way into just about anything; that's her brand, her bad habit, her good fortune.

"We're not going to be able to get our tickets," you're explaining into the loud blare of a hair dryer. And to paraphrase, "what the fuck is the point of making reservations if we’re going to be so reprehensively late?"

Sana's juggling the curling iron while fumbling with an eyelash curler and applying mascara and rearranging earrings all at the same time, and you think about reminding her, again, that it doesn't matter what she looks like if you never actually, you know, leave - but then the hair dryer switches off.

“Hey.” Sana ignores the concern and swivels to ask which earrings match which necklace - two pairs are laid across the countertop; they look exactly the same; you love her, desperately, but for the record, you've never been any good at telling jewelry apart. Neither the knowledge-set nor the motivation; she looks fucking gorgeous in everything regardless-

The front door clicks then, and Miyeon bursts through with the force of an entire hurricane - and promptly stops, dead. You forget what the hell she said, but the story was: she'd just gotten back from the worst date in her life. She's in tears, sobbing. It's a mess. She's a mess. You can't leave.

She falls right into Sana's arms. Then Sana throws a pointed, triumphant grin your way, and says to Miyeon - and you remember this, word for word, verbatim - "Aw, baby. Don't worry. Let us take care of you. We'll make you forget all about him, okay?"

This is the long and short of it: Miyeon arrives, in tears. You never make it to dinner and a show. And the night ends more or less how it started - with Miyeon still pretty much crying, but only because you two won't stop. With your fingers, your mouths. Sana knows what her tongue's doing; Miyeon is loud - and responsive. She's gorgeous too. She's so into it. She needs someone who is genuinely in love with her, who isn't going to try and push her around. You slip your cock into her and that's pretty much it, a different kind of curtain call; Miyeon gets Sana's thumb rolling at her clit and, yeah - she's fucking gone. She cums on your cock like she’s dying, like you’re killing her. It's as simple as that.

Now, there are several instances of which this is the case, in chronological order:

a.) The first time, in Sana's bed.

b.) The second time is in the back of Miyeon's hatchback. Tight fit for three people. It's a do-not-recommend.

c.) The third time, when they want to try blindfolding Miyeon while she rides your cock in the living room. The girl can't see shit, you break some IKEA furniture you can’t pronounce the name of, and the condom comes off during the whole process. There’s this unsettling, world-rocking possibility in which you get Miyeon fucking legitimately pregnant via oopsie-daisy. So, you and Sana wind up spooned up with Miyeon between you two and discuss the eventuality, should it arise - what you will all do in the future, the consequences, what Miyeon and Sana will say to Miyeon's and Sana's families - what the fuck you'll tell the rest of your friends, let alone the press - and then, deciding together: hey, well maybe this is actually a really bad idea.

d.) The fourth, fifth, sixth and every time after that where you realize that you're just gonna roll it all back and pretend like this is completely normal. Two's company, three's kind of a fever dream - but this is the platonic ideal of groupthink. It works. It just does; you know how to fit the pieces together now. How to read her body language: the one-two-one rhythm, Sana and Miyeon and then Miyeon-and-Sana; where their hands are, where they're moving; Miyeon's choked little sobs and the breathless gasps when your cock is deep inside her; all the unintelligible murmurs passing between the two of them that you can't understand - but none of them ever really matter. The important thing is that she's put her two front teeth in your left collarbone while you fuck into her slow and deliberate, in a way she can really feel. You cover Sana's mouth with your palm, your fingers pressed against the pulsing heat in her pussy, and you make them both cum over and over until they’re eyes are screwed shut and they’re counting stars.

That's about it. That's all the things.)

-

"I call it being spoiled for choice," Sana says, pausing only momentarily to decide in the mirror of Miyeon's makeup vanity whether or not to take off the bracelet on her wrist. 

The glint that strikes off the metal is gold in the bedroom lights, all warm yellow and sparkling silver. Sana narrows her fingers, pulls it off, on - like you've caught her trying on clothes, the latest fashion in a store front window. A stylistic consideration. It matches the rings on her third and fourth fingers. She decides that it suits her. 

"Lo and behold," Sana continues, "we have a real situation on our hands. In your hands. Whatever, you get my drift."

"Your cock," adds Miyeon, smiling like sunshine. She’s tracing you over your pants with her thumb, and she’s got her doe-eyed grin on, the one that promises something sugar-sweet, kneeling between your thighs at the edge of her bed - the slightest dishevel of her hair, kiss-swollen lips. God, what a picture. Her pupils flare when her fingers reach the top button of your pants. "And what's worse? I'm going to die if I can't have at least, you know. A couple minutes alone with it."

"You'd figure out a way to die either way," Sana muses. She leans backwards in Miyeon's desk chair, tugging idly at the hem of her skirt.

They're not usually dressed alike, and that's the weirdest part - Sana's never had Miyeon's particular taste for the tiny gauche dresses and white converse shoes and glossy nails, not unless it’s some matching outfit that she's being bullied into. Today's no different: the soft fabric of Miyeon's slip of dress barely stretches down to the line of her thigh. The hem starts just below the boundary of innocuous and everything else. She’d been hiking it up all evening. And the straps lay so thin across her shoulders that one little tug in the wrong spot would probably send it skidding all the way down to the floor.

That's the main thing on your mind when you get one in between your fingers.

Miyeon simply shoulders the other, rolling it down to hang loose, leaving the dress hanging off the gentle slope of her chest.

"Pretty," you say out loud.

"I know," she says, holding the grin.

She can make the world smile, it's infectious - and your gaze follows the path: from the blonde-shiny hair spilling over a collarbone, to the peeking line of her bra, to the flutter of the bottom of her dress at her hip. You catch the subtle lace trim, the little patterns embroidered into the waist, and decide her body's a gift - and wrapping it is something divine, something meant to be ripped right to shreds. If no one else is willing to volunteer, then it'll fall on you. Sure, sure, sure. You can be thanked later.

"Lose it," you request, quietly.

"Mr. Impatient," is what Sana sniffs out, scoffing. She's lounged back on the other side of Miyeon's makeup counter. Her heel taps away at empty air, bouncing off the end of her foot, that hot little fucking rhythm she's had going since her partner in crime got in your lap and kissed you right down into oblivion. "You want to get her naked and get inside of her, huh?"

"Is that not why you dragged me here?" you counter.

"Oh, don't put this on me." Her expression slides right into the mischievous smirk you're familiar with. Miyeon’s often sporting the same one.

"He wants to bend you over, princess," she tells Miyeon, and you hear the wistful sigh through her parted lips come out like permission. "Not that I can say I'd blame him. When's the last time you've taken cock again?"

"With him last week." She throws the response to Sana. They look, more than anyone, to be in sync in their one-upmanship.

"Hmm," says Sana, and she’s looking right at you. "Check how tight that dress fits over her hips, don't you just want to tear it right off of her?"

"He's not doing that," says Miyeon, but there's the lilting tease in her voice that signals precisely the opposite. She wants it: wants it like sugar and soda, salt water taffy; wants to be stripped like skin, bared to the bone. Her knees spread, just a little. "Not yet, anyway. Right now," she adds, hand fluttering towards the inside of her thigh, supplying touches right over the lace, "I want to suck his cock."

"Such a slut," Sana teases, tilting her head.

"You'll get yours," Miyeon insists, before pulling your cock out of your boxers with a small smile, curling her fingers around it, leaning forward. "God, this thing." She has the head under the palm of her other hand, and a wet-tipped promise on her lower lip.

You thread your hand into the hair aside Miyeon's temple, gentle and what will seem in a moment: paradoxically-tender. 

"Imagine what it'll do to your mascara when I fuck your mouth."

Miyeon licks her lips. You reckon she’s completely aware how it comes across - the wicked fantasy she is.

"I'm imagining what it'll do to you when she chokes," Sana retorts. 

“When he fills up my throat,” Miyeon says, hungry.

Sana sighs, sounding utterly wistful, and she fixes the same unrepentant look on you. "Poor Miyeon is just starved for cum tonight. Aww," she remarks, sweetly, "The poor thing. Do me a favor won't you? Fuck my pretty little friend in the face."

"Well," is all you get out before you look up at Sana. "Yours too, honey."

"Hardly, the same," Miyeon cuts in primly, glancing sideways at Sana. There is some snobbishness implied; there are ways Sana and Miyeon have always found to subtly measure themselves against one another, to best each other - all of these ridiculous acts and anecdotes. Like their voices aren’t replicas of one another - and in constant disagreement over whoever is currently claiming to be the original.

Miyeon prissily tilts her jaw up. "Your ego might actually be the worst part about you, Sana. That and your tits."

"Guess he just loves all the worst parts," Sana quips, rolling her eyes, "and every time you call it into question I fall in love with him a little more."

She's got one foot up now on the seat of the chair and she's running her fingers, delicate and teasing, around the press of her panties. It's not a voyeuristic thing, she's told you, it's less about watching Miyeon get fucked than it is about knowing exactly what it looks like when she herself gets spread out beneath you. She watches you and Miyeon, she watches her best friend and you, and she touches herself and it's perfect. There's a few seconds, long and warm, before she lifts her fingers away, then sucks them into her mouth with a grin. Just the slightest taste.

"But seriously," she says to Miyeon. "If you're gonna do something - then do it. Don't be a tease. We both know the answer, anyway."

Miyeon swallows. You hear her. You watch her lips wrap around the head of your cock and pop off, wet and shining, and her head rests in the curve of your palm.

"I’m working on it," Miyeon allows, lowly - she pumps her fist again around you, careful with the motion; this little twisting tug. "Fuck, it's not even the fact that it's fucking huge, or. Like, it’s not because I’m dying to get stuffed by this, or because I’m sitting here thinking: oh my fuck, I’m gonna feel so full with this thing inside me."

You have her hand under her chin, thumb stroking gently against her cheek. Her eyes return to yours when you put a little more pressure in your grip. She’s fantastically pretty, and the gleam of lust and want in her irises has you probably too eager to play along. 

“So then, what could it possibly be?”

"It's-" Her cheeks darken pink beneath her blush, stumbling through a mouthful of ums and uhs as her eyes make tiny departures back to your waist until she finally gives up and just stares again.

Sana sits up a little in her chair.

"Look, this is the prettiest cock I've ever seen.” 

You and Sana almost snort in unison.

“I’m serious.” Miyeon rubs a semi-circle over the head with her thumb, glancing up at you beneath her mascara, and then to the base, back up. It jerks, almost like reflex, in her grasp; she huffs in delight. "It’s, like, perfect in every way. And, god, everytime- I’d just about do anything to feel it inside me."

“You’d beg?” Sana asks, eyebrow raised.

“I’m about to get down on my knees and grovel, honey.”

"Should've just said," Sana laughs - Miyeon chews her lip, half-exasperated, and drops a kiss to the tip that makes Sana's expression simper - "you’re halfway there. Want him to cum in that sweet mouth?"

"Want him to tell me what he's going to do," says Miyeon, frilly. "Every last detail."

Lips stretching open, fingers splaying, curling around the weight - she dips her head to rest her cheek on your thigh and kisses the underside of your shaft. She’s practically like liquid. Flowing and easy and gorgeous, always gorgeous, too far gone to form a full thought. That much is obvious. And why shouldn't it be - your hand's already snagged up, your thumb's already wiping the hair out of her eyes. She turns to let it sit against the edge of her cheekbone. "You really need an incentive? Want you to fill me up so I can-"

"Swallow," you supply, simply. “Swallow everything.”

"Yeah," Miyeon presses into the curve of your cock. She doesn't wink, not really; she doesn’t need to. "I like you. You always know exactly what to say."

Her hair brushes a feather-light caress up the skin of your thigh, mouth a vision of sin and pretty red lipstick. "Open," you command, quietly, and she follows your orders exactly - mouth dropping, head tilting, eyes drifting closed - her lips glisten with saliva and you could shove your cock into that mouth, easy. Just push in and wreck the inside of her - spit on her chin, feel her throat clench up as she gags and struggles around your cock. God, if that isn't a thought that can do a number on the base of your spine.

"Easy," Sana supplies, like she can read your mind. That wouldn’t really surprise you. “Leave some of her make-up for me.”

There's the quick hiss of an inhale, Miyeon's mouth stretching open. Her jaw going slack. You feel the long, wet suck of skin and spit, and her eyelids flutter as she settles in. She slides her tongue and adjusts, makes soft, raspy, throaty noises while her lips slide down the first few inches of your cock. It’s funny - Sana had made the same sound earlier in the day - and it's really not like it's an awful comparison. They both let on gorgeous little noises when they're sucking cock and it makes sense because it's the same cock. Same skin. Same person.

You're not, however, about to do something so pedestrian as compare notes. Not on them. Not in the fucking slightest.

And Sana, god - Sana doesn't just watch. She knows better. She's not even the one taking your cock in her mouth but there's the insistent presence of her: a fingertip diving down past the crotch of her skirt, a quiet moan, her wrist jolting in a repetition of short, sharp strokes, the kind she likes to use on herself: precise. Deliberate.

"Miyeon," you whisper. "God, just - it's your fucking mouth, you-"

The hand on her face strokes the side of her head - a push-pull. A chance to break off - she doesn't - so she ends up with a rougher grip tangling through her hair and you guiding her head further down the length of your shaft.

Miyeon loves the pressure on her throat. You know that. And, yeah, she fucking hates choking on it but somehow in her mind, they're different. Opposites. Because with the way she's going, a little cough will burst free in a few seconds time. That’s your signal, you’ve learned, that she'll let you slide yourself to the hilt. Just keep the wet tip lodged there until she starts gasping around it. It'd only take a minute.

Two tops.

And well, that's the compromise: your patience for a throat fuck is infinite. She's staring up at you with upturned brows and that pretty-please pout on her slick-wet lips. She's making her best effort but, christ. Fuck.

Her eyelids flicker once.

Then close.

"There," you breathe down to her, your knuckles finding her cheek, smoothing over the sharp curve of bone there. Your cock is slotted right in her hot little mouth and you're starting to feel like maybe you really did hang the moon and stars in the sky after all. Her lips press around you. Sink, up, down. "Such a good girl, sucking my cock, looking up at me- god, all dolled up, it's not even fair, Miyeon."

Miyeon can be many things, and presently among them: a filthy, obedient angel.

She pulls up. "I try," Miyeon breathes right at the tip. Her tongue darts out. She swirls, and swirls, until it’s back under the tip of your cock again, soft.

You're too predictable, or you're too forthcoming, or here’s the thing about a woman's intuition; Miyeon wants to tell you something more, she wants to let you know how fucking unbelievably hard you are in her hands right now; she wants to laugh at you for getting caught up and dumb but she's not letting your cock slide free. This suckle of her lips, right at the crest where you're most sensitive and leaking precum right into her mouth - this press and pull is as close to conversation as she can get. So what. You love it. She loves it: the reward is in the ricochet. You look at her and her cheeks hollow and the flash of her pink tongue gets wet and warm under your head, the slit of her mouth stretching to take every ‘totally fucking perfect’ inch of your cock.

And then her lips tighten and she just-

"Christ, Miyeon-" You whimper it right down to her, your voice lost in the shiver of her throat, all tight and wet around your cock. It's like your vocal cords have been stolen right along with the air in your lungs and everything feels floaty, warped and red and blanketing you with Miyeon's hard-worked rhythm:

The scissoring flick of her tongue as she strokes the base with a firm fist. The other hand resting on your hip, feeling your hips jerk. She wants this, the part where you let go and stop thinking. The part where she opens her throat, lets her saliva flood to pool against her palm, and wet the tip of your cockhead before letting it slide right back in her throat. Your shaft flexing into her heat, the sound of those gags.

She just-

She just goes on like that, sucking your cock while the flat of her palm skates a little tighter. Up, up, down - up-

"Miyeon," Sana says, now on her feet and shadowing in closer, leaning. And that's it. Sana knows too. She kneels down next to her, gets a finger under her chin, and delivers in a uniquely cold tone: "hands behind your back, sweetheart. I want him to cum in your gorgeous little mouth."

You nearly choke, ironically. You're already grabbing so much of her hair: all those smooth silky strands threaded through your fingers.

You thrust and pull. She gags. She fucking chokes.

Spit collects, rolls down the corners of her mouth and gathers on her chin. You can see the mascara threaten to run tracks along her pretty cheeks, the way the makeup smudges so dangerously close to her bottom lid. "Yeah?" you say, so softly, but you can't - can't seem to look anywhere else, or take anything back - so, what, her jaw's just gonna go on being that perfect little shape, and she's gonna be a brat for it. Okay. That works. She looks good choking. You can see the slick glint of her pink mouth stretching taut on your cock, your cock jerking and bobbing on the pad of her tongue; it's not real - no, this is completely real. The ball of your foot slips along the floor.

It's instinct. You can't help yourself; a groan spills out of you, half-sighed

Sana's whispering right in her ear; not that you can make anything out of it over the noises from her mouth, her fist all wet, pumping. The tick-tock bob of her hair. Sana's hand is on the back of her head and then - pushing the last inch down, and down, her nose buries right into your skin.

“Mnnph.” Miyeon, gurgling: your cock pressed all the way down the line.

"Fuck," you spit, holding her jaw in place. "Fuck, Miyeon-"

She looks up at you, her eyebrows cinched, the graceful lines in her picture-perfect-face pulling around you - blissed out. She stutters in place while you dump a hot load of cum into her mouth.

And she adds a cough as you pump everything directly onto her fucking tongue. It’s more than she anticipated, judging by the leak. How your cum rolls down from the corner of her mouth.

Sana drops a kiss onto her temple as she takes you in and out of her mouth again, until she presses her lips firm and hollows her cheeks. Miyeon's fingers caress your balls like there's some part of you that isn't giving her fucking everything already.

"Come on, princess," says Sana, kissing her way along Miyeon's neck, the tops of her shoulders. There is not an angle to Miyeon's elegant features that she could take that could possibly be anything short of priceless. "Show him how you swallow."

The image is obscene, for one thing. The utter filth in that satiated hum; there’s another. 

It's your white-hot cum dribbling past her swollen, fucked mouth. Miyeon swallows like the good girl she is - takes a breath, stares, and then finishes, a gulp, an extra breath, her whole face now a shade more flushed. Sana kisses her on the cheek and suddenly it's perfect: they're both staring right at you. Your throat has to unclench, reboot and the air in the room just tastes so good and your chest is heaving; you just- fuck, you can't breathe-

"Shit," you exhale. It comes out like a small explosion. "Uh-"

The side of Sana's mouth slants and then Miyeon grins: it's her cheek, dimple; that crescent moon thing and oh, this is the point. Sana slides a hand over the gentle curve of her stomach, then sets her open mouth over Miyeon's still-lips, slipping in close and - kissing. Their mouths melt together like it's the most practiced thing, tongues a second later, and Sana is stroking your cock in her fingers; the expectations clear in every little coaxing flick of her slim wrist.

"Do you have any idea," Sana sighs against her lips. The two of them, blinking up at you, like good little things - sweet enough. "How fucking wet you both have me?"

And Miyeon, shameless as she is disastrously pretty, reads right between the lines. "Where do you want it?" Her mouth tilts up to the side. A wicked smile. "He can cum all over us, no? And I have this skirt with an awfully short, pretty lace. We don't even have to take our clothes off, really, I can just-"

Sana gets an eyeful - Miyeon - before cutting her off, silencing with the wet press of her mouth, and suddenly their kiss goes frantic and quick. They're rolling apart: hands tearing up their clothes. Off. Off. Off.

Your cock stirs. It throbs. Fuck. Sana’s barely intelligible in the space between their tongues. "I could lay flat,” she’s saying, “with my legs open, and-"

"-with him on top of you, pressing inside you - so he could hold me down, and then pull all the way back out, to leave a thick load on your clit-"

"-and when he has to pull out-"

"-probably cum all over you too, the best view-"

"-or all over the rest of me, while I touch myself-"

"-maybe-"

"-and you just have to imagine how good that'll feel, while my thighs shake and we ride it out, you and I-"

Their faces - both flushed and dampened with the strain, both breathtaking. Their eyes are hooded, lashes a-flutter. They'd made their own decision, didn't even bother with yours. A mutual vote of two-to-one: you're going to fuck them in turns. You’re going to fuck them together. You're going to edge yourself in one cunt and fill the other. They're both going to take it, and wear it, and then use each other to make you cum again. Good. Okay, any questions - and they want it rough? 

The answer’s a two-part chorus. Yes.

-

Not even an hour later, Miyeon is playing, of all fucking things, Candy Crush, legs draped lazily across Sana's lap, both of them kicked back on the couch, dressed again like the best girls you've ever seen. "The amount of money they make on this app-" Miyeon complains, waving a lazy hand. A long strand of blonde brushes against the corner of her mouth before she swipes it away again with an irritated sigh. She's just sitting there, knees folded, blithely bitching about a game of match three on her phone. "And they send these fucking blocks just to mess with me," - another swipe. Her hair sticks against the fresh gloss coating her lips. "It's literally just a waste of human-fucking-potential."

"It's a game for children," you offer.

"Then why is it marketed at adults, hm?" She's absolutely serious. "Sana plays it too."

"Mhmm," Sana agrees, not really agreeing at all. Her eyes are closed; you're sitting next to her, and she's taken up your leg as a makeshift pillow, lying down with her arm resting on her forehead, so casually disinterested in anything other than the quiet thrumming of your presence by her side.

It's insane that they're like this: like they're not constantly checking their phones for texts, like you don't all have lives. You're almost - dare you think - having a semi-regular conversation. Now If for a moment you could ignore how they both look like the human embodiment of sin-

"Miyeonie," Sana says.

"Sana," Miyeon returns, flat.

There's not even a movie playing on the living room TV - just the netflix menu; it's volume is at a sort of white noise. A subtle buzz clicks on in the air conditioner.

"You know how you're supposed to go out with that guy next weekend."

"You mean the date you set me up with." Miyeon pauses, tongue caught between her teeth. "Where I have to put on a pretty little dress. And smile. And laugh at all his jokes."

"You know the one."

Miyeon jumps on Sana's train of thought. "You want me to send you some pictures when it's over."

Sana turns it over in her head a few times. “Maybe,” she says, finally.

A genuine exchange perhaps. No fighting, no bullshit, no riptide of pure unbridled sexual frustration.

"Or," Sana adds, simply, "you skip the part where you sabotage the small talk and come back to our apartment." She blinks. "End up getting us both."

“You’re suggesting I’ve been ruining dates on purpose?” Miyeon, incredulous, runs her fingers through the hair at the top of her head, gentle, almost like an admission of guilt. "You're out of your mind. Why would I do that?"

The fragile peace never does last long. Sana looks at you again. Holds onto the eye roll. "Why, indeed."

"I don't follow," Miyeon says; something, a tic, a tell, causes the muscle in her brow to stutter.

"She's suggesting that you'd rather be in bed between us than on a date with some guy whose face we've only seen once," you cut in. Sana looks over. "It's come up a few times."

"Okay, so what?" Miyeon takes a breath. Her mouth a rictus twist. "You're trying to get me to admit it out loud? That I like to get fucked by my gorgeous bestfriend and her pinterest-board-of-a-boyfriend more than I'd like going to a mediocre concert downtown with some dipshit who just wants to see if I'll stick out this 'goddess' routine for a month or two and then bounce for someone else. Wow. Sherlock and Watson, coming through for the killshot. Take me straight to jail."

"We never got around to those cuffs," is what you make mention of. It's not particularly helpful.

"Don't pretend," Sana says instead, "you don’t like to play both sides. Or that the trad-wife fantasy of yours is somehow subtle."

“There's nothing shameful about knowing exactly who you are, or wanting something," Miyeon insists. She tilts her head towards the two of you. A different angle. Her words come out sharp and hot: "some of us have the decency to let our friends know exactly what they want."

“Okay.” You laugh out loud, half out of nervous habit. "Well obviously there’s some sort of rhythm here - I’m just not dumb enough to think I can put a finger on the pulse."

"Then this is, what, some sort of elaborate plot for my heart?" Miyeon's chuckling to herself, but in the space of a blink her voice is more tender. Her arms folding in close. "Is that the plan, finally catching me-"

"Next week." Sana sits up. "There's a trip coming up, something kind of international." She picks at the hem of her sweater, and looks at you.

“What the hell, exactly” - you card your hand through Sana’s hair - “does ‘kind of’ international entail?”

"Ms. Prada has a modeling campaign to attend," Miyeon intones. "She also needs someone to take care of the jetlag, is what I assume this is about."

Sana waves her hand in the air. "I'm saying we book you an extra ticket. Rent a room at a nice hotel. No work. No phones. Just us three, and the best sex you've ever had."

“I wasn’t even aware I was going to that,” you say - almost as an aside.

“You weren’t.” Sana leans more of herself into you. "You are now."

"Is this how you're going to woo me? The grand design?" Miyeon's hands are fiddling in her lap. Sana’s pressing in. Closer. "All the sex and leisure I could ever ask for?"

“It sounds ridiculous when you say out loud,” Sana answers, curling into her. “But, yeah, that’s pretty much it.”

Miyeon laughs like it’s a lost cause. Genuine, throaty - like music.

“Simplicity doesn’t have to be a bad thing, Miyeon.” Sana kisses her, slow. Quietly, "you could even pack a swimsuit," and there's this beat, the rise and fall of Miyeon's breathing that might lead anywhere: "though I doubt we touch the beach at all."

“You’re pulling on all my heartstrings, Sana.”

And there you are - etching your names onto the calendar. Reservations and bookings and promises of everything and anything and exactly where you all want to be.

It's Miyeon that finally admits, "you know part of me can’t resist the idea."

"Then, this weekend." Sana's fingertips trace circles on your hip, the tensing pull of muscle. You're aching and exhausted and content: drifting in the tide, a catch of the day, some soft, dreamy wave of consciousness, nothing specific, just the moment passing through all three of you.

But you do get it. There's this obvious snag in your heartbeat, too.

Because Sana is grinning; her fingertips, tapping. Your stomach's fluttering too. A little ghostly clutch of hope in your chest and it's such an embarrassing notion. You're getting swept away - pulled under - and it's Miyeon, splaying out beside Sana, her hand reaching out to you with her palm turned up. It's a promise, and the force of her can - and has - moved mountains.

"I pick the hotel," Miyeon's voice is deeply firm and sure. She’s got a fistful of Sana’s pajamas. "You two can sort out the lingerie."

Sana's mouth curves a perfect grin. She's kissing her again: wet. Heavy. It's not a no, if she was ever expecting one.

-

So that's your reality: what used to be two dalliances - separate but not distinct - now share one headspace, and there's enough rapport just in the group chat alone. You've all been messaging back-and-forth for weeks; Miyeon playing the game where she's the steady one in your life, the knot you're going to tie down when you can finally afford it (and in every way she can imagine). You find it entertaining. Sana seems mildly amused. And Miyeon will call you on the phone, sometimes. A chat-off. About nothing and everything. What you should bring on the trip. Where she's going to eat dinner before you meet her at the airport. Et cetera. Et cetera.

// Miyeon 1:21 AM > hey. I'm all finished packing. how's the bedroom looking?

// 1:26 AM > absolutely wrecked. no survivors

// Sana 1:27 AM > It’s fine. We stripped the sheets, got the box from the closet. Have the video you wanted as well. Call the laundry service in the morning and get the floor washed too. You know. So, nothing comes out of the security deposit.

// Miyeon 1:29 AM > a threesome that destroyed an apartment? say it isn't so

// Sana 1:34 AM > didn't hear you complain during.

// 1:38 AM > strict instructions, right?

And then sometimes, during those conversations, Miyeon will send an aside just for you:

// Miyeon 1:40 AM > strict? please. do whatever. I'm like so good at following instructions

That's Miyeon. The paradox of being submissive - you never, ever treat her gently. She never really wants you to. Sana's mid-reach over your chest to turn off the lights when she glances down at Miyeon's text, then promptly scoffs. The two of them don't always have the most conventional dialogue.

"She's one hundred percent serious by the way." Sana rolls on her side, away, but the nightlight beside the bed just manages to illuminate the slope of her ass - curved in the silk nightie she'd thrown on before bed. You want to crawl between the fabric.

"I never really doubted that. She's got a very specific... demeanor.”

“You’ve noticed.”

“Um,” you say. Sana’s turned over her shoulder to blink at you. “Kind of a dark streak. Like something in her is craving-"

"To be broken to pieces? Oh, it's fucking bliss for her when she's vulnerable and the tension cracks." 

“I was going to phrase it a little more indirectly than that, but yes, I suppose that’s the gist of it.”

Sana shrugs. 

"The girl lives to be chased is what it is.

It's just Sana and her perfect legs and smooth, creamy thighs right there, ready for you to touch, ready for you to fall apart over. They brush your calf, your thigh - so you are kind of distracted. 

“And she feels most wanted when she's choking, getting used, right at the point she can't decide if another inch is gonna kill her or drive her up the wall. No air in her lungs, nothing under her own control." Sana flops, presses against your side, one leg tossed on top, arms curled around your neck. "Pretty obvious, all things considered."

"Sounds a bit familiar, no?" you tease, and reach back to draw her against the front of your body. 

She curves, twists into your embrace. Her hair is half up, half down - wide eyed like a fantasy made manifest. You're always gonna give in, even when Sana doesn't deserve it. 

"You get me. It’s the best. Please, go nuts with the idea."

“Huh, birds of a feather.”

“Sure, whatever,” Sana brushes a kiss against your cheek, presses back into your hips to feel your hard length strain between your boxers and her ass, softening only because, god, she's a real human fucking treasure, "so maybe Miyeon and I have a certain… similar temperment to us, maybe that's true."

"Yeah," you breathe. Your arms wrap around her, the heat in her core now evident from the outside. "That's what I've been saying."

Sana doesn't respond to that, not directly; her palms drag, smooth, over your fingers. "Fuck me to sleep," she suggests instead. "We've got an early flight."

And so you do. You'd pulled your cock from your shorts the second she pressed her ass into your waist and claimed her place as your other half, the little spoon. There's a few beats, a few breaths, where you'd rocked against her clumsily, lining yourself up, and she'd braced the two of you:

She'd arched her back, got an arm over her head to tangle a hand into your hair and keep you right where you were - your lips against her neck. Until it's just this soft-rhythm, all easy thrusts; one arm underneath her, the other around her hip, finding and spreading and - easily - gliding into her cunt.

Sana sighs a lovely sound right next to your ear: your name, some hushed curse. Her hand is wrenched back into whatever group of muscles she can find. And you listen to the gorgeous little tritone of oh shit, oh god, oh fuck when you make her cum. The displays of indulgent affection in her throat, then the ruddy mess of you working her to a wreck of pleasured exhaustion until she collapses into a hot-faced, sleepy daze. All cozy between the sheets, the duvet - you’d fucked her from the outside in; made her relieved and relaxed, all loose and calm. Sana curls into you with her moans still staining the cool side of her pillow and the snugness of her cunt wrapped around your cock.

You drift off just like that, snug inside her. Sana is, as always, impossibly warm.

-

On your phone, there are some choice text messages:

// Miyeon 2:18 AM > jesus

// Miyeon 2:18 AM > can you guys like please

// Miyeon 2:18 AM > PLEASE

// Miyeon 2:18 AM > fuck any quieter

Okay, so it's not perfect. But you're about ninety-percent sure Miyeon had used every fiber of her willpower not to float across the hall and take her spot between the both of you. And it's probably for the best. You feel pretty rough when the alarm starts blaring as it is.

-

The room Miyeon picks out isn’t exactly small, nor was she minding the purse strings. There's a wide expanse of living area, a massive bed in the back; the ensuite and bath beyond that has a walk-in shower large enough for all three of you and room left over. On the walls is gentrification-colored paint, a gray laminate flooring to match; there is not one speck of dust. It feels every bit the palace it is on the outside - the gables and mansard roofs and the Juliette balconies - gothic, or neoclassical. Something vaguely European, with all its rich furnishings and pristine fixtures to boot.

Sana and Miyeon step into the space with all the familiarity of royalty.

"Warm in here," says Sana, appraising; her black chiffon, nearly translucent, fans about her hips with each tiny sway. In her white pumps, she's already a perfect tease and she hasn't even touched herself yet. "Smells good, though."

Miyeon's heels echo behind her like gunshots against the floor, and it's really not ever fair the way a skirt wears her. "The listing said something about a hospitality kit, and essential oils - there should be a basket of things. Do you want me to start the water?"

"Let's settle in a little first," Sana suggests, and without any fanfare, the first thing she does is draw the gauzy curtain closed.

There's an itinerary; it's an ongoing event. Technically it all started in the airport terminal when Sana slung her arm around Miyeon's waist and her hand went straight down to her ass. She just gave it a little squeeze. In the moment, nothing terribly remarkable, but then again, Miyeon didn't tell her not to. They walked through security like that and picked out drinks together from a terminal cafe before doing a circuit, fingers linked. The way Sana looks at her now - Miyeon sees - is how she's always looked at her. That is maybe, the whole point.

"Come here."

Sana's tone is smooth as silk, her mouth an inviting pucker, gloss-dewy and delicious. The bow is even tied at the back: Sana's collar is fitted snug. It sits tight at the base of her neck with the silvery cord loose across her shoulder, knotted down near the apex of her spine. It's simple, classic. All soft fabric and no frill, with an absence that invites eyes and wandering fingertips: she hasn't worn a bra. No strap lines. Her body has the sweetest outline and the warmest curves and god, the skin she's not showing is as good as what she is.

"So," you say out loud. It hits you: there's no cameras, no urgency. No obligations. "We came all the way here just so Sana could have sex, huh."

It's really always about the two of them.

"Good sex," Sana corrects. The table next to her catches the flat of her palm as she settles herself against the surface, one leg crossing in front. The slit in her dress rises in the movement: enough of a hint at the soft thigh underneath. You see her do this every once in a while and her body doesn't lie; this is an implicit act of seduction. But when she looks back up, her smile goes shy and her voice follows suit: "I promised our princess that we'd spoil her a little."

You say, "she's right there," at the same time Sana adds- "which is kind of impossible when she's still wearing her clothes."

Miyeon makes a big, showy production of crossing her arms in a huff. You could do anything; flip a switch; knock her flat against the wall, and Sana would hold her down with a hand at her throat and a kiss her like fire and gasoline on her tongue and no one would have a single word to say to complain.

You could have. Would have. But Miyeon finds her fingertips on the ridge of her clavicle, the barest swipe. She pulls at the top button of her shirt and the seam unlatches: a single reveal, a gradual, fluid movement in the dip and fall of a one inch gap. Just enough skin to make you and Sana swallow.

"Oh?" Miyeon grins. She stares at you with that coy smirk, biting her lip; an invitation for a kiss. For a fuck. You cross the gap, with every intention of making good on it; only, Sana slips in behind her - stops her midway in undoing the next button - and places a hand on the nape of Miyeon's neck, cool.

"She really can be a brat, can't she."

"Only because she gets rewarded for it," you admit, and as soon as Sana touches her, Miyeon is looking up with that same face she gives you when she gets on her knees, ready to be just your little pet, your desperate, whimpering thing.

Sana leans into her ear: "maybe because she knows she can't stop thinking about you bending her over, every chance she gets. Isn’t that right, pretty girl?"

They've always been like this, you think. Growing up with money and cars and ski vacations in the Alps: that sort of thing. It's been a long, slow, build-up and this was always the payoff. It is, without a doubt, just the slightest taste of luxury. Sana pushes, and Miyeon turns up to her mouth with a slow, dangerous whisper. "Isn't it kinder to say it as it is, instead of dancing around it for weeks-"

"For months," corrects Sana, and then sliding into a far more generous tone, "mouths, fingers- or his cock?"

"Maybe," Miyeon lifts her chin like she's readying to kiss, "all three."

Her voice drips - purses her lips, and you're there again: at that fateful exchange. Everything about Miyeon has the power to sink its claws deep. Those heels on her dainty little feet, the stockings climbing along her thighs. Everything.

"Miyeon." That comes out harsher than you'd have thought.

"What can I say? I'm not a patient person." She's got that wild, starry-eyed look to her. You could tame her. You could dominate her - your throat is so dry. The room has the faint scent of citrus, like lemon rind and verbena - a kind of lightheadedness settling over you all. "So, why don't you..." She's blushing, holding her arm up as she skims a finger down this slow path along your torso, finally hooking it into the top of your pants. And now, it's very, very clear she isn't wearing a bra either. "Make things a bit easier."

There's an entire lexicon of everything you'd like to do, so it's best, maybe, that you settle for: "Sana, be a doll."

"Anything," she says; she doesn't hesitate. You like the easy give.

And it's kind of amazing. All three of you together and, sure, the way her fingertips tighten, sliding under the curve of Miyeon's chin and then pulling the linen shirt down from the backs of her shoulders - this is a choice you can all agree on. One that pulls on the elastic band hugging the cut of Miyeon's waist, makes the material drag and ride up the front of her legs. Her belly. Sana has the gift of being able to kiss so perfectly on the back of someone's neck that you could easily forget she can get a little mean, too.

"What is it, baby." Sana asks; a challenge, not a question. "Come on, love. You know it's true. Why don't you let me show him how sweetly you moan with just a pair of fingers in your cunt."

"Please do."

"You're practically wet just saying it. You want it that much." Her voice goes thin, then deep again: a stark contrast. "Show him the mess you've made."

Miyeon's hand is in all the way in your pants; you feel hot. Like the room's air conditioning should've kicked on a lifetime ago - you're trying not to think too much on the way her slender fingers start to wrap themselves around the shape of your cock and your mouth falls open, because she can just - fuck - do that-

They turn to each other like mirror images over the slope of Miyeon’s shoulder, exchanging some secretive wordlessness in the privacy of their smiles and soft, muted laughter. Miyeon's on the toes of those pretty pumps to lean in, closer, further, and Sana lets her.

Which is exactly how it happens: Miyeon kissing you. And she really kisses you, sweet, delicate - and somehow all-consuming. It sets off this chain reaction, a wildfire of unbridled desire: that thread in Sana that can be almost violent, and one that Miyeon always manages to bring to the surface of her skin. Because now Miyeon's gripped and pinned, and Sana, bless her, pulls the fabric of her own dress up over her head until she's naked alongside her. Working towards a common goal. Here's two hands. Here's two more. They're helping you out of your shirt. It's pretty easy from there. You're all unraveling together, just falling apart - Sana and you, working in tandem to unclasp the pearl snap buttons trailing up and down the sides of Miyeon's sinfully short skirt, peeling back the cotton. Miyeon holds the swell of your cock tight in one hand, pumping, while Sana rakes her nails over Miyeon's breasts; both girls taking off the final scraps until every article of clothing is tossed to the floor.

And Miyeon here is simply unbelievable. Your hands are all over her. Her razor-fine waist, her thighs. Her lips. Those soft tits, and that cute mole above her nipple. Because even her imperfections deserve the same lavish attention.

You kiss her, and kiss her, and you can't help thinking how filthy it feels. This wet mouth and tongue, everything you could want in the slide of her mouth - just, messy-perfect and a bit sloppy; how her whimpers leak out in soft, a tight inhale. You cup the side of her jaw as your hips grind into her and a low, uneven sound escapes you. Sana's small fingers wrap her ribs to grip a breast, knead the supple curve and supply her thumb to the indent. It's really, so soft, and warm, and then wet: your precum dribbling over her knuckles, rolling down. Miyeon has her head tilted to let her jaw lean into your palm - she smiles, and laughs like it's nothing - like you're not there, towering over her lithe little frame. Like the head of your cock isn't brushing into her bottom rib under all the twists and jerks of her wrist.

"Your cock is so hard," Miyeon threads into a sigh, in that throaty, almost melodic voice. And then she laughs because she knows exactly what it’ll fucking do to her. "And fucking heavy. I thought I was going to get a real good look earlier in the airport," she confesses.

"Let me guess." Sana presses a kiss to her temple from behind; a lull in the scene. You fuck yourself gently into the curl of her fist. "You've been thinking about it this whole time. About getting him inside you. With that naughty little mind of yours running at a million miles an hour. God, that must've been such a tease, getting stuck with just the thought while we sat through lunch, and the flight-"

"Don’t forget right now-" Miyeon presses in. Her breath is hot against your neck. "While we're talking."

"Princess," Sana says into her ear, and it makes her tip her head - until she’s revealing the pale skin of her neck. God, yeah; maybe she really is nobility. "I'd be hard-pressed to leave you wanting. Your body's all wound up for us."

"She's fucking soaked," you confirm, like you aren't pointing out the most obvious thing in the room.

Miyeon bites her lip; you're gripping your shaft, urging her wrist to go faster. "This is the part where you turn me inside-out, no?" Miyeon is a walking fucking cliche and she knows it, smiling all slyly with her teeth. She says it so damn casually: "so why isn’t my pussy getting any attention, really. I wonder, I wonder-"

"Trust me, neither of us are interested in teasing," Sana assures her. "We're going to fuck you until you can't remember your own name. And then we'll fuck you some more."

You push down hard on her collarbone, and in that same instant Sana drops her free hand below and runs the flats of her fingertips along the plane of Miyeon’s tummy - until Miyeon tilts her hips - everything else still, almost lazy. Her feet leave the floor and then come back down again. The momentum of the fall ends up being enough to jostle the three of you towards the nearest wall where Sana's back is kissing the cold drywall. And you're already there - pressed into both: Miyeon's palms flat against your chest as you haul her thighs around your waist.

Hoisted, lifted, cradled between you and your girlfriend - who by the way is inching two fingertips under the top of a lacy-banded thong, slipping beneath the white trim, to finally (oh, god) pull her hand away and slip it into Miyeon's parted mouth. "Look at you." A hum in her chest. "The most beautiful, perfect-"

(You push your cock into her, and hand to god, you swear Miyeon's voice breaks like a bottle over pavement.)

"And all for us- your slutty little pussy is already so wet- Miyeonie, we've barely even started.”

Just think. The code word system you've been employing for months - "We were actually thinking... if you're not doing anything else... what's the harm in the two of us getting more familiar with you." - has proved exceptionally reliable in getting Miyeon out of her clothes and into your lap, but here's where it all vanishes into thin air. Sana's mouth is hovering over Miyeon's shoulder; her body, caught between the two of you. And she's trading in on the implied permission to tell you more directly:

"She needs to cum all over that cock, babe. Fuck her pussy until she’s creaming, won't you."

"Right." You groan in tacit approval, hands holding firm onto the firm swell of her hips - that round little ass, the dimples you can feel the dip of, just under your thumbs. She's already thrown her arms up around the back of your neck when your cock slips inside her, to tug you in; this wordless begging: need, need, need.

It's not even a totally new sensation. Nor is it even the first you've ever been inside her, but god - Miyeon takes one deep breath, and on the second inhale, you sink another thick inch of your cock into her slippery slit: she's completely, gloriously bare, just this slick heat that only opens more and more and more. You draw back, thrust in, and there's this sopping sound, all wet press, into the soft muscle - you don't even remember pulling her panties to the side. But they're bunched into the crease of her thigh and that's rather convenient.

Her breath hitches as she slots down onto your shaft, again - in rhythm - like a total dream. "Fuck, that's so tight," she grates, her voice rough and gutted; something like, 'I cannot believe you feel this good.'

-and they groan in unison when you pick up speed. All of it. Together.

Because it's not just Miyeon's perfect cunt wrapping you up tight, squeezing and pulsing, even better on the backstroke - but it's the way Sana is catching your lips in the space over Miyeon’s shoulder. That you three can play each other with the promise that every last moan or gasp or the single, resounding thrill of pleasure will find a perfect partner: one for your mouth and one for Sana's fingers at Miyeon's collar bone, a tickle along her hip, pressing an insistent fingertip around and around in small circles, dipping into the give.

Her body's shaking so much through every push and pull. Fuck. She's so small - and you're the one filling her. Fucking her. Breaking her. Pressing two girls into the wall like you've earned the right. You're splitting Miyeon apart so that Sana can fill the spaces you leave empty and vice versa: and she's so, so desperate, the little noises she's making, "Please," like it hurts. "Fuck," like it's the best feeling. "Keep going, please, fuck- don't stop."

"See, baby? It feels better when you just give up, doesn't it?" Sana's got her fingers down further between Miyeon's thighs; you can see her swipe upwards. Hear the wet sound. She says, "there," into her ear. "Nice and slow, while he fucks that cunt, and I rub you like this, we want to keep making you feel good. So take what you need, hm. I don't hear you-"

"Oh my god," Miyeon moans. And she means it - feels herself dripping all over you. "I need it. I need it, I-"

"Come on, darling," Sana chuckles, soft and low in her ear.

"N-need," Miyeon chokes.

And what kind of idiot wouldn't take their palm off her breast, or undig their fingers from the round of her ass for even a second. It's having her in the palm of your hand. With one foot dangling against your thigh and the other tangled up above you, the stretch in Miyeon's body is entirely for the convenience of letting you fuck her to pieces.

"There it is," Sana is murmuring into your mouth again, and that’s a reward of its own, her wet, full kiss at the junction between Miyeon’s neck and shoulder as her thumb digs deeper into the curve of the girl’s thigh. You listen to Miyeon moan your own name, uttered like it was written by god and meant to form on her lips as it tumbles down through the ragged mess of pants and gasps.

“Fuck, baby-” You press harder. “Your pussy feels incredible- how you suck me right up like you're the good girl you love to pretend you are- like a perfect toy," you breathe, "-all nice and hot. Licking, swallowing around my cock, getting dicked out for my enjoyment-"

"Yeah, yes," she pants out, the total capitulation. "It feels so fucking good."

You feel the mindless, blissful roll. A rhythm in the give of her thighs as you slide home again and again. There's a clink from the bracelets on her wrists; her hair falling into her eyes; there's the sheer ecstasy written all over her pretty face when Sana reaches one hand to start drawing slow circles on her clit. 

"You're just fucking me so god-damn-good." She’s breathless; you’re taking everything from her. The poise, the finesse, the dignity.

"Of course we are," Sana supplies, and it's fitting. You're both holding her up. You'll be the ones tearing her down.

Miyeon's arms tighten around the back of your head, arching, squeezing, and there's that feeling that always accompanies Miyeon: like she's completely melting you to her core and turning your brains into fucking mush. Everything from her tight little pussy to her breathtakingly pretty eyes to the way her spine flexes to meet the pitch of her voice - it's fucking ridiculous, that she's even real in the first place - let alone that your cock is buried so deep in her cunt you think you can hear her sob. Or that all five-foot-two of her is making these tiny desperate noises as you use the width of her hips to bounce her harder onto your cock. 

Sana's long fingers slip and press - they're not touching anything except the swell of her pussy, just this ghostly brush of a light, almost chaste graze. It's enough: a touch like that, and fuck, another-

Miyeon cries out.

“I'm going to cum-"

"Say it again," Sana's whispering, "tell us what you need," and in a sort of coup-de-grace-style-of-climax, she bites at the skin over the top of Miyeon's jaw and slips a fingertip right onto her aching clit. Presses down. "You're such a fucking slut, Miyeon, such a gorgeous cocksleeve-"

"I-"

She's actually whimpering, the poor thing. Eyes squeezed shut, toes clenching; everything is trembling, tense with release. You’re fucking her into a puddle of a person, and she’s holding her lip between her teeth like it might do a goddamn thing. It makes sense; the tightness, and wet and heat is what she knows.

"Go on," Sana answers her, and it's like her words slice the voice in Miyeon’s throat to shreds, "cum all over his cock. So. Fucking. Good, baby," a hard push through every syllable as her teeth snag into the shell of her ear. She rides the boundary of degradation and downright debasement because she knows that’s how Miyeon will absolutely cum for her. For you, for both of you. "Do what you're fucking made for, and just take it, pretty, lovely, you can’t live a second without having his fat cock and my fingers in you, can you? You look like a filthy little angel like this, I swear."

You’re both on the same page, telling her over and over - shh, shh, you take that cock so well, feel that cock fuck you apart, baby, and all you have to do is cum - only, you’re paying homage to the title: you call her princess. Sana takes the opposite approach. Tells her, "you want everyone to know, don't you, what a goddamn fucking slut you are. You filthy, dirty little thing-"

It works. They both work, and so does everything else.

Your blood has gone totally hot. Like molten lava. Boiling over and about to spill.

The last thing Miyeon says: "Oh god - I'll be good, I'll do anything, I'll be your slut - Sana - anything-"

And it's one of the best lines to ever leave her mouth.

"-for this beautiful cock and these fucking perfect fingers, shit - fuck! Right there, right there, right-fucking-there-"

You fuck deeper, harder. The orgasm ripping through her muscles lets you leave marks and bruises you’ll be coming back to all weekend. Miyeon's face falls against the crook of your neck, mouth pressed there - you can feel every gasping inhale, the open-mouthed warmth of her body. It's you that whispers a shudder, half-voweled - "Miyeon," and she’s already there, so ready - it's kind of crazy how everything about this girl works so intricately and precise, like her very design was to take you to the hilt and melt all over your cock, because Miyeon's response comes as a mind-blanking:

"You can," a muffled whine in her throat. "Do it. Cum inside me. I want to-"

Sana’s eyes flare like she can feel that cable snapping, too. How your mind is all white noise. The torque of blood rushing through your head. You're thrusting deep into her well-fucked cunt with all the strength you can muster, your hips stuttering in the follow-through. When you catch the smile in her lips - the curl in her lips like she knows you’re about to spill everything, like the perfect siren’s call- you hear Sana over her shoulder: "fuck her. Use her. I think she wants to feel it in her fucking stomach - you know, the whole reason we’re here-"

You cum inside her - there’s no question - filling her tight hole up. Shit. You actually cum all over her too.

In fact, you manage to drag yourself all the way out from Miyeon, the wet quivers and hot aftershocks, all so Sana can get a good visual of how you’re fucking ruining her: the loose rope of white that streaks up her tummy, splaying out beneath her breasts. The absolute debauchery; it’s even more pornographic when your fist pumps another splatter of cum right onto the swollen lips of her pussy. Miyeon moaning on impact.

Sana supplies her own soft gasp, scraping the air past her teeth, tension hanging in the silence - and then you bury the rest of your load back inside her cunt.

And here's a feeling that's going to stick with you for a while. Beyond the fireworks in your pulse - the shake-ripple that leaves you with nothing, no muscles, no brain matter - you slide your cock through her cunt again, and again - just to feel how your cum pushes back out. And she's watching, she’s letting you watch: how messy she's become. Her tits. Her sweat-dewed thighs. How every second seems to bring its own unique ache. 

Really, you’re left only with a near mental blank. “God, Miyeon-”

You have just the barest capacity to consider the way Miyeon's trembling frame clings hard - pulling her ass cheeks down flush against your hips - your thick cock completely seated, stuffing her fucking cunt as she goes weak and submissive. You hold her there, suspended as your orgasm softens inside her and Sana hums along your lips, the soft coos spilling into Miyeon's ear: "what a messy, nasty girl. Princess needs to be full and leaking everywhere, doesn't she. How many creampies do you think you're going to ask for?” Sana laughs. “How many will ever be enough? I hope he gave you something worth begging for."

It's not really surprising how a feeling can hook its teeth into you when you're cumming like that. Subjugating the deepest reach of her sopping cunt to fulfill your own filthy fantasy. 

And look: Miyeon is soaked - soaked and wrecked and pliant. You kiss her and kiss her, and Sana kisses you, kisses her too, all of it muddled up - and your mouths are a mess. Your hands go into her hair, onto her ass; there's cum down her thighs and all over the floor. The smell of you three: her slicked arousal and your sweat and Sana's expensive perfume. 

Here, come come - Sana is a flurry of activity; she's helping Miyeon out of her second heel after you'd fucked the first one off her foot without bothering to get the strap unhooked. There's her careful proclamation of, "thank god the walls aren't paper," as you practically carry Miyeon to the edge of the sofa, this dreamy vision of messy hair and a royally-befit-blush. In the whole world, not once has Miyeon looked like anything less than nobility.

And now's no different, really.

You sink down onto the plush, tufted fabric - a chair whose shape might confuse you if Sana hadn’t told you earlier it was explicitly built for fucking, or whatever it is you're doing. She's smiling at you, settling her face right onto your shoulder and peering up.

"Sana," she says wistfully, but looks right at you. "My legs are still a noodly-mess. Could you turn on the jets in the tub?"

"And leave the two of you unsupervised?" She jokes. "Never."

Miyeon sticks out her lip. Pouts, almost: "it'd just be a second."

"She's only asking for a minute," you add in.

Sana rolls her eyes. "And since you've suddenly turned into two hopeless idiots, it can't be trusted. If I'm drawing a bath," a flick of the gaze, "the least you can do is join me. A chance to recover if nothing else."

Miyeon, being Miyeon, has already dropped her face down to your lap, curling up with your cock at her lips. When she gets her first, tantalizing, almost chaste little swipe at the tip, she smiles all impressed with herself. With those big brown eyes, her fingertips skating delicately along your stomach, and her dark lashes beating slow - all of Miyeon, right now, is on purpose, calculated. Precise. 

Her voice is even worse: "she wants her own go first, don't you think?"

Sana watches where your fingers thread into the ends of Miyeon's silky hair, just the gentlest twist and tug. How you have her mouth ready and open, waiting; how Miyeon glances over for approval.

"Well," Sana turns a cheek, "he's already so worked up." Her dark eyes look towards you - a mock frown. "I don't know if we can convince him otherwise."

Miyeon's throat clicks - she's not choking yet, but left to her own devices, she will be. Her expression melts into an almost-gasp as your cock fills the empty space in her mouth. There's that plush little gag as she opens, lips wet. You rock your hips, and then you get to watch her nose kiss the trail leading up the smooth plane of your belly.

"I could go for a soak," you admit, with Miyeon drooling on your cock.

Because Sana's doing that thing where she turns around, has the smug look over her shoulder. Makes a slow, teasing movement that leads your eyes from her pretty face all the way down the cut of her back, until finally she's pushing the soft waves of her hair into one hand so that her ass is perfectly presented-

And jesus, sure: the sloping hips, the inviting lines - the sharp points and soft edges, where she is and isn't; her cupped fingers come up to her own chest, just to show off the heft of her tits, hanging heavy. Everything is sensually posed. You're only a little bit mesmerized. Her figure has always had the cut of a pinup model. Curves like a siren. Her waist to hip ratio is - oh-fucking-kay, maybe you could do it right now - bend her in half - get her fucking sobbing until you kiss her quiet and cum so deep in her cunt it's all she can think about for days-

You realize then you're pulling too hard on Miyeon’s hair.

Not meaning to, or maybe too eager.

Hey, you have a pretty girl sucking life back into your cock and one more giving you bedroom eyes from across the room all ready to sit on it; you never said you weren't trying your best.

"Careful, honey. I'm getting impatient." Sana's hand traces the wallpaper trim in the hall, a sweeping path; a vague reminder as she disappears down and around the corner. You hear the squeak of the faucet and then the sound of her light footsteps. And then it's just an echoey and unapologetic, "one day I might not let you have all the fun," followed by, "my goodness-"

Sana, appraising her reflection in all likelihood. All bright smiles

You turn back to find a second set of eyes staring back, full of hunger, as a wet, messy heat wraps around the base of your shaft and follows to the top with the flutter of her tongue - and then all the way to the back of that tempting throat. Miyeon's moving at the tempo you'd put her at. You appreciate that. But you lift her jaw and hold the side of her face so she's looking straight at you - and as soon as you pop yourself out from between her lips, you say, "you'll let me taste Sana, too, won't you, baby?"

(Miyeon's never been good at saying no - to anything. That doesn't change here in the slightest.)

The way you laugh is easy and sweet. You kiss the space over her temple. "We've always been in this together, Miyeon," a soft tease. "Go ask her nicely, and I bet she lets you clean me up," before adding, "maybe, after you lick all the cum out of my girlfriend's tight ass."

And Miyeon simply grins. The promise of that sloppy fucking mess. She's ruined herself time and time again over far less.

"Oh," she says, "you know how good I look with cum dripping down my chin.”

It's kind of impressive how shameless she can be. So fucking blase - what are friends for, anyway.

“Shall we?"

You scoop Miyeon right up into your arms and, upon standing, swing her little body around in front of you. And she knows that's the sort of thing she shouldn't enjoy: being manhandled, told what to do, having someone lift the choice off her shoulders like that - but that doesn't stop her from tangling herself up around your neck and tilting her hips back into you in that playful-fake, overly innocent-cute mien - where she says in this tiny whisper, "are we, you think?"

Your mouth lands on her ear, nips the softness there, "behave yourself, sweetheart."

And then a low, breathless laugh escapes her: "when's the last time that was even an option."

-

(For the record, the answer is never, and you're probably actually so fucked - it's kind of hilarious to look back at it, and think, because how could any two people who have spent as many weeks (months) as you, putting all the right pieces into the right places, get all the stars align at once? The idea that the three of you are hooking up and nobody's getting hurt, murdered or hung out to dry is statistically improbable; and the likelihood that anyone in this presidential suite will survive the weekend without breaking at least four limbs in various places is rapidly dropping with each passing hour. You've been taking the old adage and clutching it against your chest - 

It can't be a sin, if it makes you happy.)

-

Past the door, the first thing you notice is that Sana's hair is all pinned up. Always pretty like that.

However it doesn't change the picture a whole lot. A few inches more bare skin isn't exactly a big difference when there's the whole, naked, porcelain expanse that spans the soft length of her shoulders, along her hips and waist, and runs to her feet. It's still kind of incredible. The hourglass shaped silhouette. All the natural curves finding relief in the right places. Model-esque, that sort of thing. And, yes: her tits, the absolute heaven-sent frame of her ass and those amazing legs.

It goes without saying.

She's there with her back arched, an arm perched on the granite of the counter. So relaxed. An elegance only afforded to the very lucky or the very rich. She lets her head fall back, the fine curve of her chin canting above a neck that you would've been biting kisses into just moments ago if she hadn't put herself in full profile to take your breath away.

"Show off," Miyeon mumbles, and then whispers to you, "sorry. My body can't do that, like-" she indicates - with a weird wobbly hand gesture, about the height of Sana's pelvis. "Whatever that is."

Sana tilts her head forward and meets the glance you give her reflection.

"Hmm," is her eloquent contribution to the airy room, woven into the pitter-patter of bathwater, lapping at the surface. "Now why am I left to wonder why there's no one making good on my requests, huh."

You cross the space; get close. And Miyeon stays curled up against you, doesn't let you slip away as you walk over, doesn't let go. She kisses the front of your shoulder, hums softly.

"My bad," You say. It's very believable. You sound a bit winded; kind of a wreck, but your sincerity shines through in that sort of 'I'll fuck it better' kind of way.

"Excuses, excuses." A dismissive shrug. "The water's perfect. But if you insist," and the sultry drop of Sana's eyelashes is deliberate, an invitation. Her breath is caught as your mouth finds the space between her neck and shoulder blade - the place where she's gone all pink, "I'd hardly pass up the chance for you both to eat my pussy first."

And look: it's not a lie, per se, but the natural instinct for Miyeon-logic is just to provide the justification, "the faster we get you a cumming, squirming, desperate mess-" her hand slips to cup the junction of her jaw and the crook of her throat. "-the sooner it'll be 'til he fucks me senseless again."

"We have a long way to go to get even, sweetie," argues Sana. "Last time, you were both pretty self-absorbed."

"We'd never ignore you on purpose," you whisper into the crook of her neck, and Sana turns to let you follow that deep, velvety mouth as the kiss flows across her lips. "You're absolutely necessary."

"Only by accident, then. That's a little bit worse," snarks Sana. The reprimand dies down into something soft as Miyeon lets her tongue trail flat over a nipple. She shudders.

"If I keep going, maybe you can forgive us?" You watch her eyelids flutter open, a haze of ecstasy passing behind her eyes. You keep an arm at her hip, wrap around and press flat until her whole flat tummy is pinned against your cock.

"Mmm," Sana hums. It's that sultry note she likes to let trail from the very end of her throat. "Ask me again after you get me off. But slowly: I want to savor every detail."

Miyeon traces kisses across Sana's rib until your girlfriend presses two wet fingers to her mouth. Easy.

"Then you should probably do something about her," you say, and - as if in agreement - Sana twists her hand into the cascades of her Miyeon's hair. You lean into her shoulder. She sighs; exhales, deeply, while her back is shimmying further backwards into the countertop.

"And you should help her make it up to me," Sana chimes, her voice clear and melodic, every inflection playing right at home in her vocal cords. "Two mouths are better than one, and I have so many other places you should be kissing."

Sana has a verifiable gravitas, for one, and when she's not hiding in plain sight behind the bubbly-bright act she likes to put on, it's nearly impossible not to fall in line behind her. This isn't to say you couldn't win her over either; it's a pretty small crowd here. But you choose one direction and watch her skin pink up and turn to red; you grab a wrist and it goes cold and white. Every last part of her is so damn expressive. The point is that she doesn't need you to make a fool out of yourself to know you're into her - or vice versa.

(Or. You're such a goddamn sucker, as Miyeon likes to remind you with a scoff, a little eye-roll, and then her hands on your belt. At least, before everything else: the knowing smirk, the dangerous suggestion).

You let your fingers find the backs of Sana's thighs as she spreads her knees apart, and there, you're reminded of the one thing. That of all the ways these two girls are identical, you've never found a comparison that really works. Not by any useful measure.

Miyeon has all the softer features: a bit dainty, the doe eyes and the lone dimple, like a doll with an aw-so-cute factor, whereas Sana is all sharp, clean angles; the sculpted muscle in her calves and thighs, the firmness and muscle underneath - which, yeah, definitely not the worst trade off. Don't get it confused, both girls crave your approval; both prefer when things get rough and sloppy. Describing either as anything but the most submissive holy-shit-take-me-now-I-need-you type, when put under the slightest pressure is laughable.

Not when Miyeon lets you use her like a toy. Or when Sana tells you exactly what you need to do to fuck a baby into her (hypothetically speaking; she gets a little silly and dumb around the edges whenever she's about to cum and her brain starts tripping over her tongue). Neither will hesitate when given the option of having your hand on the side of their throat, pinning their wrists to the headboard or the shower wall, fucking them until they go liquid and collapse in your arms, shivering, whimpering and begging, their pussies pulsing around your cock. In fact, there's really no hard or fast rule at all. But here, you recognize, is a great point of difference -

"Baby," you murmur into the inside of Sana's thigh. You leave a mark with your lips that you’ll come back to. "So. Fucking. Gorgeous-" right as Miyeon starts pressing her mouth against her cunt. "Aren't you, baby? The most beautiful girl. And all of this is just mine?"

Listen - the praise kink your girl has is actually pretty textbook: Sana wants to be called sweet, she wants to be complimented, rewarded, and all that good stuff; she wants you to talk to her the way everyone who sees a flash of her skin or a sway of her hips wants to - the best parts of adulation, arousal, love, without any of the side-eye of it being totally obscured in a crowded venue.

Direct.

To the point. 

She wants to hear each and every you're sexy, you look hot, your ass drives me crazy. She wants it on the gruff in your voice, how it gets a little rough at the edges. Tell me you're mine. You make me so hard. This is just the very essence of who Sana is, and you have learned that you need to give as well as take: feed her a tiny ego boosting here and there, and she will completely throw herself at you in return.

Miyeon watches you run your tongue over her cunt like she’s taking notes, and it’s clear you’re more than prepared to give it all up to her. There's always been this veneration, this reverence for every inch of her, a pull towards her - her eyes, her mouth, her wrists, her long beautiful legs, the place where the skin of her thighs meets - you've always had this insane fascination with Sana, this need to know what she'd taste like or sound like. At any given moment.

"Oh," Sana pushes Miyeon closer, moaning. "Yours. So yours, baby."

The moment you both have your tongues working at her - tasting, the sweetness of her dripping down onto both of your faces, making you lick your lips and kiss each other so Sana gets to watch - Miyeon hums approvingly. Lets out this very performative, "isn't she just the best?"

And it isn’t that you can't find the right word - divine, wonderful, heaven, incredible, without any flaw - there just isn't much room to read into the fact that you and Miyeon are both sunk to your knees on the bathmat, kneeling in worship, in adoration - sucking on Sana's clit. The imagery sells itself.

"We'd never forget the important things," Miyeon continues, dreamily.

She's trading with you the folds of Sana's dripping pussy and the outline of her lips for her thigh. You pick up where she leaves off, and that earns you Sana's hand raking through the back of your hair, pressing you so close you can hear her heartbeat in her pulse; her blood burning through the very spot.

“That's how you make me feel, baby: so fucking good. Amazing." You taste it. You chase it. There is nothing like her cum filling your mouth. "Pretty. Mine. All mine."

“Yeah, okay - sure - that feels really fucking good.” 

Sana's orgasms always start slow; a slight adjustment of her hips, the rub of one calf against the other, she's never been the quiet type but there's not quite the screaming or yelling just yet. Her jaw is set.

"You're, uh-," she adds, failing at anything else.

Miyeon tries for it. That edge of danger; not in pain or frustration, but, "there you go, sweetie: you sound so fucking pretty when you're worked up. Just tell us - the words, we need the words to make it good, baby."

"Fine," says Sana, tilting her head down, breathing deeply, and she makes a sound that's neither a whimper nor a laugh, but a crossroads of both. "Right there, oh my god, you are so fucking dangerous, holy shit. Oh, please. Please. You two- just, please, don't you dare- just a little bit - mmm. Why do you have to be so good at that?"

"Right?" Miyeon laughs out loud - like you're the one missing a vital point, like it's your fault your face is buried in her folds. “I used to think guys just didn’t like doing it. And then, well-"

And you drag your tongue flat and up over her pussy, right through that whole slicked up slit, your fingers still pumping in and out, and then you flick it just hard enough to-

"-yeah," she huffs, panting.

Miyeon presses her thumb into the mess of Sana's cunt, and it causes Sana's whole body to shudder apart - you lift your face to breathe, or to promise, "we can go for hours if you want, taking turns making you cum," before pressing into her again, and Sana's only got so much patience and stamina when you're two steps ahead of the curve, because her legs are practically going to wobble off her body.

"Poor, pretty baby," Miyeon murmurs against her, and she's talking like she’s taken all the control now. Operating in that cycle of push and pull.

And to her point: Sana is whining, gasping - every bit as hot and bothered and needy. She's whispering please and not giving up her requests.

"Fuck. Okay, sorry-” she apologizes. For some reason.

Your nose keeps getting bumped, her cunt is grinding down into your chin. That is fine. If it keeps on like this, your whole face will be soaking wet.

"I'm going to just- going to go ahead and cum, I think- so fucking. Yeah, keep on going just like, shit, please: my pussy is fucking throbbing."

This is the easy part, if you've read the rest right. If the hours and the minutes, and all the passing days: you know which direction the pieces are about to fall.

Sana arches her spine, rolls her hips into your face, and when you swirl your tongue all over the wet heat at her core, the sound she makes is music: low, throaty and delicate. Your mouth is attached to her clit still when you look up over the hand you have steadying each tremble in her diaphragm. And possibly as a sort of vengeful maneuver, Miyeon is shoving two fingers under your jaw and far enough into Sana's pussy that each curl of a knuckle is all that’s left to find Sana cumming right onto your mouth, your chin. 

She wants to scream, to cry out, but her mouth joins her face, in that frozen expression of anguish, of an absolute that perfect pleasure.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," Miyeon consoles, standing up, leaning in - close, really, impossibly close; she presses their foreheads together, murmuring against Sana's ear, whispering what-do-you-need, there you go. Baby, that was perfect. They each know the song and dance. They can shamelessly recite each other's lines. Miyeon slides an arm to the small of Sana's back, one across her shoulders, and Sana leans against her with this gorgeous look of a perfect, mind-numbing orgasm on her face, her eyes bright, her lashes fluttering - a sheen of sweat across her forehead; your stomach falls and bottoms out; you can't not be fucking attracted to these two. Miyeon smooths down her hair, reassuring her. Her hand reaches lower, wraps around her, pulls.

The bath is well filled at this point, water near overflowing, and Sana is equally fucking soaked. This storm of wet and hot beneath your lips. You clean her off with the broad stroke of your tongue and don't spill a drop, because the noise she's making - it sounds like rapture, ecstasy. She's half-delirious, panting, with her hands gripping the sides of your head.

"Where," she gasps, trying her damnedest. You have the best girls in the world, you really fucking do. Miyeon rubs the heel of her palm against the soaked, red hood of her cunt. Sana lets out a sound halfway between a gasp and a groan; the arch of her hips chasing Miyeon's touch; "you, are you two - god damn, if I hadn't already-"

"Shhh. My poor girl. You're not thinking about his cock just yet," and those are Miyeon's slender fingers coaxing your jaw free from Sana's cunt, prying her free from you so she can sit alone at her throne. "They always keep lube in these kind of places," Miyeon reaches into a drawer, fumbling about. It takes a moment for it to register that she's actually talking to you. "It usually looks like some body oil, you know the nice massage kind, in these tiny bottles. Help me look, will you?"

It does not take long - hotel management understands what these rooms are for. The scandal and the romance and everything in between. Because Miyeon finds what she’s looking for in the next drawer down: a sample-sized container of massage oil, something slippery and organic. It smells vaguely of lavender.

"Look at me," Miyeon tells you, and Sana is absolutely listening along too. It's all very seamless: Sana and then Miyeon. All the synchronized parts. Their signals have some sort of feedback even if you're not always actively aware of the things they pass back and forth.

Miyeon guides Sana onto her shaky legs, turns her toward you - So you swallow, hard, and run your thumbs into the crease of her ass - you're kneeling, still, still totally naked and wet all around the jaw. "Eat her ass, and I'll keep her cumming until she can't feel anything else."

You shift your weight and run a kiss along the tender skin at the back of Sana’s thigh. The contact has her bracing a hand on the counter for support.

“And then-” Miyeon says, with a gleam in her eyes like she knows what the fuck she wants. She slides back down to the floor until Sana is pinned between a rock and a hard place. Her two favorite people in the world: namely, your hands gripping Sana's hips, and Miyeon's tongue all over the aching little clit you'd just had your mouth wrapped around moments ago.

"And then?" you provide, hovering a kiss onto the beautiful round of Sana's ass. Her fucking cheek. You have to slap it. Just a little. And when you watch it ripple back and forth with your handprint there, a spot of pink already blooming, well, she has to be giving you a sultry look that demands to know when it is exactly that you are going to stick your cock inside of her, and it is absolutely just impossible to look anywhere else.

"And then," Miyeon supplies, "we're going get that beautiful cock in her ass so you can fuck her brains to mush."

"Thanks I guess, for the explicit permission," you scoff, and here you drop your lips, trail them into the crack of Sana's ass, up and down, teasing the taut stretch of her hole with the tip of your tongue.

"Someone has to take responsibility for-," she pulls on Sana's leg and stretches it forward, repositions her ever so slightly. She sucks Sana's clit into her mouth with an exaggerated sort of satisfaction.

You wait for Miyeon to continue, and then realize with the unshakeable notion: she isn't going to, because it's too damn much trouble. There is no reason to pull apart the premise and not the girl straddled between your faces. The only option is to follow her lead, and to worship Sana. To trace every crevice of her, lick between her ass and the sensitive, clenching heat of her pussy.

"Can we, like, take a timeout-" Sana's mouth is slurring into the skin of her forearm. Her upper thighs are quaking, quivering as you sink your teeth in. Her head's gone all heavy as a slutty little moan rings out and straight down her lungs.

And maybe the realization is setting in. You and Miyeon are going to fuck her until you all can't think - until you're nothing but primal urges, nothing but bodies with beating, pounding hearts; and every thought in Sana's head will be to the two of you; to Miyeon, whose hand finds the front of Sana's stomach and guides her pelvis into rolling forward and grinding into her mouth, to you, with your tongue lathering and lapping at her asshole, and running your hands around her hips until her whole body's shaking, "oh fuck, my god-" 

(The writing is on the wall. You and Miyeon are going to fuck her until none of you know where you end, where the other begins.)

Sana tries again, and the question ends in a deep, rumbling, "don't you want, Miyeon, wouldn't you rather just really, fucking love, having his thick cock stretch you apart," - she swallows - and when she glances behind her back and finds you watching her, there is just pure, unadulterated arousal burning through her eyelashes, over the flare of her ass.

You catch the fucking bow of her lower lip wobbling as she adds, a little more pointed and a lot more determined, "when you're, fuck, begging and screaming for his load? To be his cumdump, his little bitch," it's like she's got her heart set, and her mouth can't stop moving fast enough, and "to do whatever he wants just because it makes you look and feel so damn hot?"

You can hear Miyeon's mouth smacking with the way it works, the way she is swallowing, gasping. You can hear the sound she makes when her mouth goes loose, and says, agreeing, "you're going to love it Sana, every god-damn-inch, you always do" and Sana is falling apart again into your grip, moaning, and then "it's so much better. All the stretch, that tightness. But she needs your fingers first.

You can hear Sana gasping too, dripping a mess into the place where her pussy and ass meet. Miyeon licks a wide strip from her core all the way up and kisses it. Lick. Kiss, lick - her hands pulling Sana closer by the hip - kiss, kiss, lick - pulling her mouth around your girl's clit. So close to the place in Sana's bubbly cheeks, where your mouth supplies long sucks and soft kisses - so close you can practically taste the scented flavor in Miyeon's lip gloss.

"I can't- shit. Hold on, guys," Sana whispers. It's her nails scraping against the granite. "You need to-" and then the loud, dull thwap of her knee knocking into the cabinet. 

She's cumming again - this time, loud and guttural, but another really beautiful sound - her cunt pulsing hard into nothing while the air hangs in limbo, Miyeon's tongue circling her clit, your palms around Sana's beautiful, round ass. You're half convinced they'd be fine with being locked away in some tower. Forget the world and its obligations. Or, rather: let the world stop spinning; leave only this.

There is not much talking from then on. 

Mostly whining, whimpers and pleas to: not stop, yes, there, yes, please, fuck, and Miyeon wraps her fingers around you - almost the same thing she did when you were pumping your cum into her quivering cunt earlier, asking, please, may I-?

Sana bends herself over the counter, like something instinctual. The perfect bend and arch in her spine, the bow of her knees and the press of her thighs. Inviting, pleading. You can feel the tingle, the stiff tension in the muscles, when you reach out and lift her ass; it gives so easily to your touch. Your palm, her cheeks. There's a beautiful flush as the pink starts to run, fade, and reappear along her back, and - fuck, okay, seriously-

Miyeon's there, kneeling next to you: stroking her fingers up your length. She’s kissing you too. It’s hard to think.

But the sound of the cap coming off the bottle comes like an alarm clock, pulling you out of a dream.

Miyeon sits on her heels, smiling into the press of your lips as the bottle she procured tips out. Clear, viscous and smooth into her palm. When it becomes a lot of dripping; she swirls it against your cock - her knuckles wrapped around you, running and twisting into every curve, sliding her whole grip with long, calculated strokes.

"I don't think she's in any condition to keep a tally," Miyeon announces, "so, why don't you decide?"

"Meaning?" you're panting; your brain keeps working to formulate complete thoughts.

"Meaning," she slips her tongue against yours, slides her teeth and draws into your lower lip, "you should totally pound her gorgeously tight little ass" - another kiss, mostly on your lower lip; almost a bite - "and then you should dump that massive load of yours" - a shudder rolls through her shoulder and leaves a whisper in her wake - "right inside mine."

There are about eight thousand words in the English language but what you say is, "fuck."

Because she's right: Sana is blathering the moment you stand up and let your hands reach around, grab hold of her full, rounded hips. She’s not in any state to protest or complain about matters of equality or correspondence. Her lips and tongue are barely even fit to say anything but yes-yes-please-anything, oh god.

Which, okay, whatever: of course, whatever the fuck she needs - whatever they need - you pull at her hips until it's there, your cock sandwiched between those full, warm ass-cheeks, the perfect amount of pressure to get you so fucking hot, and Sana's not shy about rolling her hips to keep you pressed to the surface, rocking into your balls until her cunt's making slick, wet, hungry noises and she's just one endless, groaning moan.

"Love feeling your cock," Sana mutters; and there is a, "please, fuck me, baby- please?" thrown in for good measure.

"Please do, you're like - you're like ridiculously gifted," Miyeon adds, always the right touch of caustic.

"-please."

Sana's eloquence is short lived, because the second you give her ass a squeeze and Miyeon presses her thumb against Sana's cunt, her voice catches on her throat.

She sounds perfectly winded, completely out of breath, a tiny, sexed-up growl running through the notes as she speaks to her reflection in the mirror. Miyeon laughs. She can hardly get her own shit together when you lean up and grab a breast in hand, or start leaving slow-but-steady bite marks along the back of her shoulder blades; like it's all-too funny when you pin Sana to the counter until she starts to beg in that please, please, please tone: when every syllable and gasp is hitched and short.

"She doesn't want gentle," Miyeon tuts, finding her place next to Sana, holding her chin in her hands and catching the expression on her face. She presses a thumb into Sana's mouth for no reason other than: they're so soft. Wet. Pink and full, parted around her fingertip. "Isn't that right, baby?"

Your gaze follows their hips, swaying. And from this angle: identical. The hair, the jawline, the arch of the throat and shoulders, the elegant twist and fold of their limbs, the eyes, the blush, the smile, and the legs. They don't have to look exactly the same: their presence is near identical - Miyeon's the cuter one, sure. It's been established, but fuck, the look on Sana's face as you spread her asshole with just a finger is fucking dangerous. You're going to lose your mind. Both the flat tummies and the beautiful breasts and their matching hard nipples - and the fucking two best asses the world has ever seen. A line up over the counter: Miyeon and Sana, side by side; their reflections looking at you in tandem, wearing these same expressions. The eyes begging, asking and insisting, the pouting lower-lip and the glassy sheen of their eyelashes.

You tell them: "how am I supposed to" - you run the thick-glistening head of your cock along the pucker of Sana’s tight ass, grind your hips into the friction - "focus when you two look at me like that?”

"Um, just give up," says Miyeon, grinning; and then, when your jaw snaps closed and there's the obvious shift of your hips as your length strains through your body's need and pulls you closer to that incredible, tight, dark hole: "god, there you go. That is so fucking hot."

So, it's just like this:

They watch each other. The mirror is right there; every want, every motion. 

And then, yeah, a low and throaty, "is that it?" - Sana nods into Miyeon's hand and smiles, with just the slightest hint of something that could resemble a blush - "why we always come back to him? Because, really-"

"Mmm." Sana hums agreement, dazed and drunk in her words, the slow breath of air you push out of her chest as your cock starts to sink in; the deeper the intrusion, the lower your names become - just murmurs and sighs and sounds: "god, yes, god-"

Her pussy starts to drip onto the tiles, her slick collecting at Miyeon's knees as Sana takes you all the way: and you hold, once you're all the way in; once that gorgeous little puckered rim has stretched around your entire width; there's just the smell of the room; lavender and rose and citrus - Sana's endless arousal - and you hold, and hold on tight - and your muscles shiver as Sana draws the first rocking motion of her hips.

The smallest, lightest grind.

"Jesus fucking christ," you curse, because the heat around your cock is excruciatingly tight. A slow-burning, tingling-aching pleasure as the flesh inside Sana's ass moves up and down the length, drawing out inch by inch of skin - until your entire cock is nearly pulled out.

You're the one that drives all the way back in.

Sana gasps. She runs her hand through her hair. She tries her damndest to remember what words are, clearly coming up empty.

"Baby." Miyeon is kissing her forehead, her nose, her lips, and coos praises in her ear. She sinks her fingers into the curve of Sana's immaculate ass, pulling on the soft cheek, showing-

You are speechless. It's just: that next stroke. And another. Your cock slipping in and out with each pass, so easy once Sana sighs, licks her lips and leans into your rhythm, there, all at once and then faster. And she looks in the mirror, because of course; of course she watches Miyeon run her hand all over her front, the perfect tits and a pretty stomach - your thrusting keeps up until every thrust has her hips rolling forward and snapping back, chasing her own momentum; chasing that thick, hard, stretch of cock and that beautiful pleasure-pain as the force and pace rocks her, pounds her so her entire body has to curl against Miyeon's chest for support, so that she's going a little weak in the knees.

"How is he?" Miyeon's tone gets wicked in these situations, a lot less innocent. She gets excited, giddy. "Pretty, handsome, stupidly attractive," her voice picks up a playful lilt, and she gets you grinning - it's only the start. "And he's all yours. But how's the cock, huh? He's gaping your ass so pretty. Your hole is so fucking open around him. It looks incredible, doesn't it?"

Sana reaches for the side of her ass, presses her fingertips to her skin: pulls and splits a fingernail into the tender flesh where her ass and thigh meet - right above her cunt. You snap your hips into hers and watch your cock disappear. Every motion gives, slurps and sucks until you're hilted inside her.

"Feels, mmmm - fuck." Her chest is fluttering, every part of her so fucking flushed, her blood running beneath the surface so every single inch of her skin is saturated with her own need, her want.

"Feels so good," you growl, your vision gone dark around the edges. Miyeon's there, vaguely, smirking into Sana's jaw, licking at the sweat, scraping her teeth along the skin to bite down, pull- "she's so fucking tight. Gripping the hell out of my cock. Like, it feels unbelievable, you know."

"Babe," she cries, though you give her no respite - you use that little sliver of slack and pull out far enough that she'll know it when your cock is hammering into her ass, a little more aggressive, and you start with quick, hard pumps that echo throughout the room - not for your pleasure or hers: just to hear it, listen, you're driving up so far into that perfect, gorgeous ass that it sends her tits rocking and rolling with every bounce of her chest; her moans, her babbling incoherence, are, again - it's like a drug - and Miyeon's smiling. And also, getting herself off.

"So pretty," Miyeon says into her temple, "with his cock fucking open your ass." And she has her fingers swirling, swirling, in little patterns around her cunt, grazing over a wet clit, like the way you're pounding Sana's ass and dismantling her whole consciousness is absolutely the most arousing thing ever, like Miyeon could stay and watch forever, like Sana's the most beautiful person in the world, and Miyeon would be right here with her every second - whispering praise in her ears - "god, babe, if I could, I would never pull his cock out. You take him so well, don't you? You're just made for it. He could stretch you out over and over and we could, you know - be fucked silly - no thinking - for, like, forever. All day long."

Sana's fingers claw, gripping at the bowl of the sink, while Miyeon has her hand glued to her clit, playing herself.

Miyeon doesn't wait - but she asks anyway - and of course: she's leaning up, in, nuzzling Sana and saying: "yes?"

"So," is all Sana gets out before gasping, because the sight, it's too much to not let yourself feel a little power drunk, and there is a sudden thrust that practically turns the poor girl's voice into a croak. "Yes. Fuck - fuck-"

You don't really have any clue where this is coming from but: "Miyeon, here, take this cock. Come get what's yours you fucking cocktease," and, whatever - who needs thoughts? Your girlfriend's already bent over the bathroom counter, your fingers holding the smooth curves of her ass apart, her beautiful body opened all up and pink.

Miyeon ruffles her hair as she finds the perfect angle, knees knocked up against the drawers, and she's got more oil spread onto her own puckered rim.

You know your girls: Sana is desperate for your cock, Miyeon lives to be used.

"I love how fucking cock-drunk she gets," Miyeon laughs, and then - the moment you've shifted from one gorgeous hole to the other - her mouth slackens, her eyelashes flutter: "shit. Holy - didn't really realize- oh wow."

"Kinda distracting?" you tease, knowing full well you're just going to lose your own words; watching a gorgeous ass swallow your cock; being told to keep giving and take, just as much: the warmth in your own core, your cunt, clenching hard - an aching pulse - the excitement coursing through your veins and this, this whole sensation of being connected: your bodies, all-encompassing and present, three whole units, joining at the hips, being forced back together-

"-you feel fucking, so tight. That's how the fucking joke goes, right?" Miyeon manages: to talk, still, even with a cock in her ass and your teeth and tongue painting pretty marks up the ridges of her spine.

Sana is catching her breath, brushing her fingers through her hair staring wistfully.

"Gives you two so much to talk about."

"Now don't even start- I really like it, alright."

Sana gives her ass the worst slap but your balls hit her cunt on the following thrust. Miyeon's so fucking tight you can barely breath. And her laughter tinkers off into a very pretty string of obscene moans from the way your cock spears into her, all at once: the flat, wet, throbbing sounds of a tight ass taking a thick cock without stopping, stretching and sliding with an increasing ease the longer it goes on for, until you're snapping your hips so far forward they're slapping Miyeon's ass and gripping, squeezing the round shape of her waist; until the movements are just you, the heavy weight of your balls against the hot wet skin between her legs.

And god damn it, she's got to start with:

"Forgot how much you stretch me, Jesus - baby, it is a really gorgeous cock you've got," - and that is when it hits, and her hands fist up, trying to grab at something, anything: "oh my god."

"You are such a whore," Sana laughs, but not unkind, because Miyeon can only grin in response, with your cock pounding out into the red-hot, clenched walls of her asshole. And then: a nice, hearty sigh.

You find yourself asking, almost by impulse, "isn't she, uh, tight. God."

And, fuck: you were thinking how insane it is you two ever managed without the third party. How now, not fucking Sana and Miyeon's glorious, matching asses side-by-side would drive you fucking crazy, and maybe that's why it's really the best news. How when your cock slips out of one ass, and slowly nuzzles into the other - how when you all three watch the pretty faces in the mirror twist and turn into a look of such pure fucking bliss - you just sort of-

"Oh."

That's Sana: with Miyeon pressed chest-first over the marble counter, Miyeon's cheek and nose flush against her face, their arms twisted, bodies crossed at the wrist and wrist - their skin shiny-red with exertion. They're the closest possible position: mirror images of the other, and - with the slightest push -

And it's pretty. It's fucking, you know.

"Perfect," you groan. "This is it. Look at you, the both of you - god - it's like. It's not normal to be as beautiful as the two of you are. Right. So, you know-"

"Hey," Sana is a little faster on the uptake when you're fucking Miyeon and her ass within an inch of dying, "your face. You look like you're close, are you close baby?"

The blood's starting to sing in your ears. Miyeon's forehead keeps bouncing into Sana's - their sweat, mixing, her skin peppered and blotchy pink from where she's gotten a little bit lost in her own head, her hips moving of their own accord, her body tensing, relaxing. You can read all of her movements, recognize her signals: the way she moans louder than usual, the way her cunt trembles against you, the way her ass squeezes, holds, lets go-

You pull out. Just to keep yourself from blowing, just to pull on your balls, to look and watch the perfect view. And Sana reaches back - a warm hand wrapped around you.

You feel her palm wrap around your cock, coaxing another serving of oil - like she knows just how rough it's going to be to start again.

"Just," she pants, leaning into Miyeon so you have to rut around to find your way back, "until the end."

There's something so pleasantly mind-numbing about the moment when you ease your cock into the sweet-soft ring of muscles again and she's just stretching and pulsing and grabbing all around you. The way you keep going: she's holding herself, giving her asshole a squeeze, a stretch - her lips kiss a sound onto the side of Miyeon's shoulder and she nods, gasps, breathes out heavy and pained, like the rest: a total fucking rush.

You watch Miyeon lean further, a beautiful shift of balance between the two. Her hands clamp around the sides of Sana's thighs for support, and the longer you pound into her, the deeper your cock sinks, the closer the pressure becomes as their heads turn in, looking to the same place, their foreheads knocking, and-

"Knees," you growl. You're holding your cock in your first - demanding: "Get on your fucking knees."

Sana smiles first. Then Miyeon. And when the lipstick smears against their cheeks, you don't have it in you anymore to think clearly. The line between your imagination and your fantasy is so blurred: you want their mouths moaning into eachother. You want Miyeon to clean the taste from Sana's lips. You want those cunts grinding, their clits making contact, and for one of them - fuck-

So: "I need the both of you."

And it's your name falling off of Sana's tongue when the tops of her shins hit the tile floor - she's kneeling, she's pulling Miyeon by her waist until the three of you have converged into this beautiful, glistening, open-mouthed trio. Sana kisses Miyeon hard while you cum all over the image: the contrast of their soft, wet, hot tongues against one another while your harsh grip pumps along your slick, throbbing length. It feels like a knot unraveling, a tension snapping loose, your cum landing on their cheekbones, their temples, between their lips - It's a long, slow roll through the valley of your abs - Miyeon licking into Sana's panting mouth and swiping through the streak of white you just pumped out into her fucking hair; the messy collision of lips, swallows, tongues; the faint, slow sounds, the slickness-

"Look," she breathes. You can hear the way their words hitch when their fingers hook eachother, guiding through the mess across their skin, dipping through the sticky cum, circling the plush pout of their bottom lips; and it's Sana that grabs Miyeon by the wrist, bringing her hand forward; sucking, running her mouth in a lazy path all across the width, "that's all, fuck, I need to. Wanna taste all of it."

You just groan.

Miyeon is slumped into the lacework of Sana's limbs, swapping the tastes between her tongue and the space of their breath; while her own thumb caresses the raw, stretched opening of her ass. Sana whispers things, incoherencies, into Miyeon's hair: kisses at her temple, strokes the muscles of Miyeon's back. Feeling how they shiver, they heave, they fall - exhausted and flushed in the heat of one-another's embrace. She licks the words across Miyeon's cheek and follows with her nose trailing Miyeon's jaw, and your cum's smearing a streak onto Miyeon's bottom lip, before their tongues have tangled themselves into another messy, well-fucked kind of collision.

"Good girls," you mumble, kissing Miyeon's knuckles, and helping Sana to her feet.

Your legs are a lot less shaky than either the two of theirs, but it's okay, you pick Miyeon up and set her on the sink; and then turn on the tap for the both of them, since they'd need a wash and some salve.

"Now, what?" says Sana. She's smiling; a washcloth at the ready; some dribble of soap from the bottle.

Miyeon gives her a smirk from over her shoulder, turning away just enough to flip her hair; the ends brush across her jaw. It's a cute little quirk of the eyebrow; the upward twinge to the corner of the lip; it's a motion that knows every muscle, every detail.

"Depends," says Miyeon, sharpening up her tone just the littlest bit, "the bath looks like a tight fit for all three of us but," and there it is - the mischievous glint; the curve in her hips, her mouth, and, of course - you notice the way her eyes drop to the stiffness of your cock. The way her voice purrs, all light, but a lot more intent: "Did you see the shower? It's absolutely gigantic."

"I saw the detachable head," Sana throws out. A teasing little comment, one you remember - that sends a pretty deep shudder down your stomach and thighs. Your cock twitches, hard and - okay, good thing Miyeon booked the room for a week and then some. The view is pretty great: watching your cock get rock-solid in under five seconds. Watching them kiss the same knowing look, sharing the private joke. Watching their hips swing, watching them slide the glass door: Miyeon in front and Sana from behind.

It's in unison that they both turn over their shoulder and ask, "won't you help us test it out?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be right there." You shake your head, "so thirsty," even though, you know you're equally to blame.

-

It's that tiny whisper of "don't look at me like you don't have cum in weird places either, hm?" that Sana gives you, while Miyeon is washing her hair, rubbing and sliding along the locks. "I'll help you with the spots that are hard to reach, come here."

It's that little, meaningful, mischievous curl in Miyeon's lip when the water's pouring, and your breath falls across her skin. The way her hands reach out for you, even when Sana takes her chin and plants a firm, messy kiss across her mouth. It's the same gesture Miyeon's making, using Sana's forearm for support. How she runs the palm of her other hand along the back of Sana's thighs, slipping and pressing forward to guide, nudge. She pulls Sana onto her toes, aligning their bodies. It's in the little laughs they share, the wet smacks of lips, the soft little hums they make when tongues slip over, into the open.

It's here too, that you first ever get them confused, just a momentary slip up of "Sana, could you grab the towel-" or some equivalent, when you glance away at the perfect wrong moment and you're left just a little puzzled, still mostly entranced by the sight of the steam on the glass and their fingertips drawing patterns into it as they lean in for another kiss, or a moan-

"Oh," Miyeon says, delighted, "I'm supposed to be her, right?"

They're fucking-

Sana is less enthused. "Stop. I do not. Am not."

- identical.

"Look, I didn't mean-"

Miyeon laughs to cut you off and skips the argument. She winks, and somehow that makes it worse.

It's there too, the look of regret when your fingertips curl into the skin of her breast, your thumbs a tease against the rigid nubs of her nipples and the texture of her pretty stomach. They don't realize how much you really love their matching expressions. So, they don't mind the mixup, and besides: you just follow Sana's guiding hands and let your lips ghost-kiss, so gently across Miyeon's thigh. It's impossible to imagine a version that isn't one and the other, the two of them, here, with you: sharing kisses, offering the gentlest, slowest exploration, teasing and tugging a gasp of a response.

"Hey," Miyeon muses, "does that mean you'll keep your cock warm in me once we go to bed and feed me a steady stream of ice cubes between all the sessions, mm?"

Sana raises her head in faux offense and drops back into the comfort of Miyeon's thighs. "Jeez-us christ," Sana huffs; "one day with him and she thinks she's me. Have mercy."

"She isn't?" you ask.

Sana sighs. "Um. Not even close."

Miyeon beams at the both of you. She even runs her fingers through Sana's hair, doting - affectionate. "She'll come around to the idea eventually, don't worry. Until then I'm more than happy to take on the role. It can't be that hard, yeah? Just to be all - naughty-sexy-sweet-oh, look, a surprise, i’m actually ready to get fucked six ways to sunday-"

-you get an eyeful of whatever they are doing, this time just, fucking-

Sana only says, "it'll have to take an exceptional amount of patience on both your parts."

-gorgeous, lewd, completely fucking filthy.

"I got a lot, babe."

The second Sana opens her mouth, it's followed with: "pfffht."

It's just, who wouldn't give them whatever they want? Whatever they ask? There's a list out there: no doubt the both of them, gagging. Throat-deep. In their little skirts. Panties. Naked and straddled, just, across their hands. One, maybe. Or both all the same, or still a different preference. One behind the other and taking turns. Something - and this is important, here:

"Look," they say, eyes wide up at you and blinking - on the same fucking beat no less, "you can trust us, okay?"

(Gentleman and distinguished scholars: the list, by the way, only ever gets longer.)

#sana smut #miyeon smut #twice smut #gidle smut #male reader smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

[voidpetrova]

quick rinse — jeremy gilbert x reader

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: swearing, suggestive content, reader is a cliché car girl — fluff

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synopsis: jeremy will do everything he can to keep an eye on the girl at the school's car wash

✧.*

under the scorching sun of a late spring afternoon, the grounds of mystic falls high school buzzed with anticipation. the annual charity car wash was in full swing, with colorful banners flapping in the breeze and clusters of students bustling around buckets, sponges, and hoses. the air was filled with the scent of soap and the distant laughter of teenagers eager to contribute to a good cause.

amidst the organized chaos, you stood beside a gleaming sedan, a determined grin on your face as you attacked a particularly stubborn smear on the windshield. dressed in a pair of faded denim shorts and a vibrant bikini top covered by a light, sheer tunic, you radiated energy that seemed to rival the sun itself. your friends worked on cars nearby, sharing laughter and shouts across the makeshift wash station.

across the lot, jeremy gilbert, a brooding yet attractive figure, leaned casually against a tree. His eyes were fixed on you as if you were the only person in the entire schoolyard. day after day, he had found himself inexplicably drawn to the car wash, captivated by your grace and determination as you tackled each vehicle with an unwavering enthusiasm.

he watched the way the sun glistened against your skin. you had one leg on the ground, the other bent against the surface of the car's hood as you scrubbed away at the windshield. he could feel his breath hitch as droplets of sweat and cold water dripped down your thigh, forming a small puddle under your feet.

“jeremy, seriously, you've been lurking here every day this week,” elena teased, sauntering over with a sly grin. “if you're going to stare, at least make it less obvious.”

jeremy tore his gaze away from you, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “i can't help it. she's just—she's something else, elena.”

she chuckled and bumped his shoulder playfully. “well, lucky for you, i happen to know her. that's (y/n), my friend from way back. she's just as amazing on the inside as she looks on the outside.”

jeremy's interest was piqued, and a mixture of nerves and excitement danced in his eyes. “do you think you could introduce me?”

elena's grin widened. “of course! in fact, why don't you help out at the car wash? it's for charity, after all.”

he hesitated, his gaze flickering back to you as you expertly wrung out a sponge. “i guess it wouldn't hurt to pitch in.”

a sudden heat crept up his cheeks as you peeled your tunic off, revealing the vibrant bikini top that had, unknowingly, become the star of his daydreams. he swallowed hard, his fingers unconsciously curling around the edge of the car's roof. his heart raced as you wiped a bead of sweat from your forehead, the gesture both casual and intimate.

“elena wasn't exaggerating when she said you were committed to this,” jeremy finally managed to say, his voice betraying a mix of admiration and bashfulness. you chuckled, shooting him a playful grin as you wrung out the sponge in your hand. “well, it's for a good cause,” you paused to meet his gaze, eyes twinkling as he stared at you. “you're elena's baby brother, aren't you?” the soft breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the scent of soap and the faintest hint of blooming flowers. he found himself unable to tear his eyes away as you worked, your every movement seeming to flow with an innate rhythm that held him captive.

jeremy's eyebrows shot up in pleasant surprise, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “yeah, that's me. the one and only.” you shook your head, still smiling. “i've heard so much about you from elena. she talks about you with this mix of exasperation and affection that's pretty endearing.”

his lips quirked up in a fond smile, his nerves slowly easing in the warmth of your presence. “she's something, isn't she?”

“she is.” you resumed your scrubbing, your attention split between the car and keremy. “so, what made you decide to join our little car wash brigade?”

jeremy leaned casually against the car, crossing his arms as he regarded you with a thoughtful expression. “well, besides the fact that i can't resist your car-washing skills, i wanted to do something different. and helping out for a good cause seemed like a great way to start.”

you raised an eyebrow playfully, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “oh, so you're saying my car-washing skills were the main draw here?”

he laughed, a genuine, unguarded sound that resonated through the air. “can you blame me? you make it look easy.”

as the sun continued to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over everything around you, the conversation flowed effortlessly. the transition from strangers to acquaintances felt natural, the ease of your interactions comforting and exciting all at once.

jeremy leaned in slightly, his eyes focused on a particularly intricate part of the car's engine. “it's a nice engine belt, huh.”

you couldn't help but smile at his attempt, appreciating his genuine interest. “close, jeremy. it's actually called the serpentine belt. it's responsible for driving various components of the engine, like the alternator and the power steering pump.”

he nodded, a mixture of fascination and curiosity evident on his face. “wow, you really know your stuff.”

you shrugged modestly, a faint blush rising to your cheeks. “i've been working on cars since i was twelve. my dad used to own a small auto shop, and he taught me a lot.”

his admiration was clear in his eyes, and a warm smile spread across his lips. “that's seriously impressive, (y/n). i mean, most people my age would probably struggle to change a tire.”

you chuckled, appreciating his honesty but shrugging nonetheless. “i don't like to flaunt my knowledge, guys don't really like it when you know more about cars than them.”

his gaze lingered on you, a newfound admiration dancing in his eyes. “it's really cool that you have that kind of knowledge. it's— attractive, honestly.” the sincerity in his words sent a delightful shiver down your spine, your heart skipping a beat. “well, thank you, jeremy. i'm glad you think so.”

as the conversation flowed, you found yourselves delving into the intricacies of car mechanics, each exchange strengthening the connection that was forming between you. the sun had now fully set, and the car wash area was illuminated by the soft glow of overhead lights, casting a cozy ambiance over the scene.

jeremy's curiosity and genuine interest in your passion were evident as he asked questions and soaked in your explanations. with each topic you covered, he seemed more captivated, more drawn to the depth of your knowledge and the enthusiasm with which you shared it.

as the night wore on, you both stood by the car, the faint hum of conversation and laughter from the other students providing a soothing backdrop. the world seemed to narrow down to the two of you, lost in the exchange of ideas and stories. and in that shared space of learning and connection, jeremy and you continued to build a foundation, one that held the promise of something more—a connection fueled by mutual admiration, respect, and a growing attraction that neither of you could deny.

as the car wash event wrapped up, the two of you found yourselves caught in the magnetic pull of continued conversation. the stars were starting to twinkle in the night sky, and the idea of extending the evening seemed natural. jeremy cleared his throat, his gaze a mixture of nerves and excitement.

“hey, (y/n), i was thinking— maybe we could grab a drink or something? there's this bar not too far from here.” you smiled, touched by his invitation. “that sounds like a great idea, jeremy.”

he fumbled for his phone in his pocket. “i can call us a cab if you'd like.”

you shook your head with a playful glint in your eyes. “actually, i've got something better. follow me.” jeremy didn't know what exactly he was expecting—a personal car, perhaps? maybe a limo or personal driver? curiosity lit up his face as you led him towards a sleek, parked yamaha motorcycle nearby. he looked at you in surprise, his eyebrows raised. “you ride a motorcycle?” you nodded, a grin playing on your lips. “oh, yeah. i'm a bit of a car and bike enthusiast.”

his astonishment was evident, and his eyes sparkled with a newfound intrigue. “you never cease to amaze me.”

after a few quick instructions, you handed jeremy a helmet and swung your leg over the motorcycle. he followed suit, fitting the helmet onto his head and securing it in place. you could feel his arms wrap around your waist, a warmth seeping through your clothing and sending a shiver down your spine.

“ready?” you asked, your voice carrying a mix of excitement and anticipation.

“absolutely,” he replied, his voice close to your ear, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.

with a gentle rev of the engine, you set off into the night. the wind rushed past you, the cool breeze making the air feel electric. as you navigated the streets with the precision and confidence of a seasoned rider, jeremy's grip around your waist tightened ever so slightly, his body pressed against yours.

the city lights created a vibrant tapestry as you weaved through the streets, the familiar rumble of the engine blending with the distant sounds of nightlife. the two of you communicated in a language of shared adventure, every twist and turn a testament to your unspoken connection.

at a red light, you stole a glance at Jeremy through the rearview mirror. his hair was tousled by the wind, his eyes alight with a mixture of excitement and exhilaration. it was a sight that stirred something within you—a sense of newfound intimacy, a shared moment that felt suspended in time.

when the light turned green, you accelerated smoothly, the motorcycle responding to your touch. the sensation of the open road, the freedom of the night, and the presence of jeremy behind you created a symphony of emotions that resonated in your heart.

as you approached the bar, you gradually slowed down, bringing the motorcycle to a graceful halt. jeremy dismounted, his movements fluid and graceful. removing his helmet, he looked at you with an expression that held a hint of awe.

“that was incredible, (y/n). i had no idea you were this extraordinary.”

you chuckled, a mixture of pride and affection in your voice. “well, now you know.”

hand in hand, you walked into the bar, the world around you seemingly aglow with the magic of the night. the romantic adventure you had just shared on the motorcycle had deepened the connection between you, creating a foundation for the evening ahead—an evening that held the promise of laughter, shared stories, and a budding romance that seemed to mirror the stars above, bright and infinite.

inside the cozy bar, the atmosphere buzzed with the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. you and jeremy settled into a corner booth, the dim lighting casting a warm, intimate ambiance. as you exchanged stories, it felt like a natural continuation of the connection you had built at the car wash earlier.

jeremy leaned back against the cushioned booth, his eyes locked onto yours as he listened intently to your tale. “so, you've been into cars since you were twelve, huh? that's impressive dedication.”

you nodded, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “yeah, like i said— my dad owned a small auto shop. he taught me everything i know about cars. we used to spend hours working on them together.”

jeremy's gaze softened, a hint of understanding in his eyes. “i can relate to that. my dad was into cars too. he used to tinker with them in our garage. i learned a lot just by watching him.”

a shared sense of loss lingered in the air, unspoken but understood. you fiddled with your fingers, letting the moment settle between you before continuing. “he passed away a few years ago. it was tough, but working on cars has always been a way for me to feel connected to him.”

jeremy's expression grew solemn, a mix of sympathy and camaraderie in his gaze. “i lost my parents too, in a car accident. it's been hard trying to move forward without them.”

“i'm so sorry to hear that,” you said softly, reaching across the table to place a reassuring hand on his. “losing a parent is something you can't replace. but maybe we can find a way to honor their memories by carrying on their passions.”

he gave you a small, appreciative smile. “yeah, i'd like that. you know, maybe you can teach me a thing or two about cars. it would be nice to feel that connection again.” you returned his smile, a warm spark of enthusiasm igniting within you. “absolutely. i'd be happy to help you learn.”

the conversation flowed seamlessly as you talked about cars, shared memories, and traded anecdotes about your families. as the night wore on, jeremy's curiosity about your preferences took a playful turn. “what can i get you to drink?”

you leaned back, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “surprise me.”

he chuckled, looking amused by your response. “alright, how about a cocktail?”

you tilted your head in consideration before shaking it. “actually, i'll have a beer.”

his eyebrows lifted in surprise. “a beer? i didn't see that coming.”

you grinned, your expression unapologetic. “gotta keep you on your toes, right?” the corners of his lips curled upwards in an affectionate smile. “you certainly have a way of doing that.”

as jeremy headed to the bar to fetch your drinks, you watched him move through the crowd with an air of newfound familiarity. the warmth that had blossomed between you felt like a promise of something more—something built on shared experiences, mutual understanding, and the undeniable attraction that had drawn you together.

as he returned to the table, the clinking of glasses marked the continuation of your evening together. the laughter and stories flowed, creating a tapestry of connection that seemed to erase the boundaries of time and space. the bar's ambiance seemed to echo the sentiment, with its soft lighting and cozy atmosphere cocooning the two of you in a world of your own.

as the night deepened, you couldn't help but reflect on how this chance meeting at the charity car wash had unfolded into something far more significant. the shared passion for cars had been the catalyst, but it was the genuine connection that had truly set the stage for the enchanting evening.

with every glance, every laugh, and every story shared, it became clear that your encounter with jeremy was a turning point—a moment that held the promise of a new chapter in both of your lives. and as you raised your glasses in a silent toast to the future, you knew that the stars above weren't the only things shimmering with potential that night.

under the bright morning sun, jeremy awoke with a sense of anticipation in his chest. the golden rays filtered through his curtains, casting warm patterns of light on his bedroom walls. stretching languidly, he let out a contented sigh, his mind immediately wandering back to the previous day's interactions.

as he made his way downstairs, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the distant sounds of chirping birds. the comfortable hum of morning surrounded him, creating a sense of coziness that wrapped around his senses like a familiar embrace.

elena was already in the kitchen, her brows furrowed in concentration as she stared at her phone screen. her lips curved into a smile as her little brother entered the room. “good morning, sleepyhead.”

he returned her smile, his curiosity piqued by the look on her face. “hey, what's got you so engrossed? elena let out a half-amused, half-frustrated sigh. “my car's acting up. it just won't start.”

a spark of realization lit up jeremy's eyes. “wait, didn't you use it to drive back home last night?”

elena nodded, her frustration palpable. “yeah, and now it's completely dead. i don't know what's wrong with it.”

jeremy's mind immediately leapt to a solution. “you know, I think I might know someone who can help.”

elena's eyebrow arched inquisitively. “oh, do tell. who's this mysterious someone?”

jeremy's cheeks tinged pink as he hesitated, his voice a touch uncertain. “your friend, (y/n)? i think she's really knowledgeable about cars. maybe she can figure out what's going on.”

elena's lips curled into a knowing smile. “ah, i see. you're hoping to impress her, aren't you?”

jeremy's blush deepened, but he couldn't deny it. “well, she seems to know a lot about cars. it's worth a shot.”

elena chuckled, her gaze filled with mischief. “alright, go ahead and call her then.”

taking a deep breath, jeremy dialed your number. after a few rings, you answered, your voice carrying a sense of energy even through the phone.

“hey, jer. what's going on?”

he cleared his throat, the nervousness returning. “hey, (y/n). i was wondering if you could help us out. my sister's car broke down, and i thought maybe you could take a look at it?” there was a brief pause before your voice chimed in again, this time laced with enthusiasm. “of course, i'd be happy to help. where's the car?”

as jeremy provided the address, he couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. he hung up the phone with a mix of hope and anticipation, unsure of what the day would bring but eager to spend more time with you.

when you arrived at elena's place, jeremy's heartbeat quickened as he caught sight of you stepping out of your car. dressed in a snug tank top and shorts, you looked effortlessly confident, a toolbox in hand, and an aura of readiness surrounding you. your hair was half-up and half-clipped back, a few front strands dancing in the gentle breeze.

as you approached elena's car, your attention was fully captured by the task at hand. jeremy watched in awe as you bent over the open hood, your fingers deftly navigating the engine components. you explained each step with a mix of concentration and clarity, making it easy for elena and him to follow along.

“—so, it looks like this wire right here came loose, which is causing a disruption in the ignition system,” you explained, your tone informative yet approachable.

elena nodded, genuinely impressed. “wow, you really know your stuff.”

jeremy found himself nodding in agreement, his admiration growing with each passing moment. your expertise was matched only by your ability to explain complex concepts in a way that was easily understandable—a rare combination that only deepened his intrigue. after a few minutes of focused work, you stood up, wiping your hands on a rag. “there we go, that should do it.”

elena eagerly hopped into the driver's seat and attempted to start the car. a victorious smile crossed her face as the engine roared to life.

“thank you so much, (y/n)! you're a lifesaver,” elena exclaimed, her gratitude evident.

you smiled warmly. “no problem, happy to help.”

as you turned to leave, jeremy's heart raced with a mixture of excitement and something more. “hey, (y/n), hold on a sec.”

you turned back, your gaze curious. “yeah?”

he cleared his throat, his voice a touch nervous. “um, would you maybe want to grab dinner with me sometime? you know, as a thank you for helping with the car?”

a playful smile danced on your lips, and you stepped closer. “well, that depends. are you asking me out on a date?”

jeremy felt a rush of anticipation as he met your gaze. “yeah, i am.”

you leaned in, your voice softening to a whisper. “well, then, i think i'd like that.”

in a heartbeat, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a gentle yet electrifying kiss. the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you connected by a magnetic pull that was impossible to resist.

when you finally pulled away, your eyes locked onto each other's, a shared warmth and excitement in the air. jeremy couldn't help but feel that this moment was like a scene from a movie—a serendipitous encounter that had blossomed into something far more significant.

with a final, lingering look, you stepped back, promising to text him about the details of your dinner. jeremy watched you go with a sense of wonder, realizing that what had started as a chance meeting at a charity car wash had turned into a life-altering connection—one that held the promise of shared laughter, deep conversations, and a romance that had ignited unexpectedly but brilliantly.

as he stood there, watching you disappear from view, he couldn't help but feel that the road of life had taken an unforeseen turn—one that had led him straight to you, a car enthusiast who had not only fixed his sister's car but had also fixed something within his own heart. and as he looked to the future, he was eager to see where this newfound connection would take him.

#tvd #tvdu #the vampire diaries #legacies #the originals #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the vampire diaries fluff #the vampire diaries angst #the vampire diaries smut #jeremy gilbert #jeremy x reader #jeremy gilbert x reader #jeremy gilbert x reader smut #jeremy gilbert fluff #jeremy gilbert smut #jeremy gilbert angst

[carefulfears]

Top 5 Scully moments! 💗

off the top of my head <3 you’re getting 8 sorry

(i left off triangle because we already talked about it today but in my heart it truly is top 3)

1/ clyde bruckman’s final repose

when the hotel scene opens on her sitting criss-cross on the bed with playing cards and you just hear her finish up explaining the plot of moby dick to bruckman and connecting it thematically to hamlet…i can hardly contain myself. she was EXPLAINING THE PLOT OF MOBY DICK to the psychic.

and then after all her talk, her shift is over, and before leaving she leans in close and sighs and asks, “alright. so how do i die?” shh don’t tell mulder she asked ❤️

(and his tender answer: “you don’t.” immortality in reciprocated kindness.)

2/ beyond the sea

giving up the chance to know what her father’s last message to her was, and saying that she already knows what he wanted to tell her.

“he was my father.”

she seemed so disappointed and confused in the beginning, when her mother gave that same response (“he was your father”) to her questions of if he was proud of her. it’s not enough evidence, that someone was a father, to really know the things she was doubting.

but in the end, when she tears up and whispers her answer, it’s clear. it’s not that he was a father, and therefore loved and was proud of his children, because that’s what fathers do. he was her father. and she knows how he felt and what he wanted to tell her because she knows him, and she knows the relationship that they had, and she knows how much he loved her.

it’s that kind of implicit understanding that sets her apart, both from mulder and in the world.

(additionally: bursting into boggs’ cell and screaming at him that if mulder dies she will gas him out of this life herself and no one will stop her. she is 5 feet 2 inches of ferocious love.)

3/ memento mori

her letter. god, i make fun of her for it but god does it say so much. she was dying and she was completely alone and she was in that bed every single day writing, writing to him. begging forgiveness, asking for grace, pleading to be seen.

she knows herself so intimately and so completely, and she knows the world she lives in so fully, and she loves it and she loves him so deeply.

she didn’t even want him to read it, it was enough just that it existed, that it was hers and it was real.

4/ detour + william

singing to mulder in the woods, and then years later singing that same song to their baby. she has memorized everything. every moment is so important, so worth passing along.

(“that’s the other thing you’ve given me, mulder, courage…and i hope that’s a gift i can pass on.”)

5/ irresistible

there’s something so resonant and intimate about her fear in this episode. both her lingering fear in the trauma of bearing witness to this kind of brutalization, but also her fear of vulnerability. the way she does everything right, she does everything that you’re supposed to do: she takes a step back, and goes where she’s more useful. she goes to therapy. she handles it herself, like the good captain’s daughter. like she says, it is her job to deal with these things.

she doesn’t just shut down and avoid it, she’s conscious; she’s trying to cope in the way that she’s comfortable.

and it still just isn’t enough. until that moment she says once more that she is fine, and mulder tips her chin so that she has to look at him. and she just breaks down sobbing the moment she sees his face, grabs onto him and weeps into his chest.

she has “always been the strong one,” she did not want him to know that this case was getting to her, but ultimately, there was no way to survive it without facing it.

(thinking of 23+ years later in a motel, the way she creeps into his room and says the case is really bothering her, ducks under his covers.)

6/ ghouli

when the windmill snowglobe, the one thing that she has from her son’s life, breaks outside the hospital. and the person she bumped into (who turns out to have actually been jackson in disguise) apologizes, and she just smiles sweetly and says, “no, it’s my fault. it’s okay.”

she has no idea how important that moment is, she has no idea that this stranger is secretly her baby, noticing the things she’s holding onto from him…and she’s so understanding and gracious in impossible circumstances anyway.

that’s what gives her (and mulder) that miracle moment in the end of the episode, of getting to see jackson. (that’s immortality in reciprocated kindness)

7/ fight the future

my absolute favorite favorite favorite moment of the movie: mulder and scully make it out of the vent. they’re both collapsed on the ground in antarctica. scully has just been revived after she stopped breathing, she’s passing out…and the spaceship comes out of the ice.

and mulder is looking up at the ship with the most joyful heart-melting grin and wonder, and he says “scully. you gotta see this.” (the exact same thing he said 5 years earlier on their second case)

and she whispers, “i see it.”

it’s so special.

and then, bless his heart, mulder’s recently-shot-in-the-head exhausted ass just fully passes out on the spot.

and she sits herself up and grabs him and pulls him over to her and just holds onto him. they’re alive, and she saw it, and she barely has anything left in her at all but she finds enough for both of them.

honorable mention: “shut up, mulder. i’m playing baseball.” <3 girls when they quietly beg the person they love to invest in something “on this planet” and they understand when that first step is being offered to them, they do not need it explained.

it’s so reminiscent of a moment that almost made this list, when mulder gives her the apollo 11 keychain for her birthday, and they’re interrupted before he can tell her why. and in the end, looking up at the stars, she tells him that she thinks she knows. she tells him that this novelty keychain is about “extraordinary moments” and history leaping forward and how you “must dare to dream” and how far perseverance and teamwork can take you but how “no one gets there alone” and remembering sacrifice and achievement.

and he’s just silently staring at her like…like she’s everything and she’s dying and it’s completely unimaginable. like he knows, in that moment.

she sees so much in him, without explanation.

#thanks for the ask i love doing these so much #i love to just ruminate on what i Love and what touches me in this story #i could keep going on and on #about both of them #bc also ‘never again’ obviously and ‘ebe’ and ‘lost art of forehead sweat’ and so many others i took off #there’s so much to her character that is so important to me that i didn’t even touch on here #but that’s a testament to how rich these characters are #asks

[the-hexfiles]

Grace (Crosshair x Fem!OC)

Chapter Three: Slice of Life

Rating: Explicit!

Content: Fluff and smut! First-Person Narrative, with rarely-named OC (can be read as x reader if so desired) Post-empire Crosshair. More CatDad!Crosshair/Domestic!Crosshair. Exactly what the title is, a little slice of life.

Wordcount: ~3k

A/N: I barely proofread this smut so if you see errors, dm me. No Beta reader this chapter sooooooooooooo....

If you skipped Ch2 because you wanted to avoid the TW or you just hated it? (idk) Crosshair and Cerri adopted a tooka together. The tooka's name is Kit but Crosshair refers to her as their 'baby' around his brothers, this fic picks up directly from there.

Soundtrack: Strawberry Blonde - chloe moriondo

Previously...

Chapter One: Dive Bar...

“There’s a baby?” Hunter asked nervously.

“No–” I tried to cut in, but everyone started talking over each other:

“Keep your ears to yourself,” Crosshair hissed at his brother.

“There’s gonna be a baby?!” Omega jumped up and down excitedly, patting my stomach. Crosshair started to sweat a little, a flush coming to his cheeks.

“No, kid–” Crosshair started to speak but was interrupted by Wrecker bolting out of his seat to wrap his arms around me and lift me up by my waist, laughing: “Oh yeah! I’m gonna be the favorite uncle!”

“Wrecker!” Hunter and Echo both shouted, bolting up out of their chairs at the dining table. “Don’t lift her by the waist!” Echo added on.

“I’m not–” Before I could finish, a pillow came flying by my head, hitting Wrecker in the face. I looked to the couch and Crosshair had another pillow in his other hand, at the ready. “Put the girlfriend and tooka down. Now,” he growled.

“I had the assumption that Kit was the ‘baby’–” Tech shifted his goggles, but didn’t look up from his data pad.

“Kit is the baby! There’s no human baby!” I laughed. Omega’s giddiness turned to a playful pout. Wrecker put me down, looking slightly disappointed.

“Not yet anyway. No form of birth control is 100 percent and given how frequently I assume–” Tech stopped speaking to dodge the pillow Crosshair threw at him. After Crosshair and Hunter exchanged a few quips about “little Crosshairs,” everyone sat down around the caf table. Echo was leaving the next day, so most of us tried to enjoy each other's company before he left; talking and playing card games until Omega fell asleep in my lap, cuddling Kit. Crosshair sat on the floor between my feet silently while his brothers and I chatted.

I said goodnight to Hunter and the others, while Crosshair tucked Kit into her little bed. After they left, I laid out across the loveseat, and Crosshair came back out and laid down on top of me. I rubbed his back in silence, occasionally kissing his temple or forehead, depending on how his head was resting on my chest. He fell asleep after a few minutes, and I carefully reached behind my head for my book. He mumbled something, then twitched slightly. I held my book with one hand and rubbed his back with the other and he settled back into a deep sleep.

A few hours later, Kit cried from the bedroom and he startled awake, looking around for a moment. “It’s alright, I’ll get her,” I said, still rubbing his back and finishing my page. He crawled off of me and sat on the edge of the couch. I reached for him and he took my hand and kissed the palm before he stood up, leading me into the bedroom. I walked over to his side of the bed but he slipped in front of me and gently bumped me onto the bed with his hips, picking up Kit himself. He gave her a gentle kiss on her head, then spoke: “I know, she’s so slow.” I kicked out my legs to tap his shin but he dodged my playful attack. I stripped and crawled under the covers, as he took Kit into the kitchen to prepare a bottle for her.

I watched them from the bed, their silhouettes dimly lit from the little kitchen light: He was holding the little wriggling, whining form against his chest, working with the other hand to prep the formula and waiting for it to heat up. As he waited, he gave her a little kiss to the top of her head, making her cry louder from the contact. “Working on it, ad'ika,” he said. He leaned against the counter as he fed her, watching her lovingly. When she finished, he cleaned her up and brought her back into the room, tucking her back into her bed. He stripped off his clothes, picked up my clothes off the floor and dropped them in the hamper. When he started to curl back up into bed, he saw me smiling at him. “What?” He asked, adjusting his pillows. I shook my head and reached out to him. He raised an eyebrow at me, then laid down on his back next to me, pulling me into his side.

We laid in silence for a while. I looked up at him, and saw he was still awake. I tapped on his chest to get his attention: “Do you want kids?” I asked, looking up at him.

He let out a curt huff and turned his face away from me to look up at the ceiling.

I laughed lightly, “Yeah, that’s the response I expected.” I looked back at my hand, still tracing little mindless patterns on his skin.

He laid there looking up at the ceiling, rubbing my side. After a few minutes he rolled over and tangled his legs with mine, holding me close with both arms. “Ask me again once I’ve adjusted to the fact that I'm alive.” He leaned back slightly to look at me, “Do you want kids?”

“Not sure,” I said as I laid my hand flat against his chest to feel the hard thump of his heartbeat.

“Yes you are,” he said, kissing my forehead then resting his chin on top of my head. “You’re not your mother, Cerri. You’ll be fine.”

“You make an adorable father,” I looked up at him smiling.

“The one time I held a human baby I made him cry.”

“You woke him up and scared him.” I said, laughing at the memory: Crosshair walking out of the nursery holding my friend’s crying baby with a deep frown. He refused to touch the baby the rest of the night.

“He’s a little older now, I’m sure you two will get along fine. And your own baby won’t be afraid of you, so don’t use Solan as a reference.”

I laid my arm across his waist and buried my face into his chest, feeling him breathe. He started to rub my back again but after a few minutes, his breathing deepened and slowed; his arms holding me close to his chest.

I woke up again a few hours later. I kissed him twice but he was sound asleep, so I eased out of bed and took Kit with me. After feeding her, I got dressed, tucking her between my breasts in the layers of my kimono-style shirt. I made breakfast, leaving some aside for Crosshair when he woke up, then busied myself around the house. It was the afternoon when he shuffled out of the bedroom half asleep. He came up behind me while I was curled up on the couch on my datapad. He leaned over the back of the loveseat and kissed me deeply, sneaking a hand into my shirt. I laughed against his lips when I heard Kit cry, her nap disturbed by a prying hand. When he pulled away, I called him a thief as he cuddled Kit close to his bare chest and walked into the kitchen.

We spent a few hours together: went for a swim, and picked up a few things at the market. When we got back home, Crosshair settled into the loveseat while I put things away. I set aside some of his work clothes I’d washed that morning, and took care of Kit. When I walked over to him, he was laying down with his eyes closed. I leaned down to steal a light kiss as I walked by, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me to lay down on top of him. Since his first night with me, naps on the loveseat before work became a little ritual: His long legs draped over the arm of the loveseat while I laid on top of him. It was the only rest either of us got that was usually free of nightmares.

I stayed up reading while I waited for him to get off work. He commed when he left, so I walked outside and waited for him to walk up the path to my house. When he got there he pulled me into a hug and gave me a kiss on the top of my head before we walked inside together. After taking off his boots, he immediately walked to where I had Kit snuggled in her blanket on the loveseat and held her close. He gave me a quick summary of his shift before I could ask how his night was.

After feeding Kit, he brought her into the bedroom and tucked her into her little bed before walking back out and laying across the loveseat. I crawled into his lap, straddling him and tucking my face into the curve of his neck. My hands made their way under his shirt, running my nails gently over his skin. He chuckled softly and pulled my hair away from my neck, kissing it gently.

“You sure?” he whispered, kissing my hairline. “Last few days have been rough.”

I nodded, “It’s been a while, I don’t want you feeling…”  I rolled my hips against him again, a hardness growing in his pants beneath me, “Neglected.”

“If I needed it, I could have gotten myself off,” He gently pulled my head away so he could look at me, “You’re not responsible for my pleasure, certainly not at the expense of your comfort.”

I sat up fully, still straddling his hips, “I want this.”

He tilted his head a little and gave me a skeptical look. I sighed and rolled my eyes, “How many days since the first time we were intimate?”

“Little over 300 rotations,” he said as he rested both his hands on my thighs.

“And I’ve always been honest with you about when I do and don’t want something.” I kissed his nose. “And right now,” I kissed his chin. “I want you,” I whispered against his lips before kissing them.

“As my princess desires then,” he said, smirking and started to sit up. I slipped from his grasp and ran towards the bedroom giggling but he caught up to me in a few long strides and grabbed my wrist. He pulled me into him and walked me backwards towards the wall between the bedroom and refresher door. When my back hit the wall, his lips met mine. He lifted me up by my ass to bring my face level to his, my legs wrapped around his waist, his fingers digging into my thighs, tongues in each other's mouths. He pulled away long enough to dip down to my collar bone and kiss up my neck behind my ear. He pressed into my core, giving a teasing amount of pressure. I tilted my head back in a low moan, and I felt him smirk into my skin. He carried me into the bedroom and tossed me onto the bed.

We both completely stripped, clothes scattered on the floor around the bed. I stretched out across the bed once naked, and caught Crosshair staring down at me with a small smile. I sat up and grabbed his wrist to pull him on top of me. He settled between my legs, and went back to kissing my neck, leaning on his left elbow and letting his right hand slide painfully slowly, down to my hips. He teased my inner thighs, hip bones, everywhere but exactly where I wanted him as we made out. A few times he briefly ghosted over my folds, but continued teasing around them. I could feel myself starting to drip on the bed and got impatient. I pushed him off of me and onto his back, pinning his arms on either side of his head. I directed him to rest his head on his hands and he skeptically went along with my orders. It was my turn to tease. I gently ran my nails across his skin as I slowly kissed down his body, letting my wet folds graze across his length on occasion making him inhale sharply. I teased his nipples before making my way down his abs, kissing all the way down, leaving goosebumps all along his skin where my lips and fingers met his skin. I rested his thighs on my shoulders as I kissed everywhere but his cock. Licking up his thighs to his hip bones, kissing all around the base, taking his balls in his mouth, everything but what I knew he wanted. He could have moved his hands out from behind his head, pulled my hair, shoved my face to his cock, but didn’t. Just laid there moaning, shifting his hips whenever I tickled him slightly, breathing hard, eyes closed, with a deep flush across his face. I kissed back up his body, giving every scar a gentle kiss on my way up. I made my way back up to his neck, my pussy just an inch away from his throbbing length. I decided I’d teased him enough and finally relented, sliding my wet folds along his cock. He gasped followed by an absolutely sinful groan, grabbing my hips desperately. After teasing my clit a few times with the head of his cock, I finally slid him fully inside me. I wasted no time, his grip pacing how fast and hard he wanted me to come down on him. His muscles tensed beneath me, his panting got heavier, his grip tighter, the longer I rode him. I was absolutely drunk on the look on his face, flushed and blissed out, eyes closed. But then he stopped, shoving me down on his cock, and taking a second to breathe before he opened his eyes and shifted beneath me to reach the drawer of my nightstand. He felt around in my drawer before getting annoyed and sitting up, still keeping me firmly planted on his cock.

“I could help you if you told me what you were looking for,” I laughed when his face contorted into a more annoyed expression.

“If I’m going over, you’re coming with me this time dammit.”

“Did not take you for puns,” I said as I leaned over to look in the drawer. His hand landed on my little vibrator. “How did you know that was in there?” I asked, a little embarrassed.

“I know where all your toys are,” he said with a mischievous smirk and I shoved him back down onto the bed. “Not my fault you have shitty hiding places.”

He clicked the toy on and settled it on my clit. I threw my head back with a gasp, instinctively shifting myself so it pressed exactly where I wanted it. I felt my walls clench around his cock and he moaned. He sat back up, holding me close to him with one arm, and holding my toy against me with the other. Between him being inside me and the vibrations on my clit I didn’t last long, grinding against him as I came, forehead resting against his shoulder. He let out a breathy “fuck,” as he came himself, leaning his head against mine. After a moment of overstimulation, I took the toy from his hand and turned it off, throwing it somewhere on his side of the bed but it bounced off and there was a light thump followed by a quiet and angry meow. I gasped and Crosshair gave a small, breathless laugh. I tried to stifle any further laughter but couldn’t stop myself when Crosshair started laughing more openly himself, throwing himself back onto the bed. I carefully removed him from inside me and leaned over the edge of the bed to check on Kit. He gave my ass a sharp smack and I squealed, throwing him a dirty look from over my shoulder. He climbed on top of me, kissing my shoulder and hairline before moving Kit’s blanket to take a peek at her.

“You hit our daughter with a sex toy and now you’re dripping on my side of the bed,” he said as he slid off of me, standing on the edge of the bed. I started to ask what he was going to do about it before he grabbed my ankles and pulled me to the edge of the bed. He picked me up by my waist and carried me into the refresher to get cleaned up. When we were out of the shower, the sun was turning the horizon a light gray. I curled up on my side of the bed and Crosshair shoved himself as close to me as possible, complaining of a “wet spot” on his side of the comforter. I felt around but didn’t feel anything and smiled. He just wanted his post-orgasm cuddles.

I woke up when I almost fell off the bed, Crosshair curled up into my back, arms wrapped around me and one leg draped over my hips. His breathing was soft on the back of my neck. Kit was crying softly from her little bed and I started to try to peel off Crosshair’s limbs so I could get out of bed. “No,” was all he mumbled as he pulled me closer into him.

“She needs to eat,” I whispered, still trying to undo his now death grip on my body.

“I fed her two hours ago, she’s fine.” He kissed the back of my head, “Stop moving.”

“She’s crying–”

“She’s needy.”

“So are you this morning, sir.”

He pinched my waist and I let out a little squeak.  “If I get her, will you shut up and go back to sleep?” he asked.

“Hmm. Maybe?”

He rolled over and picked up Kit from her bed and handed her to me. I cuddled her close to my neck, still laying on my side. Crosshair resumed his position, now cuddling the both of us.

“Are you two happy now?”

Kit was purring, happily making biscuits against his arm. He kissed the back of my head and gave Kit a little scratch under her chin.

“Very happy. Are you happy now?”

He shushed me. It wasn’t long before the three of us fell back to sleep.

************************************************************************

Next...

Taglist: @stunkbiggu

#bad batch crosshair #bad batch fanfic #bad batch x reader #crosshair x oc #tbb crosshair x reader #the bad batch x reader smut #tbb x reader #crosshair fanfiction #crosshair #the bad batch #tbb crosshair x oc #tbb crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #crosshair smut #bad batch x oc #bad batch smut #spicy clones #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars smut #clone smut #crosshair x

[lost-girl-2021]

Do have any head cannons for the Days into Decades characters?

I have a couple that I've (mostly) worked into the story, but here're some random thoughts.

KIRI

Kiri is low-key a drug dealer. Like, not in a shady way, just 'in the spirit of enlightenment' sort of way. She started smoking maybe a year or two before, the summer before she started high school, and she may or may not have a small garden growing under her conveniently high bed.

She wants to be a doctor, but wants to specialize in homeopathic/alternative medicines. She volunteers/interns as a candy striper type of thing at the hospital where her mom works and enjoys spending time at the hospital. However, she also has seen the dangers of painkillers and their addictive properties, which spurred her interest in alternative medicine.

She wants to be a doctors because of her mom, both of them. Growing up, she saw Neytiri as a hero, saving lives and curing people. When she was old enough to understand what happened to Grace (I think I said she was dead-dead in this one, I don't remember anymore) it inspired her to become a doctor even more. Because, while her mother was more of a scientist than a healer, she was working to help people just like Neytiri. Both of them are her heroes and she is eager to be like them.

NETEYAM

Neteyam is definitely a studier. He's very strict with himself when it comes to schoolwork (and pretty much everything). He skipped a grade in school, not just because he's super smart, but because he's been so dedicated to his studies, to the point where he'd been bumped up a grade in junior high.

He's also a private person. He doesn't really hide anything from his friends and family, so much as he just doesn't feel the need to share every little thing. He's pretty self-reliant and he kind of acts like a self-cleaning oven sometimes. He does everything and takes care of himself in every way, which sometimes brings to him shutting people out on accident. Because, he doesn't need anyone or anything and he has to remember that other people don't run at 100% capacity like he seems to.

Probably will have a small mental breakdown sometime during his first semester at college. Because, even though he's been preparing for this for years, he's never been away from his family for so long and he misses home and he just needs a break. Probably cries as soon as he gets home for winter break, freaking out absolutely everyone. His mom is convinced he's injured, his dad flat out carries him to a couch or his bed, his siblings are running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

He dates. I'm not saying Neteyam is a player or anything, but contrary to his sibling's (and Spider's) belief, he dates. He's had two girlfriends, one no more than a middle school fling. He's currently back with his second girlfriend in Days Into Decades, but they're keeping it casual, to say the least. She kind of bossy, which works out well because he needs to learn how to relax and nobody else can talk him away from studying.

LO'AK

My dude Lo'ak is kind of crazy. Like, not crazy, but he's just chaotic as fuck. Probably has ADHD, and definitely needs someone to tell him he's going too far sometimes. That's part of why him and Tsireya work so well. She's calm where he's energetic and he's spontaneous where she's detail-oriented. Yin and Yang style.

Lo'ak feels like the odd one out in his family, sometimes. Unlike in canon, he's not particularly different species-wise ig, but he's constantly comparing himself to his siblings. It feels like everyone has there place except him. Neteyam is going to become an officer in the military or something and Lo'ak knows he doesn't have the discipline for all of that. Kiri is basically a doctor in her own right at this point, always glued to their mother's side when they aren't at school. Tuk is the baby, the apple of her parent's eye. She can do no wrong. And, in the past couple of years, Lo'ak feels like all he can do is wrong.

Spider makes him feel better, when they're together. They have the most in common out of everyone, between skating and music (and weed). When Spider moved, it hit him especially hard, because they hadn't talked in forever and just as they repaired their friendship, he was gone.

I like the idea that Lo'ak used to sneak over when he was mad at his parents, or when he knew Spider had a particularly shitty day. The McGregor's had a gazillion guest rooms, but Lo'ak would stay with Spider, either crashing on the bean bag or ending up sprawled on the bed next to Spider (100% platonically, FYI). Usually he'd wake up with hair or a foot in his face, but it was usually worth it.

TUK

Tuk is just vibing in this AU. She goes to elementary school and then her dad picks her up and they usually get ice cream or go to the library for an hour or so until her siblings get out of school. Every drawing goes on the fridge.

Probably one of those kids who collects cool bugs and then tries to figure out what kind they are. Butterflies too. She tried to catch a bird once, but it didn't work out well. She got to hold a baby chick once though and she didn't stop talking about it for at least two weeks.

Sees Spider as just another one of her brothers, even if he doesn't live with them. Before he went to live with Quaritch, he'd ride with them to school every day and he'd been around constantly for as long as Tuk can remember. She doesn't even question it, just accepts it as a fact. Cause, Kiri has a birth mom and then a mom-mom and she's still Tuk's sister, so obviously it works the same with Spider.

NEYTIRI

Neytiri is like Cristina Yang plus a strong family drive. Badass, and cutthroat when she needs to be. All the new doctors/nurses/staff are surprised as fuck when scary Dr. Sully shows up with an actual ray of sunshine named Kiri, who's the scariest doctor's daughter. (Kiri thinks this is very funny and feeds into the rumor mill of how scary her mom is).

She works long hours, but they're steady and after so long at the hospital she's managed to secure weekends off for the most part. Her shifts are 48 hours, but she usually manages to go home for an hour or two to say goodnight to her children or have dinner with them.

JAKE

Works Private Security now that he's out of the army. Usually a goofy guy, full of dad jokes and shit, but when it comes to serious stuff it's a complete switch. The kids all know that mom's the strict one, but Dad's the one they don't want to get mad. He'll ground someone for a whole week just for cursing. Lo'ak once shoplifted when he was twelve and he lost his skateboard for the summer.

PTA dad. Knows all the events, has a whole calender that's color-coded and everything. Knows other parents by first names. He treats it like a very important job. (All the other PTA moms are jealous of Neytiri, some of the school bs is just so boring, they'd love husbands who wanted to take over the bake sale).

SPIDER

Has and will be grouped in with the Sully kids. Not even just by Jake and Neytiri, but the school and people around town. Like, the school faculty know he's a foster kid and they just kind of assume he's the Sully's foster kid. So do classmates who always see them together, carpooling and hanging out and stuff. Like, some of them have been going to school together since kindergarten, it's just kind of an unspoken acknowledgment.

Jake and Neytiri have definitely punished him before (usually when he does something stupid alongside one of their kids and he's caught with them). He's had his skateboard taken, been put in time-outs, etc. Mostly when he was younger and fully a wild child. One time jake saw him at a coffee shop when he was supposed to be in school and went full truant officer on him.

#avatar #atwow spider #spider avatar #spider #miles spider socorro #avatar fanfiction #avatar way of water #atwow fanfiction #atwow #days into decades

[gloxina111]

† Mrs. Munson †

-> PAIRING┆Fem Reader x Eddie Munson

-> CAUTION ┆Fluff - Marriage - Pregnancy

-> WORD COUNT ┆815

SORRY FOR ANY SPELLING MISTAKES!

______________________________________________________________

You had met Eddie at a local gig when you both were sixteen, shortly after meeting him you caught feelings for him and his eccentric personality. Once the two of you confessed to each other, you kept your relationship under wraps until your mother walked in on you helping Eddie sneak in through your window. Your parents were pretty chill about the whole situation all they asked was for Eddie to start using the front door so he doesn't get hurt well sneaking through your window.

It had been five years since then and now you were married and with a baby on the way. Even with all of your family's wealth and the wealth you had accumulated in inheritance and in stock you still went to university for two years to get your doctorate in business after you had graduated high school you said your goodbyes to your family and Eddie.

The summer you had gotten your D.B.A. you had fallen pregnant, it might not have been the best time but Eddie had promised you that no matter what he was going to graduate next year no matter what and would take care of his girls.

So when his third senior year started he was ready to do anything to graduate for his girls.

“Eddie wants to hang out after school?” Dustin asked just before he took his seat at the lunch table. “I’d love to, but have shopping to do,” Eddie huffed at the thought of walking around the mall with you for hours well lugging all of the things would buy. “What do you need to go shopping for?” Gareth asked. “I have no idea, Y/N wanted to go shopping today and since she can't drive anymore she’s getting me to drive her to the mall,” Eddie replied. “Who is Y/N?” asked Dustin, confused as to how this person is. “Well, that dear child is something I'll be happy to answer. Y/N is the best thing that has ever graced this planet, she’s smart, she’s funny and she’s all mine, Mrs. Munson.” Eddie said all dreaming as if talking about a higher being. Now not only was Dustin confused, the rest of the freshmen were too. “She’s Eddie’s wife and mother of his child,” one of the seniors clarified. This had baffled almost everyone at the table not only did Eddie have a wife but a child on the way. “Can well see a photo of her?” Dustin said excitedly. “Sure,” Eddie pulled out a polaroid from his wallet of you all dressed up in your goth attire that helped with emphasising your baby bump. “Can I be the godfather?” asked Dustin with stars in his eyes. “Sure,” Eddie chuckled ruffling the young boy's hair before getting up and leaving the cafeteria.

Once Eddie's last class was over he was rushing out the door and to the trailer where you had been staying with uncle Wayne since Eddie wouldn't let you do much anymore with the excuse that he doesn't want you or the baby getting hurt.

Immediately after Eddie parked his truck you came bursting out of the trailer and into his arms. “Ed’s I’m bored,” you muffled into his chest. “Well let's go inside,” Eddie took your hand and led you into the trailer where a bunch of catalogues sat all over the room.

“Been doing a lot of shopping haven't we?” Eddie held you close. “Yeah I bought a vintage pram, and was thinking about getting a costume crib with a Franz Matthias Podany flare to it,” you said, pulling out the reference photos. “Cute,” Eddie kissed your forehead. “Oh, I forgot one thing, the contractor called this morning after you left, the house will be ready for us to see tomorrow night,” you giggle at the thought of your dream house that has been in the words for years being ready. “That’s great, we’ll go after I'm done with the club,” Eddie had pulled you in closer to him, caressing your tummy.

~~~~

“Ed’s,” you snuggled up and into your husband's arms after a long day of shopping and school. “Yes dear,” he hummed still in trance from talking to the baby still inside you. “I love you,” you murmured. “I love you two, and you as well,” Eddie rubbled circles into your belly. “I can't wait to see you hold her,” you commented, rummaging your hands through Eddie's hair. “I hope she has your eyes,” Eddie looked up at you before connecting your lips. “Yeah,” you giggled at Eddie's huge smile. “Yeah, now come on, my girls need their beauty rest for tomorrow.” Eddie got off of you before he threw the blankets over the both of you.

“I love you,”

Was the last word spoken between the two of you before you both fell into a comfortable slumber in each other's embrace.

#eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #dustin stranger things #fanfiction #x reader #x y/n #x female reader #x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x fem!reader

[puckmaidens]

Carry Me Home, Sweetheart - Jason Robertson x Reader - drunk s/o after 3/30 game vs Arizona

"Kisses are revoked until you brush your teeth, you smell like a hot mess, not the best kind…”

Jason loves his person. Y/N made his life smoother…. silencing some of his bigger anxieties like producing points and doing more as the gap between the regular season and playoffs loomed closer.

“JAY! Jay you did so well tonight!” Y/N’s smile was wide as they squeeze their boyfriend close.

“Mhm. Baby, are you drunk? Did you and Ellie get drinks during the game?” Jason frowns, knowing Y/N can occasionally go nuts with the available alcohol during away games.

“Nope! I promised no shenanigans until after the game. Ellie was very drunk though. Poor Ty. Oh, there’s the duo now!” Ellie, Y/N’s best friend and Ty Dellandrea’s girlfriend comes running down the hallway with her tired boyfriend in tow.

“Ellie, get back here! You’re gonna fall! Sweetheart please?”

“You’re not the boss of me Delly, ya killjoy! I’m perfectly upright thank you very much.” Ellie slips on some water and Ty grabs her before she hits the floor.

“Bedtime for you missy, not about to have you on concussion protocol because you don’t like listening”. Ellie lets herself be hauled onto Ty’s back and out the exit.

Jason and Y/N trail behind their friends, his head buried in his partner’s neck.

“Well… you may not be Ellie drunk but you smell like tequila. You promise you’re sober?”

“I promise I’m sober, sweets. Let’s go celebrate?”

“Okay, only because you asked”.

The ride to the bar was quiet until Jason and Y/N’s knees knocked together, clicking as the Uber hit a speed bump.

“Got something in my boots. I know it’s not your favorite, but those tiny bottles of Malibu don’t fit if I sneak them in my boots. I have Fireball though, if you fancy some courage before we celebrate you.”

Jason looks at Y/N and takes the tiny bottle in his hand before pressing a kiss to their cheek.

“One, Two, Three!” As the whiskey hits his throat, Jason only hopes tonight’s plans don’t fly off the handle.

The Uber slows to a halt, and Jason grabs Y/N at their waist. The breeze catches in Y/N’s hair and everything feels right, like nothing could bring the vibes down.

“Y/N! I have shots! Let’s go mama!” Tyler yells from across the bar, Scott shaking his head beside him.

“We talking straight vodka or tequila? I’m not trying to turn into a roman candle tonight.” Y/N eyes the shot glass that Tyler gives them.

“Jeez. A man accidentally splashes Everclear on a towel and nearly sets a kitchen on fire and never lives it down. It’s tequila, I’m not evil. I also found some rum if that’s more fun for you.” Y/N snorts, repressing a laugh and swallows down the shot.

The night blurs once as Y/N’s drinks begin to multiply, from tequila to rum, and cocktails that are riddled with curses.

“Jay. Jaaaaaaay. I wanna dance! I wanna be close to you! Please?” Jason obliges, finding Y/N’s hand and the middle of the bar.

The way Y/N’s face presses into Jason’s chest as they sway makes everything feel good, almost too good.

“I love you, and I’m happy I’m here with you like this.” Jason presses a kiss into Y/N’s hair before swaying them up into his arms and off the dance floor.

A few hours later, before getting back to the hotel

“Can we make a pit stop? I think I’m gonna hurl.” Y/N’s stomach was rolling, and the taste of Malibu was sitting heavy at the back of their throat. Their body was wobbly and between waves of excitement and joy, her body was ready to let everything out.

The toilet may have been Y/N’s saving grace.

“Baby? I can’t sleep. I need boyfriend kisses.”

"Kisses are revoked until you brush your teeth, you smell like a hot mess, not the best kind. I love you but you gotta get ready for bed. No brushing teeth, no boyfriend smooches.”

“Seems unfair but ok.” Y/N shuffles off to the bathroom to brush her teeth and use mouthwash.

Jason steps behind her, gently taking a wet microfiber cloth and rubbing her eye makeup off before wetting it again for the rest of Y/N’s face.

“Thank you. You ready to sleep too? It’s late.” Jason’s head is buried in Y/N’s neck as he nods.

“C’mon Jay. Bedtime for 100 point season havers, and record breakers.” Y/N and Jason walk in step back to bed, and drift back off to sleep.

“Love you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Jay-bird.”

#jason robertson x reader #Jason Robertson x y/n reader #Jason Robertson imagine

[ificouldhelpyouforget]

My Light in a Dark Place—Epilogue (Tamaki Amajiki x OFC)

MASTERLIST | MLDP MASTERLIST

A/N: That's it for the main story! The next bonus part is all about Aiko Amajiki and Mirai Togata, and let me tell you, I adore their story so much. I had just as much fun writing two oc characters as I did writing Yuki x Tamaki. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. Until next time!

Chapter warnings: a little smut and desire to be parents

Words: 6.5k

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You are welcome to kiss your bride."

Yuki smashes their lips together before Tamaki can even gather the courage to kiss her in front of so many of their friends and family. He can hear the laughter and sighs throughout the room and it makes him nervous despite his new wife kissing him eagerly.

Present Mic, who Yuki chose as their officiant, chuckles. "Or I guess the bride can kiss you."

She pulls away, grinning up at her handsome husband. "We're married, Tama."

A smile graces his lips, Yuki's joy a contagious thing. "We are."

"I love you."

Instead of returning her words, Tamaki leans down to kiss her, earning quite a few cheers for it.

—

With a grin on her face, Yuki shuts and locks the front door of her shop after the grand reopening in its new location.

Nejire walks in from the cooler room with a loud exhalation of breath. "It was busy today! I know it was a grand opening, but it's nice to see your loyal customers here!"

"I know!" Yuki wraps her arms around herself with a grin. "I think this will work out, plus it’s just a pleasant stroll away from home. Tama did good helping me find this place."

"He really did. I'm glad it worked out for you. Do you miss your old location?"

"I don't know. Sometimes I miss the convenience of working below my apartment and I miss the other shops and restaurants I came to know well, but this is good. This will be good. Next month the classes will start up and I'm so excited about that."

"You won't tire out too much?"

Yuki shakes her head. "I haven’t had an issue with my Quirk or socializing tiring me out for a while now. I've wondered if the change in my relationship with Tamaki has somehow helped in that aspect."

"You're talking about sex, right?"

"Well, I was trying to be less obvious about it."

"Sorry," Nejire giggles. "It makes sense though. Cuddling with the opposite sex helped you recover your energy, right? So why wouldn't the intimacy of being joined with the opposite sex help? It's the closest you can get to another person, and it's super personal."

"That makes sense. I can't believe I'm still learning about my Quirk this late in my life."

"Late?! Girl, you are barely in your thirties. There are plenty of years ahead where you can learn something new about your Quirk."

Yuki takes out the register and brings it to the office to count it. Nejire follows. "Yeah, I know, but… it seems like all my friends and family know the ins and outs of their Quirks."

"Yuki, you chose a life where you don't have to use your Quirk in your profession, well, not so regularly or rigorously. How many of us are heroes? We have to know our Quirks to apprehend villains and protecting civilians. It's okay to not know everything about yourself."

"You're right. I shouldn't be so surprised about it or remotely bummed out. Our careers have us learning things about ourselves at different paces and that's okay."

"It is!" Nejire says and then shuts the office door behind her. "I need to tell you something, Yuki."

Yuki pauses her counting and looks at Nejire. "What is it? Is everything okay?"

"Everything is great. It's perfect really." She chews on her bottom lip before her face lights up. "Mirio and I are going to have a baby. I'm pregnant."

"Oh, my God! That's so great!" Yuki wraps her arms around her friend. "How far along?" She reaches down to feel the hardly noticeable bump.

"The doctor said about six weeks, maybe seven. She says the baby is doing great, too."

"That's so great! You're going to be a mama! You guys are going to be such amazing parents." Yuki suddenly gasps. "You were on your feet all day! Sit down! Why didn't you tell me sooner?! I wouldn't have asked you to help me today."

"It's okay, Yuki. I feel fine. I wouldn't have agreed to help if I was worried."

"Next time, tell me and I'll make sure you get plenty of breaks, okay?"

"I will."

The back door opens and they hear the familiar voice of Tamaki call out his arrival.

"We're in the office!" Yuki responds, her skin lighting up as soon as her husband peeks inside the door. "Hey, hubby."

His face turns red. "Almost done?"

"Yeah. Just need to finish counting the drawer."

Nodding, Tamaki smiles at Nejire. "Congratulations on your pregnancy."

"Oh, thank you, Tama. We're so excited to have a little Nejire or Mirio running around."

"I'll be happy to babysit for you if you need it," Yuki says between counting. "It'll be great practice."

"Oh, are you guys thinking about children?"

"Eventually, right, Tama?"

Somehow, his face is an even darker red. "Y-Yeah."

"Your babies will be so cute. Maybe you'll end up having a baby with hair like Todoroki."

"Well, maybe. We won't be trying to make a child to be the next big hero, so I don't know which of our combined genes will show up. No matter what, our babies will be loved well."

Tamaki refuses to acknowledge his body's reaction to the idea of making multiple children with his wife. He's not told her yet how much he loves the thought of her carrying his babies. Plus the process to make children is always enjoyable.

"You guys will make such adorable kids!"

"Says the one who's the cutest and married to Lemillion," Yuki fires back. "And your child is currently baking in your oven."

She laughs. "True. I'm sure you'll be doing the same before you know it, you know."

Yuki and Tamaki look at each other, faces oddly devoid of any obvious emotion. Both wondering: Should we try?

—

A few months pass, and Nejire is finally looking like she's carrying a baby. And Mirio is as excited and nervous as any dad-to-be. Yuki finds his doting so cute. Nejire loves every second.

After an adorable baby shower Tamaki picks Yuki up from, his wife is unusually quiet. He doesn't ask why in case she's worn out from the party, so their drive is silent. It isn't until he's parked in the apartment complex's garage that Yuki breaks the silence.

"Do you think we should for a baby?"

Tamaki thinks for a moment. "Is that… something you want right now? The shop reopened recently. You'll have to… go on leave for a bit, right?"

"Yeah, but…" Yuki sighs as she feels that familiar tingle at the back of her eyes, "...all this baby stuff is making me want one so bad… I want a baby we make together."

He smiles, eyes holding his understanding. "I want to… have a baby with you, too…"

She grimaces. "I hear a 'but' coming…"

"Let's wait until your shop has… at least six months where it is… to make sure customers keep coming. Is that okay?"

"Okay." Yuki sniffles and then growls under her breath. "Gosh, I didn't want to cry about it."

Tamaki reaches over and grabs her hand tightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to make you cry."

"It's not your fault. I'm surrounded by baby talk and seeing Nejire so pretty and pregnant… I want that, too. But you're right. I need to let the shop gain a consistent customer base again before going on leave because I'm too round to see my feet."

The imagery makes Tamaki blush. Yuki will be so pretty carrying their baby. He just knows it. "It's been… over three months already."

"Right," Yuki says, stomach flipping and lips curving up. "Hey, Tama?"

"Hm?"

"Wanna practice making a baby tonight?"

His body quickly catches fire, and he squeezes her hand tightly. "Y-Yeah."

"Let's go then… Daddy."

"Oh, God…"

—

"You seem nervous today, beauty cool," Kirishima says when he and Yuki go out for lunch. "What's up?"

"Well, a while ago, Tamaki and I talked about having kids."

"Because of Nejire and Mirio? Aren't they due soon?"

Yuki nods.

"Are you pregnant then?" he grins.

"No. Tamaki suggested we wait until my shop stayed steady after six-ish months and then try. He was considering maternity leave and any medical emergencies that could come up like a good husband should."

"That's smart of him. I know he wants kids, so it had to be hard for him to decline."

"I certainly appreciate him thinking about me and the shop. He knows how important it is to me."

"So, what has you so nervous then?"

"Last week was the six-month mark and tonight Tamaki planned a whole evening for us. I don't know what he has planned, but… I'm kinda hoping tonight we'll start trying. I honestly don't know what I'll do if we don't. It's been killing me this last week every time we use some sort of contraceptive when we have sex."

"Maybe tonight will be what you're hoping," Kirishima says. "I know Tamaki is as eager as you to start a family."

"Do you know what he has planned tonight?"

"Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

How mean…

—

"Sushi?" Yuki asks once she and Tamaki sit down at a table.

"Yeah. It's… been a while. And you really enjoy the sweet potato rolls they serve here."

"They are delicious." Reaching across the table, Yuki grabs his hand and smiles. "Thank you, Tama."

"You're welcome, Yuki."

And so they eat, Tamaki making sure Yuki gets everything she wants before finishing up any pieces of sushi she doesn't eat. They eat so much that Yuki leans back and spreads her legs under the table, her hands rubbing her belly.

"That was so good," she says. "This was such a good idea."

Tamaki smiles as he leaves money to pay. "Good. You… You deserve it."

"What's next?"

"A walk home."

"A walk? We're at least an hour away from home."

"I know. We need to walk off dinner."

"I guess sitting in a car would make us a bit bloated. It makes sense why you had us take a cab."

"Yeah." Tamaki stands and helps his wife to her feet, kissing her cheek swiftly. "I think it'll be a good walk… because I’m with you."

Yuki smiles at him. “And I’m with you.”

Their hands clasp together tightly before Tamaki guides Yuki into the evening air.

They talk the entire way while talking about anything and everything, their hands never separating. Even when Tamaki leads her into a bakery about to close for the night, their hands stay together. Not even the chocolate croissant they order is enough to warrant a need for those occupied hands.

When the remaining colors of the sunset are gone and more stars appear in the darkening sky, the couple arrive at their home, feet tired and bellies still content. Tamaki was right to suggest walking home because Yuki feels good considering how much she ate.

Yuki whines and plops onto the couch. "I need to take a shower…"

"Go ahead," Tamaki says. "I need to clean the apartment some since I was busy last night and this morning. Take your time… okay?"

Yawning as she rolls of the couch and drags her feet toward the bedroom, Yuki nods. "Okay. Don't forget to shower, too, Tama. Take care of yourself."

"I will, firefly."

Yuki disappears into the bathroom, completely unconcerned by the obvious fidgeting of her husband. Little does she know, Tamaki has no intention of cleaning anything up tonight, moving his plan into action.

Despite the sudden exhaustion creeping up on Yuki, her stomach squirms a bit at the thought of them finally trying for a baby. She gingerly presses her fingers to her abdomen and silently prays that soon a little baby will grow soon after they take their contraceptives out of their nightly activities. And then Yuki quickly shaves a few parts of her body. Just in case.

Her skin tingles when she walks out of the bathroom 45 minutes later to find lit candles on almost every hard surface in their bedroom. Her heart leaps in her chest when long arms circle her naked waist.

"What's all this for, Tama?" she asks, leaning into his chest, realizing he is no longer wearing his shirt and relishing in his warmth. 

"You," he says, kissing her neck.

Yuki turns in his arms to be greeted with her blushing husband who is as naked as her. Her eyes sparkle. "Are you saying we can try for a baby?"

Tamaki nods slowly. "If you're ready."

"Yes," Yuki says, standing on her toes to crash her lips into his. Did she mean for it to be so enthusiastic? Not really, but Yuki felt tears try to fill her vision and wasn't interested in weeping before getting it on with her sweet husband. She pulls back enough to speak, but keeps their lips close. "Please put a baby in me, Tama."

Far more comfortable with how he can handle his wife's body, Tamaki picks Yuki up and carefully tosses her onto their bed, loving the way she laughs as she bounces on the mattress. It's a good day for a little more manhandling, which is great for Tamaki knowing his real purpose behind tonight is to get his love pregnant. That thought is enough to rile him up. 

He crawls on top of her, brushing her hair out of her face, and kisses her lips. "How… How many times do you want… to try this?"

"Tonight?"

Tamaki nods.

Yuki caresses his shoulders, gaze heavy on his face. "As many times as you can handle, Tama."

Another nod and he kisses her lips. Soon his kisses follow her jawline, the expanse of her neck, her collarbone, all the way down her chest and belly to where he loves to spend a majority of his time when they sleep together. It's the way her fingers grip his hair, how she spreads her legs wider just for him… how she tastes on his tongue and it's always better than any meal he's ever had. Best of all, their many sexual endeavors has allowed Tamaki to learn everything about his Yuki's body. He knows what she likes based on her sounds, her movements. He can bring her to an orgasm in less than a minute or draw it out until she’s begging for him to make her come undone. And that's only when he uses his mouth on her.

"Please, Tama," she begs, head back and eyes closed tightly. 

That tells Tamaki that Yuki isn't interested in teasing, which he had no intention of. Not tonight. Tonight starts their journey as parents. His eagerness shows, quickly guiding Yuki over the threshold he was pushing her toward. But he doesn't stop his kitten licks until her thighs close around his head from overstimulation. 

He doesn't waste time crawling back on top of her, hand ready to guide his cock into her. Tamaki will never admit how excited he is to feel his wife with no barrier between them.

Yuki whines from his hesitation, hands grabbing and touching him in various places. It's no longer about the need for pleasure for her. She's desperate for him, for the child he can help her create.

With the quiet admission of her love for him, Tamaki finally pushed into her, grunting from the squeeze of her muscles. But it doesn't stop him for long, his body moving instinctually to provide Yuki with a baby.

There is nothing on Yuki's mind except the hope of being a mom and she's so grateful to have a husband like Tamaki to help her reach that hope, that dream. She can't imagine being a parent with anyone else.

Tamaki finishes quickly, the images of his wife pregnant and holding their child in her arms pushing him over the edge. But he doesn't pull out once he's done. Instead, he stays between Yuki's legs and kisses every inch of her skin he can reach. There's a slight worry Yuki is upset that he didn't get her off a second time, but he knows this wasn't primarily for pleasure, not that Tamaki would forgo pleasuring his wife to make a child with her.

Suddenly, laughter bubbles up from Yuki's chest, pausing Tamaki's kisses.

"Why was that so hot?" she says, in awe of how their rather brief bout of sex was one of the most exhilarating she's shared with Tamaki.

A bright red blush spreads across Tamaki's face. "Really?"

"Yes, really! I'm still so turned on by it."

"You only... c-came once."

Yuki giggles and pets Tamaki's messy head of hair—no thanks to her. "You don't have to make me orgasm more than once for sex to be hot, Tama. No… I think this time was so different because we're trying for kids." She moans so quietly under her breath, feeling Tamaki's softening cock slip out of her slightly when he shifts. "Is that weird?"

A tiny smile graces Tamaki's face and he kisses her nose. "No, it's not weird. You’re excited to be a mom."

"Are you excited to be a dad one day?"

He nods, lips still turned up. The red on his cheeks gets darker and spreads up to his ears and down his neck. "I'm looking forward to… seeing you pregnant."

"Really?" Yuki giggles. "Do you have a thing for pregnant women?"

"N-No! Just… my wife."

"Hmm, I guess we have to make sure we keep trying, yeah?"

"Y-Yeah."

Yuki kisses him. "Can you let me up real quick? I want to clean up a little down there. Then we can cuddle and see what happens from there."

"Okay," Tamaki says, slowly lifting himself off her and separating their bodies completely with a soft exhalation of his breath. But he kisses her once more before completely letting her go take care of herself.

She comes back a minute later and instantly snuggles into his embrace, her eyes shining in hope. 

Tamaki holds her close and silently prays that his Yuki will get her dream of motherhood to come true.

—

Before anyone knows it, spring comes and goes followed by summer and autumn. All those months go by and Yuki has nothing to show for it.

The first time she met baby Mirai—named after the late Sir Nighteye—Yuki and Tamaki were several months into their baby-making endeavor with no luck. Yuki started weeping over baby Mirai while holding him close to her chest. Yuki was having dreams about holding a child of her own that was taking over her everything. Seeing a baby broke her.

A month later, Tamaki and Yuki got themselves checked for fertility and everything came out perfect. It just wasn't happening for them.

"It's so hard, Kiri," Yuki tells him one day when he's walking her home after dinner. "Everything looks fine according to the doctor, but it's not happening."

"Maybe the timing is off right now. Soon things will settle down in your lives and boom, you'll get pregnant."

"But why not now?"

"I don't know, Yuki… I wish I had the answer for you. I hate seeing you so broken up over this. It's taking a toll on Tamaki, too. He's just as upset about it and is starting think he's not doing something right."

"What if we never become parents?"

"Now don't start with the 'what ifs' because you'll worry more and that will put too much strain on your body, making it even harder. Maybe you and Tamaki should spend a weekend at a spa to relax and refresh your bodies. I'm sure all the attempts you two are making to have kids are wearing you both down."

"Maybe we should do that… A weekend of no responsibility, only us."

Kirishima nods, draping his arm across her shoulders. "It's exactly what you need. I know a great place with private hot springs included with the suites. I'll send the info to you guys."

"Thanks, Kiri." Yuki rests her head against his side and sighs.

Maybe our odds will go up after some relaxation…

—

The first thing Yuki does when they walk into their rented room is flop onto the bed after an enormous leap onto it. She hums from the coolness of the comforter that slowly warms the longer she lies there.

"This is nice," Tamaki says, looking around the cozy room. "Eijiro recommended it?"

Yuki nods as she sits up properly. "He said they have private hot springs for some rooms." He knows that this relaxing weekend is really going to be us trying for a baby. Thank you, Kiri. She stands and meanders toward the door that leads to their room's hot spring. "I can't wait to sit in the spring later. Maybe after dinner. Does that sound good to you?"

"I'd like that." Tamaki scratches the back of his head and his cheeks turn a little pink. "Did you… pack a swimsuit?"

"Oh, Tama," Yuki giggles, looking over her shoulder at him. "We're married and have an entire room to ourselves. I don't expect to wear anything but a robe these next two days."

"O-Oh."

"You're so cute."

Tamaki likes it when his wife says he's cute. But when they're in the hot spring together that evening—in reality during the entire weekend—Tamaki reminds her he's not always her cute husband. 

Yuki loves every second, crying out in pure ecstasy each time Tamaki hits that spot with his cock as he takes her from behind. She barely can keep a hold on the rocks lining the spring, one of those rounded rocks perfectly rubbing against her with every one of Tamaki's thrusts.

The poor spa staff have a hard time keeping their knowing smiles at bay the rest of the couple's visit because not a single person there can mistake the lewd sounds coming from their room at all hours of each day. Of course, the constant glow of Yuki's Quirk, Tamaki's overly content demeanor, and the obvious gazes between them give everything away. And on their last day, the head staff kindly bows as they head out, a sweet "good luck" sent their way with an understanding of the couple's true purpose there. 

Plus, Kirishima called ahead to warn the staff.

—

The doctor walks into the room Yuki is sitting in, waiting to get her PAP done, but the doctor isn't prepared like she usually would be.

"Mrs. Amajiki?"

"Yes?"

"We won't be doing a PAP today like usual."

"Why? What's wrong?" Yuki's heart races, worried they found something bad in her urine test.

Her doctor smiles. "Nothing's wrong. Your urine test came back and, well, you're pregnant."

She blinks. "W-What? I'm… going to have a baby?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm going to check you out and make sure what I can see is going smoothly. In a few weeks, I want you to come back for a checkup. You'll be coming in about once a month for checkups. I can explain everything in better detail after your appointment today. We're going to get you and this baby safely through to the end, all right?"

By then, Yuki has a hand over her abdomen—just under her belly button—and tears rolling down her cheeks. Her other hand comes up to cover her mouth to prevent the sob she wants to let out.

"I'm really pregnant?"

"You are."

The dam breaks and Yuki can't stop it any longer. She cries all the way home and into Tamaki's arms when he gets back from work. She doesn't stop even when he asks her why she’s crying.

"What's wrong?" he asks, grabbing her face carefully to make her look at him. "Did something happen at the doctor?"

Yuki nods.

"Is it… bad?"

She shakes her head no.

"It's good? Why are you crying—?“

Yuki watches the realization cross over Tamaki's features, his lips parting the longer it sits in his mind.

"Are you…? Are we…? I-It's real?"

"Yes," she says, more tears falling when she notes the welling up of Tamaki's eyes. "We're gonna be parents. You're gonna be a daddy, Tamaki."

Tears fall from his eyes as he gazes at his amazing wife. His love for her knows no bounds and only grows more knowing that she's carrying their baby. She couldn't look more perfect in his eyes.

He lifts a hand up, hovering over her stomach. "C-Can I?"

"Of course, Tama," Yuki smiles, taking his hand and pressing it to her body. "Anytime. We made this precious life together, so you never have to ask."

But Tamaki can't leave it at simply touching over where their tiny unborn baby is growing. No. Tamaki gets on his knees and presses his cheek against Yuki's abdomen, arms wrapping around her tightly. He knows he won't hear anything, but in the moment's intimacy it feels right. It brings him just a little closer to their child.

Yuki's fingers comb through his hair he has yet to style for the day, fresh tears spilling from her eyes as her husband has his moment with their unborn child. She always knew she picked a sweet man to live the rest of her days with and this moment only proves it again. But she can't deny that she finds her sweet husband suddenly irresistible in that moment. Must be the shift of hormones they warned me about.. and the fact I love this man so much.

"Tama," Yuki whispers, brushing his hair back when Tamaki looks up at her. She also wipes his tears away before bending down and kissing his lips. "My doctor told me that my emotions and cravings and hormones will fluctuate suddenly and often…" She gives him another kiss, longer than before. "I think my hormones are doing that right now. I really want you, Tama. Right now."

He blinks in surprise, but presses his lips to her stomach. "O-Okay."

"Oh, good," Yuki sighs. "I was nervous you wouldn't want to."

"No." Tamaki stands and kisses her forehead. "Whatever you want… or need, I'll help."

"Well, I could use some help in our bedroom. I desperately need my husband."

With a nod, Tamaki lets Yuki guide him into their room where he makes sure she's completely satisfied, ending up asleep with her in his arms, a gentle glow about her. 

He's the luckiest man in the world and no one can tell him otherwise.

—

Time is a funny thing. It can speed by or can drag on and the Amajikis felt both at various times of the day. In some ways, it felt like Yuki was pregnant forever. Once she birthed their first child, it seemed as if they blinked and ended up where they are now.

Their first little one, Aiko, becomes a toddler far too quickly for their liking, scampering around their home in search of whatever trouble she can find. It keeps poor Yuki and Tamaki on their toes all the time.

But neither will trade it for anything. 

The moment Aiko was welcomed into the world with hardly a cry and a firm grip on anything within her reach, they knew she'd be trouble. Yuki often sees herself in their little girl, recalling the hell she brought her parents when she was younger. In the privacy of their bedroom, Yuki often coos over what bratty things Aiko did and how adorable she is when she's being rotten.

Kirishima likes to remind her it won't be so cute once Aiko becomes a teenager, but Yuki isn't worried. Her daughter will find her way and be sweet just like her daddy. She already sees it in those few caring moments Aiko has with Yuki and Tamaki. They're short-lived and often end with pure chaos, but Yuki sees her sweet husband's softer personality in Aiko. There's so much excitement to watch their baby grow into a wonderful young woman.

"She's going to be a heartbreaker," Nejire tells Yuki during their weekly playdate with Aiko and Mirai—who is about one and a half years older than Aiko.

"Why is that?"

"First of all, look at her parents. Both of you are beautiful and she shares both of your looks. Second, her hair is such a gorgeous color of purple. I was not expecting her hair to be a perfect blend of Tama's dark hair and your light hair. And the bluish tint from Tama's hair color is so pretty. She could easily be a model when she gets older."

Yuki chuckles. "She'll only become a model if the industry will stop starving their models. A strong woman needs some meat on her bones and we all know Aiko is the strongest little girl we've seen since Eri." The mothers watch Mirai take Aiko's hand and lead her toward a grouping of dandelions in the grass. "Mirai is going to be a handsome man, you know. I still can't believe the only part of Mirio in him is the shape of his face. Otherwise, he looks like your clone."

"He's such a handsome boy,” Nejire says. “I love watching Eri with Aiko, too. They're so cute! I’ve never seen Eri love someone as much as she loves your daughter."

"They are adorable. I'm glad Aiko has so many wonderful women in her life just in case something ever happens to me."

"I don't like that line of thinking, but we will all take care Aiko and love her no matter what happens."

"That's all I want for her. Well, and success in whatever she does… and a loving family of her own." Yuki sighs as she watches Mirai give Aiko a yellow dandelion he picked out of the grass. "I never want her to feel the despair I felt… or the fear. I want her to find a man like Tama who will protect her and take care of her the way a man should take care of his woman."

Nejire nods firmly. "Agreed. Maybe we'll see Mirai grow into a fine young man perfect for her."

"Mirai is going to be the perfect gentleman when he gets older. I'd love it if our kids ended up together. That'd be so cute. Has Mirai shown any signs of having a Quirk yet?"

"Not yet. His x-ray is promising, but we're still waiting."

"Whose Quirk do you think he'll get?"

"I couldn't begin to guess," Nejire says. "But he has so much energy all the time, so that could be a sign he'll have my Quirk or one similar."

"That'd be great if he does! Then you can help him master it before school."

"Has Aiko shown any signs?"

Yuki smiles. "She glowed like me when she saw Tama after he got home last night. We had to settle her down to keep from getting blinded. She just loves her daddy so much."

"Just like her mama," Nejire says.

"Yeah, just like me. It's impossible not to love Tamaki."

"I wonder if Tama's Quirk will be something she can use. What if she can use the sunlight that charges her up and manifests it as a defensive or offensive attack?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if that is something she can learn. Maybe I can ask Aizawa for help when she gets a little older."

"Do you want her to be a hero when she's able?"

Aiko squeals and starts glowing as she chases Mirai around. It makes Yuki smile.

"I don't think I'll have much of a say in that. She looks up to Tama like he's her everything. She'll want to help people just like him and if that's what my baby wants, I'll support her and cheer her on."

"If only they would stop getting older."

"I know. I'm dreading the day she moves away from us."

Nejire grins. "I guess we'll have to get our men to knock us up again, huh?"

Yuki giggles. "Something tells me we won't have an issue convincing them."

"You're right," Nejire says. "Would you want another girl or a boy?" 

"Either would be nice if it's in the cards for us. Aiko would be a sweet older sister and would love them." 

"That's a good way of looking at it. I would love to have a little girl so Mirai can be a big brother. Although, Aiko is giving him great practice." 

"Yeah, but if you are hoping those two end up together when they're older, maybe we shouldn't encourage that sibling relationship between them." 

"Ah! You're so right!" 

Loud laughter erupts between the two mothers, catching the attention of their children for a quick second before they go back into their imaginative world together again. 

—

As the years go on, Yuki and Tamaki end up pregnant again with a new Quirkless little girl, Hana, added to their family as Aiko enters first grade. Nejire and Mirio weren't able to have a second child, but it doesn’t bring them down too much. 

Both Mirai and Aiko have plans to go to UA, their Quirks leading them to desire helping others. Mirai's Quirk is much like Nejire's with an added bonus of Mirio's Quirk to force his shockwave through objects, only affecting the structure of whatever he's forcing them through. 

Aiko gained all of Yuki's Quirk abilities, with far more emphasis on the ability to glow, but also received Tamaki's manifesting abilities. Sometimes her parents walk into a room with several orbs of light that Aiko manifested and let float around her at any point in a day. It's practice to manifest much bigger and more draining orbs. Aizawa has her building up her stamina and Aiko is doing much better than Yuki ever did at resisting the exhaustion from her Quirk. Yuki's never been prouder to see her daughter succeed where she didn't. 

Although, the exhaustion still hits Aiko and, just like her mother, she needs physical affection from men and sunlight. And to both Yuki and Nejire's joy, Mirai is her chosen cuddle buddy. Only time will tell what will happen. 

Yuki comes out of the bathroom, rubbing lotion on her hands and arms with a smile toward Tamaki who is already in bed reading a book. 

Age truly made her husband even more handsome, his features still sharp and skin still youthful despite the small scars villains left him with. His long hair was cut many years ago, sitting just above his shoulders now, and tamer than it's ever been. His eyes haven't changed at all and Yuki loves that about him. 

"Is Daddy too interested in his book to cuddle with me?" Yuki teases while she climbs onto her side of the bed. With children, it's hard to break out of calling Tamaki what their daughters call him, particularly since their youngest, Hana, has yet to upgrade his title to "dad."

Tamaki closes his book and smiles at his wife. Even after all those years, his cheeks still warm when she teases him. "Come here, firefly." 

At the name, her skin lights. Yuki snuggles into Tamaki's side and sighs as his arm wraps around her shoulders. She draws invisible shapes across his sleep shirt. "I love you, Tamaki. I don't think I've told you that today." 

"I love you, too," he says, kissing the top of her head. "Excited to be off this week?" 

"There's nothing better than getting seven days with my two babies and their daddy. I could use the family time." Yuki can't resist pressing her lips to Tamaki's jawline. "And I'm really looking forward to our night alone when the girls go stay with Kiri." 

Tamaki's breath is shaky when he exhales. "M-Me, too." 

She giggles. "Good. We'll take full advantage of our day together." 

He hums and nods, letting the sounds of their room fill the pause. 

"I'm so happy this is my life," Yuki says quietly. "Thank you, Tama… for being the reason I’m so happy."

He holds her closer, unable to find the words to respond. There are a million things he could say, but nothing seems like it'll convey his own gratitude for Yuki being there.

"I'd go through all of it all over again if I knew this is the result. Every loss, every hurt, every trauma. Although, I'd probably try to talk to you at school."

"You'd even go through—"

"Yes," she interrupts. "Even though it took a toll on me for a long time and it's a horrific thing for anyone to go through, it strengthened me. It strengthened us. I feel like one of the lucky ones considering the circumstances. Seeing it through another person's eyes wasn't easy and hurt more than helped, but I never remembered the feeling of it happening to me thanks to Yoshiro." Yuki wraps her arms around Tamaki's middle. "I can't imagine how all those men and women who've gone through the same thing and had no one to block it out for them are still going. I was fortunate, and that alone has helped me get here. Is it problematic to say I'd go through it again if you and the girls are waiting for me on the other side? Maybe… but it gave me this family."

"I… I never want to see you go through that ever again."

"I know. I don't want to either. It had to be so hard for you to watch me spiral out of control."

"I didn't care about me."

Yuki smiles to herself remembering how true it was. Not once did Tamaki make her healing process about himself. It was always about helping her get back on her feet. "I remember. I'm so grateful for you, Tama."

"Get some sleep," he whispers, brushing his fingers through her hair, no longer wanting to think about what happened to her. "The girls will be up early."

She pouts and slumps against him. "But I'm not done cuddling with Daddy."

"They're not even around…" Tamaki groans, internally mortified by how much he enjoys hearing his wife call him that. "And when has… has sleep stopped you from cuddling?"

"True." Yuki settles more into the pillows and makes sure Tamaki does, too, her legs crossing over his waist. She raises an eyebrow and her blushing husband. "Since when have you been into me calling you daddy?"

He groans again and covers his face. "Stop it, Yuki…"

Of course, she just laughs and snuggles in closer. "You're giving me ideas for our alone time."

Tamaki whines and hides her face against his chest to beg her to stop talking. "We need to sleep."

"Do we really though?"

"Yes."

She bites his chest through his shirt, which makes him flinch and hiss. He doesn't release her.

"Go to sleep, Yuki."

"Using your dad voice on me now? You're only making this worse for yourself." Yuki looks at him and lets one of her hands slink its way down Tamaki's chest and into his sleep pants. "We can be quick."

He jerks and grunts as soon as her hand wraps around him. There's no doubt that "being quick" will not be quick at all, but the torturous drag of her warm hand is difficult to stop… so he doesn't.

And to say Mommy and Daddy are tired the next morning when they come in shouting about vacation is the understatement of the century.

Yuki drops her head on Tamaki's shoulder. "I'm sorry. Next time, I'll keep my hands to myself."

Tamaki rubs her back and smiles, predicting that promise won't come true like the many other times she's said the same thing. And he's okay with that because he'll do anything just to make sure his Yuki is as happy as she can be. Getting those few hours back of missed sleep can't compare to the soft glow that settles under Yuki's skin or the bright smile she always sends his way. 

"I love you," Tamaki says, putting some hair behind her ear when she looks up at him.

Her face splits into a blinding grin. "I love you."

Their lips meet for a second before both Aiko and Hana shout about cooties and how gross their parents are. Those complaints quickly turn to screams as their loving parents chase them around the house, both ending up trapped in their mother's arms to be showered in hugs and kisses to start their family vacation. 

#tamaki amajiki #Tamaki Amajiki x ofc #original female character #ofc #original character #oc #original male character #omc #mha #my hero academia #mha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #angst #fluff #mature #tamaki amajiki fanfiction #my hero academia fanfiction #eventual smut #smut

[dawntainbobbynash]

#911verse #911lonestarsource #911women #911coc #911lonestaredit #graceryderedit #grace ryder #911 lone star #lone star #mine. #gifs #grace #baby ryder #grudd #911 lone star spoilers #grace talking to her baby bump is something that can be so personal

[change-the-world-someday]

I'll Be Here

Oh boy I'm back baby. Here's a Derek Shepherd x Teen!reader bc I just started Grey's Anatomy. I'm well aware I've had stuff in my inbox for over a year, and frankly I'll get round to them soon. I hope this tides you over.

Derek Shepherd x Teen!Reader

Summary: Who'd have thought the child of Derek Shepherd would suffer with something even he can't cure?

A/N: I've been twitching a lot lately so this was a comfort write. Derek and Meredith don't have a relationship, and there's a bit of canon divergence.

⚠️TW⚠️ Talk and descriptions of twitching/tics

—•—

You knew the moment you woke up you were going to have a bad day.

Your alarm went off at the bright and early nine and as you made a move to turn it off, your arm twitched, almost pushing it off your nightstand. You let out a sigh, leaning down and managing to shut it off and sit up.

Until you neck starts to snap left and right, tensing and relaxing each muscle.

“Fuck’s sake,” you mutter under your breath, standing and stretching, well, as much as you can before your twitches start up again. You makes your way downstairs, finding an empty kitchen and a note on the counter. You manage to pick it up and read it.

Sorry, I got called in today. Let me know when you’re up

— Dad

You shake your head, whistling and shaking your hands. Great, so you're alone on a day where your twitches are worse than normal. You sigh and head back upstairs, almost losing balance on the stairs, and takes a quick shower before trying to style your hair. With difficulty, you get changed before reaching over and grabbing your phone. You grip it tightly, until it’s flung across the room.

“Shit,” you mumble, reaching down and picking it up. You open your messages, trying to text your dad.

Y/N

Hi, up. Bad today

It’s short, and to the untrained eye, might seem pretty rude, but to you and your dad, is a warning. Heading back to the kitchen, you try to eat a bowl of cereal. Instead, you managed to spill the cereal twice, drop milk on the floor, and then poke yourself in the side of the face a few times with your spoon instead of eating.

Your phone buzzes.

Dad

Do you need me at

home?

Y/N

No. Just bad

Dad

Do you want to come

to the hospital? You

can stay in one of the

offices if you want

You think about it for a moment, though you don’t get too long before your phone starts ringing. You pick up.

“Hi—” you whistle “—hi Dad.”

You hear him sigh. “Hey kid. Do you want to come in today? I can make sure no one stops you and you can come straight to the office.”

You click, your neck jerking forward. “You sure? I’ve—“ you whistle “—never been there before. I don’t want—“ you click “—to become a case study.”

Your dad laughs lightly down the phone. “I won’t let them. Just make your way over, and keep your earphones in. Music helps.”

You nod, before your neck twitches to the side and cracks, making your dad wince audibly. “Okay. I’ll let you know—“ you whistle and sigh, clearly getting frustrated with yourself.

“I get it. Don’t work yourself up; it’ll only make it worse. See you soon. Love you.”

A ghost of a smile passes across your face. “Love you too, Dad.”

—•—

Derek hangs up and leaves the store cupboard, almost bumping into Dr Bailey as she marches past.

“Watch where you’re going, McDreamy,” she scolds and Derek smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Bailey narrows her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Y'N's coming here. They're having a bad day,” he replies and Bailey nods, immediately catching on. “No one else knows.”

Surprisingly enough, you haven’t met anyone from Derek’s work, except for Bailey and even then, that was an accident. You'd bumped into her on a bad day and Derek had to explain what was wrong. Ever since, Bailey’s had a soft spot for you.

“Not even the chief?” She asks and Derek shakes his head. “Did you warn them?” He nods. “Well, there’s not much else you can do.”

“They're texting me when they’re a few minutes away. If I get caught in surgery, can you meet them at the doors please?”

The two stop in the corridor, Bailey pulling him over. “I have my own schedule too, Shepherd.”

Derek nods. “I know, but you’re the only other person here they know, and you know how they can get in places they don’t know…”

Bailey looks around. “If you’re caught up, you owe me one.”

Derek smiles and nods, a look of relief on his face. “Thank you.”

—•—

You're walking down the street to the hospital, constantly readjusting your earphones so they don’t fall out. Your neck keeps snapping to the side and jerking forward, earning a few odd looks from strangers. You sigh, a few minutes away from the hospital, and pull out your phone. Before you can do anything, though, you promptly throw your phone on the pavement.

Thank god your dad bought you one of those industrial phone cases. You pick it up, dodging people as you go to call your dad. He picks up after two rings.

“Hi, I’m—“ you click “—a minute away.”

“Okay. I don’t think I’m going to be able to meet you at the doors. Just walk through, take the stairs to the fifth floor, and come down the hall. I’ll be in the break room, second door on the left.”

Your eyes widen; you're going to be by yourself? Walking through a hospital? Where no one knows you?

“O-Okay,” you stammer out and your dad sighs.

“I’m sorry kid. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”

He hangs up and you take a breath, nodding to yourself. You pocket your phone and turn your music up as loud as it can be. Your dad was right, it does ease your twitching, though not as much as you'd like.

Fall Out Boy blasts through your earphones as you walk through the doors of Seattle Grace. You refuse to make eye contact with anyone, your neck twitch making it a lot easier to achieve. You click as you make your way to the stairwell, making your way up.

You don’t hear the calls of concerns from the interns following you, trying to catch up to you.

By the time you reach the fifth floor, the two interns have gone to find Dr Bailey to try and assist them, and Dr Shepherd who can help with the disorder being presented. They haven’t had someone who needs medical attention blatantly ignore them and go to a certain department before.

You lose your balance a little as you walk through the doors to the fifth floor, your neck jerking left and right repeatedly, muscles tensing and relaxing. Your hands are shaking and you walk like a new fawn.

You reach the door and push it open, whistling and clicking as you do so. At least you can see your dad today.

—•—

Derek knows immediately what kind of day is happening when you steps into the room. You're a jerking mess, neck and shoulders tensing and relaxing as though given electric shocks. You're whistling, clicking, and your eyes have recently started screwing shut, temporarily blinding you.

And that’s with your headphones in.

“Hey Y/N,” he greets, gently taking one earbud out of your ear and leading you to the seats. At least if you're sat, you have less of a chance of hurting yourself.

“Hi Dad,” you reply until a whistle comes back out. “S-Sorry.”

“Hey,” Derek places a firm but kind hand on your shoulder, “don’t apologise. None of this is your fault.” There’s a silence between you two, only broken by the sound coming from the removed earphone. “Fall Out Boy? Nice choice.”

Your neck snaps but you give a small smile. “Thanks.”

“Do you want something to eat? Did you manage to get some breakfast?” You sigh, your hands twitching and trembling, which tells Derek everything he needs to know. “Is it a bomb-site there?”

You shake your head. “I managed—“ you whistle “—to clean up. Took ages.” Your neck jerks forward. Derek sighs, putting an arm around you and pulling you into his side. You've always been wary; you never want to hurt your dad accidentally but Derek doesn’t care. You're his kid, and nothing will change that.

“You’re okay. Do you want some lunch? We can go to the cafeteria—they’ve got some pizza in there that’s actually pretty good.”

You nod, knowing anything you try to say will be interrupted by one of your twitches. You walk alongside Derek, trying your hardest to suppress your twitching as you make your way through the hospital and into to lift, where a few others are going to different floors. Derek notices, and leans into your ear. “You don’t have to hide it here, kid. Promise.”

There’s an audible sigh of relief from you as you let out a scatter of twitches, your neck jerking forward as you whistle and click. Your hands shake and flap and you let it all go. A few of the doctors and nurses turn around to look at you, but one harsh glare from Dr Shepherd makes them all go back to minding their own business.

You exit the lift and walk through the corridors to the cafeteria. You join the queue and you feel Derek keep an arm around you, trying to help you ease your twitches. You're grateful, though you both know there isn’t much either of you can do to stop them. You sigh, putting your earphones back in and blasting some music, this time Hozier.

Derek watches you struggle, sympathy panging through his heart. He hates that you've been cursed with this, and the worst part is they can’t find anything that’s causing it. It’s not like there’s a tumour or growth on your brain Dr Shepherd can operate on, you're just stuck with it.

“Dr Shepherd, good afternoon. Who’s this?” Lindsey, the server behind the food counter, greets. Derek smiles.

“Afternoon Lindsey. This is my kid, Y/N. They're joining me at the hospital today,” he explains, gently tapping you on the shoulder and causing you to take an earphone out. “Y/N, this is Lindsey.���

“Hi,” you greet, before your neck jerks forward yet again, cracking. The two adults give a wince and Lindsey gives you a small smile.

“What would you like, hun?” She asks. You look over, or does so as best you can. You can barely stay still long enough to read the menu. “We have a standard pizza or pepperoni pizza today. We also have some ham, chicken, or cheese sandwiches and salads. Or a few pastries we can heat up if you’d prefer.”

You give her a grateful smile. “Can I—“ you whistle “—have pepperoni please? And a—“ you click “—bottle of water?”

“Sure thing, and you Dr Shepherd?”

You put your earphones back in, trying your hardest to stop twitching. The problem is, the more you try to stop it, the worse it gets. It takes a few minutes for you to get your food, and when you do, Derek carries both trays to a table and sets them down. He takes a seat opposite you, giving a small smile.

“Thanks Dad,” you thank, pulling one earphone out so you can hear the conversation. You pick up the plastic fork and spear a few chips, but before you can eat them, your hand twitches and you throw it on the floor. You sigh but before either you or your dad can make a move to pick it up, someone else does it for you.

“You better be more careful. I don’t want fries on my shoes.” You recognise that voice anywhere, and smile as you look up at Dr Bailey. You let out a small laugh.

“Hi Dr Bailey,” you greet, whistling as your head snaps to the side and back. She smiles at you.

“Heard you were coming and through I’d say hello.”

—•—

“Guys, shut up,” Cristina hisses. “Do you see?”

“See what?” George asks as they quieten down. She nods her head and the table of interns turn around to catch sight of what’s going on. Dr Bailey is talking Dr Shepherd… and you sat with them. You're not dressed in any kind of hospital gown, nor are you wearing scrubs, so who are you? And how are you making Dr Bailey smile?

Meredith watches, catching sigh of your hair, and her eyes widen. She reaches over, slapping George on the arm.

“What?” He asks.

“It’s them,” she replies, “the person from earlier. Y’know, the one who didn’t check in at reception and took the stairs. The one who ignored us!”

George’s eyes widen too, and the two get up and start to walk over, ignoring the protests of Cristina and Izzie as they reach the table. You're struggling to get a sentence out, whistling and clicking as you try to tell Dr Shepherd about something.

“Dr Shepherd!” Meredith calls out, making the conversation halt between you. “Are you with a patient?”

She misses how you cringe. Dr Shepherd frowns, which only deepens more at the crack in your neck as it jerks forward. “Dr Grey, Dr O’Malley, how can I help?”

“W-We saw, erm, this kid walk straight through and up to neurology without checking in. Do you want us to check them in and get a better examination? We were going to come to you for a consult when we saw them anyway, but since you already seem to know them…” George trails off and Dr Shepherd looks between you, the interns, and Dr Bailey.

An awkward silence falls between you, only disturbed by the occasional whistle or click from you. “I can get a wheelchair if it’s easier.”

“No need,” Dr Shepherd cuts in. “They aren’t a patient, their name’s Y/N. They're my kid and they're accompanying me to work today.” The two interns look at each other, mortified. “Now, if you excuse us, we were just having lunch.”

Your hand flexes again, making you throw your fork on the floor (the second one in the space of fifteen minutes) and sigh. You go to pick it up, only for George to beat you to it. “Here.”

“Than—“ you click as your head jerks forward “Thank you.”

“Don’t you two have places to be?” Bailey asks, less than impressed with her two interns in front of her. They both nod and scurry off, back to their table to tell Cristina and Izzie about Dr McDreamy’s kid.

—•—

“I don’t know how they cope with it,” George muses as the group of four interns sit on some beds in the back corridor, waiting to be paged for something.

“Yeah, twitching all the time. God, I’d kill myself if I had them,” Izzie continues. “Would ruin my chances at both medicine and modelling. And a lot of other things, probably.”

“Do you think they wanted to go into medicine? Y’know, before they started twitching? Or have they always had it?” Cristina asks. “Or do they have a tumour?”

“For your information,” a voice cuts in, making all four jump and turn to the source, meeting the likes of Dr Shepherd, “Y/N wants to be a lawyer.” He walks down the corridor to them, everyone’s cheeks turning red a the prospect of being caught gossiping. “The tics developed about eighteen months ago, just before we moved to Seattle. It’s not a tumour, or any kind of swelling; in fact, we have no clue what set it off.”

“Have you done an MRI? CT?” Meredith suggests and Derek nods.

“We ran everything. It all came back clean.” He looks at Cristina. “They did want to be a doctor. When we realised we couldn’t cure them, they were upset for weeks. They—“

“Talking about me?” A voice calls down the corridor and Derek’s face splits into a smile, something that doesn’t go amiss by the others. You whistle, making it to the group and taking a seat next to your dad. You lean on him… until your neck twitches and you almost fall back. Derek’s hand shoots out, supporting you.

“We were just—“ Izzie tries to say before you cut her off, clicking in the process.

“Let me guess.” You whistle. “The doctor que—“ you click “—question and how I live with—“ your neck jerks to the side “—it.”

Your dad gives you a smile. “Ten out of ten for you,” he smiles. You nod.

“Well, I used to want to—“ you click “—be a doctor, until we found out this is incurable.” You whistle. “Pretty soul-crushing.” Your neck jerks back, and if it wasn’t for your dad’s hand, you would’ve hit the wall. “And we’ve learned to adapt to it. There are—“ you click “—days where I’m fine, with only a few, and days—“ you whistle and everyone can feel the frustration radiating off you. Still, no one chooses to finish your sentence, letting you get it out yourself “—like this.”

—•—

For a while, the six make general conversation, until, slowly but surely, you start to drift off. It isn’t until there’s an odd silence that Derek notices, and he has a smile on his face as he looks down at you, asleep on his shoulder.

“They look so… peaceful,” Izzie comments quietly, the others agreeing.

“Yeah. We’ve had a few rough days this week. God knows they need the rest,” Derek mutters. He shifts to look between the four. “Any of you wake them, I’ll make sure you’re banned from the OR for a month.”

Everyone’s eyes widen as they nod in unison; they’re all begging for a chance at more surgery. Carefully, Derek manoeuvres you so your head’s lying in his lap, body stretched out on the hospital bed. He carefully cards his fingers through your hair, detangling it as gently as he can.

The interns’ pagers go off, assigning them jobs and the four rush off, leaving Derek and you to rest. He smiles, getting himself comfortable sitting on the end of the bed, back against the wall.

“Get some rest, buddy. I’ll always be here for you.”

—•—

Hope y'all enjoyed. I know it's pretty different from what I usually write, but this is for my own comfort so...

Sorry not sorry

Taglist

@breadsticks2004 @criminalsmarts @rororo06@ogmilkis@ssebstann@herecomesthewriterwitch @garcias-batcave @spidey-reids-2003 @lovelylaurens@sataninsatin@snarky--starky @mcntsee @averyhotchner @dindjarinsspouse @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love

#derek shepherd #teen reader #Derek Shepherd x teen reader #Derek Shepherd x reader #platonic #tics #twitches #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #greys anatomy

[quindolyn]

hi love! I’m in love w ur blog, Could u do a marauders smut w an obedient sub james and a bratty sun reader and like punishment w dom remus and james? (sorry if that was confusing)

She’ll Never Learn || Poly!Marauders

Word Count: 3612

A/N: I kinda like this piece, we’ll see. In the course of writing this piece I was delayed a good hour because my laptop died on me and I broke my charging cable earlier today so that’s a whole shit show and I had to finish this on my school computer. That’s how much I love you guys. And a special thank you to everyone who bullied me, I still procrastinated for another 1-2 hours after that.

Warnings: face slapping, words like stupid and slut used, male penetration, exhibitionist kink, dom/sub, degradation, poly obviously, i’m tired please tell me if there’s any that I missed

Masterlist

Part 2

The fact you couldn’t do it was half the fun. For you anyways, the whole thing seemed to make James nervous, he’d broken a few rules here and there before but never had he been so conscious of the disobedience he was about to take part in.

“Our Daddies are gonna be mad if they catch us,” James grumbled as you pulled him up the staircase to the boy’s dorm, dragging him by the sleeve of his school issued button-up. 

Had he put up any resistance he would’ve easily been able to cease your assent up the staircase, his body strong and toned from Quidditch but he didn’t, he allowed himself to be pulled up the stairs to the dorm room he shared with Sirius and Remus.

“Well neither of them have to know, now do they?” You asked him as you opened the door to their dorm which they kept tidy for you, knowing that you couldn’t stand mess.

As you kicked the door closed behind you and toed off your shoes you caught a glimpse of the boy’s face as he studied your form unabashedly as you started expertly undoing the buttons on your top before shrugging it off your shoulders and letting it pool at your feet.

“Come on Jamie,” You cooed mockingly as you strode towards him, his eyes glued to your breasts, “If they don’t know about this then we can have fun, it’s so hard with them sometimes isn’t it, with them getting in the way?” You watched his Adam’s apple bob as you played with the scarlet material of his tie, teasingly tugging on it. 

“But if they find out-”

You cut him off by pulling him down by his tie, melding your lips with his, though he was considerably taller than you he bent all the way down to kiss you, becoming pliable in your hands as you ran your fingers through his raven tresses.

Lacing your hands together at the back of his head, interweaving your fingers with his fluffy curls you pulled slightly, resulting in the man’s mouth to open as a gentle groan tumbled from his lips. You smirked into the kiss, knowing that you had won as you backed yourself up towards one of the beds in the room, you allowed yourself to sit when your knees bumped up against the mattress. 

“Want this off,” You muttered, clumsily working on undoing his tie until you were able to pull it off of him. “This too,” You said, already starting on the top button of his shirt.

Having pushed the pesky garment off of his broad shoulders you took a moment to run the palms of your hands up and down the smooth muscles of his muscled chest. Goosebumps rose under your touch as he leaned in towards you.

“Good boy,” You murmured, throwing your head back against the pillow, knowing that the praise would do just the trick to convince him to break the rules with you. Corrupting him, now that was also a part of the fun for you, little old Jamie would’ve never fathomed doing something like this if you hadn’t convinced him, there was just something so undeniably hot about the way you could so easily manipulate him. The way that with two simple words we was a whimpering mess with his mouth latched on your nipple.

You whined as he lifted his mouth moving it to the other nipple both at the loss of contact and then the new found stimulation.

James didn’t hear the opening and the closing of the door from behind him, too focused on sucking on the delicate flesh of your tit but you did, Remus and Sirius had caught you. Smirking to yourself you realized that if you worked the next ten or so seconds correctly you would be in for a treat. 

“Jamie!” You moaned, dramatically thrusting your chest up into his mouth, “Feels so good when you suck my tit Jamsie, making me so wet.” Deciding laying it on extra thick was only going to help your mission: you wrapped your legs around James’ waist and started thrusting your hips into his. 

“Can you believe these two?” The dark haired man asked his partner incredulously, “Did you give them permission to do this?”

At the sound of Sirius’ voice James jumped off of you, a guilty look gracing his face as he immediately dropped to his knees in front of them, not even wiping the spit from his mouth.

“No Pads,” Remus responded, his eyes on James rather than Sirius, a frown took over his face as he moved his gaze to your half naked form, “Did you?”

“Nope,” Sirius replied, popping his p as he stuck his hands into the front pockets of his trousers, lazily sauntering over to where James sat subserviently on the ground, “Thought you were my good boy Jamie, what happened?” He asked in a sickly sweet sort of voice that had James in a puddle at his feet and you rolling your eyes back in your head, not noticing Remus’ piercing gaze set on you. If you paid close enough attention, the tension radiating off the man was suffocating but Remus had always been able to blend into his surroundings, making it all the more startling when he pounced.

James’ response came in the form of a pathetic little whine as Sirius turned his face up to meet him with his index finger, the boy was malleable in the other man’s grasp. 

“Come on, answer Daddy’s question, don’t be a brat,” At the very mention of the word brat James’ eyes snapped up to Sirius’, that was his worst nightmare, being a brat, failing either Sirius or Remus. It terrified him, and Sirius knew James like the back of his hand. 

“M’sorry, m’so, so sorry I didn’t want to break the rules but (Y/N) said that it would be okay, that we wouldn’t get caught and then she kissed me and-” He rambled, his hands nervously tumbling about each other in his lap, his gaze never wavering from Sirius.

“Pathetic slut,” You swore, stalking off from the bed to where Sirius stood in front of James, “You were just as into it as I was, both of us broke the rules don’t try to back out now, don’t be a bad boy Jamie.”

You opened your mouth to continue but you were cut off by a sharp slap to the side of your face as Sirius’ hand met your cheek.

“Ow,” You whimpered, clutching the side of your face in your hand as you glared at Sirius, taking a step back towards the bed, “What was that for?”

“Oh don’t act stupid, you know that you get punished when you break the rules Puppy. And calling James a bad boy,” His eyes softened as he tore them from you, moving them to gaze down at the boy who still knelt at his feet, “You’re not a bad boy are you Jamie?”

He shook his head silently, eyes locked onto Sirius’.

“He’s acting like one, throwing me under the bus,” You grumbled, still rubbing the side of your face. 

“Did anyone say you could talk?” Remus questioned you, his voice oddly calm as he strode towards you, in no time at all reaching your body.

He raised a hand to the side of your you were clutching, coaxing away your hand to replace it with his own. He ran the palm of his hand over the flesh before pulling it back to bring it against your face, more harshly than Sirius had.

The action pulled a whine from your throat as your flesh was abused by the calloused palm of Remus’ hand. In a second he had adjusted his hand so that it was gripping your jaw, using his hold on you there to tug your entire body closer to his person.

“You really expect us to fucking buy that,” He squished your cheeks together harder and harder with every passing second, “Jamsie has always been our best boy, you on the other hand Puppy, you’ve got a bit of a bratty side to you.”

“It’s not fair,” You tried to wiggle yourself out of Remus’ grasp, moving your hands to grapple at his wrist, trying to pull away from him but he was unmoving, not only being much taller than you but much stronger than you, your efforts were in vain, “He broke the rules too, he’s not your good boy he’s a fucking slut!”

“That’s it!” Sirius’ voice rang through the dorm, still positioned next to James who still sat on the floor now with his fingers entangled in the other boy’s dark curls, “On the bed, now.” His command left no room for argument as Remus let go of your face, but you just stood there, not moving until he gave you a not so gentle nudge towards the bed you had previously been seated upon.

You had to stop yourself from trembling as you sat upon the bed, it wasn’t that you were scared. No, this was exactly what you had hoped for, you were giddy.

“If anyone here is desperate, puppy it’s you, look at this,” Sirius sneered, pushing your legs apart so that your bare pussy was on display, just as you had forgone a bra you had decided to go without panties, anticipating this moment. “No panties,” He tutted, crouching down so that he was level with your pussy as he boldly ran a finger through your sopping folds, “You planned this didn’t you?” HIs eyes darted up to meet yours and with a single glance he knew.

“Course she planned it, Pads,” Remus chimed in from where he leaned against the frame of one of the other beds, “Are you just now figuring that out? Our puppy thought she could break the rules and we’d make her feel good, thought she’d enjoy her punishment.”

As his words washed over you you felt a wave of disappointment, they weren’t going to give you what you wanted.

Sensing your disappointment Sirius recaptured your jaw in his hand, “Don’t pout baby, you’re gonna take your punishment like a good girl, yeah?”

Putting on your best “James face” eye wide and pleading, lips pushed out in a small pout, head cocked to the side you extended a single hand to grope at Sirius’ crotch, squeezing his clothed member in the palm of your hand.

“Daddy,” You begged, knowing that you were breaking another rule, touching them without permission. 

Remus rolled his eyes and was at your side in the blink of an eye, wrenching your hand away from Sirius’ bulge, “You know you’re not allowed to touch without permission,” He scolded as though he was bored with your insolent behavior. “Did you forget?”

“No, Daddy,” You shook your head looking up at him as Sirius’ adjusted so that your head was turned towards the other man.

Remus’ hold on your wrist tightened, “Oh, so you just decided to break the rules?”

You stuttered, not quite sure how to answer his question, “I-I…”

“That’s what I thought,” He spat, letting go of your wrist so that it could land on your thigh, not bothering to look over his shoulder he spoke to James, instead keeping his eyes on you, “Jamie, can you pull up the armchair for me?”

Rushing to obey, James squeaked out a small “yes” before pulling the aforementioned chair to the foot of the bed before redirected by Remus to place it by the side of the bed. You couldn’t help but ogle the boy as he moved about the room, well developed muscles rippling under his skin as he stretched and twisted his body.

“Up,” Remus ordered you with a flick of his wrist towards the chair you were pulled from your seat and dragged to the chair by some invisible force. With another flick of his wrist you were positioned to his liking, legs spread and thrown over the arms of the chair, arms linked together behind your back and as you tried to tug yourself out of that position you found you were immobile. Remus and his fucking talent for wandless magic.

“I’m uncomfortable, Daddy,” You trilled, trying to move in your seat and failing tremendously. 

“What did we say about talking?” Sirius scoffed at you undoing the buttons on his uniform shirt one at a time until he was able to shed his clothing.

“Jamsie, could you grab me a vibrator, the purple one?” Remus asked as he too rid himself of his shirt.

Being the dutiful boy he was, James promptly handed Remus the small clit vibrator who idly played with the switch, turning it on and then back off for a few seconds before his stern gaze lifted to your form and a small smirk graced his face. 

“Pads?” The werewolf turned to look at the boy, “You wanna do the honors?”

Sirius grinned like an idiot as he slid the toy from his lover’s hand, slipping it onto your clit before turning it on, placing a light sticking charm on you as to ensure the toy would stay put. 

“No cumming unless we say so, do you understand Puppy?” Everything about him from the tone of his voice to his eyes mocked you as he spoke, letting you know he was having way too much fun with this.

You managed a small nod but couldn’t help but jolt at the sudden pleasure that coursed through you as the vibrations of the vibrator stimulated your clit. If you had been physically capable you would’ve bucked your hips up but that being impossible left the pleasure to only fester more as the itch to move intensified the ecstasy setting deep in your bones.

Being so distracted by the stimulation on your clit you almost missed as Remus took James’ face in his hands and meshed their lips together, pushing his tongue into the smaller boy’s mouth, Remus dug his hands in his hair. The moan that James released as Remus tugged on his locks must’ve made Sirius feel left out because in a second he was behind the two boys tugging Remus’ face away from James’, interlocking his lips with the taller man’s, he replaced Remus’ hands in James’ hair with his own.

“Daddy,” You whined, not addressing either of them particularly just wanting attention. 

“Shush, they’re giving me attention right now,” James said to you, looking to the other two boys for approval at his show of dominance.

Remus granted such, pulling away from his kiss with Sirius to extoll him, “Good boy Jamie, putting Puppy in her place.”

Getting the approval he craved at all times a gigantic grin cracked across his face, “May I touch you Daddy?” 

“Yes you may, good boy.”

Not wasting a single second, as eager as ever, James lunged towards the larger boy, attaching his lips to his pulse point, gently sucking small marks that bloomed in brilliant shades of blue and purple along the side of his neck.

The distinct clink of metal drew your attention to Sirius where he stood undoing his belt allowing him to drop his trousers, leaving him only in a pair of dark grey boxers which proudly displayed his prominent bulge. 

Sirius didn’t even spare you a glance as he moved back towards the pair, pressing his erection against James’ back while shamelessly groping his firm ass. James threw his head back onto his shoulder, abandoning Remus’ neck as the erection pressed into him and the hands on his ass overwhelmed him.

“Want inside him Rem,” Sirius groaned while he laved his tongue up and down the expanse of James’ neck, “Need inside of him,” He corrected himself.

“You think you’re ready for us Jamie?” The lycanthrope murmured in his ear, “Are you ready to take our cocks.”

Despite your most valiant efforts a moan escaped from your mouth at Remus’ words, watching James get fucked was one of your most favorite things, he was so beautiful stretched out on one of their cocks, a sobbing, moaning mess as he was split in two. But usually you got to touch him, or Remus, or Sirius, or at the very least yourself. 

The idea of not being able to touch yourself was absolute hell. Throw in the vibrator attached to your clit and your explicit order not to cum you were absolutely fucked as pleasure began to simmer in the pit of your belly, making your orgasm seem less and less far off.

You watched, practically drooling, as your boyfriends disrobed allowing their hard cocks to spring out against their stomachs, each distinctly different from the other but completely mouth watering in their own way. Your boys were perfect, all the way down to the tips of their pricks but something about seeing them in all their perfection and not being able to touch them made you a surprising mix of angry and turned on. Especially when you considered that it was them who had put you there, tied up and horny.

“Can I join Daddies, pretty please?” You begged as you watched James situate himself on the bed on his hands and knees, pushing his ass back towards Remus who was settling in behind him. “I’ll be a good girl I promise!”

“You wanna be a good girl?” Sirius mocked, pumping his cock in his hand to get it harder.

You nodded your head pathetically, giving Sirius the best puppy dog eyes you could muster with the haze settling into your mind.

Remus spoke before Sirius could, his eyes focused on the pool between your legs, “Can’t take you seriously when your pretty pussy is on display for us like that, makes you look almost as pathetic and desperate as you are.”

You groaned at the degradation, turning back to Sirius, even if he did agree to free you you would still need to convince Remus but it would at least be a start.

“If you wanna be a good girl you’re gonna sit there and be quiet while you watch us fuck Jamsie.”

Feeling defeated you wished you could drop your head into your hands, but the full body bind that had been placed on you made it hard to so much as blink.

You watched, despite yourself really, with bated breath as Remus pushed into the warmth of James’ opening, having used a lubrication spell to prepare him. The moan that the boy released went straight to your pussy and made it hard for you to think clearly as you watched him drop from his hands to his elbows before Sirius helped him back up so that he could push his cock into his mouth.

Screw waterboarding, this was a special kind of evil, cruel and unusual. With every sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet gagging noises that came as Sirius forced his cock further and further down James’ throat accompanied by the vibrator still stimulating your clit, it had your body going into overdrive to work to suppress your oncoming orgasm to the point where is was painful.

Before either of your three boyfriends showed any signs that they were even close to their orgasms you were screaming, “Please let me cum, I’ll be a good girl I promise please! I’m so sorry, please forgive me!” 

You sounded piteous.

“Shut up,” Remus threw at you as he picked up his pace in thrusting in and out of James, drinking up his moans like they were the only things keeping him going.

“Please, I’m gonna cum I can’t stop it please!” You cried out, tears rolling down your face at the effort it took you to suppress your climax. You weren’t lying, your orgasm was approaching you without remorse and no matter how hard you tried to fight it, it was by far a losing battle.

You held on for as long as you could, trying to use the lights and sounds in the room to tether you but before you were completely overwhelmed by the pleasure boiling up in your stomach and rising up your spine you screamed, “I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry Daddy, wanna be your good girl!”

As most of your orgasms were this one was absolutely overwhelming, flooding your senses with pure, unadulterated pleasure until all you could focus on was the warm feeling that washed over you and the ache in your cunt as the vibrator continued its assault against your pussy.

The added stimulation made it harder to come back as your climax subsided and the noises and voices that had once sounded muffled, as though you had been under water were clear as they reached your ears.

The first thing you heard as the fog began to lift from your head was a familiar but far off voice, “She’ll never learn will she?”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @pauloonig @oliviashea05 @gxtitobxby

#harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #marauders x reader #harry potter imagine #james potter #james potter x reader #marauders fanfic #marauders fanfiction #Remus lupin #Remus lupin x reader #Sirius black #sirius black x reader #james potter fanfiction #James potter smut #remus lupin fanfiction #Remus lupin smut #sirius black fanfiction #Sirius black smut #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader

[patheticdarling]

What if They’re Like Me?

   Summary: Reader is with child and Loki is worried that his child is bound to be like him, a Frost Giant. Loki is constantly having second thoughts about their life together and Reader has to reassure him that she will love him regardless. 

   Warnings: coarse language/mentions of pregnancy/self-doubt/sad Loki

   Word Count: 1615

*NOT MY GIF*

   “Thor?” you called out to your brother-in-law, “Thor? Are you in here?”

   “Y/N? That you?” you heard Thor’s gruff voice as you walked into the corridor. 

   “There you are,” you sighed upon seeing your brother-in-law stuffing his face with grapes, nuts, and ale. 

   “Why’re you looking for me?” he asked as he sipped his cup, “And where’s Loki? Shouldn’t he be hovering over you?”

   “I was just going to ask you the same thing,” you explained, “I can’t find him anywhere” 

   “Well I’m sure he couldn’t have gone far,” Thor shrugged, “Especially with your,” he gestured to your extremely swollen belly, “condition.” He awkwardly cleared his throat.

  You chuckled, “You know it’s not a crime to say the word pregnant. It’s certainly no secret either.” Your hands cradling your bump. 

   Thor laughed as he finished off a bundle of grapes, “I suppose not.” 

   “I’m worried about him,” Thor gave you a puzzled look, “Loki,” he nodded, “He’s been so distant since I’ve started my third trimester. I thought maybe it was just the nerves but he’s hardly ever around anymore. And every time I try to bring up the baby, he’s so quick to change the subject. He isn’t having second thoughts, is he? Thor, has he told you anything?” 

   “What? No,” Thor answered, “Believe me, I would’ve told you. I have no idea why he’s acting like that. Maybe it really is just nerves, Y/N.”

   You shook your head, “I’m not so sure.”

  Thor pondered for a moment before his eyes all but lit up, “I know who you should talk to! Mum! Nobody knows Loki better than she does. Well, besides you but seeing as that’s not really an option.” 

   You laughed, “Good idea. Do you know where she is?” 

   “Usually by this time, she’s in the gardens,” he dusted off his hands before tossing back his goblet, “Here,” he extended his arm, “I’ll take you to her.”

   “Thor, it’s alright, I can find her myself-”

   “Nonsense,” he cut you off, “In your state, you should always have a proper escort.” 

   You rolled your eyes, “Whatever you say.” 

   Thor and you walked through the halls of the palace, greeting people as you passed. 

   “Prince Thor, Princess Y/N,” one of the kitchen girls curtsied as you passed. 

   “Princess,” you chuckled under your breath, “Still doesn’t sound normal, no matter how many times someone calls me it.” 

   “You get used to it,” Thor smirked. 

   “Says the boy who was raised to be future king,” you teased. 

   Thor shrugged, “It’s not that big of a deal.” 

   You scoffed as you entered the gardens, “Keep telling yourself that, Your Majesty.”

   Thor chuckled as you found Queen Frigga near one of the reflecting pools, scattering flower petals in the bright blue water. 

   “Hello, Mother,” Thor greeted. 

   Her eyes shot up from the water, “Thor,” she smiled, kissing her son’s cheek, “Y/N,” she hugged you, “My, look at you. You’re glowing, my dear.”

   You blushed, “Thank you, Your Grace.” 

   She giggled, “No need for such formalities, love. Especially when it’s just family. So, please, call me Frigga.” 

   You nodded, smiling. Thor cleared his throat, “Mother, have you seen Loki? Y/N and I have tried but we just can’t seem to find him anywhere.” 

   “Sounds like he really doesn’t want to be found then if he’s hiding from Y/N,” she answered. 

   “So, he is hiding from me?” you asked. 

   She sighed, placing her hand on my shoulder, “Loki, no matter how hard he tries to hide it or convince others, is an extremely perceptive person. And he is one of the harshest over-thinkers I have ever known.” 

   “Mother, what’re you talking about?” Thor interjected. 

   “He’s avoiding Y/N because he’s scared. Of what? I’m not completely sure. But I know it has to be something quite serious for him to be acting this way.” 

   You let out a shaky breath, “I just wish he’d let me talk to him. Or at least, ask him why he’s acting this way. But, obviously, he doesn’t want to be found so might as well just drop it then.”

   “Y/N-” Thor reached out for you.

   “No,” you backed away from his touch, “I’m sorry. I just need to rest, I think. I’ll be in my bed chambers if anyone needs me.” 

   You sped off as fast as you could, ignoring the calls from Thor and Frigga as you made your way to you and Loki’s bed chambers. You had almost forgotten you shared them until you set your eyes on the emerald silk sheets that adorned your bed. You couldn’t bear to look at the place that you had shared so many special moments with Loki so you left the room, heading down the hall. Taking a left as you expected to enter what was going to be your child’s future nursery, finding a quiet place to be alone. Not at all expecting to find Loki there, him looking just as surprised to see you. 

   “Oh,” you swallowed, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother. I’ll just go.” you moved to shut the door. 

   “Y/N, wait,” Loki called, grabbing your arm and pulling you back into the room. A wave of his hand and the door was shut.

   “What is it, Loki? I thought you didn’t want to speak to me,” you answered, not meeting his eyes. 

   “What? What’re you talking about?” 

   “Don’t be coy, Loki. You’ve been avoiding me for days, maybe even weeks. And your mother said that you might be overthinking something. And I, for the life of me, cannot figure out what that might be!” 

   “Y/N, please-”

   “You know that when you marry someone, you’re supposed to trust them,” you cut him off, “Supposed to be able to turn to them when you feel like you have nobody else. Not cut them off and leave them completely in the dark. I am your wife, Loki! You’re supposed to be able to confide in me, no matter what-” 

   Loki grabbed your shoulders, holding you in place, “Will you please just listen to me for one second?” 

   You took a deep breath, “Fine,” you nodded, “Go ahead.”

  “Thank you,” he let out a soft chuckle before taking your hand and leading you to sit at the toy chest that sat in the nursery, “Y/N, I have not been avoiding you because I don’t want to talk to you.” 

   “But you have been avoiding me,” you interjected.

   Loki sighed, “I suppose I have. But I promise it has nothing to do with you.” 

   “Really?” you scoffed, “Because all I can think about is what I might’ve done to fuck this marriage up.” 

   Loki shook his head, “You’ve done nothing, my love,” he brought your hand to his lips, “I swear it.” 

   You couldn’t help but melt at his touch, “Then what’s wrong? Why won’t you talk to me?” 

   “It’s complicated,” he answered. You quirked a brow at him, “Who am I kidding?” he chuckled dryly, “It’s really not.” You smiled softly, “Y/N, you’re aware of my true parentage.”

   You nodded, “Of course. Loki, is that what this is about? I’ve already told you, I love you for you. Nothing, not even that, will ever change the fact that I do.” 

   Loki smiled softly, his eyes getting a bit glossy, “Thank you,” his voice shaking a bit, “And I love you too. Which is why I’m so angry with myself for not discussing this with you sooner.” 

   “What is there to discuss?”

   “What if...” his voice faded off as he let out a quick sniffle. 

   “Loki, what if what? What’s going on, darling?” 

   “What if they’re like me?” he asked. 

   “Like you?” you repeated. 

   Loki wiped his eyes, “You know. A Jotun. A Frost Giant. A monster.” 

  “Loki,” you cooed, “You’re not a monster.” 

  He nearly scoffed at your words, “Aren’t I? I’m the monster that Asgardian children read about in their bedtime stories. I’m a freak. A danger to those around me. I can’t believe I was selfish enough to let things go this far. And now having to put you and our child through it, I can’t help but fucking hate myself for it.” 

   Tears had now begun to run down the side of your face, “Stop it,” you shook your head. Loki persisted, “Loki, stop it now!” He sort of jumped at your tone, “Now you listen to me, right now. You are not a monster or a freak or anything of that sort,” his teary eyes were glued to the floor as you spoke softly, “You are Prince Loki Odinson of Asgard. Brother to Thor, Son of Odin and Frigga. God of Mischief and Mayhem. But most importantly, you are my husband, the father to my child, and the absolute love of my life. Do you hear me? You are all of those things. And a monster is never and will never be one of them, is that understood?” 

   Loki took a deep breath, nodding softly as he lifted his eyes to meet yours, “Understood.”

   You wiped away his tears gently, “Good,” you cupped his face in your hands, “Don’t ever forget who you truly are, my love,” he nodded, “Promise me.” 

   “I promise,” Loki whispered, kissing the inside of your hand before pulling your lips softly onto his. 

   You rested your forehead to his as you brought his hand to your bump, “I love you, Loki.” 

   He smiled as he caressed over your bump, “I love you, Y/N. I can’t help but hope our child is just like you, my love.”

   “I prefer them to take after their father, if I’m being completely honest,” you both grinned softly. 

#loki odinson #loki friggason #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki oneshot #loki fanfic #loki angst #loki laufeyson x reader #loki #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu angst #thor odinson #thor #frost giant #loki jotun #dad loki #husband loki #prince loki #y/n #loki x female reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #fem reader #female reader #asgard #prince of asgard #queen frigga

[anyoneseenadam]

Hi I was wondering if you could do a Azriel x reader where they are cuddling and talking after a long day of work?

pairing: azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: mental health/anxiety being mean, insecurity, asides from that it’s pure fluff and nice and lovey dovey

a/n: I love writing fluff omg, I went in a slightly different route that I intended with this one but I hope you like it :))))

------------------------------------------------------------------

You pushed the heavy wooden door of your home open, dragging your legs in as you fought to keep your eyes open. You pushed the door closed with your back, leaning your head against it, and closing your eyes for a second, before sliding down, still leaning against the door, and wrestling to remove you shoes with a huff.

You heard a cough ahead of you and looked up to see Azriel fondly watching you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He was still in his leathers, so you presumed he had just beat you home, his tired eyes sparkling with humour as he watched you struggle with your boots. You didn’t say anything as you stood and padded over to him on heavy feet, wrapping your arms around his middle and squeezing your eyes shut.

You didn’t want to think of the long week you had dealt with, you just wanted to bury yourself under a mountain of pillows and blankets and maybe wrap your limbs around Azriel like a koala bear. He wrapped his arms around you, scarred hands rubbing up and down your back as the two of you stood together in silence, simply breathing in the other and allowing your souls to be reacquainted.

When you first met Azriel he had wandered into your shop on a whim, wanting to get Feyre some flowers to congratulate her on the pregnancy and he remembered Elain had mentioned this shop being one of her favourites. He had expected to be in and out, not in the mood for a long conversation, or any conversation for that matter. But as soon as he saw your pretty face, your flowy, dress that stopped just above your dirt covered knees, all his plans were thrown out the window.

“Can I help you?” you had asked, sweet-lipped, your voice sounding the way cherries tasted, sweet but with a deeper richness. A smooth tone that he could listen to for hours.

He ended up buying as many flowers as he could without seeming insane, not wanting you to ever stop speaking, wanting you to explain the meaning behind every flower in your store if it meant he got to stay with you.

You had noticed him as well of course. Who wouldn’t, he was beautiful and carried himself with so much grace and poise that you were sure he was a fallen angel. You had lengthened your descriptions of the flowers, face heating when you realised you were rambling and fighting a grin when he asked you to continue.

You had invited him to sit with you as you were brewing tea and he had accepted, sipping tentatively at the tea you told him you grew yourself, the greenhouse in your garden perfect for the needed flowers. The two of you had spoken for hours before he left, ignoring the confused looks from his friends when he came home with six separate bouquets of flowers. Instead deciding to picture your pretty face as he lay in bed that night, finally getting rest for the first time in weeks.

Now, you were wrapped up in his arms, still not speaking. He didn’t worry too much, he knew that sometimes you weren’t ready to speak, that some days you just needed some quiet to process your day and come back to yourself. When you had first explained the way you would drift from your own mind, feeling as if you were floating above your own body Azriel had almost cried, the realisation that maybe he wasn’t the only one in the world, that maybe there was someone for him after all.

He lifted you into his arms and carried you to the kitchen, carefully avoiding the plants littered around the house, before shifting you onto one hip like a baby, knowing you wouldn’t be letting go any time soon. He set about brewing your favourite tea, smiling as he picked up the pot that you had shared the fifth time he came to visit you.

The store had been closed but you had invited him, so he pushed in, cringing at himself when he realised how early he was but all his thoughts came to a halt when he heard that sweet voice of yours coming from your apartment above your shop.

“My lovers got humour, she's the giggle at a funeral, knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshiped her sooner. If the Heavens ever did speak, she's the last true mouthpiece, every Sunday's getting more bleak a fresh poison each week- AH!” you screamed when you saw him standing in the doorway, pressing a hand to your heart as it slowed back to its regular beat. “Fuck you, oh my.”

He genuinely laughed then, not expecting to hear you swear. The girl who had green stained fingers and who fed stray cats, the girl who always decorated for every holiday and who apologised when she bumped into inanimate objects. Your face was hot to the touch and you wouldn’t look him in the eyes, so he had stopped laughing, moving to up your face, forcing you to look in his eyes.

“You have the prettiest voice I’ve ever heard.” He said sincerely but you scoffed,

“No I really don’t,” you laughed but he saw the insecurities then, “I know it’s whiny.” He frowned; your voice having been one of your most attractive traits in his eyes. He had started to see beneath your cracks then, but now with you wrapped around him he remembered how deep they went.

“Do you want to talk about it baby?” he asked carefully, not wanting to startle you, knowing how deep you could get in your head, tiny noises startling you when you were zoned out.

“Bad brain.” Was all you muttered, and he frowned but just kissed your forehead and continued making your tea. When he was done he carried both you and the tea through to your bedroom, setting the tea down before twisting you again and carrying you to the bathroom. He sat you on the side of the bath and wet a cloth, cleaning the makeup from your face, and moisturising your skin before picking you back up and taking you back to your room. You slowly changed into one of his shirts and some loose boxers before crawling under the duvet and reaching your hands out to Azriel who had changed into his pyjama bottoms.

He crawled in next to you, pulling you into his chest, his wings wrapping around the two of you and then his shadows settling over both of you, protecting you from the outside world.

“How was your week?” he asked, one hand coming up to play with your hair knowing how much it relaxed you and feeling his heart warm when he felt you smile against his neck.

“Bit shit,”

“How so?”

“Just rude customers, and this one guy wanted like two dozen flowers which I made up but then he couldn’t pay and trashed the bouquets I had made him. Plus all the noise made my anxiety play up,” you muttered, and he frowned, not liking how put out you sounded.

“Want me to kill him?” he asked, only half-joking.

“I think that’s a bit extreme,” you laughed into his shoulder.

“Lightly maim then?”

“Maybe just a scare, make him think his house is haunted or something,”

“That I can do.” He smiled, kissing you, happy to have you partially back to him.

“What about you, how was your week, I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.”

“I know, sorry. I’ve been doing some stuff for Rhys.”

“I’m presuming I’m not allowed to hear about it,” you said, well aware of how secretive his job was.

“It’s not a mission per say, I’m just babysitting.”

“Is it fun at least?” you asked, grinning at him cheekily and he scrunched up his face, thinking back over his week of baby sitting two horny Fae’s while he dreamt of being in your little apartment.

“Not the word I would use, they’re too horny for their own good.”

“The babies?!”

“No! NO! They’re not actually children!” he backtracked as you collapsed into a fit of giggles, Azriel joining you soon after. “You know I think they suspect something,” he said once you finally calmed down, “I think they’ve worked out I’m sneaking off.”

“Hmm, guess we have to kill them then.” You mused and Azriel grinned,

“Only reasonable course of action.”

“I mean we’d be fools not to,”

“Clearly.” He laughed, before tightening his grip, “seriously though, do you want to meet them?”

“I mean, yeah. I think it’d be nice,” he noticed your mood had shifted again and nudged you, imploring you to continue, “It’s just you’re all so accomplished and amazing, powerful people and I’m just… me.”

He tried to ignore the pain that stabbed into his heart at your self-deprecating words, having thought them about himself enough times to know how they felt. “Don’t say that, you’re an incredible person. And even if you weren’t the kindest, sweetest person I had ever met, you’re still the girl I love and honestly I think Cassian is one ex-girlfriend away from selling me to the highest bidder.”

You laughed and nuzzled in farther, “Kindest person you’ve ever met?”

“Well asides from the occasional death threats,”

“ah yes, ignoring that. Of course.” He laughed and kissed your forehead, eyes closing as he heard your voice get softer and your breath slower.

“I love you.” He whispered into your hair as you felt your eyelids droop, the weight of the week lifted off of your shoulders as you buried yourself in Azriel’s arms, peaceful in his embrace.

“I love you.”

#acofas #acomaf #acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #acowar #acofs #acosf

[xsugarysweetsx]

Congrats on 2k mama sweet,,,!! :))

Since there is no sk8 requests yet how about option 2 - Kaoru x reader <3 Had this thought after reading ur arranged marriage fic... how about at the start of the marriage reader thinks that Kaoru is cheating on her when he sneaks out at night but after he tells her about S, reader feels kinda silly for thinking so.. next thing you know Kaoru is taking reader to all the beefs as his lucky charm. Reader even has a matching costume and the others start calling her "Lady Cherry" or smth,, teaches reader to skate (she's lowkey jealous of carla >.<) + some domestic fluff (what if reader finds out she's pregnant....) This doesn't have to be connected to the other fic & you can ignore the cheating part if u like... :-*

A/N: :0 Lady Cherry is a super smart name!

other fic here

Please enjoy~🍰

*******************************************************

There he went again...

The sliding door of your shared room altered you from your sleep. This was the 6th night in a row that he left without a word in the middle of the night. The first 2 nights you thought he was simply tending to business and was just busy. After the 4th day, you were suspicious and a bit hurt. He did tell you he didn’t want to hurt you and treat you right....so where was he going?

This was another night he had gotten up, so instead of staying in bed you followed him. 

“Carla, make sure to lock the doors when I leave“ he said to his AI

“Yes, master“ you scoffed. You had to admit the stupid computer got on your nerves. He practically loved talking to her and every time she answered him, he gets all giddy. You were really jealous but you wish he’d get that way with you.  

Just as he was going to leave you called for him

“Kaoru?“ he froze and turned around “It’s late...“ you said coming closer to him. That’s when you noticed what he was wearing, he was in a sleeveless yukata with a black mask over his face, and a...skateboard?

“Y/N I...um...“ being that he can’t speak about S he was contemplating whether to tell you or not. But you were his wife and he wanted to be open with you on everything. However what you said next caught him off guard

“...if there’s someone else please just tell me...“ and the way you looked when you said it just broke his heart. Did you really think he was cheating? Even though this was arranged, he couldn’t ask for someone better to be his wife. You were smart, shy but bright, not to mention beautiful.

“Y/N“ he walked to you and rests his hand on your shoulder “I would never cheat on you and I assure you there is no one else.”

“Then why do you leave at night?“ you ask

“*Sigh*....I go skating.“ he said bluntly. There was nothing to hide from you and it was all true

“...huh“ he lifted his board for you to see

“Some friends and I go skateboarding in a secret location for races and such. We only go at night so we go unnoticed.“ he held up a small pin “It’s called S..now that you know you can’t tell anyone. Now go throw something on, we’re heading out.“

Just as he said you were heading out in the dead of night. And of course you had to ride on Carla, every time he spoke to her it was like he was talking to his crush. As you approach a gate with two guards he gives you a larger sticker of the letter ‘S’. You show them to security and make it inside where people had started screaming. You knew he was popular among women but this was more than you thought

“Lord Cherry!!” one screamed 

“Kao-”

“Cherry” he interrupted 

“What?”

Getting his bike to a stop he helps you off and says “we don’t use our real names here for security reasons. Here I’m Cherry blossom.” 

So what he was telling you was true. You honestly felt a bit silly for jumping to conclusions so quickly. Before he was off to what he called a ‘beef’ he introduced you to JOE. You were surprised to see the popular chef here as well, although you knew they had been friends for years. The large screen in the area showed you just how goof he was at this. 

He was fast but graceful, sharp an precise on corners. The crowd only cheered louder than before. 

“So, you’re the one he’s been talking about huh?“ Joe asked 

“He’s been...talking about me?“ you asked

He nodded “He was gone for like 3 days in a row not to mention he was brushing off more women now. That’s when he told us there was someone he wanted to be loyal to.” okay, now you felt really silly. After the race was done and over with Cherry had made his way back to you. He comes and embarrass you and whispers in your ear

“You brought me good luck.“ you felt your heart skip a beat from the feeling of being close to him

“oooo, look at Lord Cherry with his lady~“

“Shut up you big oaf!!“

<>

During the next few months you had gone with him to almost every beef. You had even gained a name for yourself, ‘Lady Cherry’. You had become quite popular among some men there and even cherry’s female fans. He would usually bring you as his ‘lucky charm’, it was cheesy but sweet at the same time. They also had a habit of saying 

“The Cherries have arrived“ 

On his free time he would actually taught you how to skate, well he tried anyway. Balance wasn’t exactly easy and being from a traditional family, this was unusual for you. You’d be holding on to his shoulders while his hands held your waist

“Don’t let me fall“

“You’re doing just fine dear. Why don’t we try some tricks“ he offered  

“Are you sure you’re the man I married?“ you ask with a smirk

“The one and only dear“ he kissed your cheek 

It was honestly so cute to him. You’d have a scared but excited look on your face. Your cheeks would turn pink and it just made his heart fluttered. On top of all that you were willing to indulge in something he has loved from a young age. He always took you with him to each beef he attended. Both for showing you off an he is in love with the idea of winning every race for not just himself but for you as well.  

Although tonight you wouldn’t make it to the beef. He was going to race Joe but that was put on hold. You had been feeling sick all day and you just finished emptying your stomach. As much as you told him to go, he refused to leave.

“You’re my wife and you’re clearly not okay“ he said helping you up off the floor “you come before any beef or competition. Now come on, let’s get you to the hospital and get you checked out.“

A short drive to the general hospital was taken that night. No, he would not wait until tomorrow morning. He wanted to know that you were okay and didn’t have anything terminal. After speaking with the nurse and giving some blood and urine samples you both patiently waited. You leaned against him playing with the digits of his fingers. 

*Knock knock* “Ma’am we have your results” the doctor says holding up a couple of papers and even some medicine. “well, you’re clear for any terminal conditions or diseases. although you have some hormonal imbalances and some new ones kicking in.”

“Meaning?“ Kaoru urged him on

“Congratulations, you’re 4 weeks pregnant.“

“....“ you both sat in shock at the news. You were pregnant? Well, you two were active, and maybe Kaoru has his own little rituals. Either after or before a beef he’d get frisky and was set on pleasing you both. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that this would have happened, still it was shocking news

“These are some prenatal vitamins you’ll need to take for the month. Make sure to make an appointment to check on the baby alright?” giving you the vile of pills he takes his leave leaving you both in silence. What were you supposed to say? How were you going to deal with this? Were you even ready?

“-together.“ you didn’t catch his whole sentence 

“I’m sorry what was that?” you ask him

“We’ll this together alright?“ he took your hand in his “believe me I’m as shocked as you are but, we’ll figure this out together okay?“

“Alright“ you smile back 

“We should probably start with a bigger house for the three of us“

<>

“Kaoru, come on it’s just paint I can-“

“You are not moving a muscle“ he cut you off “I want you to rest all you can. You’re making a baby and that’s enough.“

To say he was strict during your pregnancy was an understatement. As soon as your belly started showing you were no longer going to beefs with him. You were currently 6 months along, and expecting a girl! Kaoru was over the moon to know it was a girl. he would have been happy with a boy too, but a little copy of you was like a dream. He couldn't wait to see the little girl that would look like you and act like him.

Today was nursery day, which meant painting, building and organizing. Kaoru had you only fold and organizing the clothes and things while he painted. Of course being your idea you had called the boys over to help. Joe was building some stuff along with Shadow. Langa and Reki were actually helping to paint the walls. 

“I appreciate you guys coming to help“ you smile 

“Hey it’s no problem, at least you told us about it“ Joe commented. Oh yeah, he also wanted to keep it a secret so that 

‘the idiot wouldn’t ruin your pregnancy‘ which made you laugh for a good 5 minutes. But they were very good help and made the process easier 

“Hey so what are you naming the baby?“ Reki asked 

“Well, Kaoru kind of wanted to associate it with his skate name so we agreed on Sakura.“

“AAWWHH“ everyone said out load slightly teasing him. Without turning from the wall he said

“....I just wanted a beautiful name for her was all.“ although he was cold at times they knew he meant well especially for his family.  A while late Joe made a small dinner for you all to enjoy. You thanked them for coming over and you were done for the night. You were putting on some lotion over your rounded middle when Kaoru came behind you. He wrapped his arms around and over your own hands and rested there for a moment

“Who would have thought we’d be here huh?” You whisper

“In all honesty I was hoping for it” he admired “before we married you were described as a caring and sweet woman. But you were so much more once we were married. You’re compassionate, intelligent, stubborn, beautiful, and absolutely perfect” he said kissing the side of your head “and now, you’ve given me the gift of being a father. Thank you”

Turning in his hold you wipe away small tears “oh Kaoru , thank you too. You’ve treated me like I’m the only person you need. On top of that you take care of me but still give me my freedom. I love you..”

“And I love you” he rests his forehead against yours as his fingers trace over your baby bump.

*******************************************************

I hope this was okay!❤️

#kaoru sakurayashiki x reader #kaoru sakurayashiki #cherry blossom x reader #sk8 the infinity x reader #sk8 the infinity #sk8 cherry blossom #cherry blossom #sk8 the infinity fanfic #sk8 fanfic #sk8 x reader #sk8 kaoru #anime #anime x reader #arranged marriage au #sk8 the infinity fluff #anime fanfiction #fanfiction #sk8 the infinity pregnant

[morganaspendragonss]

hi. I am having a really shitty day and suddenly this very angsty promt pops up in my head. and I wanted share it with you. so grace is pregnant. suddenly she goes into the labor. but there's some kinda of dangerous situation and there is no one to help her. (maybe stranded somewhere or like hostage situation) but actually there IS someone to help her. and it's none other than our one and only unicorn paramedic tk🥺 but the conditions are bad, grace and the baby are in danger. BUT I think the most angsty part would be after or during labor something happens to grace or the baby (or at least tk thinks something happened) and tk have to tell this judd. and he is a mess. he keeps blaming himself. very emotional scene between tk and judd. BUT somehow everything turns out fine at the end??? cause I can't survive losing grace or jace baby🥺 and that's it ig. thank you 💕 have a good day!

by the grace of god

for @n-e--m-o my love!!! i hope you like this and i am so sorry it took so long for me to finish it!

thanks to @aliceschuyler for proofreading and for being a wonderful person 💚💚💚

ao3 | 2.8k | labour, complications during childbirth, s3 au (as in tk is already recovering from the ice by the time grace goes into labour)

“TK, this is really not necessary,” Grace sighs, letting him into the house. “I can handle myself for a few hours.”

TK shrugs and smiles, offering his hand to help Grace back to the couch. She takes it reluctantly, groaning and rubbing her bump as she eases herself down. “Judd asked me to be here,” he explains, though he knows Grace already knows this. “He’s worried about you being alone with this storm not letting up, and I don’t mind. Besides, I think Carlos was glad to see the back of me.”

“Oh, please,” she scoffs. “That boy gives my husband a run for his money with how smitten he is.”

“That’s because he’s always on his best behaviour when you guys are around. You should see him after I’ve been stuck at home on sick leave.”

“They do say that doctors make the worst patients,” Grace agrees. “I imagine that extends to paramedics too, huh?”

“Guilty.” TK chuckles, then points a joking finger at Grace. “Don’t tell Carlos I admitted to that.”

“No promises.”

TK knows, of course, that his words will make their way back to Carlos. Somewhere along the line, he and Grace became fast friends, and now TK and Judd have found some unlikely common ground in having their significant others join forces to tease them. It feels weirdly domestic, and leaves a warm sensation in TK’s chest, like he’s finally starting to settle.

There’s also the added bonus of being able to sample Grace’s cooking, which is very nearly on a par with Carlos’s. Judd likes to say that TK has it all backwards, but he’s biased.

(Any accusations of bias on TK’s part are wholly unfounded.)

All that to say, TK is very grateful that his sick leave has led to Judd calling him in to watch over Grace while the snowstorm continues, which basically entails eating homemade food and relaxing in the Ryders’ very warm home.

It’s almost worth falling through ice for.

TK sits on the couch opposite to Grace and runs a critical eye over her. She seems to be shifting around a little more than usual and her hand hasn’t stopped moving on her bump—both fairly normal for a heavily pregnant woman, but there’s something in the lines of Grace’s face that are putting him a little on edge.

“Are you okay?”

Grace’s eyebrows knit together and she smiles in bemusement. “Me? I’m fine. Though I think this little one is getting a bit restless.”

“Are you sure? Because—”

“TK.” Grace shakes her head and huffs a small laugh. “Whatever Judd told you, he’s exaggerating. Everything’s fine, and you know I’d say something if it wasn’t.”

“Right, yeah, of course.” TK sinks back in his chair, face flushing a little in embarrassment, and he bites his lip, casting around for something to talk about. “Have you found out the gender yet?”

“No, we wanted to keep it a surprise.” Another small laugh, and Grace glances down fondly at her bump. “Though Judd is convinced that it’s a little girl; he even wanted to do the nursery up in pinks and purples, he’s that sure. Took a while to talk him down from that, let me tell you.”

TK snorts. “I bet. It looks beautiful though. The nursery, I mean.”

Judd had spent every available moment one shift showing everyone in the firehouse pictures of the nursery and bragging at Grace’s artistic skills.

“All by herself! Every single one of them birds and clouds, that’s my Gracie.”

“Well, thank you,” Grace says. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom, and then I think I’m gonna lie down a little bit. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen, and you’re very welcome to the TV or Judd’s video games. Hell, take a nap yourself if you want; don’t think I don’t see those yawns you keep hiding.”

TK flushes, midway through swallowing down yet another yawn. It’s been a few days since his accident on the lake and, though the doctors had discharged him from the hospital, his body is still healing from the scare.

Grace smirks knowingly at him, waving off the hand he offers to help her to her feet. “Get some rest, TK. Maybe if we both do that, we can get our men off our backs for a little while, huh?”

And TK can’t deny how appealing that sounds. Much as he loves Carlos, and despite whatever jokes he may have made about Carlos getting sick of him, the accident had left them all rattled, and now TK is subject to almost 24/7 mother-henning. It’s sweet, and he really doesn’t mind it all that much, but a reprieve is welcome even so.

Grace shuffles out the room, one hand braced on her back, and TK listens out for her until the bedroom door clicks shut and the house falls silent. He sighs tiredly and shifts until he’s lying down on the sofa, grabbing the remote and switching on the TV. No matter what Grace says, and no matter how exhausted he may feel, he has no intentions of falling asleep, not while he’s supposed to be on alert.

He promised Judd he’d take care of Grace, so that’s what he’s going to do.

But, as it often is with the best of intentions, it doesn’t quite go to plan, and, without even realising, TK finds himself slipping into sleep.

*

“TK.”

“TK.”

It takes TK a few moments to adjust when he’s shaken roughly awake, blinking several times before Grace’s face finally swims into view above him.

“Gr’ce?” he mumbles. “Wha’s goin’ on?”

“TK, we—” Grace cuts off with a cry of pain that has TK alert immediately, her eyes scrunching shut as she doubles over. When she speaks again, she sounds out of breath, and the lines of agony haven’t faded from her eyes. “We gotta go.”

It’s on the tip of TK’s tongue to ask where, but it’s a question that doesn’t need asking; Grace’s panting breaths and the way she has an arm wrapped protectively around her middle is all the answer TK needs. He scrambles off the couch and reaches out to steady her, leading her gently towards the door.

“Alright, it’s okay, you’re okay,” he babbles uselessly, only to stop short when they get the door open. Snow is piled feet deep as far as they can see, and the road is entirely indistinguishable from driveways and the sidewalk.

No way they’re getting anywhere in this.

“Okay, okay, new plan.” TK shakes his head, trying to get rid of the panic that’s slowly building in him. He can handle this; he’s a paramedic, and this is hardly the first birth he’s attended.

It is the first time he’s attending a friend’s labour, but he can’t let that matter. The only thing that matters now is Grace.

He pulls some pillows from the couch and eases Grace down to the floor, positioning the pillows around her. “Hang tight, alright?” he tells her. “I’m just gonna go grab some things and we’ll call 9-1-1, they’ll get you to the hospital in no time.”

Before TK can stand, Grace seizes his arm, taking several deep breaths before she’s able to speak. “There’s a kit,” she says. “Bedroom, top of the closet. When the storm hit…packed it just in case.”

TK nods and squeezes Grace’s hand before jumping up and heading to the bedroom. The kit is exactly where Grace said, and he grabs it along with a few sheets, taking them all back into the front room.

“How long have you been feeling like this?” TK asks as he makes sure Grace is comfortable.

“A few hours?” she says, not sounding entirely sure. “I thought it was nothing but then my—my water broke and—” she groans, chin going down to her chest and a quiet sob escaping her.

TK feels useless as he squats down in front of her, rubbing gently at her arm. With his free hand, he slides his phone from his pocket and dials 9-1-1—thank god the phone lines are still working—but as an automated voice tells him to please hold, a whole new level of despair fills the room as Grace’s eyes meet his.

They’re on their own.

*

It’s half an hour before they’re able to connect to an operator, and it’s becoming abundantly clear that there’s no way Grace is making it to the hospital before the baby comes. And, according to the operator, crews are stretched too thin and the snow is too bad to guarantee when an ambulance will be able to arrive.

To top things off, Judd isn’t answering his phone either, and the texts TK has sent him have been left on Delivered.

“TK, I…” Grace shakes her head and moans through another contraction. “I gotta push. They’re coming, I—I gotta—”

She screams, and this time the strain in her face is clear to see.

TK doesn’t allow himself a moment of panic as he snaps on a pair of latex gloves, only briefly hesitating as he looks up at Grace. “I’m going to take a look, okay?” he warns, receiving a silent nod in response. He takes a deep breath and checks on Grace’s progress, eyes widening when he spots the baby’s head.

“Grace, I can see the head,” he says. “You’re nearly there, alright? Next contraction, push for five, that’s it, keep going, you’re doing really well.”

TK doesn’t know how long they go like that before the head is out and he’s telling Grace to stop as he cleans the baby’s mouth and nose. “Airways are clear,” he reports. “Just a little more and they’ll be here.”

It’s almost easy after that—for TK, anyway—and soon enough the baby is wailing in his arms as he wraps it in a blanket and hands it to Grace.

“Judd was right,” he says softly, smiling down at them. “It’s a girl.”

Grace sobs as she holds her daughter close to her chest, pressing kisses to the top of her tiny head. TK says nothing, busying himself with cutting the cord and checking for any complications, but he can’t help but feel a sense of overwhelming pride as he takes in the scene. His hands are trembling, he registers, and he can feel the imminent adrenaline crash, but he does his best to push it away; he still has a job to do.

The placenta is delivered ten minutes later, and with it come the wail of sirens outside as the paramedics finally arrive. TK dares to breathe out in relief—and that, as it turns out, is his mistake.

Grace gasps and catches on his sleeve, sending TK’s heart plummeting as he notes her scared expression.

“TK, I—” She gags, and TK has to nearly snatch the baby as Grace tilts to the side and throws up, her body heaving as she sobs and continues to spit up bile. The baby starts to whimper again, and just as he goes to comfort her, TK spots something far worse.

Blood.

Lots of blood.

“Oh, god.”

It’s then that paramedics swarm in through the doors, two of them rushing to Grace while the third takes the baby from TK. He lets go of her easily, watching on in shock as Grace is placed on a gurney and wheeled out of the house. One of the paramedics asks him something that TK can’t hear through the rushing in his ears, and just nods dumbly, barely even registering the change of scenery as he’s led into the ambulance and the doors slam shut behind him.

*

He’s been in the waiting room for hours now. None of the doctors will tell him anything given he’s not related to Grace, and whatever call Judd was on must have run long because the many messages TK’s sent him are still unread.

TK can tell from the glares he’s getting that his constant leg bouncing is starting to annoy people, but the only alternative would be pacing, and that would make him even fewer friends.

He’s not sure how much longer he can stand this.

The doors slamming open make TK almost jump out of his seat, and when he looks over, all his anxiety starts to bubble over as he sees Judd making a beeline for him. He stands on shaking legs, barely able to look his friend in the eye.

“What happened?” Judd demands. “Where is she? Are they okay?”

“I…” TK swallows past the lump in his throat and blinks back his tears. “I don’t know. They—They won’t tell me anything, but back at your place, Grace…she started, um, she started bleeding, and I don’t…I don’t know what’s happening. Judd, I’m so sorry, I—”

“What the hell do you mean, you’re sorry?”

TK recoils at Judd’s harsh tone, but he knows he more than deserves it. “I should have done more, I should have made sure she was okay, I—”

“Yeah, damn right you shoulda. Soon as you noticed something wasn’t right, you shoulda come straight here. But you didn’t, and now my wife and my baby are in danger just because you couldn’t do one simple thing. Sorry ain’t cutting it this time.”

“Judd, I…” The words die in TK’s throat and he looks down in shame, knowing that everything Judd said was true. He can feel Judd’s glare still bearing down on him, but he’s saved from further reproach by the arrival of a nurse.

“Mr Ryder?” she asks. “Right this way.”

Sparing one last disdainful look, Judd follows after the nurse, leaving TK alone in the waiting room again. He considers just leaving, but his body has other ideas; his legs give out and he collapses back down into the plastic chair, not bothering to hold back the tears any longer.

The waiting room quickly fills up with the rest of the team, all of them offering words of comfort that TK doesn’t want. Carlos sits down next to him and TK leans into his side, staring into space as time continues to stretch out with no sight of Judd or word on either Grace or the baby.

He’s so spaced out that he doesn’t even notice when Judd does arrive at first, needing a few nudges from Carlos before he’s fully back with the programme. He still can’t meet Judd’s eyes, so he just stares down at his shoes as Judd delivers the news that both Grace and their daughter are okay.

TK closes his eyes and sags a little in relief at that; he doesn’t want to think about what would have happened if the opposite had been true.

He’s expecting Judd to pass over him entirely, so it’s a surprise when his large shadow falls over TK and he looks up into apologetic eyes.

“I’m, uh, I’m sorry for what I said,” Judd says thickly. “I was stuck in my head, but I know that’s no excuse, not really. I was out of order. But, hm, if you want, Gracie and I would love it if you came up to meet our little girl, properly this time.”

TK’s eyes widen and he stares at Judd in shock. “But… What?”

“You heard me,” Judd says, rolling his eyes fondly. “You too, Carlos. We wanna talk to you both.”

It feels like a dream as he and Carlos walk hand-in-hand behind Judd up to Grace’s room. She’s sitting up in the hospital bed when they walk in, looking tired and a little pale, but otherwise okay, and in her arms is a tiny pink bundle, sleeping softly.

“Hey guys,” Grace whispers, smiling. “I’m really glad you came. Here, meet our daughter.”

Grace holds the baby out, nodding, and TK hesitates a moment before stepping forward and taking her. He moves back next to Carlos so he can see too, then looks back over at Judd and Grace.

“She’s beautiful,” he says softly. “And she’s okay?”

“She’s perfect,” Judd says. “And we know you’re partly to thank for that.”

TK starts to protest, but Grace cuts him off gently. “TK, if you hadn’t been there, I don’t know what I would have done. So, thank you. What happened after was out of your control; the most important thing is that you helped our daughter into the world and she’s okay.”

“And,” Judd continues, “we got to talking, and we’d love it if you both agreed to be her godparents.”

TK turns to Carlos, finding his own shock mirrored back at him. “What? I—I mean, yes, of course, but— Really?”

Grace laughs. “Really. We couldn’t think of anyone better.”

“I… Wow.” Carlos chuckles and runs a finger gently down the baby’s cheek before looking back up at Judd and Grace as TK hands the baby back. “Does she have a name?”

TK almost misses the secret glance Judd and Grace exchange, but he doesn’t have time to think on it before they answer.

“She’s called Charlotte,” Grace says, her eyes settling firmly on TK. “Charlotte Kennedy.”

And TK is grateful that Charlotte is securely back in her mother’s arms, because this time, there’s no way of controlling his tears.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tk strand #grace ryder #judd ryder #grace x judd #lone star #911ls #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #userbones #userkimmy #userjillian #tuserpaige #tuserjenny #reyeslonestartag #actuallysara #kirassunshine

[f1united]

Secret - DR3 Imagine

Part 4 to Zoo!

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3

Daniel Ricciardo Imagine

Summary: You share your pregnancy with his family

This contains mentions of pregnancy so please do not read if this is something you may find triggering!

Ever since you and Daniel had taken the digital test, he hadn’t left your side. The confirmation that you were growing a mini Ricciardo inside of you made him smile more than he ever had before, something that you thought was borderline impossible. He had booked a trip for the two of you to spend some time together before he was thrown back into the busy f1 season. It was as though you had just met for the first time, staying up late talking and not being able to keeps your hands off each other wherever you went. When you’d flown back to Australia nothing changed and you felt yourself falling in love with him all over again.

Daniel laid beside you in bed, one arm around your shoulders and the other holding up the precious scan photo of your little baby that had been taken yesterday. Ever since you’d been given it neither one of you could seem to stop looking at it in complete awe. Truth be told there wasn’t too much to see, you weren’t too far along but that didn’t seem to matter.

“Have you thought about how to tell your family today?” you asked, diverting you eyes from the picture to his. Today was the last day Daniel would see his family before you both headed back to Europe to finish preparing for the first race in just two weeks’ time. The annual barbeque had become a tradition and was always a lovely way to say goodbye.

You hadn’t told anyone about your pregnancy yet. You were somewhat scared that if people knew your little secret it would burst this bubble that the two of you had found yourself in. However, you knew that he probably wanted to tell his parents in person, and it was uncertain the next time that would be.

“Not really I just think I’ll know when the times right, they’re going to be so excited” you knew he was right. They would be so excited, and you didn’t have to even doubt for a second that they wouldn’t support the both of you.

“We should probably get up, they’ll be here soon” you didn’t want to move, you could’ve laid like this forever, but you did need to get ready and start the food prep. You slowly lifted yourself up, placing a kiss on Daniel’s forehead as he unwrapped himself from you. It wasn’t until you were on your feet that you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and let out a small gasp.

“Daniel look” his eyes snapped towards you and watched intently as you carefully touched the small bump. You hadn’t started showing much and you were sure that this was just being you hadn’t been to the toilet yet this morning but none the less it all started to feel a bit more real.

“Oh my god” Daniel climbed out of bed and stood behind you, placing his arms and hands over yours to hold the little baby too.

“I suppose I should go and pick out a floaty dress for the day” you smiled. It didn’t take long for everyone to arrive. You had let them all in while Daniel stayed in the garden with his barbeque and his beer. They never came empty handed and you gave them a hand carrying the food through to the dining table outside. His nephew was the first one to greet Daniel, shortly followed by everyone else.

“What does everyone want to drink?” you asked as everyone began to sit down. You figured this way you could pour yourself a soft drink without anyone noticing you weren’t on the alcohol too.

“Another one of these please” Daniel waved his beer can towards you and you nodded in acknowledgement.

“I’ll have a glass of white wine if you’ve got one please” His mum asked, shortly followed with an agreement of his sister while her husband followed suit.

You turned your attention towards his dad.

“I’ll come in and give you a hand” he replied to which you gratefully accepted.

“Isaac what about you?”

“What have you got” he asked as he ran around the garden.

“Oooooo where do I start, fizzy drinks, fruit shoots”

“Why don’t you go with Auntie Y/N and have a look” His mum suggested to which he nodded his head and ran towards the kitchen while you and Joe followed behind.

You opened the fridge stacked with drinks as Isaac held his hands up for up to lift him up. You placed him on your hip as you went through the different options with him until he decided on some lemonade.

“Now can I trust you to give Uncle Daniel his beer without drinking it before you get there?” you asked. “And then I’ll bring out your drink with mine?” The little boy nodded furiously as you handed him the can and put him down on the floor before watching him run off. You grabbed the lemonade and wine from the fridge and placed it next to the glasses Joe had just got out the cupboard. You felt your chest get warm at the site of Isaac passing Daniel the beer and giving him a hug in response.

“How have you been” Joe asked, snapping you out of your little daydream.

“Good actually” you replied, “Really good”.

“I can tell” he laughed slightly at how smiley you were. “I take it you won’t be having one of these” he nodded towards the wine he has cracked open and started distributing between the glasses. Your evident shock made him laugh once more. “Don’t worry, I got you a wine glass for your lemonade, no one needs to know” he gave you a small wink.

“Is it really that obvious?” You asked him as you finished pouring yours and Isaacs drinks.

“Not at all you just have this unmistakable pregnancy glow, Grace had the same thing when she was pregnant with Daniel. I don’t think anyone else has picked up on it” you breathed a sigh of relief at his honesty.

“We were planning on telling you all today” you admitted

“I knew as soon as he sent us those pictures of you away on holiday, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy. Grace insisted you’d secretly got engaged or eloped” you couldn’t help but laugh at his comment. You were so grateful for the relationship you had with Joe, and so was Daniel.

“I hadn’t even thought about that if I’m honest. We had the first scan yesterday” You pulled open the drawer to the left of you and placed it on the side. You knew you would have needed it close by to show the others at some point this afternoon, you just didn’t realise it would be so soon. His eyes filled up with tears slightly as he brought you in for a hug.

“Oh Y/N, I’m so happy for the both of you”

“I can’t wait to see him become a dad” you admitted as you buried your head in his shoulder in an attempt to reduce the tears.

“What am I missing out on here?” Daniel voice shocked the both of you as you let go of Joe and looked at the Australian walking through the kitchen towards you.

“We were just talking about how great of a dad you’re going to be” Joe smiled at his son as Daniel looked between the two of you slightly confused. “Oh come on she didn’t tell me I can just tell, I don’t know how your mother can’t. It just takes one look at the two of you to know there’s something going on. Plus, the last few times we’ve seen you, you haven’t been able to keep your hands off her belly. Usually they’re on her arse”. You let out a laugh at his comment as he gave Daniel a hug.

“Now lets go and eat, Dan can you carry some of these out?” Joe asked as you watched Dan slide the scan photo into his back pocket.

It wasn’t long before you all tucked into the food and spent the afternoon chatting about old memories and making new ones. A badminton tournament had broken out at one point, then Isaac had decided he wanted to go swimming so hopped into he pool with Daniel for a while.

It wasn’t until the sun started to set that you remembered you had dessert in the fridge.

“Ill come and grab them with you” Daniel stated as he got up from the table and held your hand as you both walked into the kitchen. The second you were out of sight from the others he pulled you in for a kiss. You giggled slightly at the taste of beer on his lips.

“What was the for Ricciardo?” you asked him as he hugged you tightly.

“What I’m not allowed to kiss my girlfriend anymore? The mother of my child?”

“Keep your voice down” you reminded him as he trailed a few kisses down your neck and collar bone. “Seriously what had gotten into you?” You giggled as he looked up to meet your eye, you could see the tipsiness dancing around them. “Your mum brought over some champagne for a toast to you leaving, I was thinking we could open it with dessert and tell them then?” Daniel nodded in front of you, almost immediately appearing to have sobered up as he planted his hands on your belly.

“I love you so much” he told you as he rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you more” you told him as you shared a kiss once more.

Joe began to fill up the champagne glasses once you’d both returned to the table as you began to cut everyone a slice of the cake you’d brought and it wasn’t long until Grace stood up with her glass in hand.

“I just wanted to raise a toast, to appreciating the time we’ve had with Daniel and to wish him all the best in the new season” Before everyone could cheers, Daniel stood up to and you felt your body become nervous with excitement as he held onto your hand tightly.

“Before we leave we just wanted to say how much we’re going to miss you so we have a picture that we want you to keep while we’re away” Daniel dug into his pocket and handed the image to Isaac first who was sat next to you.

“What is it?” he asked. You point at the small shape in the middle of the image.

“That right there is a picture of Baby Ricciardo” you moved your hands to your stomach and rubbed it slightly. “Who right now is sat in here” Gasps were heard all around the table as Isaac passed the picture to his mum.

“So it’s your baby?” He asked

“Mine and Daniel’s yes, it’s your little cousin” you told him.

“Oh my!” you looked over to Grace who was making her way towards you both with her arms wide open as you got up from your chair to embrace her.

“I’m going to be a nanny again” she cried as the rest of the table got up to congratulate you. “Joe get up your sons going to be a dad”

“Oh I know, she’s been on the lemonade all day” He chuckled. After the evening had come to an end and everyone had said their goodbyes you climbed into bed with Daniel and you both just smiled at one another as you realised that nothing was going to stop the love you both shared and that your baby might just be the most loved person in the entire world.

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