#some say they're still out there...trying to get one more inch over on each other...

[egophiliac]

SO I DIDN'T KNOW WHO ELSE TO ASK, but you seem like an expert on lore so I just had to know, is the headcanon of "long haired, super tall, past Lilia" actually accurate?? I know he was definitely a war general back then, but I can't seem to remember if he was actually as tall as Malleus with super long hair before as well. Would you perhaps know if this is a fanon or canon concept?

I am nowhere near an expert on lore, so if I'm wrong, then hopefully someone will be able to tell us both! I'm pretty sure though that both of those are 100% fanon -- I think drawing him with long hair is mostly a quick visual shorthand for Ye Olde Past Lilia vs modern cut-his-hair-in-the-dark Lilia (and/or the artist just felt like it and honestly more power to them). that, and it's occasionally implied that he was a lot more serious back in the day, so it makes sense that he'd have a less...artistically creative hairstyle. fingers crossed we get some answers in episode 7, even if just in silhouette 👀

this is the first time I've heard of a tall Lilia theory though! he does talk about using being short to his advantage during fighting, so I think that one is pretty unlikely. ...plus I really love the idea that he was so absolutely terrifying as a soldier that people were shitting themselves at the sight of this skinny little 5'2" goblin with the build of an uncooked spaghetti noodle. he doesn't need a height advantage to do terrible things to your internal organs! ✨👍✨

(and anyway, if he did want to be taller than Malleus, he's not above cheating)

#art #for a given definition of art #twisted wonderland #to be fair malleus can also fly so at some point it's just going to turn into a tall-off #they launch themselves into space and are never seen again #some say they're still out there...trying to get one more inch over on each other... #is it obvious i didn't get enough sleep today or

[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

[evilminji]

...Wait. ACTUALLY???

The Portal is basically a doorway right? Big ol solid and sustained gateway from Realm A to Universe B? Unlike the brief blips of natural portals?

As IN... a Ring could therefore, theoretically, send out it's Search For Willpower. EXE vibes? Hit the portal -> go THROUGH the portal -> and continue expanding as the search continued until it hit a Confirmed Match(tm)?

You know... somebody INCREDIBLY SUPER LIKELY to match? Like... say... a Dead Green Lantern who? Had the WILL to continue on as a Ghost? Probably would get priority over any untested "new" Lantern candidates? Since they are somehow both in the system and not?

Recognized, yet a different species somehow?

The Rings records mark them deceased. Yet here they are, without a Ring. Which they OBVIOUSLY need, as Lanterns. Because once a Lantern, always a Lantern. Nyooom~ off it goes.

Off? Probably a whole SHIT TON of them go. Like? A truely, TRUELY alarming amount.

Think hundreds of thousands, suddenly wrenching themselves free of their stands and SHOOTING into the sky. Yes, a few at a time is normal. Day in, day out. Hundreds a day.

Not upwards of millions.

Not all at once.

A SEA of green orbs shooting up into the night sky like shooting stars. So many it chokes the sky. Drives everything to a stand still. All of them going the same direction. Some... EVENT... has just happened and no one knows what it is.

You have no choice but to follow them. Figure out where they are going and what's DRAWING them. You fly for weeks. Take shifts, following them. Alarm countless innocent people and more then a few governments.

It's....? Earth? Fuck. Of COURSE it had to be that God forsaken rock. EVERYTHING seems to come from there! Do you have ANY IDEA how many Lanterns they have stationed there by now? Multiple times the amount ENTIRE QUADRENTS usually take.

Why is it ALWAYS that planet?? Someone call Hal and his merry band of migraines. They're coming in hot. And NO, we CANT stop them. Don't bother asking. We ALSO have no idea where they're headed.

Think about being in Amity. Quiet day for once. You don't trust it. Something gonna happen, you can FEEL it.

A ring shoots past you. Then another. And another. Then dozens. Hundreds. THOUSANDS. Green, glowing, and like they were shot from a gun. The sky hailing ghost jewelry because God hate Amity specifically, apparently, and FUCK your premiums. You dive for your car.

Watch, baffled, at the Fenton house is SWARMED. The local crack pots are trying to shoot at RINGS. Failing to hit a single one. The swarm organized, writhing, and gracefully ALIVE somehow.

Aliens shoot past your car. They're wearing LANTERN get ups. Fighting the local crackpots. The sky is FULL of Lanterns now. Oh god, first Ghosts, now Aliens. Your mother was right. You SHOULD have stayed in Ohio with her sister.

The Rings break the Fenton's door down. The clattering is CACOPHONOUS as they push and shove to race inside. You watch the doorway. Some instinct telling you not to look away. Even as Lanterns and crazy people are shooting at each other not yards away.

Watch. The. Door.

Ghosts come back out. ALIEN Ghosts. Wearing LANTERN rings. Your jaw drops as they just... just KEEP coming. Every last one of them wearing a ring. You struggle to remember how many there WERE. As the sky turns GREEN. As Amity truely DOES become the most haunted place... anywhere.

You're pretty sure in the oceans of GREEN you spot the Justice League. You DEFINITELY spot Phantom. Thank god. No Spooks ever get away with shady nonsense on HIS watch, so whatever happening? 'S gonna get sorted.

And JUST? As you think... maybe, JUST maybe... you could just? Inch your car into drive, and sloooowly get the fuck out of whatever THIS mess it? Those white suited crazy people from the Feds show up and start trying to ARREST the SPACE COPS. For not letting them take unprovoked attacks on OTHER Space Cops!

Oh Shit(tm).

@hdgnj @ailithnight @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #green lantern #what is a ghost but a being MADE of Will #they didnt RETIRE they DIED #they want their god damned jobs back #didnt you die? #yeah i got better

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 51

part 1 | part 50 | ao3

Knowing the weirdness is coming doesn't make it less weird.

Steve clings to Jeff's warning like a lifeline in the days after the attack, as Eddie swings wildly from withdrawn and paranoid to brash and itching for a fight. One second he's tackling Steve in a public park, sweeping him off his feet and swinging in a wide, reckless circle, the next he's shooting dodgy glances over his shoulder and suggesting they come up with some kind of tapping code when they want to communicate the urge to kiss or hug in public.

His face is a mess for weeks.

He doesn’t want to talk about it.

Hardly wants to look at it — takes to avoiding mirrors and fucking Steve from behind, or turning off all the lights, or hiding his face behind his hair when he gets between Steve’s legs. Plays it off like he’s just being sexy, trying something new, ‘isn’t this exciting?’ But Steve’s pretty sure he just doesn’t want to see the worry in Steve’s eyes when their kisses hurt his face.

So Valentine's Day comes and goes, and Steve doesn't say it; doesn't say 'I love you,' because he's never sure he's going to get the version of Eddie who’s brave enough to say it back. They don't even do anything for the holiday, really, which kind of kills Steve, even if he won't admit it.

He can't help it; he's a sap.

They do share a heart-shaped box of chocolates in Eddie’s bed the day after, though. Led Zeppelin crooning softly from the record player, and Steve plays it off like he only bought them because they were half off, and Eddie gives him a gooey look and pushes him into the pillows. Blows him within an inch of his young life; smiles up at him at the end, lips slick and full and pretty. Steve thinks, maybe they're okay.

They’ll be okay.

Eddie may still be a little off, a little wobbly, but he’s laughing again, he’s silly and animated again, he’s playing guitar and making jokes, and—

And who is Steve to judge how a person, like, processes or whatever? At least Eddie’s not doing any late night demolition.

They’re gonna be just fine.

The last of the sickly yellow bruising slips away from Eddie's eye as the month comes to a close, so Steve decides to risk it. Asks Eddie out. A movie night, a proper date where Steve can pay for the milkshakes and let their thighs brush against each other when the theater lights go down.

And sure, they'll have to pretend it’s just two straight guys hanging out — do their tapping thing and keep a healthy distance, two bros being pals being buds being dudes — and that shit sucks, but it’s better than nothing.

Steve's never had to worry about PDA before. One more thing he won't admit is kind of slowly killing him; rope burn around his heart when he thinks about it too hard.

"What do you say?" he asks Eddie. They’re lounging on his couch, propped on opposite ends with their legs tangled in the middle. "You want to let me take you out to the city?"

Brookhaven isn't exactly the city so much as the closest suburb whose mall didn't get torpedoed by the commies, but there's a theater and some decent diners, and it's far enough away that they shouldn't run into any classmates looking to cause trouble.

Eddie gives him a wary look. “I don’t know,” he hedges, fingers coming up to worry the thin sliver of a scar under his chin.

Steve swallows the hurt. The twine chafing behind his ribs. "It's okay," he starts to say, but Eddie's eyes flare with defiance.

“Actually, fuck it,” he declares, slapping his knees as he stands up. Gets up onto the couch cushion, spreads his feet wide and puts his hands on his hips; Steve’s little metalhead superhero. Steve can't help his grin when Eddie shakes his hair out big and says, "Take me out and woo me, baby!"

—

part 52

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my fic

[ghouljams]

I’ve had this wonderful, terrible little brain worm about Cowboy!Price who is just awful about chasing Duck around the farmhouse whenever she’s home. Large, calloused hands catching her hip whenever she walks past. A swat on the ass at any small opportunity. Just… Price loving his wife.

I think you mean wonderful worm, because it's absolutely correct. They're both terrible with each other, absolutely cannot keep their hands to themselves. Couple of horny teenagers stuck in the honeymoon phase.

You're humming along to the radio, finishing up some dishes, when Price's hands grab your hips. His calloused palms drag over your shirt, pulling you back against him. He slots his hips against yours, moving with you to the music. You tilt your head so he can kiss your neck, enjoying the way he curls around you, the way his hands move to cup the softness of your stomach, dip to squeeze your thighs before dragging their way around to squeeze your ass. You swat at his arm with a laugh, and turn to meet his smile.

"A man can't appreciate his wife?" He asks, his eyes sparkling with mischief. You shake your head, and raise a wet hand to scratch his beard in retaliation. He tugs you in for a kiss, and the smacking noise he makes when he pulls away makes you swat him again.

"We have a full house," You remind him. Price hums, pulling away, but not without giving you a swift swat to your ass.

"you think I can't be discreet?"

"I didn't say that," You turn back to your work, "but you've never been before." Which isn't necessarily true, he was plenty discreet the one time your jobs overlapped. At home though, well, your kid has gagged over your husband kissing you more times than you can count.

"We'll see," Price mumbles, in that lovely tone that tells you you're in for a treat.

-

It starts with Price whistling at you. The sound piercing through the house, loud enough to startle you awake before he's grabbing you and pulling you close. You'd barely gotten downstairs, still in one of his shirts and a pair of shorts, and now you were crowded against the couch with your husband murmuring in your ear. His jeans rub against your thighs, and his beard scratches your tired skin, lighting up every point of contact before his hands slide up under your shirt.

You yelp and he clamps a hand over your mouth, mumbles something about being discreet as he tugs on your nipple with calloused fingers. You press back into him and try to stifle your moans with little luck.

You're only too glad none of your guests make their way out of their rooms to investigate the noise. Especially with the way you end up on your knees, lashes fluttering as John pushes his fat cock down your throat and holds it there. You count the seconds without air, letting the static fuzz of background radiation crowd your ears, blood rushing to your brain to convince you against choking. He lets you go when your vision starts tunneling, and gives you a short breath before repeating the process.

"Tha's it love," He coos down at you, "every inch."

He licks the drool off your chin after he finishes down your throat, and goes out to tend to the farm.

-

Then it's the spanking. Every time you move past him it's another swat to your behind. Sometimes hard, sometimes soft, always appreciative when they leave you. It's constant. He passes you in the kitchen, spank. You get up to grab something, spank. You're walking through the grocery store, spank. Picking you up from work, grabbing you in the barn, in the morning, before bed, coming out of the shower, the pantry, the kitchen, the shed, anywhere and everywhere, spank, spank, spank.

Even- No, especially, when there are people around. Like he's making a show of it. You shoot him a look and he just raises his brows, spanks you again.

He bends you over the counter while you're getting out vegetables for dinner and spanks you until you're whining, the feeling muffled by your clothes and just at the edge of painful. The worst sort of teasing.

"Never been discreet my arse," He grumbles, smoothing his hand over the swell of your ass, "should pull these down right here, but we got a full house apparently."

-

"I dunno," Goose tells Gaz in the barn, "Daddy's playin' some game, best to just leave it alone."

"Makin' it hard to walk around the house," Soap chimes in, scratching a barn cat, "Worse than walkin' in on my mum an' da." Gaz shivers.

"You don't have'ta deal with it, you're shacked up with Ghost," Gaz retorts.

"Don't have'ta-" Goose gasps in affront, "I grew up with them thank you! But no, I'm not comin' back 'til 'e's done."

"When's that gonna be?" Gaz grimaces. Goose shrugs.

"Whenever he's done I guess."

-

You wonder if you're losing it, or if he is, it takes until Price is pushing your face against the come starting to cool on the couch that you realize what's going on. The soft "clean it up baby, wouldn't want anyone thinkin' I'm not discreet," is what really makes it click into place. (you do lick up the mess, but in for a penny...)

When he finally lets you up you catch him by the belt loop and pull him back in before he can scurry off to do whatever he was putting off by fucking you.

"I was wrong," You admit. That catches his attention, makes him tip your head back with a firm finger under your chin.

"About what sweetheart?"

"You've always been careful when we have company," you sigh.

"Oh," The patronizing tone in Price's voice makes you shiver, "if you knew everythin' I wanna do to you all the time, you wouldn't 'ave doubted that."

"So you'll stop?"

"I didn't say that," He lets you go, and plucks his hat off the coffee table, "think you could still use a few lessons in how good my manners are. Don't you?"

#cod x reader #x reader #cod x oc #x oc #captain john price #captain price mw2 #john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #captain johnathan price #cod price #price mw2 #cowboy!price #oc: duck

[weebsinstash]

more valentino PLEASE 🙏

How does the saying go, "i want this man in ways that are concerning to feminism"?

I was thinking of how Angel used to live in V Tower and, how fucked up would it be for him to receive a good morning text from Val to head up to his room, and AD is thinking it's a booty call, but it's ACTUALLY Valentino being a manipulative piece of shit

Angel comes into the room and Valentino is already half or fully naked but like, he's not hard or anything and Angel is confused? The moth is just, chilling naked smoking with this satisfied look on his face? And Valentino just, gives him some menial command to run him a favor, and he pauses mid-sentence to turn and call out YOUR name before regarding his Fizz Bot, "Kitty, why don't you make my baby a drink?" and you're just like, slinking out from under the covers, ashamed that Angel now knows you slept with the Overlord, let alone someone you know uh, treats him pretty fucking poorly (although I imagine not like, the entire entire brutal extent of it, also, Angel Dust using Reader as a shield against Val because they're both calmer when you're around)

Could you imagine some scenario, platonic romantic it doesn't matter, where like. Angel is talking to Valentino and he sees you in the corner of his eye and he just stops mid sentence, does a double take, looks at you half naked in his boss' bed, and Val forces him to focus and carry on the conversation while he's crying. Angel is just all but sprinting out of the room by the time he's dismissed and Valentino may even play fucking mind games to make him like, MARINATE in how horrible this makes him feel. Valentino is dragging out the conversation and putting on his nail caps or doing his skincare routine at his vanity and making Angel sit there and wait as he's deliberate dragging on his sentences and constantly pausing but if Angel moves to leave Val snaps IMMEDIATELY. So Angel is just. Forced to stand there.

VALENTINO TALKING TO Y O U, MAKING YOU ACKNOWLEDGE ANGEL AND THE REVERSE. Valentino being manipulative and awful and shitty and doing shit like "so Angel baby, I was gonna take a trip to the spa tomorrow, mhm, and also hey you're coming too *looks at you* so Angel what do you think we should get my other amorcito over here done?" the evil bastard is making you two talk to each other, about each other, when you're both like, IN TEARS

Angel, trying to hold on to the last shreds of his sanity: s so... h have you... ever had a facial before

Valentino pausing from doing his mascara with the biggest shit eating grin on his face: oh yeah, someone just had a really, really BIG one

Reader, happily getting drunk off the drink Kitty brought you because it helps take away the pain of this entire interaction: a. .. a massage or something might be nice

Valentino, doing his contour: but baaaabe, I thought you told me you were shy about who puts their hands on your body. Are you trying to make me jealous?

Angel, desperately trying to ignore Val blowing you a kiss and you clearly having bites and hickies alllllllll over you like there wasn't a single inch of you the moth didn't put his hands mouth or otherwise on: uh huh! Cool! So! Guess we can! Decide later right! :)

Valentino, doing his nails: wrong 💅 I also need you to

And the mf is just doing that shit for like 20 minutes straight which doesn't SOUND like a lot but when you're standing there just talking and waiting and, especially having a moment like THIS, it's just DRAGGING ON, and when Angel finally leaves, you're crying, and here's Valentino, "awwww, pobrecita, come here, what's wrong?" and hugging you and you need the comfort and you're drunk and, now maybe you're just a little scared he's the only person you have left....

Also. Bonus round for the angst. Can you imagine. Angel runs off and it's you sleeping with Valentino that finally hurts him so much he's finally RUNNING running away, meeting Charlie, having another place to live. He's still working under contract but the second his shift ends he's out of the studio without another word because... he can't protect you anymore. He feels like this is his fault. He failed Molly and now he failed you and he's worthless and trash and an addict loser-- meanwhile you're beating yourself up because you've lost your only friend down here and also your biggest supporter and Valentino all but lovebombs you (and the worst part is, it's genuine and if you reject ANYTHING, he's getting Offended Bigly)

Ugh. Ok. I'm sorry. Finally finishing the post with one more thing. Valentino is definitely the type to give you expensive gifts and he doesn't actually care about the amount of money he spends on you BUT, will use the fact he's spent so much money on you to manipulate you IN A HEARTBEAT

And also. You're not allowed to reject gifts because it sets him off in like 5 different ways. "Oh so my gifts aren't good enough for you?" "Do you have any idea how much I spent on this?" "I TOOK THE TIME to get this for YOU" God forbid if it's something custom. Could you imagine he offers you something and he doesn't immediately tell you it's custom, like he's got sketches in a notebook somewhere, this is MADE WITH LOVE ableit his creepy obsessive love, and you could literally have a very polite "oh my gosh I couldn't that's so expensive I, I don't deserve it, wow" where you're obviously very happy but just shocked and feeling guilty, like a FLATTERING rejection that is obviously an insult to YOU, NOT him, and he's just. The switch fucking flips. His head tilts. He lets out a hum as his smile pulls way too tight. Lashes out within seconds. Grabs you. takes that jewelry or watch or expensive thing he bought you and literally forces it onto your body, and he's not screaming or raising his voice, he's getting right up in your face and growling out the deeeeeetails of how he got this for you until you're crying and apologizing for your ingratitude

Ugh he's so cunty and mean and awful UGH WHY WOULD I LET HIM HIT, he would use that heart shaped belt he has to put heart shaped welts on your ass and then set your cute bruised heart covered butt as his phone wallpaper and your icon in his contacts and save your name as Ropebunny or something rhfkcsbfkhdxkfh

#yandere hazbin hotel #yandere x reader #valentino x reader #hh #yandere hellaverse #sinprompts #i actually started thinking of an idea where val calls reader bunny but funny enough bunny reader x val fics exist! kudos #in my idea reader isnt a bunny but jokingly calls themself the energizer bunny after val comments on them fidgeting while serving him #he starts calling you bunny so then he has 'his Kitty and his Bunny' fndkcbffjf #ive also thought of scenarios where valentino accidentally breaks kitty and forces reader to be his new servant and keeps it that way #like can you imagine. kitty gets fixed and val STILL has you wait on him lmao. reality hitting you like a brick wall

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling my mom to either get me what I've asked for, or to just get me gift cards?

This probably makes me sound horrible and ungrateful, but this is an issue I've had for about the last ten years of my life. I love my mother dearly, and I am so insanely grateful that we are in a financial position where we can receive gifts at all. I'd genuinely be happy with just a card and a cozy day in, but my mom always insists it isn't Christmas without at least one or two things under the tree.

I always ask her routinely as we inch toward the later months of the year what she'd like, and I do my best to get her exactly what she wants. I'll get her one or two other things too, like some skincare or chocolates or shoes or something, but I always stick to what she actually asks for.

If she asks me for a specific dress, she'll get it. If she asks me for a certain type of perfume, she'll get it.

The same....Cannot be said for her.

I've begged her over the years to just stick to getting me what I ask for. I don't ask for anything expensive. I think the most expensive thing I've ever asked for were concert tickets, and I offered to pay half. I just more or less wanted help actually getting them, because as we all know, concert tickets sell so fast its like you blink and they're gone, and the more people you have trying to get them the more chances of success.

Usually I'll ask for something like a particular poster I saw online, or a bedding set, a new phone case, ect. Small, easy to get things because honestly, I don't need that much.

What I actually end up with is a bunch of random stuff I will never use and clothing I'd never wear and once or twice, tickets to do things I hate doing.

Its like she asks me what I want then goes out of her way to get me the exact opposite of what I've asked for. She always pouts at me and berates me for 'looking disappointed' or never using anything she gets me (I hold onto it for a few months then quietly give it away to a friend or thrift store).

It makes me feel guilty, but this is a conversation we have every. Single. Christmas.

(For example I'll ask for, say, a pair of white shoes. What I'll actually get is a box of wind up toys from the dollar store, expensive paint brushes when I've never touched paint in my life, and a box of chocolates from a brand I don't like.)

This year, once again, she asked me for my list, and I just gave her some stores and told her I'd like gift cards to those places. She gave me a weird look and dropped it, but asked again a few times, and each time I just reiterated what stores I wanted gift cards to.

Well lo behold, I come home from college and there's packages under the tree. Proper packages, not just envelopes or anything else that a gift card would realistically be in.

I guess I was staring at the tree with a weird/sour expression, because it wound up starting an argument between us. Her argument was she's getting me gifts, I should be grateful, and she tries really hard but I'm just 'impossible to please.'

My argument is I tell her repeatedly exactly what I want and not once have I ever gotten what's actually on my list. In which case, why the fuck should I bother writing a list? I'd rather have the gift cards so I can buy exactly what I wanted in the first place.

She said I ask for clothes, I get clothes. I said I ask for specific clothes and she gets me ones that I wouldn't even look at in the store, let alone buy.

The whole argument ended up with her calling me an ungrateful asshole and confiscating my gifts to return them all after the New Year. She told me I can just have the money from returning them and 'be fucking happy for once.'

Its Christmas Eve and she's still not speaking to me. I feel terrible, but I'm also relieved. Either this means from now on she won't get me anything, or from now on if she asks for my list she'll actually get me what's on it.

My dad is staying in the middle. He said I'm right, and over the years he's tried to convince her not to buy all that stuff, but he also said I should've just done what I always do, fake a smile, and get rid of it later.

Is he right or was this fight a blessing in disguise? Am I the asshole for ruining Christmas or am I justified in voicing what I have for the last ten years running?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[armins-main-hoe]

Hi! I really liked ur writing so I was wondering if u can do this?

Inarizaki and shiratorizawa (or one of them) with a fem manager that gets into fights often? But it's because they have roots to delinquent family members so they're pretty recognisable,,, also she kicks ass pretty good so most of the time she comes out alive

aw thank you for liking my writing and for the request. Sorry I couldn't get round to writing it up sooner :/

"Oh no, you've got it all wrong. She does bite."

When you first signed up to be the manager for the boy's volleyball team, you really didn't think much of it. You only signed up because your parents wanted you to go to some sort of after school club.

You didn't like any of the clubs so you decided to be a manager for a sports team. Besides, you didn't think a manager would have to do much since most of the organisation for matches would be done by the teachers and coaches.

So here you are on your first day being introduced to the boys in the team.

Inarizaki

You stood before them with a deadpan face on.

"Hey, I'm Y/n L/n and I'll be your manager from today onwards."

They boys bowed and said their greetings but you still felt like some of them were looking at you funny. So you looked at one, he had bleached yellow hair. (Atsumu Miya)

"What?"

He tilted his head up and looked down at you suspiciously.

"Are you the Y/n L/n who got into a fight with Hiroto Ito a week ago?"

"Yeah, why? You looking for a fight too?"

Another boy came forward, he was slightly shorter but still a few inches taller than you with with black spikes for hair that went upwards. (Michinari Akagi)

"It was about time someone put that guy in his place. He was actually really annoying, would never let us practice in peace."

To your surprise, this boys were actually pretty nice to you and as you watched them practice you saw the passion they had for the sport.

Almost made you feel guilty for signing up for this role when you knew nothing about Volleyball.

You would hand out water bottles and towels during their breaks and tried your best to memories their names. Took you a few days to do that though.

Over the next few weeks, you ended up growing fond of the team and the team members which lead you to put more effort in your role as the manager.

You would take notes about each player, their strengths and weaknesses and you took time out of your day to learn the rules for volleyball. You didn't even realise when but your passion for the sport grew and grew.

Soon even the team members saw the improvement in you and grew fond of you as their manager. They hadn't ever had one before you and you were already setting their standard for a manager pretty high.

Soon you would even tease and joke around with them.

Their coach loved having you around for practice since the boys were actually kinda scared of you whenever they would mess up and made them try their very best each practice.

There was a time where they had a competition to go to where there would be a few other schools' volleyball teams attending too. It was your first match that you would be attending with them as their manager. Since it was your first, you didn't actually know how big the team's cheer squad was, which surprised you a bit when you first saw. There was also a crowd everywhere you went so it made it hard to move and get from one place to another.

However, around 15 minutes before matches you realised that Kita was missing for more than 10 minutes. The team can't play without their captain present. So you went to go quickly find him. After a few minutes you found him about to enter the changing rooms.

"Where were you? The team was waiting for you." You asked him.

"I had my phone on me and I was going to put it in a locker before the matches start." He put his phone up to show you. Before you or him could say anymore, someone from the crowd passing by with a hooded face snachted his phone and ran.

"Go back to the team. Go!" You pushed him in the direction to the entrance of the sports hall and then ran after the hooded face.

The guy ran down the streets and into an ally way which lead to a dead end. He turned around you saw that he was wearing a mask as well.

"Heh, what's a little girl like you gonna do huh?" The guy's voice came out a little muffled from his mask.

"A lot."

Safe to say you managed to beat his ass with the new moves your uncles had taught you. Though you did get a few scratches on your face and knuckles but you got Kita's phone back and the hooded guy seemed pretty beat up.

Running back to the competition, you just hoped Kita hadn't worried too much to mess up his performance. By the time you got back and made it to the coaches side, you saw that your team was already playing their first match.

At some point, Kita met your eyes and you gave him a toothy grin and a thumbs up while holding his phone in your other hand. He smiled back before focusing back on the game.

When they had a break in between the match, you handed out water bottles. When you gave one to Kita, he saw the scratches on your face.

"Did you get into a fight?"

"No, drink your water and don't worry, you're phone is in perfect condition."

"You got hurt though." When he said that, a few of the other team members turned around to check on you.

"Damn miss manager, you really shouldn't be kicking ass while your team is out here playing a match." Atsumu teased. He didn't know you chased a guy down an ally who stole his captain's phone.

"You know you should be careful or she might just kick your ass Atsumu." Osamu told him, sending you a smile before him and his brother began to bicker.

You shooed them all away once the break was over while rolling your eyes at their teasing remarks.

You had a small smile as you watched them play and you felt like this wouldn't be the first time you would get into a fight for them but you really couldn't care. They can repay you by getting first place.

Shiratorizawa

"I'm Y/n L/n and I'll be your manager from today forwards."

You were there at every practice they had, they would see you taking notes and giving out water bottles. You learned all their names and positions within 3 days. You were doing everything one would expect a manager to do and you would do it flawlessly.

Which actually surprised them since you were known throughout the school to get into fights with other students both in your school and from other schools.

However, not long since you began being their manager, you once came to practice late with some bruises on your hands and a rather sour mood.

Tendo asked you about it but you just shooed him away to practice more, even hitting him with your clipboard.

Another time, you came to practice with your hair a bit messy and a busted lip that had been poorly treated. Though luckily that time the coach wasn't there to report it to another teacher and Eita Semi and Kenjiro Shirabu dragged you to the infirmary to get it treated properly.

Once, you came to practice after a fight which you personally found very easy to finish. You didn't get any big, obvious injuries so to the other team members, they thought you hadn't came back from a fight and continued practice like usual.

But the captain knew otherwise. When he came over to the side to get a drink he walked over to you.

"So, who did you fight with today?"

"Huh, how did you know?"

"I'm an excellent observer."

"Uhh sure, well it wasn't anything too bad. So don't worry about me."

He chuckled.

"I'm not worried about you, I'm worried about the kid you beat up. Wonder what condition he is in right now."

"Gee captain, thanks for caring about your manager so much."

You both laughed before you fell silent.

"The bastard wouldn't quit saying nonsense about the team and starting up rumours." You told him.

"Aw, so you do care about us!" Tendo popped up on the other side of you.

"Fuck tendo! You scared me, I nearly punched you."

He laughed and put an arm around you.

"You beating up guys who talk shit about us? How thoughtful of you manager."

"Tendo do you want me to beat you up with my clipboard again?"

"Hehe, it's like we have our own personal bodyguard."

You smacked him with your clipboard.

"ow! Okay, okay, I'll stop. Gonna go practice some more. Talk to ya later miss bodyguard- I mean manager."

"Tendo!"

The other team members looked over at you and Tendo and were either laughing or sighing. "Looks like he is gonna get his ass beat again."

"He really should stop riling her up, she is actually kinda scary."

"Yeah but tendo is another breed, he isn't afraid."

Thank you for this request anon, this was pretty fun to write. Hope you enjoyed reading it!

#haiykuu #shiratorizawa #inarizaki #suna rintaro #miya osamu #atsumu miya #kita shinsuke #miya twins #tendo #ushijima wakatoshi #eita semi #shirabu kenjirou #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu atsumu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu manager #manager reader x haikyuu #headcanon #x reader #armins main hoe

[dreamyenskz]

days like this || bang chan x fem!reader (ft. skz)

↳ you go on a road trip with the boys

↳ masterlist

genre: fluff

warnings/notes: chan and reader are disgustingly cute, reader is the same age as chan, kinda short

*lowercase intended

"are we almost there?"

"i'm so tired!"

"get your feet off of me!"

"i need to go to the bathroom~"

"han is drooling on me!"

"why are you touching my butt?"

"why did we agree to thi-"

the group reaches a stop light. chan decided to take the chance to turn around. "hey, respectfully.. shut up!" he yells at them.

the boy's immediately go silent while you were in the passenger seat, stifling your laughter. you looked back at the kids and you felt a little bad. you know that they're all tired and can't seem to keep still, but poor channie has to take care of his seven grown children. you grab his hand and caress it with your thumb to comfort him. chan looks over at you and smiles. he brings your hand to his mouth and kisses it.

you can hear the low sounds of disgust coming from behind you two.

"if i had realized earlier that we'd have to be stuck with this for hours, i wouldn't have come." hyunjin whines.

you and chan look at each other. it's like you two communicate telepathically and know exactly what to do. that's when you both lean in to peck each other on the lips. when you separate, all the boys groan in disgust and whine like little kids. you and chan start giggling at their reactions.

it's 12 am. you guys were currently on a road trip. it was one of those spontaneous ideas that the boys have thought of. (i honestly have no idea where lmfao let your imagination run free). chan has been driving for the past 3 hours with a couple breaks in between. you could see how tired he was. it didn't help that the kids were complaining and asking questions. chan was glad that you came along. it was originally supposed to just be a group thing, but he knew that he was gonna need the extra help to stay sane. when chan asked the rest of the boys if you could come, they were more than happy to say yes. they all really enjoy having you around. they depend on you like the mother of the group. your relationship with each of the boys developed at different rates. half of them, you immediately clicked with. for the rest of them, it took a while to warm up to you. now, you get along with all of them fairly. every moment you spend with them gets pretty chaotic but you enjoy it nonetheless.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

after about a half hour more of driving, chan pulls up to another gas station. he turns the ignition off and turns around. "if any of you guys need to get food or use the bathroom, go now." all of the boys get out to stretch out, leaving you and chan alone in the van.

"thank you for being here, y/n. i think i'd be going crazy the moment we got into the van if you weren't here. we all really needed this small vacation before going back to work, but i guess i kind of forgot that the kids can be pretty crazy." he chuckles and looks over at you. he has a soft smile on his face but you can still see those beautiful dimples trying to peek out

"of course, channie. i love spending time with all of you. the kids drive me crazy too, but god it would be so boring without them in my life. i have you to thank for giving my life more adventure. after meeting you, i wouldn't have it any other way." you say, leaning in closer to chan.

you start getting closer and your faces are only an inch apart until the kids quickly start coming back into the van. they all seem to have a little more energy after putting some more food into their system. this causes you and chan to part and jump a little.

"alright let's get back on the road!" felix says excitedly

chan starts the van and grabs your hand. you look over at him and he leans over to give you a quick peck on the lips. good lord the butterflies he is giving you is no joke.

you hear tiny mumbles and sounds of disgust. "we'll let this one slide because i guess you guys are somewhat cute." seungmin said. you guys start laughing and shaking your head. chan put the van on drive and goes back onto the road. for the rest of the drive, you and the boys sing and dance along to a bunch of kpop songs.

while you're having fun, you look around at the boys. you realize how grateful you are for the life that's been given to you. you have chan to partially thank for that. he's been nothing but the best and you appreciate everything he's done. you can't help but just stare at him as he's singing. he just looks so happy and you would do everything in your power to keep seeing him like that.

the screaming of the kids brought you back to reality, and you continue to sing along very off key with them.

it's days like this that you wouldn't trade for the world.

i've been having a lot of chan soft thoughts lately so yeah lol

i hope you guys enjoyed this one! if you did check out my other works :)

please give feedback or reblog if you find this!

#stray kids #bang chan #stray kids bang chan #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #bang chan fluff #christopher bang #skz fic #stray kids fic #skz imagine #bang chan imagine #bang chan skz #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #bang chan x reader #christopher bang fluff

[scribbling-dragon]

Hi!! can you write some fluff about pearl's slumber party?

absolutely! the little segment at the end of everyone's videos was so silly,, hope this did it justice!

hush hush

summary:

“Shush,” Pearl hisses, slightly more forceful than the last few times she’s told him to be quiet. “You're going to wake them up.” Despite her warning, she continues to let out small giggles every few seconds, and his comm continues to wobble in his hands as he tries to focus the camera. [Or, a small snippet from the sleepover at Pearl's.]

(ao3 link)

(1,531 words)

Pearl shushes him, even as she continues to giggle and distort the sound with her quiet hiccupping. She clasps a hand over her mouth a moment later in an attempt to muffle any sound she makes, while the other hand is held up in a command for silence.

Grian is doing much better in his attempts to stifle his own giggles, wobbling slightly as he leans further over the sleeping pair. He has to make sure he angles this properly, otherwise the photo is going to be ruined by his shadow.

“Shush,” Pearl hisses, slightly more forceful than the last few times she’s told him to be quiet. “You're going to wake them up.” Despite her warning, she continues to let out small giggles every few seconds, and his comm continues to wobble in his hands as he tries to focus the camera.

He shakes his head and ducks down, still giggling. He’s not even sure what’s funny anymore, what it was that set them both off in the first place, but it’s gone three a.m. and everything has become wildly hilarious.

“Ugh,” both he and Pearl freeze. That small sound was more than enough to shut the two of them up. They turn their heads as one towards the source of the noise, his arms still extended and holding his comm out to take a photo. Skizz squints one eye open, looking about until it lands on them. “What’re you two doing?”

“Securing future blackmail material,” he whispers back, painfully aware of how close he is to everyone else and how easy it would be to wake someone else. He manages to finally get the perfect angle, no shadows cast over the target of his photo. The photo is snapped with a small click, and he pulls his trembling arms back towards himself.

“Nothing.” Pearl says, just moments after him. She turns a glare in his direction as soon as she’s spoken, fierce enough that he momentarily draws back an inch. “Gri! Why’d you spill the beans?”

“Shh,” he’s the one shushing her this time. “You don't wanna wake them, do you?”

“Course not. Just look at ‘em,” she gestures towards Jimmy and Tango. Grian, personally, couldn’t care less if they woke them now. The blackmail material is already safely tucked away into a secure folder, ready for the next opportunity to use it. (He’s thinking maybe at Jimmy’s birthday. Or Tango’s. He could put it on one of those custom cards.) “They're so cute like this.”

Skizz huffs a breath at that, almost sounding like he just disagreed with a widely agreed upon sentiment.

Grian pauses at the same time as Pearl, each of them staring at the other before turning as a single unit towards Skizz, where the man has just begun to sit up.

“Skizz,” Grian says, drawing the word out as a smile curls over his face.

“You got something you wanna share?” Pearl leans a little closer, eyes wide with excitement.

“It’s creepy when you two do that,” Skizz tells them, pointing a finger like he’s trying to be stern. “I hope you know that. You're like some freaky twines straight outta horror film.”

They turn to look at each other then back at Skizz. “Creepy?”

“Uh, yeah. Did you see what you just did then?”

Grian maintains his confused expression for only a moment longer, breaking down into giggles. He leans up against Pearl as he laughs, feeling the way her shoulders shake as she leans into him as well. “Oh, man,” he swipes a thumb under his eye. “Skizz, your face.”

“What about my face,” Skizz crosses his arms. “There’s nothing wrong with my face.”

“Oh, nevermind,” Pearl waves a hand flippantly. “What I do mind is you keeping secrets from everyone else. You got something you wanna say about our lovebirds over there?”

Grian glances back at Jimmy and Tango, finding that they’ve somehow managed to cuddle even closer to each other. Tango’s being held tightly by Jimmy, as though he’s some oversized teddy-bear, barely visible between Jimmy’s arms and wings. Tango, for his part, seems rather content with this arrangement, tail curled around Jimmy’s leg as the pair continue to sleep.

“Ugh, what don't I have to say about those two,” Skizz drops his head to cradle it in his hands. “I know we called it Love Island and all, but I think that name needs to be changed now.”

“Heart Foundation sounded fine to me,” Grian frowns. “I don't see why you had to change it.”

“Cleo said-” Skizz cuts himself off with a shake of his head. “You know what, nevermind.”

“What did Cleo say?” Pearl scoots a little closer to Skizz.

“Nothing, nothing.” Skizz laughs. “We changed it because Cleo said the name was bad. That we have bad taste in names.”

“Uh-huh,” Grian gets the feeling they're not being told the full reason, especially with the way Skizz snuck a glance over at him, only to look again when he realised Grian was still watching him. “Sure.”

“I'm being serious,” Skizz holds his hands up. “D’you wanna hear what I have to say or not? Because I'm perfectly happy to just go back to sleep…” Skizz starts to roll over, pulling the blanket of his temporary bed up to his shoulders.

“No,” he lunges forward and tugs the blanket away, wrapping it around himself and grinning smugly at Skizz. He pauses, then sticks his tongue out for good measure. “I’ll give this back if your story is good enough.”

Skizz pulls a face. “No way. You can just say that it’s not good enough, there’s no categories to rank it against.”

“Fine. I’ll give it back once you finish telling us the story.”

“I was just gonna say how they're constantly being all…sickly sweet with each other,” Skizz gestures towards Jimmy and Tango. “Jimmy comes over to Love Island, and he swims through the water every single time. I think he does it just because he knows how Tango will react!”

“And how does Tango react?”

“He’ll laugh at him for a second, and then he’ll go get a towel – and this towel specifically belongs to Jimmy for when he does this. And then they’ll just sit there as Tango lovingly goes through and dries every single feather; it’s cute, but it becomes a little less cute when your buddy just dropped you, again, to go help his boyfriend recover from being an idiot.”

“Shh,” Pearl warns, glancing over at Joel as he shifts in his sleep, then rolls over, muttering something incomprehensible. “Don't wanna wake anyone.”

“Sorry.” Skizz continues a little quieter a moment later, “You know that storm we had a few days ago?”

“Ugh, yeah,” he shivers at the thought, feathers puffing up a little behind him. He’d been stuck inside a temporary shelter until the rain stopped being so heavy for fear of waterlogging his wings and then having to spend hours drying them out again. “Horrible weather.”

“They were worse.” Skizz’s face flattens. “Jimmy was fussing over how warm Tango was, and then Tango was fussing over how wet Jimmy’s wings were. I couldn’t even leave! I just had to sit there and watch them be all lovey-dovey while it was miserable outside.”

“Well,” he reaches over to pat Skizz on the shoulder. “I don't have a solution for you there. But sorry for your loss, or whatever.”

“Like, I love the guy! But there’s some things you don't do when your house doesn’t have any dividing walls!”

“Oh my god, did they-”

“Ew, no,” Skizz reels back. “Ew, don't even make me think about that, man. No, they didn’t. But Tango is loud when he purrs, and it’s really difficult to sleep with a motor engine rumbling on in the background!” Huh. Funny. Grian hadn’t noticed Tango purring at all earlier, despite being so wrapped up in Jimmy’s embrace.

All three of them freeze again as a small snuffling sound permeates the silence, turning as one being towards where Jimmy stirs. “Issit day yet?”

Grian throws Skizz’s blanket back towards him in a panic, wrapping himself in his own as he acts like he was asleep the entire time. He hears similar frantic shuffling of fabric as the other two copy him, before everything falls silent again.

Grian can still see where Jimmy and Tango lie together, holding his breath as he waits for Jimmy to go back to sleep.

“No,” one of Tango’s eyes slits open. Grian can see the way it glows in the gloom. “Go back to sleep, it’s the middle of the night still.”

Jimmy makes a small humming noise before he, seemingly, goes back to sleep.

Grian can feel his heart thumping in his chest, a little giddy at being caught. Especially when Tango’s eye continues to remain slit open, the faint light remaining for another minute or so before Tango, too, goes back to sleep.

Or maybe falls asleep for the first time that evening.

…Was he awake that whole time?

Grian muffles a nervous giggle into the palm of his hand, hearing as Pearl, then Skizz start giggling a little as well.

#writing requests are still open <3 #if anyone has any ideas for something. the only thing i'm working on rn is my halloween fic #asks #lovequeerloki #juno.writes #secret life smp #slsmp #slsmp spoilers #skizzleman #pearlescentmoon #grian #trafficshipping #(references to solidaritek) #secret life skizz #secret life pearl #secret life grian #secret life smp fic #trafficfic

[noirvette]

stan and kyle! w/ a plus size fem! reader headcanons!!

cws: swearing but otherwise just pure fluff aged up characters!

♡ STAN MARSH

Stan thinks you're THE cutest girl in the world and he's stoked that he's your bf. Like people will say "Oh you're Stan's gf?" and he's like "no i'm HER bf, she's GOT me dude."

He's most definitely your biggest supporter and biggest defender.

I mentioned in my gen headcanons that he'd love his s/o to be wearing his jersey and this is multiplied tenfold. He absolutely LOVES and I mean LOVES seeing you in his jersey number. Guarantee win for South Park because seeing you just fueled his desire to smoke the other team.

Loves holding you. Just you two, laying in bed, you both just in each other's embrace. He could die the world's most happiest man at that moment.

Is a thick thigh fan. Like Stan (and Kenny but shh this isn't about Kenny) are #1 believers in the thick thighs save lives.

Despite him being your number one defender, he's more silent in how he defends you. Not that he won't outwardly confront someone if they're bothering you, it just happens to be he's like.. mean (that is not the word I want but I can't think of how else to put it) when he's silent and he knows this and uses it to his advantage.

If he's with you (or even if you're not with him) and overhears some randos talking about you he's into one of two modes.

First one is he turns around and just blank stares at the people and when they notice him he just.. looks up and down, eyebrow raised and does a MEAN side eye as he turns back around.

If they continue this leads into the second mode (which sometimes he starts off with this if he's had ENOUGH)

Second is that he pulls you into him, gives you a kiss, and turns to the people with a "my gf is better than you and you sob into your pillow every night bc you're lonely so shut the fuck up."

If they try and argue he's just "cry about it lmfao. Don't care plus you're balding."

Picks you up, doesn't even matter if you think he can't because he can. He's determined AND he's hella strong. Being on the football team has made his biceps BIG.

Said earlier than he loves holding you but I'm dead serious with this. He's such a cuddly big spoon and just holding you in his arms makes him giggly (got him blushing and kicking his legs)

Loves every part of you and if you feel self conscious over something he's kissing every inch.

If you're wearing something (or even just showing him the outfit) you normally wouldn't wear, he's whistling and complimenting on how you're making it work.

"You're looking good, babe. Wear it out, you're stunning."

Boy's in love WITH you.

♡ KYLE BROFLOVSKI

Is another one to defend, except he's throwing hard hands. And he wins because obviously, it's Kyle.

As he gets older, he's stopped making the weight comments on Cartman (thinks it was immature of him to do when younger) and has definitely grown from that.

He's got a major sleepers build in my eyes. He's lanky sure, but basketball and working out with Stan's got him that muscle to hold you too. (I'm thinking like moistcr1tikal kind of sleeper's build Kyle also has major biceps im actually trey parker and matt stone so). And he WILL pick you up if you're at a game of his and his team wins. Even if they lose he's still picking you up. You're like his happiness supplier.

Leaves you cute notes about how good you look in your locker every day, has not gone ONE day without doing it. Kyle's sick? Tough because he managed to get that note in there somehow (Stan slipped it in for him haha).

Back to him throwing hands real quick, he's quick to jump if someone is talking bad about you like a "What the FUCK did you say about my girl? Say it again, Say. It. Again." And boom he's one hit k.o the other person

If you're not a fan of this behavior, he's not beating up anyone physically but now it's verbally. He's making sure everyone knows not to ever comment on you and how that's a bitch thing to do.

If you're down about yourself, he's gonna sit down with you and just point every thing he loves about you and go into detail about how he's with you for you. Not because of what you look like or anything, but because you're his beautiful girl.

When he's the big spoon and cuddling you he rubs circles into your hips and presses kisses into your shoulder

If you're the big spoon, play with his hair and he's asleep within two seconds and his head is laying in the crook of your neck.

Similar to Stan if you're wearing an outfit you normally wouldn't, he's ecstatic. Got him going "MY BABY! You look so good!" and then moves you to the mirror and just holds your hips and is gushing over you.

Bro's got that love in his eyes.

Loves your thighs too, he's constantly got his head on your lap, reading a book and is in heaven with that quality time with you.

Loves for you to sit on his lap as well, you're worried about your weight on him? He does not care, he's got some strong ass legs and your weight isn't ever an issue in his eyes. He will literally make you sit on his lap. Even if that means he's gotta drag you.

"Love come sit" Kyle pats his legs as he calls for you, "Uh but..", "Wasn't a question," He responds, shrugging, "Now get over here, I wanna hold you.

#stan marsh #kyle broflovski #stan marsh x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #stan marsh headcanons #kyle broflovski headcanons #south park #south park headcanons #south park x reader #fluff #anon requests!!

[jasmyluv]

025. Vermillion Dreams

wc: 1.5k (warning!! Long post ahead)

"Hey." A voice catches your attention. You look in front of you and see a black car with its window rolled down, Scaramouche in the driver's seat.

"Hi, Scara!" You smile at him innocently, walking closer to the car.

"Get inside, we'll be late if we don't go right now." He demands of you.

"Ah, that's not how you treat your date." You tease, snickering silently.

He groans, "Fine, stay there for me, alright?" Without a second thought, he rushes out of the car with a bouquet of roses in his hand. 

"Would this suffice?" He shows you red roses, hiding his red face behind them. 

"You're adorable, Scara." You say as you open your camera app and swiftly taking a picture of him.

"Wh- hey! Delete that." He says, the blush on his face increasing.

"No! You're very very cute." You say, opening twitter to flex your very very cute date.

"Here." Scaramouche utters as he opens the door of his car, inviting you in.

"Why, thank you, my charming knight." You say some pet name dramatically, he shouldn't be even blushing about, yet he finds himself as red as a tomato. You chuckle at his expression, why so red, hmm?

"Say, Scara. How far is Liyue?" You ask. From what you know, Liyue's not that far from where you live.

"An hour or so." He answers you, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Oh, alright." As you look at your surroundings, you take an interest at the sunset view that can be found in the sky, more specifically, the one behind Scaramouche. You couldn't lie, he was breathtaking. His features are adorned by the sky's soft glow. Entrancing.

"Take a picture, it lasts longer." He snaps you out of your daydream. 

"Alright." Within seconds, you take a picture of the alluring driver and the sunset.

"What- I meant that as a joke." He clears up.

"Well, I don't."

"Woah." You say out of surprise.

"What?" He asks, still looking at the road.

"Kaveh and Alhaitham are gay and dating." You tell him.

"Really?" He's taken aback. From what he sees on his timeliness, Kaveh wants to date you. Was that some practical joke?

"Yeah… I feel embarrassed." You confess. You genuinely didn't know they were dating.

"Why?" 

"Scara, have you SEEN my tweets? It's literally me wanting to date Alhaitham." You hide your face in the bouquet He gave you.

"It's fine, get over it." He tries to comfort you.

"Well, that's fine, I guess." 

For the rest of the car ride to Liyue, you were both silent. It wasn't awkward though. The car was wrapped in a comfortable atmosphere, you didn't feel the need to talk or do anything. You felt like you could sleep.

(timeskip; 6:04 PM, Liyue Harbour)

Turns out, you did sleep. 

"Hey, wake up. We're here." Scaramouche gently sways you awake, your eyes fluttering open as you hear the many citizens of the Harbour chatting away.

"Oh, wow! It's beautiful at night here. I wonder what they did for the Lantern rite this year." You say.

"I heard they're doing a music festival." He informs you, straightening his jacket.

"Ohh, cool." You quickly get out of the car, leaving your roses in your seat. You're excited to go into the Harbour, it’s been quite a while since you've last visited. 

"Hey, wait, [Name]." Scaramouche says, catching your attention once again.

"Yes?" He comes closer to you and fixes your collar and such because it was messed up while you were sleeping. You couldn't help but notice the close proximity of you two, inches away from each other's face.

"There, you're more presentable." So cocky.

"Shut up, Raiden." You were annoyed, but didn't care so much. You didn't care, you were used to his antics.

"Ah, last name basis now, are we? You hurt me." Was he an actor or something? If so, he'd better quit his job 'cause his skills were second to anyone.

"You suck at being dramatic." You say, trying to hide your already obvious laughter.

"Whatever. Do you know where we're going?" He asks.

"No?"

"Well then, keep your pretty eyes open and try not to fall behind." 

"Hmm, you think my eyes are pretty?" You ask mischievously. 

"You're a nuisance." He insults you. He grabs your hand and pulls you into the crowds of people on Lantern rite. 

-

To say that the music festival was amazing is an understatement. You met Aether and Yun Jin among the many people watching Xinyan and Hu Tao's performance. It was spectacular. 

The person from Fontaine was magnificent as well. The sweet melody the people played, along with a zither from nowhere, worked with perfect harmony. It was a night unforgettable to all.

"The fireworks were beautiful! It was like seeing the prettiest person alive for the first time. So colorful and lively." You describe the alluring fireworks in the sky, still sprouting out arrays of color. 

"It sure does. Let's explore Liyue for a bit, yes?" He invites you to roam the city of lanterns. You accept, wanting to see more.

Liyue is at its finest this year. Kids running around the streets, vendors selling Xiao lanterns, and the aroma of food in the air. An extraordinary sight to see, really.

"Scara, let's buy a lantern. We write our names on it!" You suggest, already pulling out money from your wallet.

"Alright." With a simple answer such as that, you drag him to the other side of the street where they sell lanterns.

"Hello!" You greet the vendor.

"Ah, hello, dear. Would you like to buy a lantern? It will give you and your boyfriend prosperity and luck." She says with a smile while both you and Scaramouche turn red. How could she make such an assumption?

"Yes, we'd like to buy a lantern. We're not dating though, haha." You awkwardly say, scratching your head.

"Oh? I'm sorry, dear. It's just that friends don't hold each other’s hands so much around here." She explains, giving you your Xiao lantern. You didn't realize your hand was still intertwined with his. You remove yours from his embrace, giving the money to the vendor.

"It's quite alright. Thank you!" You get your lantern and wave goodbye.

"She was nice." You say, trying to get rid of the uncomfortable atmosphere.

"Here." Scaramouche says, handing you a permanent marker. Why the hell does he have this?

"Oh, thanks." You thank him, getting the marker from his hand, brushing it in the process. You write both of your names on the lantern, making sure it's readable.

"...Alright. We can- uhm, set it free?" You stutter, having a hard time phrasing what you want to say. Though, you managed to make Scaramouche laugh, so that was good.

You go to a secluded area where you can freely set your lantern out. "1…2…3…go." You let go of the flaming light. It floats up, your names quite visible on the lantern.

You and Scaramouche have tired yourselves out, running around Liyue and trying out splendid food. You both sit down on an empty bench.

"...Hey, Scara?" You call for his attention.

"Yes?" He turns to look at you, giving you his undivided attention.

"Why did you leave before?" Oh.

"..." He stayed silent. He felt guilty, leaving you with no goodbye, no reason. It was wrong and he knew, yet he didn't do anything about it.

"It's alright if you don't want to say anything, the last thing I want to do is make you feel uncomfy." You reassure him, even though it meant not getting your wanted answers.

“No, it’s ok. We moved away to Snezhnaya because Ei thought it would give us a better life there. It did the complete opposite, it was a hellsite. Always snowed, even if it was summer. And the people there don’t come close to the weather. There was always going to be someone fighting because of something stupid like parking their cars a foot from their house… Ah, sorry for rambling, haha.” He quickly apologized. You didn’t care though, you got your answer.

“No, it’s alright. So, why didn’t you say anything to me?” You ask another question once more.

“I didn’t want to upset you or anything. I know how sad you’d be if I told you I’d be moving, I wasn’t thinking then.” He explains, his voice getting quieter, as if he was ashamed. He looked at his shoes, afraid to look at you. Why was he scared? Just then, he felt your arms wrap around him.

“Scara, it’s not your fault.” 

“I know, but-”

“No buts. It’s not your fault and it will never be, alright? You were young, you didn’t know what you were thinking.”

“You didn’t deserve thinking that I left you for no reason.” He says.

“I might have not, but I also don’t like seeing you saying it’s your fault for leaving. You were a kid, you had no choice but to follow your mother, alright?” You whisper, pulling apart. 

"Ok…" Thank you, [Name].

------------------------

previous :: MASTERLIST :: next

Of All People… - scaramouche x fem!reader smau

SYNOPSIS When you, a student who finds her best friend admits the terrors of high school. A best friend who’ve you’d hated ever since he left. Of all people, why was he the one to make you swoon, a person you swore to hate?

Fun facts!

Characters in this story study in Sumeru Akademiya

All characters can drive

Kavetham for the win!!!

Scaramouche is very very cute :)

Taglist; Open!

@viridescent-ivy @sakiimeo @ttoshiiroz @lxry-chxn @stopandget-help @r0ttenhearts @h-8chi @thenightsflower @killuixz @linn-a-a @vodkistt @raideneiari @yuyan @layla240 @barbatosfavouritenun @plinkuro @taikabae @beriiov @ghostxrism @rifran @elakari @kairxse @belovedxiao @alwaysmentallyill @mellowknightcolorfarm @xingyunclouds @scooofyaei @nambii @scaraapologist @samyayaya @kunikuzushisbeloved @dee-zbignuts @kaekazuha04 @monochromaticelliot @erosdevil @wisteriarain @kaoyamamegami @dazaiswifenicole @phoenix-eclipses @vivinsoul @vuvulia @r4yyyyy @cinnamontimecrunch @whatamidoing89 @aludicpoet @cindywasneverhere @vvasant @st0pthatsgay @kxr0mi @divinechicha @sketcheeee @wonderful-worlds

#jas writes #genshin x reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin imagines #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x you #kunikuzushi x y/n #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche angst #scara x reader #scaramouche smau #genshin smau #genshin x you #wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x y/n #the wanderer #wanderer smau #genshin impact wanderer #genshin wanderer #genshin scaramouche #genshin scara #🥇 - of all people...

[beesneedswords]

The Camp Mystery

A quick little story of camp and some of its happenings. (Idea from @alonelybeemakingart )

Sorry guys, I've been kinda out of it recently. Trying to get caught up and restarted on a lot of things.

Masterlist

You notice camp supplies dwindling. You still have several large bottles of wine and various ales and many potatoes growing eyes. Every time Gale grabs some cheese, you see him whittling away, getting as much mold as can can off of it. The bread he served is stale and starting to get blue and black spots on it. As far as meat goes, you and your companions have been holding onto one dried sausage for weeks now.

You look in the chest and see two wheels of cheese completely molded through and half of the potatoes are soft and covered in roots and eyes. You toss the rotten food into the trees and look at the remaining food: half a loaf of bread, 20 bottles of wine, 3 potatoes, a courgette, a wedge of cheese, and the dried sausage. You gather the food and two bottles of wine and head over to Gale.

He looks at the assortment and smiles sadly, "This is all?"

"We only have wine left." You shrug and place the food in a heap next to the campfire.

"Soup it is." He tries to muster a smile, but it's weak and finicky.

He takes his time cutting the vegetables into bite size pieces. The sausage he makes into such small pieces, it doesn't really resemble the meat at all. Gale toasts and cuts the bread until there's only one inch slices for everyone. When he's done with the meal he dishes out an equal serving for everyone.

Everyone seems to take their time, savoring every bite before it's gone. All too soon the bowls are empty and the cups are dry. As you all head to your tents and bedrolls, you see Astarion and Halsin retreat into the forest. You shrug it off assuming the vampire is looking for his next meal, the druid, however, is a mystery.

In the morning you go to the chest and find a rag full of raspberries, another full of honey comb, and another with various mushrooms and other edible plants. In several jars you see thin slices of meat. You turn to see Halsin, Astarion, and surprisingly Gale asleep next to the now smoldering fire.

You decide to grab a few sticks and make a makeshift drying rack hoping to make the meat last longer. You set out some berries and wait for the others to wake. You set Wyll and Lae'zel on protecting the meat from various wildlife before waking Astarion.

"I'm sorry to wake you, but we need to get going." You say.

Astarion stretches and gets himself ready for the day. As the days continue you notice more and more meat and berries in the chest. And every morning the three men are asleep next to a dead fire. One night you finally decide to stay up to see what they're up to. You already have a theory, the boys are going out to hunt and gather, but you just want to be sure.

After dinner, you head back to your tent to wait. You must've dozed off because the next thing you know the sounds of heavy feet and breathless gasps send your eyes flying open. You see Halsin with a cloth soaked in red and purple and Astarion dragging a small boar behind him. Just what you'd expected. They set everything down by the fire before making their way to Gale. He's the only piece you've never been able to figure out. They wake him gently and he quickly grabs a knife.

You watch as they each begin to separate and put away everything they found. They laugh and joke and tell stories as they do so. You never thought you'd see the day Astarion and Gale get along. You decide it's best not to say anything. They're getting along too well to ruin it.

#baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate iii #baldurs gate tav #bg3 #bg3 tav #{✿❀bg3✿❀} #baldurs gate fanfiction #tav #baldurs gate #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #bg3 gale #bg3 halsin #bg3 karlach #bg3 laezel #bg3 shadowheart #bg3 wyll #bg3 minthara #bg3 Jaheria #bg3 minsc #bg3 boo #bg3 fanfic #bg3 camp #bg3 companions #gale dekarios #astarion acunin #karlach cliffgate #wyll ravengard #laezel #shadowheart

[iamthecomet]

I just got four shots so I can travel and I feel like shit. Can I have Rain and Dew? You decide what happens, but I just want some Rain and Dewdrop.

-Solar Ghoul

I hope you're feeling better now! I'm sorry I didn't get this out when you wanted it most. But I hope it was worth the wait. Messy tour bus shenanigans below the cut.

It's 2am when Dew slides into Rain's bunk. The bus bumps and sways as he slips from his bunk into Rain's. He doesn't bother to ask, or see if Rain's awake. Rain always sleeps like shit on the tour bus. So chances are he's still awake, or halfway there. He presses his warm body up against Rain's back. Snaking arm around him to press flat over Rain's belly button. He feels the steady rise and fall of Rain's breath. Feels the way it hitches when Dew's hand slips up under his shirt to find soft skin.

Dew hooks his chin against Rain's shoulder, hot breath fanning over his neck, nose nuzzling into Rain's dark curls. He smells like the venue. Cigarettes, stale beer, chlorinated water, generic soap. Rain makes a small noise and shifts, turning his head and dislodging Dew's face so they can look at each other. Rain blinks blearily at him. He takes one of his earbuds out and offers it to Dew. He's barely awake.

Dew will deny until the day he dies the way his heart clenches in his chest when Rain looks at him like this. Dew takes the earbud, fits it in his ear.

He has to turn his head to muffle his laugh in Rain's pillow. "Seriously?"

"What?" Rain asks, rolling onto his other side so they're face to face.

"How is Nine Inch Nails, sleeping music?"

"Whatever works," Rain replies with a shrug.

Dew slips his hand around to rest on the back of Rain's neck. He pulls until Rain tips his head down and presses their foreheads together.

"What are you doing here, Dewdrop?"

Dew slips his other hand up under Rain's t-shirt, grazing calloused fingers over the soft hair on Rain's belly. His tail comes to curl around one of Rain's thighs loosely.

"Can't sleep."

"So you thought feeling me up would help?"

"Usually does." Dew doesn't bother trying to fake innocence. He just drags his fingers up higher to thumb over one of Rain's nipples. He uses his tail to tug Rain's leg over his hip. He grinds his hips up. Dew's already hard, has been for the better part of twenty minutes. Laying in the bunk above Rain's trying to decide if he just wanted to jerk off or if he wanted to make it Rain's problem. It's always more fun with a partner. He can feel how Rain is fattening up through the thin sweatpants. Another grind of their hips together has Rain gasping. He tips his head back and Dew latches onto the side of his neck with tongue and teeth, sucking a deep bruise onto his skin while Rain grabs Dew's hips and drags him forward, slotting their bodies further together.

"Dew," Rain gasps, reaching up to pull at Dew's hair to try to dislodge him. "Dew, please."

"Please what, Raincloud?" "You started this, the least you can do is touch me." "'m taking my time," Dew says, digging his teeth into the skin above Rain's collarbone. Rain makes a reedy noise. Dew thinks after all this time that Rain should be used to this, or that Dew should be used to how quickly Rain unravels under Dew's ministrations. But it never ceases to floor him. To send rolling desire through his stomach. It takes almost nothing, a couple well-placed bites, the grind of their hips together, to reduce Rain into a needy puddle. "Gotta be quiet," Dew whispers, pressing a line of open-mouth kisses up Rain's throat, over his jaw. "Don't want to wake up the whole bus." It's a fool's errand, Dew knows. Before he goes too far he's going to have to shove his fingers, or Rain's shirt, or even the corner of the pillow into Rain's mouth. Rain is quiet until someone gets a hand on his dick, and then he loses all volume control.

"Bet you're slick already," Dew whispers, his lips almost pressed against Rain's, their breath mingling in the minuscule space.

Rain nods. "C'mon, Dew. Don't be mean."

"This isn't mean," Dew chides. If it wasn't the middle of the night on a tour bus he'd show Rain mean. He'd work him up. Finger him until he cried. Whisper filth into his ear until he was begging for it.

Dew wishes for a hotel. Wishes for a way to press Rain into a mattress and really give him everything he wants. He settles for dragging both of their pants down to their thighs. He offers his palm to Rain's mouth. He doesn't even have to ask. Rain licks a sloppy path up Dew's palm.

Dew wraps his slick hand around both of them. Rain's wet already, dripping precum, making the slide even easier. Dew covers Rain's mouth with his other hand just before Rain starts to whine. He basks in the muffled noises, the shake of Rain's body against his, the way Rain grips hard at his t-shirt. Rain fucks up into his fist. Dew does the same, holding his hand steady and rolling his cock against Rain's in coordinated strokes. "Can't wait to get you in a real bed," Dew whispers. "Gonna take such good care of you. Get you so loud the whole hotel knows exactly what I'm doing to you. Make everyone jealous." Rain shudders, the thrusts of his hips going erratic already. "You'd like that, huh? You wanna go to breakfast the next day covered in bruises. Make sure everyone in the whole building knows how good I fuck you." Rain's eyes roll up in his head. He bites down hard on Dew's palm when he cums. Cock kicking hard against Dew's, cumming in thick spurts all over both of them. "Oh fuck," Dew groans. Rain manages to pull one of his hands away from its death grip on Dew's shirt. He bats Dew's messy hand away and takes over, stroking him from root to tip, slicked with Rain's cum and the mix of their pre. Dew closes his eyes. His head thumps forward to rest against Rain's collarbone. "Satanas, Rainy. I'm gonna, shit." Dew turns his head to dig his fangs into Rain's pillow as he cums, adding to the mess between them. Rain pulls him into a kiss as he comes down. It's soft, easy, sleepy. Dew has just enough energy left to pull his pants back up before he's drifting off in the circle of Rain's arms. He'll deal with the mess in the morning.

#comet writes #request #ficlet #solar ghoul #Raindrop #Rain/Dewdrop #Dewdrop/Rain #Rain x Dew #Rain/Dew #Dew x Rain #Dew/Rain #The Band Ghost fan fiction #ghost fic #ghost fan fic #ghost fan fiction #nameless ghoul fan fiction #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #unedited

[therealtruealiyah]

NOVA - dreamland

Every living, breathing being has experienced the feeling of surrealism. The feeling that the moment they're in cannot possibly be the life they're living. The feeling that their reality has somehow melded with their fantasy.

This is how Raine felt as she looked down at her hand engulfed within Nova's... gazing in a feverish daze upon the back of Nova's perfectly blonde head as she led her deeper into the bar.

"Is here okay?" Nova's words sounded as if Raine's ears were underwater.

"Hmm? Did you say something?" Raine blinked while the sounds and lights around her came more into focus.

"Would you like to settle here, my love?" Nova smiled, amused at the blazing effect she has on Raine in such a short period of time.

"Oh! Yeah... yes. Here's fine." They took their seats at a twosome table in a dimly lit corner of Luigi's Bar.

And so it began...

"Can I get y'all anything?" A quirky young lady bounced over to them to take their order. She wore ripped black shorts, knee-high purple socks, black suspenders, and a purple cropped top with Luigi's written across her ample bosom in faded black letters.

"I'll have an old fashioned and whatever my lady is drinking please, cheers." Nova spoke boldly and firmly.

"I— can I get a whiskey and sprite?" Raine bit back the last of her words. The barista nodded and bounced away, her feet turned so far toward each other that it was impossible not to stare.

"You're adorable." Nova smirked.

"Am I, really?" Raine laughed nervously, her cheeks flushing yet again.

"So... Raine Jackson." Nova dropped her voice to an almost whisper as she leaned closer. The sound of her name on this woman's lips was just enough to undo her completely.

"Yes, Nova?" Raine's eyes dropped to the plump of Nova's bottom lip and there they remained.

"Tell me... what's a girl like you doing working all alone — and probably underpaid — at some mom and pop clothing shop? Is this how you imagined your life to be?" Nova's question threw Raine for a loop, for she wasn't expecting to have such a deep and intimate conversation on the first date. Raine's eyes shot back up to Nova's.

"Actually, no, it isn't. I dropped out of college to take care of my grandmother when she fell sick. She and my grandpa are the ones who raised me... my grandpa died when I was 14, so my grandma was all I had left in the world. She meant everything to me. And when she died..." Raine trailed off, trying her damndest to swallow the nagging lump that has suddenly made its appearance in her throat.

"You lost all hope." Nova finished. Just then, the barista came and sat down their drinks.

"Here ya are! One old fashioned and one whiskey with sprite. Can I get y'all anything else?" She smiled.

"Thank you, we're good." Raine mumbled, grasping desperately at her drink. Nova placed her warm hand on top of Raine's, stopping her from grabbing her drink as recklessly as she was going to.

"Be still. Sit with the pain. This alcohol won't magically snatch it away. It hasn't before and it won't now." Nova's voice was the calmest thing Raine has ever had the pleasure of listening to. She felt the tears well up in her eyes. Oh, no! Not here! Not now! She thought to no prevail. The tears kept coming.

"I've been so alone." She hung her head, attempting to shelter her face from possible onlookers in the crowded bar.

"I wanted to be a pediatrician. I was damn good at it, too. I was so close."

"Go back, my love."

"It's too late. I can't just pick back up where I left off. Besides, I'm 26 years old! What if I—" Raine was cut off by Nova's sudden grabbing of her jaw. Nova brought Raine's face a half of an inch away from her own.

"Doubt is the weak mind attempting to overthrow the mighty." Nova growled in a hearty whisper, a burning fire in her eyes.

"Nova." Raine was aroused. Intrigued. Enflamed. It's not that she loved being handled, no. She just loved being handled by her. Raine needed more... more of whatever it was that Nova was doing to her. Nova released her jaw slowly and stroked her cheek comfortingly.

"You can do anything, Raine Jackson." Every time Nova said her name, Raine fell deeper into enchantment.

"Can I do you?" She whispered before she could stop herself.

"Not before I do you." Nova grinned wickedly. At this, Raine immediately gushed sweet natural juices down below. She squirmed slightly in her seat at the brand new mixture of pleasantness and discomfort and whined quietly with unadulterated desire.

"Forgive me, I'm not sure what came over me." Raine moaned, her pussy throbbing faster and harder.

"I know. You want me to fuck you." Nova dropped her voice and her eyelids to half mast. Raine gasped as she felt Novas hand creep up her dress under the table. "You've wanted me to fuck you since the very first moment you saw me. I wanna hear you say it."

Novas thumb was now pressing down on Raines button from over her panties and moving in slow, torturing circles. Raine couldn't control the way her eyes fluttered shut and her soft moans escaped her lips.

"Nova." Raine gasped out.

"Say it." Nova demanded more firmly, pressing even harder.

"Nova!" Raine screamed, suddenly once again aware that they were in public. Raine clasped her hands over her mouth and looked around to make sure nobody overheard her screams of pleasure. Luckily the music in the background and the football game on the big screen were enough to drown her out. Meanwhile, Nova was full-on laughing.

"You're so wet." She smirked.

"You did that on purpose." Embarrassed, Raine brought her drink closer to herself and hovered over it, taking the skinny black straw into her mouth and sucking until she hit rock bottom.

"Why, of course I did, darling. I wanted to hear you scream my name." Nova sat back into her chair, legs crossed, and she watched Raine squirm as she sipped on her drink.

Wishing, oh so desperately, that it were Raine she was sipping on instead.

#lgbtq #lucifer morningstar #smut #wlw smut #wlw #wlw love #lgbtq community #fanfic #the sandman #fanfiction #fantasy #gwendoline christie #gwen #gwen christie

[happyk44]

Percy watching Nico and Annabeth grind up on each other in a dark club. Rachel wanted to go out for her 21st - get drunk, have some fun, push the limits of what it means to be a forever-virgin Oracle. Piper and Leo are there. Jason hates crowded spaces and loud noises, so he didn't come, but he send her fifty dollars for her first few legal drinks on him.

Percy gets it. He doesn't like crowded spaces either. It feels too... Containing. Grinds on his senses. He's not a good dancer either, and the music is deafening. He can feel it in his blood.

But Annabeth's enjoying herself so he's happy. She pulled Nico onto the dance floor with him. It's almost amusing. In between the writhing mass of bodies, Nico looks confused, trying to dance the way he grew up, but quickly realizing that 40's jazz and hard club music don't really lend themselves the same moves.

Still, he picks it up easily, copying the swaying hips and bumping bodies of the people around him. Distantly Percy remembers Nico telling him his mom was a ballet dancer. He and Bianca would practice alongside her when they were little. Percy wonders what she would think of her son now, ignoring pretty turns on pointed toes for slow sexual body rolls.

Based on what Percy knows about her, he thinks she'd be amused.

Annabeth helps guide Nico away from the more touchy people. She glares with stern eyes that has the cowering off, and becomes his primary partner. She draws his hips against hers. They twist and turn in unison, sliding up and down one another to the beat of the pounding music.

Percy sips a watery beer and watches with eager eyes. Leo and Rachel are dancing nearby - less sensual than the other two, more wild and fun, creating a wide berth around them by people who don't want to get knocked out by flailing hands and feet.

Piper siddles up to Percy's side with a fancy pink cocktail. She's got her eyes on her enthusiastic best friend and his equally enthused dance partner, but slowly draws her attention to Percy's main focus of the evening. Her shoulders draw up. Her eyes flicker to his face, concerned for a space moment, then relaxes.

Whatever she was searching for, she doesn't find.

"They look good," she calls out over the screaming sound.

"Yeah," Percy murmurs. A hunger burns in his stomach.

He sips at his beer again, never looking away from the two dancing in front of him. Nico's got his ass against Annabeth's crotch, her hands on his hips. One of his hands tangles in her curls. She pulls her head down to ear, to his throat.

Piper's brows furrow. "Huh," she says, just slightly audible as the music quiets just before another bass drop that Annabeth punctuates with a forceful thrust of her hips.

Undeterred, Nico grinds back.

"Um." Piper cocks her head. "Are you-" She stops. Restarts. "Nico looks like he's having a lot of fun, huh?"

"Yeah," Percy agrees. Nico turns into Annabeth's grip, pulling her in close like a promise. She's got a couple inches on him, but the manic grin splits across his face makes him seem bigger than he is. "He does."

Annabeth laughs at something he says, and slides her hands into the back pocket of his jeans. She yanks him in close. They're staring at each other like they're the only people in the room.

Piper chews her bottom lip. "Is- Did-" She stares at her cocktail for a moment, then shakes her head. "It's nice that they're such good friends!"

No response pulls from Percy's throat.

Piper deflates a bit.

It's kind of cruel, he gets it, but it's not any of her business and he doesn't feel like explaining anything right now. He just licks his lips and drinks his beer, trying not to explode when Nico pulls his hands off Annabeth's waist and drags her into the wettest kiss Percy has seen from the two of them so far.

Piper squeaks. "Oh!"

Nico tilts his head back as Annabeth mouths down his throat. One of hands teases at the edge of his pants, thumb slipping past the fabric. His eyes are closed.

They're still fucking grinding on each other.

Percy swallows thickly and chugs back the rest of his beer. "I think we're gonna head out," he says, still not paying Piper much mind.

"Oh- okay. Uh." Piper slides back at bit as Percy turns to drop his empty glass against the bar counter. Her eyes twist for a half a second, ruminating, but before Percy can dive into the dance floor and drag the other two off it, she finally stops pussyfooting around. "I thought Nico was gay!"

"He is!" Percy says, glancing back at two of his favourite people in the world.

She tilts her head back. Frustration is drawn up in her shoulders and lips. "Then why..."

"Sometimes things just happen," Percy says. He bumps her shoulder with his fist. Then he starts walking off to the crowd. "Have fun! Don't let anyone spike your drinks!"

He can't hear her over the music and the crowd anymore, but she raises her glass in a faux goodbye, and he turns fully into the crowd. One of Nico's obsidian eyes crack open as he nears. He grins when Percy presses up into them both.

"We're leaving!" Percy shouts.

Annabeth withdraws her mouth from where it's leaving a trail of hickeys across Nico's throat. "We are?"

Percy grabs both of them by the arms. "Yeah!" He tugs them towards the door, grinning wild. "We are!"

Nico laughs, but tucks himself into Percy's side and lets himself be dragged off. Annabeth rolls her eyes but follows diligently, pausing once to wish Rachel a happy birthday, before she heads out the door to the two boys waiting for her with open arms.

#nico obvi has a fake id #percicobeth #nico di angelo #percy jackson #annabeth chase #piper mclean #happy talks pjo #my writing #my fanfic