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#the twins really need to talk at one point
morgana-larkin · 3 days
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And here we are part 3 of ‘Mine’! I may or may not due a part 4, it totally depends. I was originally going to go with Luca but changed it to Nico. I was actually going to be named Nico if I was a boy and was happy to find out it’s an Italian name. Anyway, not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!
On another note: my wifi came back and I’ll be able to add this and the one I posted last night to the masterlist. Keep sending prompts for Melissa and Chessy, and I haven’t received any for Marilyn Thornhill yet. I do have an idea for Marilyn but it’s more of a series.
Italian translations:
Non ho voglia di mangiare cibo Italiano, per l’amor del cielo - Not in the mood for any Italian food, for fuck sake
Ti amo - I love you
Mine - Part 3
Warnings: sweet and soft Mel, swearing (in both English and Italian)
Words: 3.2k
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You and Melissa both stare at the doctor at your ultrasound appointment, you’re 10 weeks pregnant at this point.
“I’m pregnant with what?” You say after a few seconds.
“Twins. You’re pregnant with twins.” She tells you and points to the ultrasound picture. “See there’s one and…there’s the other.” She points out and you both see it.
“There’s 2 little Tesoro’s in there?” Melissa says and the doctor looks at you.
“She’s asking if there’s really 2 babies in me.” You tell her.
“Yes, there’s 2 of them in there.” The doctor says.
You both walk out of the room and Melissa engulfs you in a hug. “Woah!” You say, surprised. She pulls back and has the biggest smile on her you’ve ever seen.
“Omg Amore! We’re gonna have twins!” She exclaims and kneels down and hugs your stomach. You see a couple look at you guys and they’re smiling at Melissa’s excitement.
“She’s really excited.” You tell them.
“Ya, that’s really obvious. Congratulations with the twins.” The woman says.
“Thank you.” You tell them and Melissa stands up.
“Omg I can’t wait to tell everyone!” Melissa says and bounces.
“Ok before we do anything, we have to pick Amelia up from daycare as it’s 4:15 and they close at 5.” You tell her and she grins.
“Omg Amelia, how are we gonna tell her she’s gonna be a big sister?” Melissa says and you laugh.
“Mel, honey, she’s 20 months old. I don’t think she’ll understand yet. She’s more focused on walking and getting into everything around the house right now.” You tell her and Melissa smiles. “Come on, let’s go pick the little terror up.” You tell her and Melissa practically skips out of the clinic
You get home after picking Amelia up and Melissa is still basically on cloud 9. You FaceTime Barb and she picks up on the second ring.
“Hey y/n! How are you sweetheart?” Barb says
“I’m good but Melissa is a little too excited since-“ you get cut off from the redhead herself.
“OMG BARB WE’RE GONNA HAVE TWINS!” She shouts and you have to pull back as it was right in your ear.
“Honey, no need to shout in my ear.” You tell her and she apologises then hugs your stomach again.
“Omg twins! Congrats you two!” Barb says and Gerald heard.
“Congratulations you two! We should celebrate this weekend.” He tells everyone and you all agree. Barb and Melissa talk for a little bit while you feed Amelia some dinner. Melissa has taken a particular interest in feeding Amelia as she has enough teeth now to have spaghetti. Although the first time she fed it to Amelia, she called it ‘the Italian test’, and Amelia loved it and Mel said she passed.
The next day, Melissa pretty much skips in the break room and she spins you around slowly. Everyone looks at you and smiles.
“What’s gotten you so happy?” Janine questions and Melissa looks at you, asking to share the news and you nod.
“We’re having twins!” She exclaims and everyone’s jaw drops. They all come up to you both and give you hugs with a congratulations. You then feel sick and run out to the bathroom, Melissa runs after you. You make it to the bathroom just in time for you to throw up and Melissa holds your hair up.
After a couple minutes you exit the stale and go to wash your hands. “This is the part of the pregnancy I don’t miss.” You tell her and she giggles.
“Well since you have two little critics in you, I packed an extra breakfast for you since you’re eating for 3 now.” She tells you and you perk up at the mention of more food.
Once you get to the break room she takes out the frittata she made you that you loved during your pregnancy with Amelia and hands it to you. You pretty much inhale it and Melissa is looking at you with heart eyes the entire time. Everyone sees it and they smile. Melissa’s tough bravado is only down for you and they love to see those little snippets of ‘Soft Mel’ they like to call it. To which Melissa rolled her eyes and glared at them when she found out.
“U know I still like the name Caterina.” You tell her and she smiles at you.
“Ya?”
“Ya, I think it’s a beautiful name.” You say and she kisses your cheek.
The both of you end up telling Amelia that you have 2 babies in your tummy after school. While Melissa was cooking dinner you put Amelia to sit on the kitchen counter in the middle and told her.
“Amelia, you’re going to be a big sister! I have two little babies in here.” You told her and put your hand on your stomach. And as you expected, she didn’t understand. “Told you.” You said to Melissa and she just smiled and went back to cooking.
Melissa keeps giving you more food than usual since you got little ones in you who also need to eat. And because of your morning sickness, she always packs an extra breakfast for you to keep your strength up. She always does little things for you and you appreciate it every time.
Your morning sickness does stop when you were about 4 months pregnant and she still keeps bringing you an extra breakfast in case you were hungry. Then the cravings start and Melissa throws a fit when you told her that you’re not in the mood for any Italian food. She starts swearing and ranting in Italian.
“Non ho voglia di mangiare cibo Italiano, per l’amor del cielo!” She rants while pacing around the living room. “What are you in the mood for then?” She says and crosses her arms. You think about it.
“Pea soup.” You state proudly with a nod and Melissa rolls her eyes.
“If I didn’t love you so much then I would just give you the store bought one.” She says and goes in the kitchen to make the soup.
“Ti amo!” You tell her as she walks in the kitchen.
“Ya ya.” She says with a smile.
You pick Amelia up then put her in her high chair to feed her dinner.
At dinner time, while you nearly inhale the soup, Melissa has a conversation with you that’s needed.
“We should move.” She starts and you look at her.
“What?” You say confused.
“We should move before the twins are born.” She tells you and you look at her confused. “This house only has 3 rooms, not 4.” She states and you finally understand what she’s telling you.
“Mel, we don’t have to do it before their born. We have like 3 years before they’ll start needing their own rooms. Or if they’re two boys or two girls then they can share. Or if one of each then the girl can share with Amelia.” You tell her.
“Face it y/n, our little household is growing and we need more room.”
“Are you ready for that? I know you love this place.” You tell her.
“I am. This place served its purpose and you’re right I do love it and I won’t forget it.” She tells you with a smile.
“Ok, if you’re certain then we can start looking and move when we find the perfect one.” You tell her and she nods.
A month later you have an ultrasound appointment.
“I want to know the genders of the babies.” Melissa tells you. “Do you want to know?” She asks.
“I do actually.” You say and she smiles.
At your appointment, the doctor squirts the gel on and brings up the video of the babies.
“Alright there they are.” The doctor says and she then looks at both of you. “Want to know the genders?” And you both nod. She looks for about a minute before she speaks. “Alright looks like one is a little camera shy but I found the genders. Looks like one’s a girl and the other a boy.” She states and Melissa lets a few tears slip and smiles.
“I’m gonna have another daughter and a son.” She says happily.
“That boy is gonna feel so out numbered.” You say and she laughs.
“There’s some boy cousins he can hang out with.” She tells you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
When you get home, you hang the ultrasound picture on the fridge next to a picture of Amelia.
“So since we have a couple hours, why don’t we go upstairs and have a little us time?” Melissa says with a wiggle of her eyebrows and you laugh. It’s been about 3 weeks since you two had sex. While your sex drive skyrocketed with Amelia, it seems this time around it did the opposite. This time it’s Melissa who’s been using the vibrator when needed.
“Ya, I’d love too.” You tell her and she grabs your hand and pulls you to the bedroom.
*a week later*
“What do you think of this place?” Melissa says and shows you a house listing. You look at the pictures of the house.
“You like the kitchen don’t you?” You say and she giggles.
“I’ll admit that it is one of the attractions. But it’s got 4 rooms, a basement and a big open floor dining and living room.” She tells you.
“Ya it’s nice. We should check it out this weekend.” You tell her and hand her phone back.
“Great! I’ll message them now.” She tells you.
You two have been able to put money aside since you were living together in a place that Melissa was able to afford by herself. And since you’re selling the house when you move, then you’ll have enough to buy a bigger place. You’ve so far seen 5 places and none were speaking to you two. And because of that, when you went to see this new place, it surprised you that you both liked it. You found the place that you’ll call your new home, a place for you, Melissa, Amelia and the twins.
“Melissa!” You call out to her from the living room and she comes to you from upstairs.
“What?”
“I can’t pick up the box.” You tell her with a pout and she laughs.
“Where do you want it?” She says and stands in front of the box.
“On top of that box.” You tell her and point. She picks it up and brings it over to where you want. You’re 6 months pregnant at this point and you’re moving in 3 weeks. You’ve recruited the Abbott crew, and a few family members from both your families to come and help you on the day you move.
“The babies are kicking again.” You say with a hand on your belly and Melissa is immediately by your side and you put her hand where they’re kicking. She already felt them kick but she always loves to feel it when she can.
And just like last time, Melissa is extremely protective when it comes to other people wanting to touch your belly. And you get déjà vu when she pushed Janine’s hand off your belly and says “mine” while hugging you and kisses your forehead.
“Melissa, you should let Janine feel it at least once.” You tell her and she huffs.
“Fine. But just this once.” She says and Janine finally feels your stomach and one of the babies kick and she gasps. Melissa is glaring the entire time.
Amelia sees your belly grow and is a little confused as to why. She’s turning 2 in 4 weeks, but she’s still a little young to understand.
Melissa has been doing some of the same things she did for you as last time. Which is helping you up the stairs, putting a shower seat in the tub for you to shower with, guiding and holding you through a crowded hallway, and catering to your every craving (whether or not she approves of it).
It’s finally the day to move and you dropped Amelia off at your parents place for them to watch her.
“Don’t spoil her too much.” You tell them.
“You know we can’t promise that.” Your mom tells you and you giggle while you go back to the house to help pack up the loading truck. Turns out you do almost nothing, per Melissa’s instructions, and you end up telling people what to do instead. 3 hours later and the truck is packed up and house is cleaned for the new people that bought the place.
You and Melissa stand in the empty living room and look around one last time. Melissa hugs you from behind and puts her head on your shoulder.
“You ready?” She asks and you sigh.
“I think so.” You say. “Did you say a final goodbye to the kitchen yet?” You ask her, half joking half serious.
“Yep. It’s time to start a new chapter.” She tells you and kisses your head. You lean into her touch for a few seconds before you both decide to leave to the new place with everyone.
You get there and like before, Melissa instructs you to just tell people where to put what where. “I’m pregnant, not physically disabled.” You tell her annoyed and she glares at you before you cave and instruct people.
A few hours later and the kitchen and bathrooms are unpacked and a few things you’ll need until you can unpack more boxes. You unpack most of Amelia’s room and decorate it how she likes it. You get help to unpack the nursery which will be one of their rooms in a couple years.
2 weeks after and you’re celebrating Amelia’s second birthday. Most of the cake surprisingly ends up in her mouth instead of on her face. She gets a bunch of new toys and starts playing with all of them immediately.
You go on maternity leave when you’re 33 weeks pregnant and you end up using the days to unpack boxes and you end up finishing in 2 weeks.
“Momma.” Amelia says and Melissa turns to her.
“What’s up my little Tesoro?”
“Mommy tod mwe to come get you. Saying wabour.” Amelia tells her and Melissa immediately picks Amelia up and rushes to you.
“Are you in Labour?” She asks you from where you were on the couch and you’re holding your stomach and squeezing the arm of the couch.
“Ya, I thought it wasn’t the real thing at first, then my water broke.” You tell her and Melissa rushes to get your bag and her and Amelia’s bag to bring to the hospital for when the day arrives. She ushers you in the car and puts Amelia in her car seat and brings you to the hospital while you call Melissa’s sister, yours and Melissa’s parents, as well as the Abbott crew.
“I can’t believe you’re in labour, you’re only 35 weeks.” Melissa exclaims during the drive.
“They told us that most of the time with twins, they’re born early. Besides, I gave birth to Amelia when I was 37 weeks.” You say and a contraction hits and Melissa holds her hand out for you to squeeze.
You arrive at the hospital and Melissa gets Amelia out and helps you walk out and into the hospital. Melissa’s parents were there and they took Amelia while you and Melissa gets ushered into a room and prepped for labour. Barb arrives a few minutes after and this time your mom is able to be here as she worked last time and couldn’t get out of it. You sit on the table, as it’s easier to push that way instead of laying down, and you squeeze Melissa’s hand when a contraction hits.
“For fuck sakes.” You grit through your teeth and Melissa prepares to get yelled and cursed at again, all in the name of love she thinks.
Melissa starts humming a tune she knows soothes you when a nasty one hits and you lean into her.
“Ok, are you ready to push? You’re fully dilated.” The doctor tells you, an hour after you arrive.
“Don’t think I have much of a choice.” You say and Melissa laughs.
You start pushing and Melissa is saying praises to you the entire time.
“Oh shut up Melissa! Why don’t you try pushing!” You yell and she just ignores you and keeps doing the same thing. You have a death grip on her left hand and she has the other one rubbing your back.
“Ok, you’re doing great, push again.” The doctor says and you do. “I see a head.” She says.
“Mom! It hurts!” You complain while your mom is on the other side of you, holding her hand.
“I know honey, but you’re doing great and you’ll have 2 little trouble makers after this.” She tells you and you chuckle.
You push again and your second child is born. “It’s a boy!” The doctor says and Melissa cuts the cord. She hands the baby to a nurse and gets ready to help with the second one. “Ready for the other one?” She asks you and you groan.
“For fuck sakes!” You say and Melissa continues rubbing your back and she kisses your forehead.
“I know it’s a lot of work baby but look at what we get when it’s over.” Melissa tells you and points at where your son is.
You start pushing again and you end up cursing at Melissa to which she encourages you to keep doing it every time.
“Very good Amore! Don’t worry I still love you. Keep yelling at me.” She tells you.
And 6 minutes later your second daughter is born and Melissa cuts the cord again. The nurses give you both at the same time to do skin to skin contact for a few minutes until you hand your son over to Melissa to hold and you move your daughter to hold her in your arms. Your mom takes a picture of both of you with the twins.
“What names are you thinking of?” You ask Melissa.
“I’m happy with Caterina if you are.” She tells you and you smile and nod.
“Caterina Lisa Schemmenti.” You say and look at your newborn daughter.
“What do you think of Nico Schemmenti for this little guy?” She asks you and you nod.
“I love it.” You tell her.
Amelia comes running into the room a few minutes later and gets held up by Kristen Marie to get a good look at her siblings.
“They tiny.” She says and you laugh.
“You were this tiny too, little one.” You tell her and she looks at you shocked. Barb takes a picture of you and Melissa holding a twin each while Amelia is sitting between you both on the bed.
Melissa looks around the room and sees her parents and sister there, your parents are there too, Barb as well, and knowing the rest of the Abbott crew is outside the room. Then she looks at you holding Caterina with Amelia looking at her new sister, while Nico is sleeping in her arms and Melissa thinks she can’t be happier.
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ikamigami · 2 days
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So I rewatched an episode "Is Sun okay?!" and I need to say this..
It's extremely obvious that Sun was lying to Moon and Solar..
And he has a drinking problem..
And he changed the address of the package so it would seem that the delivery service made a mistake..
And when he was asking who is buying so much alcohol weekly.. not monthly but WEEKLY.. he was asking for their opinion..
Sun isn't a good liar if it comes to lying to Moon..
So obviously when he heard their answer to "who would buy so much alcohol" being "an alcoholic" he started stuttering and his speach sounded more like a blabbering..
It's also worth pointing out that Sun asked Moon to specify what he meant by how many bottles he already drunk.. was he talking about that day or in general?
But don't you find it a little bit suspicious..?
Why did Sun ask Moon to specify his question?
Normally everyone would answer this question immediately.. so why Sun asked to specify the question? Why Sun said "you mean today.."?
If you were drinking a bottle of alcohol a day.. wouldn't you say that I only drank half of a bottle today or something like that..
So why Sun wanted to know if Moon meant that day?
I think that if we look at how much Sun's repeating lines such as "look how this bottle is so small" or "this is like a Caprisun to me" and the way he was saying it as if he was trying to convince Moon and Solar and maybe even himself that he doesn't drink much we can make a very good assumption that Sun has a drinking problem..
And yes, I fully believe that Sun was lying to Earth as well as I believe that he's drinking in secret and that he's most probably hiding his alcoholic beverages in other drinks.. for example tea..
And he still drunk that beer in that sushi restaurant..
I'm honestly disheartened by how both Solar and Earth literally just straight up ignored Moon's concerns regarding Sun's well-being..
I wouldn't be surprised (and I really hope tbh) if Moon was angry at Earth.. or maybe even at Solar (who knows when Eclipse will bring him back or how exactly it'll happen I'm just talking hypothetically) if something bad will happen to Sun because he'll do something reckless because of his problem with alcohol..
Moon have every right to be upset that everyone ignored his concerns regarding Sun who is his twin and whom he knows the most..
Sorry to Earth and Solar but they don't know Sun that much.. with how much Sun is hiding from Earth or just lying to her and with the fact that Solar never hang out with Sun just the two of them.. they just simply don't know Sun..
Even if Sun is hiding things from Moon and lie to him.. Moon still knows him better because of their bond - the special bond they share.. and also because Moon is spending the most time with Sun and also they live together in one house.. The rest isn't there with them..
And Moon is paying attention to Sun quite a lot (unlike Old Moon) cause he not only catch Sun on drinking but also he realized that Sun isn't socializing as much anymore and he even saw that Sun has self-destructive tendencies.. He said that he fully realized that when he was talking to Old Moon which means that he saw that but couldn't grasp it fully until the talk with Old Moon..
Moon was probably thinking about it in back of his head since Sun lied to him about the whole star conduit thing.. and later after the talk with Dark Sun.. Moon's fear only strengthened.. "it scares me".. Sun's self-destructive tendencies scare Moon..
And yet no one listens to Moon's very valid concerns..
And that's why I think that Sun will do something reckless and Moon will be angry that others just carelessly dismissed his concerns..
Or what if Sun died? It would be a lot worse.. Moon would be beyond angry that no one listened to him..
I don't know what Davis and EC will exactly do but I'm sure that big drama is awaiting us in the future.. and I can't wait to see it..
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docholligay · 2 days
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Really I think the most stupid grim dark bullshit of show Red Wedding vs book Red Wedding is no one in the show universe CARED. In the books it was a massive thing, with the perpetrators immediately losing allies and finding themselves beset from all sides because it was considered so horrible in universe. In the show it’s just considered a brilliant tactic with no negative representations. Not even the Northerners who had their families slaughtered care.
Yeah, the show is so wrong on so many levels. And, there are plenty of things to complain about in the books, so I'm not sure why the showrunners thought there was ever a need to make it worse.
I actually ragequit the show very very very early on, when they had Drogo rape Dany on their wedding night. I said to myself, "Holligay, these motherfuckers fundamentally misunderstand these books. Let's don't continue." It's such a fundamental thing! The only reason Dany feels like she can access any power at all is that, for the first time in her FUCKING LIFE, someone listens when she says no. It is such an amazing and wold-shaking moment for her. And it immediately lets us know that for all the things we might have thought about the Dothraki, they are more 'civilized' than the culture she came from. I mean it's all very 90s hamfisted shit, but whatever, that's still more than some fantasy that is still enjoyed today.
And yes! The Red Wedding in the books is A) not all that shocking, and B) is an IMMEDIATE PROBLEM for the Lannisters. The whole point being made with them is that there IS a line, even in this world, and they repeatedly cross it, which the showrunners think is very sexy and cool of them in a way that is fun when I'm talking to a fellow fan but annoying when it's people helming a huge budget adaptation of a series they don't seem to fundamentally like or understand.
Like having Jaime rape Cersei in the cavern? HAVING TWINS FUCKING NEXT TO THE CORPSE OF THEIR DEAD SON WAS NOT FUCKED UP ENOUGH FOR YOU ARE YOU KIDDING MEEEEEEEE?
I loved the series when I was in junior high, it was exactly what I was looking for when I was falling out of my affections for fantasy. I even read the fourth book despite not really being a fantasy reader by that point. I maintain that if Martin had finished the series in a timely fashion he would be remembered as having written a fantastic and influential series but now everything is fucked up by the TV show and I do not in any way blame martin for taking the money and kicking back because BITCH SO WOULD I but damn.
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cvntyworld · 3 days
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Can you do until dawn characters x reader dating headcanons like what they’re like when they’re jealous (thank you!!)
green eyed monster ( the until dawn gang )
summary: until dawn characters and what they are like when they're jealous while dating you.
contents: usual until dawn shenanigans, jealousy, angst if you squint, mild language, fluff, insecurities, the twins are not included as there isn't much content abt them, ect...
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SAM GIDDINGS
The greenest flag ever, so when she does tend to get jealous, which is rare, she usually smiles through it so you don't think anything is wrong.
She often puts others above herself so she tries to get rid of any feelings of jealousy rather quickly because it doesn't feel right to be jealous and she often feels as if she's being stupid.
If her jealousy tends to build up, she'll be mature and tell you about how she's feeling because that's much easier than trying to hide it.
She's rarely jealous because of her pacifist ways and is more often to work through those feelings with you as your girlfriend rather than let them simmer.
JOSH WASHINGTON
He'll most definitely hide his jealousy behind jokes or a change in subject because he definitely does not like it when talking about his feelings.
Lets his insecurities about your relationship simmer in his head until he's firing back as a default, trying to get you to be the jealous one for once but it never worked in his favour.
Building a wall to hide how vulnerable he feels about it and trying to lock you out of his mind, until he gives in to your persistence and tells you what's wrong.
Feels as if it makes him weak to feel jealous and needs assurance that jealousy isn't a weakness, it just shows how much he cares despite his doubts.
EMILY DAVIS
When this girl gets jealous she lets it be known, loud & clear, not just to you but to everyone. This girl is not a pushover so she'll let it be known how she feels about her jealousy, even if it isn't in the most kind way, girl is very blunt and straight to the point.
While she may act confident about it, it's really just an immature front to hide how she truly feels, she'd been betrayed in the past before by her bestie and her ex so she's pretty careful about who she grows close to and doesn't want to be hurt again.
Emily often tries to deflect the situation, changing the subject or going on a shopping spree and buying a lot of expensive things in hopes to win you over, but she's always insecure you'll grow tired of her.
What she doesn't know is that you don't need to have expensive clothes given to you as presents or have her acting a lot nicer than usual out of fear she'll lose you, you love her just the way she is.
MATT TAYLOR
The biggest sweetheart who tends to go into a rather sour mood when he's jealous, he'll close off and won't be his usual chatty self.
His jealousy usually doesn't last long but he does try & communicate how he's feeling even when it isn't in the best ways sometimes, he'll build up courage and try to put his feelings into words but then backtracks.
Usually all he needs is a little assurance and he's back to being his usual happy self, Matt doesn't really hold grudges or resentment, he's way too kind-hearted for that type of behaviour.
What makes him even happier is when he sees you at one of his football games, cheering him on with a big smile and his mind is at rest with his doubts.
ASHLEY BROWN
When this girl is jealous, she'll often feel embarrassed about being jealous to begin with. She usually looks at the big picture of things but when it comes to you her mindset is thrown out the window.
Usually gets rather sensitive and teary when it comes to her jealousy, which also drives a mean streak that's reared its ugly head a few times.
Often overreacts to her jealousy and ends up bursting out how she's truly feeling which ends in you calming her down. After a conversation with you she feels her relationship is more secure.
To make her day better, you'll probably buy her some books or plan a day out together to cheer her up and she greatly appreciates it and you.
CHRIS HARTLEY
Often feels embarrassed to be jealous and starts to doubt your relationship, thinking that you might just be with him out of pity.
Starts to act rather awkward around you to hide the fact he's jealous but it instead makes it more obvious that he is.
Tries to dismiss how he's feeling when you ask him if he's jealous and immediately caves and tells you how he's feeling and why he's feeling this way.
Apologizes for his feelings of jealousy and you have to tell him he's got nothing to be sorry for and that you're happy to be with him and that nobody else even came close to him.
JESSICA RILEY
Her insecurities make her doubt your relationship and question if she's actually important to you, often feels sad about her jealousy and shields herself with a little argument or a dumb facade.
While she appears confident, she's conflicted inside as she wants to tell you how she's feeling but is worried it will set back your relationship.
Eventually, you know something is up and ask her to tell you what's bothering her and she does after a few nudges to explain what's wrong. When she does, she's worried you'll laugh or reject her but all you do is take her hand and smile and assure her.
Feels more secure and confident in your relationship and knows she can come to you about any worries if she has them and knows that she can trust you with her feelings.
MIKE MUNROE
He isn't the type to get jealous but when he does, he can start to have a bit of a pissy attitude and not just towards you but to everyone.
Usually, he brushes off any jealousy by being rather suggestive towards you but it doesn't always work in his favour, usually you'll leave him hanging until he's forced to tell you what's wrong.
You always try to reassure him he's got nothing to be jealous of but he'll shrug it off and dismiss it, he's not one to talk about his feelings.
He usually gets over his jealousy on his own and is an immediate grinning bastard again, but he knows that you'll listen to his worries whenever he decides to get in touch with his feelings and talk to you.
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come-down-that-tree · 2 years
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Prologue Previous
Come down that tree! (An aftermare story)
Chapter 8: Hindi ka pangit mahal kong kaibigan!
Something was tingling his nose. Nightmare groaned before cracking open an eye-socket and falling nose to nose with his twin's face, far too close to his. He somehow looked really smug and was holding a blade of grass, he probably used that to bother his nose and that's what woke him up.
"What…"
Dream instantly shushed him, smile going wide and body almost vibrating from barely contained energy. What was happening? The dark twin tried to remember the last time he was greeted from sleep in such a strange way. His fuzzy mind summoned some distant memory about a "really cute squirrel who somehow fell asleep on his lap and that should not be awakened" and he glanced to his lap. There was resting the snoozing head of their “guest”. Gears turned slowly inside his mind and due to an inability to properly compute any information so early in the morning, Nightmare just huffed and looked back at his brother as if everything was normal.
“You think you can get us something good for breakfast ‘m kinda hungry?”
Dream just nodded and went his merry way to the village but he still saw the shine in the goldenish eyes. That little-
He will let this slide because the other guardian finally looked happy again and maybe also because he was beyond exhausted. Maybe. He didn’t even remember falling asleep last night.
Now about his lap’s situation… Should he move him?
He didn’t move him.
What would be the point? All he risked was to wake the other up. When he was probably just as tired as him. What if he somehow woke up half panicked again? Would he be able to be left unharmed this time? There was no cute animal on his lap.
A menacing ticking bomb at best.
The future exploding engine stirred a bit and Nightmare tensed.
Do not move.
May the train of panic go back to its station without his passenger.
“I GOT DONUTS!”
Nightmare silently cursed his twin and surveyed the result of the shout with a wary eye. The sleeper uncurved from his asleep posture and gazed upon the surroundings.
Geno didn’t even seem to react upon realizing his position and just sat up against the tree, all while rubbing away the tiredness of his face.
Dream sat in front of them and started to share the various pastries stored in a basket he brought back from down the hill without a care in the world.
They ate together, ignoring for a blissful moment all the turmoil from the last days. Nightmare cut half of his sugary treat to nimble on it, pondering over his feelings over the whole situation. He could see on one side his brother eating far too quickly as usual -he was going to choke anytime soon now- and on the other side Geno treated the food as if it was something incredibly precious… Was he eating enough? Spirit guardians didn’t need that much food to go on. Honestly, a sunny day was almost as filling as a big meal and they only ate sometimes as a treat.
The monsters in his books seemed to eat at least once a day, unless they were on some sort of adventure. He eyed up and down their guest. Hard to say when a skeleton was malnourished. But his bones’ dull color and… “melted” eye socket didn’t offer him the image of a healthy individual…
A part of him refused to even worry about the one who scared and endangered him so much recently. How dared he call him soulless… It hurted. A lot. It wasn’t the first time he had been accused of such a thing and he would have lashed out -or fled- if not for the sad sight he had had before him. Geno had all but crashed down, unresponsive to the outer world. Memories of weeping down in a dark alley after a literal breakdown had made him do what he’d wish someone had done to him then. Get him back to reality, maybe a bit harshly, and ensure he calmed down fully before anything. His anger had dimmed along the ordeal.
It had disappeared completely when the other went back on his words.
Still, he was still waiting for a genuine apology. But confronting the other about that didn’t sit well with him. He will wait. He was sure now. Geno was strange, not mean.
A shiver on his neck made his head turn around. He caught Dream staring at him with a frown, some donut crumbs lingering around his mouth. His brother almost instantly smiled at him brightly as if the frown had been nothing more than a hallucination upon noticing him watching. Uh? Was something worrying him? Maybe a conversation will be needed later… He didn’t like the face he saw and liked even less what it could mean.
Later.
When he’ll no longer be so exhausted from all this touchy feelings stuff. Urg.
He’ll ignore it for today, just today.
Ignorance was bliss and he sure was yearning for some…
It was not as blissful as he'd hoped. Not for him. They stayed in an awkward silence for days!!!
Dream seemed to spend an awful long time in the village. Geno kept silent and Nightmare didn't know what to say.
Awkward. Silence.
The time suddenly felt so long. He was used to silence but not that kind. A heavy one. He tried his best to distract himself with books. Why couldn't he focus properly on the stories? He already read that line three times and that was one of his favorite books he specially went to pick up at the library -he also finally apologized for the wet book, thankfully the old librarian was one of the few to not dislike too much so his precious book's supply hadn't been cut off- in the vain hope it could distract him.
But no. He kept thinking about the other resting in the grass not far.
It was the 4th time he read that sentence.
"What are you readin' ?"
Geno was all of the sudden right next to him, glancing at the words he was trying to understand. The surprise made Nightmare let go of the book that hit the grass with a flap. The monster calmly picked it up and handed it to him. The guardian took it with much more precaution than needed and secured it against his chest before even thinking about answering.
“It’s “La nuit des enfants rois” by Bernard Lenteric…”
“Oh? I don’t know that one, what’s it about?”
He turned fully towards Geno and cocked his head on the side, wondering if the other genuinely wanted to hear about the book’s plot or was just… What?
“Come on, don’t be shelf-ish! Share with the class!”
“If you insist… Wait a second.”
The realization of the attempt at a book pun made him wheeze. It was bad! Truly! But he did not expect it and now he just. Couldn’t. Stop. Laughing! They ended up talking for a while about this book, then other books, then weird scientific experiments about waffles… Geno tried to pun his way through the whole conversation, talking faster and louder with each one succeeding in making the guardian react.
It had been… fun.
He glanced at Geno who was trying to tell a story with the more fish puns possible in it. The monster was grinning brightly. He sure was prettier with a smile on.
Geno suddenly dropped the smile and looked at him with a strange shine in his eyes.
"I'm no pretty."
Oh. Oh! He said it aloud. Warmth went up his face as shame flooded his system. Whyyyy!?
His bashful act disappeared as soon as he registered how serious Geno seemed. He stared at the other for a second before saying out loud and clear:
"You're not ugly either."
"No. I am."
"Why are you being so stubborn about it? Can't accept a little compliment, can you?"
At this point, Nightmare was just irked by the discussion and stopped thinking altogether about what he was sputtering about. He would think later about how utterly silly the argument was and maybe swallow a bit in shame once alone. But now what was important was winning the argument.
"Sure, you aren't a beauty princess but going as far as calling yourself ugly is stupid. Why are you doing that?"
“Hypocrite!” was shouting his mind but he pushed the thought away. Now was not the time for that.
Geno sighed and shaked his head. Was the fool going to argue such a dumb fact?
Nightmare squeaked as he watched the monster slowly lift his shirt. Nope. Automatically his hands flew to his eye sockets. Ah! He can’t see anything now. Not good if the need to run arised…
“What are you doing?”
No answer, nothing. Should he try a peek?
His fingers moved slightly to allow himself to see.
His hands dropped.
In front of him, Geno was looking away, a hand holding his shirt up, revealing a sight the negative guardian wasn’t prepared to see. Ever. He tentatively itched closer, not daring to turn his eyes away.
“Does it hurt?”
A shiver runned through the most damaged ribs Nightmare has ever seen.
“No. Not anymore.”, breathed Geno.
The bones looked like something all but gnawed on it right after stabbing it all over. What was strange was the absence of cracks. Almost as if, the missing bits had not been torn away but just decided to stop existing. What could cause such “wounds”?
“How did you…?”
“I rather not talk about it.”
And with these words, the fabric flopped down, cutting short the fragile conversation. They fall back into silence.
But with the thoughts raging through his mind, Nightmare didn’t feel really “quiet”.
He didn’t know what to say so he said nothing and went to sit a bit further against a tree, cracking open his book. Not once did he cross Geno’s eyes during the process.
It was the 5th time he read this sentence.
End of chapter 8!
Go to chapter 9?
------------------------------------------------------------
@dragon-tamer-1 @shinechermont @zu-is-here
Dreamtale, Dream and Nightmare belong to @/jokublog
Geno to @/loverofpiggies
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randomnameless · 4 months
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A Minor dispute.
Put it behind you. Deal with it.
No, this isn't related to devoted fans and their discourse lol (even if i had to take a jab at them with the title lol)
Ike: I have to ask, Sephiran. What are you after? What’s this all about? Sephiran: Why do you wish to know? You would achieve nothing by learning my reasons. You would help no one. I lost faith in lesser beings, and desire an end to them. That’s all. Ike: So why did you save me on that day? Sephiran: May I ask you a favor, Ike? Tell me how you feel about it now. Can you bear recalling those horrific memories? Ike: Yes… I’m fine, now. But I suppose at the time I wouldn’t have been able to take it. Sephiran: All beings endure tragedies for as long as they continue to live. It has always been the case that suffering is unavoidable. And this grim reality plays out over and over, in every country, under every ruler… As long as there are beings who feel, they will feel pain. Ike: So what? We should all just give in and die? Put it behind you. Deal with it. Sephiran: Do not make light of this… Ike: I’m not. Sephiran, I’m extremely grateful that you once helped me through a terrible time. But we have to accept that occasionally we all have to deal with hard times. I’ve had pain, I’ve had suffering, and I have gotten up and moved on. I don’t try to forget what happened that day. I just accept it… And neither that or anything else will ever stop me. Sephiran: You are a strong man, Ike, son of Gawain. But not everyone is as strong as you…
This scene is unlocked if you've seen Ike's FB.
Of course, Ike here doesn't know the fuck he is talking about, as he later expresses by wondering why Sephiran is suddenly called Lehran (maybe if the game left Miccy/Yune talk to him before the start of the map, instead of letting him do all the convo it would have been different?).
So, in a way, it isn't as callous as Ike telling Lehran to put the genocide of his people "behind him" or to "deal with it", because he doesn't know what Sephiran is talking about.
But in a way, I have the feeling if Claude or Petra told Dedue to "put the massacre of his family" behind him or to "deal with it", Claude or Petra would have received a certain amount of shit, even if, when they would have said those, they wouldn't have known what the fuck Dedue went through.
Anyways, Ike later learns what, or who, Sephiran is, and talks to him. Maybe he will apologise for his callous words, spoken when he didn't realise what he was talking about ?
Ike: Sephiran... I mean, Lehran... Lehran: I can't apologize enough. I was so terribly mistaken, and now there's nothing I can do to help. Ike: Don't worry. Lehran: What? Ike: Wanting to do something that matters is enough. Sometimes, how you feel is more important than how you act. Lehran: Ike I... there's no one that I think more highly of... Ike: No time for compliments. We still have work to do here. Lehran: Yes... yes we do.
Lehran apologises for having wanted to destroy the world (and drops Altina in a trashcan because Ike is now the person he thinks the most highly of!) - and in the general scale of things, yes, Sephiran has much to apologise for, so he better start pulling his weight and try to make up for having tried to kill everyone.
But the "your people were genocided? No biggie, deal with it!" is completely ignored - or it is, again, another example of Ike talking shit and the game convoluting himself to make sure he never faces any consequences, even if, in this situation, the consequence would just have been an apology, like the one he gave to, iirc, Mordecai and Lethe after calling him subhumans but not realising calling someone "subhuman" was insulting.
Sure, the line he gives after the fight against Sephiran still holds value :
Ike: If death is what you really want, then I’m not going to let it happen on my watch. I don’t care what you’ve gone through. I don’t care how much you’ve suffered. What you’ve done is unforgivable.
It's not because you suffered, or went through the worst humankind can offer, that you can inflict the same on people!
When Lords like Marth, Seliph, Leif, Roy, Eirika, even Elincia try to understand people and what led them to act as they did - without ever giving excuses or wondering if they could walk with their respective antagonists - Ike here refuses to understand, and only condemns.
Is it because Ike isn't a Lord, so he isn't concerned with some general "making sure this situation never happens again"?
But then, he is the one to say those :
“But, even the dumbest creatures will love their family, their friends and… even love others. They will all have things that they can’t afford to lose.” “We know that we’ve messed up. We’ll do our best to avoid more war and to make peace our highest priority. Ashera, just give us one more chance. All we ask is for one more chance.” “You were like a mother to all of life– Your children still require a mother like you. When you watch over us, we don’t always do things that make you happy and sometimes we even disappoint you. Still, I think we would like you to continue watching over us. How about it?” “We all need to work hard to accept each other. As long as we don’t try and run away from our mistakes, then I’m sure we’ll be able to see each other again one day.”
How can you do you "best" to avoid more wars, if you don't even understand why the current one started, or don't care about the reasons that led the fucker who started this current war to, well, start it?
How can we talk about acceptance if we don't "care" about what the others live through?
So, on top of writing a check his ass can't cash - since he will leave Tellius and not be there to "avoid wars" or make sure people "accept each other" after promising the goddesses "we" will exactly do that - Ike's words here are empty.
-> In a nutshell, Ike reveals with those battle quotes and conversations that he is not ruler/leader material - but we knew that since RD's start since we followed Miccy and Elincia - and more importantly isn't the kind of person asking "why" things happen, they just happen but somehow everything will work out when it will happen again - because the why, or the cause, wasn't identified - and I think it's a perfectly fitting answer for the Tellius Saga and the larger Branded "issue" : we will never know why it happens, it just happens.
(can we say the epilogue, with Ashunera returning, is an ultimate "fuck you" to Ike's empty promises at the end of this chapter, since it starts with another war happening in the background?)
---
Back to that nonsense of a battle convo, I find it really interesting how Ike is basically thanking Sephiran for having wiped his memory when he was a child, to help him "deal" with the fact he witnessed his father stab his mother, because at that time (when he was a kid), he wouldn't have been able to deal with it.
But then, Ike tells Sephiran to "deal with" the tragedies he witnessed and lived through...
After thanking him for sparing him the "deal with it" step- he now asks Sephiran to take - when he was a child.
WTF?
Ike explains how he is thankful, but he ultimately had to "got up" and "move on" from the pain, and accept it. And that's precisely the point, Ike managed to take on that pain, "get up and move on" thanks to Sephiran's own meddling and help - else, by his own admission, he wouldn't have been able to "take it".
But now, he asks Sephiran to take his pain, without any magic amnesia to help, and deal with it?
And while I hate the idea of trauma olympics, grown-up Ike (even in POR) can now deal with the fact his dad killed his mother thanks to Lehran's magic amnesia - but he tells Lehran to deal with and get over - 1) the genocide of his tribe, 2) assassination of his great (etc) granddaughter because she had his blood, 3) the loss of his powers for a crap reason and the knowledge that laguz are bound to "die" if they mingle too much with beorcs as he personally witnessed it, 4) severe depression after realising he is not a laguz anymore but not even a beorc since beorcs will use pitchforks at him even if they regarded him 10 seconds before as sage, and the rest of Tellius' general fuckery? - without magic amnesia or plot hax?
Reyson was very close to pull something similar in FE9 when he tried to erase people in the Forest using "ancient magic", but abandoned the idea when Leanne was found - if PoR!Ike learnt that, would he have told Reyson to "get over" the heron genocide and Naesala's betrayal?
Of course not, because I'm pretty sure Ike knows, before meeting Reyson and even picking Leanne, what happened in Serenes.
And in RD, when he says those words, he doesn't know (but he later will!) that Sephiran is a heron.
Tl;Dr :
Supreme Leader's "minor dispute" is frowned upon by everyone, even if she might genuinely not know about what Nemesis did that made Rhea so enraged, in a doylist reading, Supreme Leader is a character who ignores a genocide to push her own specist agenda.
Doylist reading of that RD scene is, Ike telling Sephiran to man up and deal/get over the genocide of his people - but unlike Supreme Leader, when he comes to learn the truth of Sephiran's despair, he dgaf.
Thankfully, this scene is only triggered if Sephiran survives, so Ike can later explain his behaviour : he doesn't care what kind of suffering Sephiran endured, since nothing justifies what he was trying to do (kill everyone).
Even if the thing he should care, but doesn't want to, is, for part, a genocide.
#character rant#character salt#i mean when y'all saw Ike and FE10 you could have expected that lol#re-reading the Tellius scripts with the same fine toothed comb I used for Fodlan's is maddening#because I remembered Tellius as a saga I generally liked and who had a sort of solid/nice plot#and then it falls apart#especially regarding Ike#he isn't a lord like the other protagonists from the other games in the franchise i have the feeling that's why his writing is so convolute#is FE tellius a story where the player follows Gerik instead of the Renais twins?#But then Gerik gets the killing blow and the general plot importance that should have gone to the twins#Gerik is the one to tell fuck you to Fomortiis when Miccy can't even talk to Yune when she departs#sure i'm the first to make fun of the cheap sad'n'lonely backstories used in modern FE to justify the worst shit#but Serenes massacre was developed in FE9 the nonsensical branded and laguz death is more and more developed in FE10#and we're just supposed to tell him dgaf uwu when we proceed with the plot?#not even one 'i understand what you went through and i'll make sure it won't happen ever again but you really need to pay for your crimes"#stuff?#FFS I just realised#Ike says this to Ashera when she says she wants to erase humanity because they start wars#“we're not perfect yes you have a point but we will do better so don't kill everyone and i'll fight to save everyone”#but Lehran? Fuck him I guess#I made a quick joke some years ago about him and rhea being similar on a surface level#but look at how they're treated by the game lol
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ive been watching this series on netflix called echoes (spoilers next if you care to watch it) i wasnt super into it especially in the beginning bc the dialogue and exposition are pretty clunky and cliché but then this scene happened and i laughed out loud with delight and then was immediately like 'ohh thoschei au'
so this series is about two twin sisters who have made it a habit since childhood of pretending to be each other for long periods of time. it starts when they accidentally push their older sister off a tower and she gets hurt pretty bad. the one sister, leni, is like “you’ll get punished for this gina, but if we pretend to be each other, i can keep you safe” so they switch identities and live as each other for a bit.
they keep switching to get out of trouble throughout their childhood and they also share everything. they get in a fight once bc one of them (i think probably gina) had a secret and leni found out and was pissed. from then on she was like “we’ll keep this shared diary and we can have secrets from each other but not the diary”
they share a boyfriend until the boyfriend has sex with leni and gina feels like she should maybe get her own life independent from her sister. so she goes and gets a boyfriend. leni gets jealous and sets a fire in the church where gina and her boyfriend have sex once. the church burns down and leni does her old trick of “switch identities with me gina, then i can make sure you dont get in trouble for this” and she basically pins the arson on gina’s boyfriend who gets a bad reputation and has to leave town for a while. you get the idea of this whole switching thing.
the reason i think this scene where gina demonstrates how easy it is to switch works so well is because as an audience member you keep being kept on the back foot. the serie starts with us following who we think is gina. we get her pov. she lives in hollywood and goes home for the first time in a while to the country because her sister (”leni”) is missing. she goes home to try and help find her and finds all kinds of weird mysterious sketchy shit that “leni” has left for her. at the end of the first episode she finds a message from “leni” thats like, leni’s clothes on a doll thats left in some secret spot they both knew with a note that says “you get both lives. choose”. so “gina” is like “wtf leni??” and she goes home pretending to be Leni The Daughter Returned and she decides to play both gina and leni for a while to figure out where leni is and what shes doing.
but so at the end of that first episode where we THOUGHT we had been following GINA the entire time, “gina” decides to play both parts for a bit and in voiceover says “okay gina, i’ll go back to being leni for a bit”. so from the first episode youre made unsure of who youre watching. because leni had been living gina’s life for a year before returning home and going back to being leni. if youre more smart than my dad and i are then it’s probably super clear and easy to follow but for the first half of the series my dad and i kept asking each other “wait so this is leni?” “is this gina?” “is gina now pretending to be leni or is this leni pretending to be gina pretending to be leni?” etc
for the next couple episodes as we now realise we’re in leni’s pov not gina’s, we get to know gina as someone who seems to have been fucking up leni’s life from the inside. stealing a baby horse and some ketamine maybe, having an affair, letting out some horses from the stables, idk im not good with plot but some stuff like that gina has been stirring shit up and now shes missing. so leni is pretending to be both sisters for a while while she tries to get answers about what troublemaker gina was up to and what shes done to leni’s life.
but then at some point the a little past half the series i think, we switch to gina’s pov, we get to see what gina-pretending-to-be-leni for the past year has been doing, and our sympathies switch. instead of gina being the troublemaker we get the impression of gina just trying to wrestle herself free from her sister’s control. because as she says in the clip, theyve been switching lives every year on their birthday since the birth of leni’s daughter, who is like 12 now. leni got married to her high school sweetheart who they already shared back and gina is with someone in hollywood (her THERAPIST lets not get into it ghkgkjgj). so theyre sharing lives, sharing husbands, sharing a child, and nobody knows about this except the two of them (and turns out later the therapist husband too, he went along with it. this whole situation is fucking great)
in the last episode and their house burns down and leni tries to keep gina from escaping the burning house, fails to do so, and then chases gina into the woods. leni is like “nobody understands, why dont you understand i love you more than anything” shes chasing her sister through the woods yelling “I LOVE YOU SO MUCH COME BACK TO ME” it’s Good Shit. leni is like “come home” and gina says “i have no home” and leni goes “IM your home”. GOOD SHIT.
gina tries to get away by crossing a river over a waterfall and leni tries to drown her, they struggle, some family secrets and misunderstandings are brought to light and leni always tried to protect gina from everything etc etc “i had to take care of us. i always take care of us. just come back to me so we can be together” and gina says no and jumps off the waterfall. leni then goes to find gina’s husband charlie and i wish i could put the scene in here but i cant so heres a transcript:
CHARLIE: What happened? LENI: Didn’t the sheriff find you? CHARLIE: She did. THey think it was a suicide. I don’t believe that. LENI: I tried to stop her. CHARLIE: She went over the falls. LENI: Yes. CHARLIE: Why? What did you do? LENI: I didn’t push her! Jesus! CHARLIE: That’s not what I meant. I just want to know what happened. LENI: I followed her into the forest. I told her how much I loved her. It didn’t matter. There was something so broken inside her that no amount of love could heal. CHARLIE: I know there’s a deep hurt in both of you. LENI: You knew. All these years. Why didn’t you say anything? CHARLIE: I thought I was doing the right thing. Being present. Accepting, loving you. LENI: Watching, judging, playing along. CHARLIE: Was it play, for you, Leni? Because it wasn’t for me. It was a life. LENI: Two lives. CHARLIE: Yes. LENI: And now? CHARLIE: Do you think she’s dead? LENI: I don’t know. I thought I’d know. Wouldn’t I know? CHARLIE: You know there’s two images I can’t get rid of. The first one is her body. On the shore of the rvier somewhere in the darkness. Waiting. THe second one is she’s on a bus. Or a plane or something. And she’s happy. But in both cases, I can’t talk to her. I can’t touch her. I can’t hear the sound of her voice. She’s just gone. WIthout a goodbye or any kind of resolution. It’s unfinished. You are her. And not her. LENI: I’m so sorry Charlie. CHARLIE: (he holds her face like hes gonna kiss her) I never judged. I watched, I went along, but I never judged. And I loved both of you. LENI: I love you too. (he doesnt kiss her and leaves)
then at the end of the episode, after a scene in which leni leaves the country with a fake passport and gets told by the airport employee “hey werent you here a few days ago too?” and she goes all “uh no? someone who looked exactly like me? how funny. nope wasnt me :) but out of curiosity where did she go?” after all that theres a scene where charlie reads from the book hes written about leni and gina in a bookstore and someone in a hat and glasses in the back asks him whether gina’s body was ever found. then he goes home and theres someone there and THAT scene goes like this:
CHARLIE: You know it felt silly sometimes, not changing the locks. Like I was holding out too much hope. Not being realistic. GENA??: That doesn’t sound like you. CHARLIE: Well this changed me. Probably for the better. GENA: Thats nice to hear. CHARLIE: You prefer a twist if I remember correctly. GENA: That’s right. CHARLIE: I did think the hat and glasses were a bit much though. GENA: Hat and glasses? CHARLIE: Yes, at the reading, just now? That was you right? Asking the first question? GENA: No? I’ve been waiting here tonight for over an hour. CHARLIE: Hmm... GENA: Hmm ;) CHARLIE: I’ll find out, you know, which one you are. GENA: Maybe. Maybe even I don’t know any more.
anyway so now im contemplating a fucked up codependent thoschei twins au
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abyssalpriest · 19 days
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Ahhh I was sitting thinking on Lev's connections to various sun deities and which ones involve him and which don't. They vary between him himself, his sons, him originally now someone else, his archetypes, he uses some names occasionally, he shares other names, some are conceptual Sun Things he's tied to as a sun deity, etc....
But you know. I wasn't expecting to get thrown into a copy of... what is this?? Rig Veda?? On to a page he opened months ago when I tried to open a different file, and now I'm getting schooled on Surya
#Godddd. All the Seven Versus Six stuff is fucking wild. Because that's like. Lev's thing lmfao#The Six That Are Seven. The shatkona is a diagram of 7 points. Seven rays of the Sun. seven horses on the charior#chariot. reading through this part and it keeps saying like ''those who know tell me'' and ''those who have good eyes will know'' and I'm#like yeah. lmfao. I know. This is the Sun King - the king of Six=Seven#But also. Surya AFAIK is just a name he uses. Or I presumed before reading this that yeah that's someone in his lineage or someone#he oversees or knows that's Surya... But now I'm like. We're you once Surya? Don't smile at that#Anyway. I do love how Lev's approaching this with me by just entertaining various configurations of truths that are true when#isolated but not the full picture and then just. reconfiguring them. I need to keep reading but#I mean. I need to keep reading to form an opinion on Surya but all I know is this whole talk on the six and seven like bruh#OK. Well. It's at least your family yeah that's very signature lmfao#Especially getting into ''the seven were created at the same time. Six of these are connected like twins. Although they function#independently they were created at the same time and have the same origin.'' like yeah. I mean. Yeah. They're paired#The shatkona shows they're paired in three groups and it's really really significant to understand that they originated#from the same point that's like Key Gnosis lmfao that the shatkona display of the seven... They're intermingled. They are separate#and they are from the same point. Oh yeah. ''the learned ones use seven different types of thread to create the universe that can#be seen and lived in'' again! Yes! Those With Eyes weave the tapestry created by the seven/six and the reality they create#is the one perceived and lived in because outside of that is the source of the six and the six exist both inside each other and creating#themselves as a whole in - anyway#ramblings //
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alethonym · 9 months
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unbelievable how many things are clicking into place. i can't put them into words right now though there's too many and they're slippery
#my stuff#adding on as i collect:#feeling like I'm barred from my own sexuality#not remembering events and needing people to remind me#lifelong identity issues#the way my ex literally lives in my head rent free and i thought it was twin flame telepathy or something. ngl i still believe in telepathy#like just in general being able to communicate with people in vibes but. that's beside the point here i think#back to the point: my strategies of coping with bad situations being basically 'whatever I'll just dissociate'#so called intrusive thoughts but they're really just like advice or jokes or whatever sometimes a lil scary too but yeah#NOT EVER FEELING CONFIDENT STATING ANYTHING ABOUT MY BELIEFS OR ATTRIBUTES BECAUSE THEY ALWAYS CHANGE...............#the fucking literal maps i used to draw like bro...#i didn't think it was MINE i thought it was like a spiritual structure of the universe or Something. very embarrassing.#sorry for putting it all out here like this. i just want it available later#also i just deleted my tags on another post without really thinking about it but literally yesterday i was still talking about how i#'see myself as one person its just a loose definition of what an identity is' like i tie my identity to the body no matter what#that's another thing like. that time i learned to Trust the Body above all else#i didn't really understand why i was even having trouble with something like that#but also i somehow thought it was normal#more or less#feeling like i was a different person based on who i was talking to. i thought i was just masking autism or like idk mirroring y'know#looking for ways to talk 'to myself' and i had a requirement that it needed to have an option to reply like a friend in a chat could#like just messaging myself wasn't good enough#looking back it's so... like.. this makes a LOT of sense#THE WAY THAT FILLING OUT PSYCHOLOGICAL ASSESSMENTS FEELS ABSOLUTELY FUCKING INTOLERABLE#like i can do a basic one because. we have learned. but it's torturous overall#some of our past experiences with 'synchronicity' taking on a whole new meaning ..#definitely there's still god and magic involved though#in some but not all instances of synchronicity
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actual-changeling · 6 months
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we do not talk enough about the moment right before crowley puts his sunglasses back on. the "nothing lasts forever" is devastating and if you're like me your eyes were so full of tears you couldn't see the screen the first time you watched it (just like crowley, look at us all twinning in sadness!).
there is a shift that happens in his eyes and i think it is absolutely fascinating and heartbreaking at the same time.
we begin with crowley averting his gaze from aziraphale's face and staring off into the distance instead, and you can see his spirit break. that crowley just lost the one thing in the world he cannot live without and we can see it written across his face like a neon sign.
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then, as you'd expect, he gives into the need to cover up his pain, to try and make himself less vulnerable, and even before he lifts his glasses he looks down so aziraphale can no longer see his eyes.
now, the next part is what would not let me out of its grasp all day. we know it happens because of his demeanour afterwards and up until the kiss, but you can actually watch as crowley makes himself numb to the world.
i am intimately familiar with dissociation as a trauma and stress response, and while you can never fully control it, you do eventually find the switch in your mind that makes you snap back into the haze. crowley has had six thousand years to get really, really good at leaving reality behind when he needs and/or wants to.
that's exactly what he does.
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he still looks sad, and yet there's just something distinctly distant in his eyes, the shift from openly heartbroken to "i don't want to feel any of this let me leave".
glasses? on
emotions? off
hotel? trivago
i have stared at those four frames more than any person probably should and i don't know if it's the light, if i am going insane, or if there is a single tear sliding out of his right (our left) eye. i'm probably insane and the light is a bitch so if anyone has some high resolution shots or anything that could answer that question without a doubt PLEASE do add it.
by now you are probably ready to threaten me with a knife in a dark alley but before you do that or drive your car off a cliff, let me tell you the best part:
aziraphale notices.
they might be communicating on two different frequencies but aziraphale knows crowley. he knows and loves him, and, most importantly, over the last few years he has gotten used to seeing crowley without his glasses. aziraphale could probably write a book on the expressions in his eyes alone and watches that shift happen and is devastated.
look.
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he tries to make himself hope the same second, tries to convince himself crowley is putting on his glasses so they can leave together, but he knows.
aziraphale sees the light leave crowley's eyes, sees crowley leave, knowing that he is quite literally running away from him. you and me against the world, angel, but in that moment crowley firmly pushes him back to "the world" (or tries to, anyway).
the entire season we see crowley take off his glasses whenever he enters the bookshop to the point where he's running around without them on in broad daylight with jimbriel right there.
can you imagine how hurt and confused aziraphale must be?
because what crowley is telling him, if we really, really break it down, is that aziraphale is no longer a safe person for him. and repairing that trust is going to take time and work, no matter how much crowley loves him, how badly they love and need each other.
anyway to seal this off and really rub in the pain - how it started vs. how it ended. <3
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oh one last thing: now crowley no longer has a single person he can be himself around, no one that knows him, no one he trusts. no one in whose presence he can take his glasses off.
and outside of the bentley and his own flat, he no longer has a place to do so either. the bookshop was theirs. with aziraphale gone, is it really a safe place anymore? is it somewhere he can just let himself be knowing he will be looked after and protected?
easy answer: no.
alright, off i go. see y'all on the next angst post or in the tags.
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capslocked · 2 months
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PARITY
male reader x sana & miyeon
21k words
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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.)
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tarudce22 · 1 year
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I think my work place is cursed to end every store managers career.
that backroom sure is a killer
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frmisnow · 1 month
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✧˖ ?!— BATHROOM OF POSSIBILITIES ˚ 𖦹‧ . - (NSFW.)
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— ‧₊˚ — 🥝‧₊ : "is it true that you're a whore ??"
summary. who would've thought that you'd end up fucking your besties socially awkward friend in a bar bathroom??? (only to get caught by your bestie..) anything is possible !
notes. omg i'm so sorry i SUCK at writing threesomes, i won't even try!! i still hope asker is satisfied, much lovee!! ₊˚⊹♡
warnings/includes. (MDNI!!) (002 / getting caught), jk is socially awkward around new ppl (we r lowkey twinning here), cocksucker & whore mentioned, unprotected sex :( (they r reckless and a lil stupid), bathroom sex
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the guy yoongi dragged into the conversation was hot- like really hot.
usually when yoongi introduces you to his other friends, they're either high, drunk or filthy rich that just seemed to be the typa guys yoongi attracted- nonetheless maybe this guy was all of the above.
though weirdly enough his eyes didn't quite settle like ever, he couldn't look you in the eyes even just once as yoongi punches his arm lightly for him to talk.
"hey," he greeted, and the sound that escaped his lips was unexpectedly awkward, almost stumbling over the single syllable.
yoongi chuckled, sensing the surprise on your face. "Don't let the intimidating exterior fool you," he teased, clapping Jungkook on the back. "jungkook here is a little socially awkward. it's kind of adorable, actually, you're gonna love him tho"
"why are you talking about me like i'm not right by your side," jungkook mumbeled quietly in response, his gaze looking to his feet as yoongi smiled at him like he was some forgein never-been-seen before animal species, ignoring his response, "he's exactly like the guys you usually fuck"
"now that just sounds like i blow all your friends off, that's just wrong, yoon-" you snickered, shaking your head, sipping the rest of his drink down in a swift motion as yoongi rolled his eyes, "can you stop drinking my shit? man, i can give your broke ass a few pennies for a drink" he pinched your cheek like he was talking to a child, "let me do chariety work"
"sounds just like something an old man like you'd do," you leaned against the bar casually, "y'know do some chariety and then take your little nap"
yoongi rolled his once again, quite poorly hiding the grin that snuck it's way onto his face, turning full way to jungkook like he forgot of your existence, "see? she's a brat, a menace, a whore- anything under the sun-" he paused like he was thinking of something, "i need a drink"
till turning again, pointing a finger at you, "cause you drank it all up, you'll pay for it sooner or later" slowly walking off not even waiting for an answer as you yelled, "shouldn't have insinuated that i'm a brainless cock sucker"
after he was out of sight, you turned your attention to jungkook who's eyes had been observing every detail of the past conversation, you shook your head in pretend-frustration, emphasizing: "sorry you had to witness that, when it gets over the time of 12pm and he's desperately over his bed time, he just gets so..." you sighed like you were in extreme concern, "cocky"
it was the first time your eyes linked, a small but growing smile on his face, "you're funny, i like you"
"well then it doesn't take much to impress you," you smiled back, thinking for a few seconds. no, you wanted to know more about the dude- at least one of you has to try. "but for real why are you out of all people friends with yoongi?"
he tilted his head up slightly like he was in fact trying to look into his brain to see an answer, "i think he's fun.. at times and i'm pretty sure he's a sweetie at heart"
you nod along, yoongi can be truly insufferable but if he did care when needed and maybe that was just enough- you shook your head trying to not overthink it all of a sudden, switching the topic, "truth or dare"
he raised his eyebrows for a split second, surprised by the abrupt topic switch, "truth"
"weirdest place you've ever had sex?"
he let out a little breathy chuckle, the sound of jungkooks laughter generally pretty, "an ikea bedroom," he played with his lip piercing like he was contemplaiting wheather he should say the next thing, "just a bit of fingering nothing to extreme nonetheless truth or dare?"
"truth"
"you're no fun," he pouted jokingly till adding, "is it true that you're a whore?"
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this was not the position you imagined yourself at the end of the night- no, scratch that, this was not the man you imagined to be with in this position, pressed against the mirror of a dirty bathroom, ass hurting from the bath sink you were seated on, jungkook out of all balls deep into you.
his mouth was pressed against your neck, whispering horny sweet nothings against the bare skin, how much of a cock sucker you actually were, how easy it was for him to get you here, how stupid and solely cock-focused you were.
it was like all his awkwardness wore off the longer he lingered next to you as he pounded into you like he had fucked you tens of times before.
you didn't care if you were completely reckless right now or if the door was open and anyone could fucking walk in at any given moment or where yoongi was - after all maybe jungkook was right: all you could think of right now was his dick deep inside you.
"do you go around and fuck around with all of his friends behind his back or is it just me? mmh, c'mon answer" your tongue felt tied, it was like you had water in your ear, his words not quite audible as you shook your head, not getting it, "made for taking dick, exactly like i thought"
he spread your legs a bit wider, cock scretching your pussy just the right way as you creeked out something about 'needing to cum'
his fingers entertwined in your hair, pulling it just lightly, biting his lips trying to conceal a whimper at the feeling of your pussy tightning round him, "i'll give it to you, wanna have you cum all over my dick"
a high pitched scream aired through the room, so loud like somebody had witnessed a murder - simultaneously it felt like your little bubble of pure utter hornieness had popped, looking to your right to look at a deeply digusted min yoongi, who's hands were already covering his eyes like a defence mechanism.
"it's not what it looks like!"
you both yelled, jungkook pulling out instantly covering you with his shirt that had been thrown onto the ground like fifteen minutes ago, "what do you mean? your dick was in-" he shook his head dramatically and in a repeated fashion while you threw your clothes on as fast as you possibly could, "i don't think we can be friends anymore.. that image uhh-" he did another disgusted expression, covering his mouth like he was still in after-shook.
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it took about ten minutes to calm yoongi down (and a whole lot of promises and gaslight about how he was probably to drunk for his own good) till you both sat him down into a taxi taht was going to safely drive him home.
you stood there outside the bar in the cold air of the night silently for a little while before you both started laughing, what started as a tiny chuckle turned into cackling like maniacs.
eventually you got your shit together, mumbling "well that was awkward" he grinned in response, "right before cumming too- how cruel"
jungkook played with his piercing once again, gaze zoning out shortly till returning to yours, "how about i take you home and you get to finish off just like you deserve?"
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drchucktingle · 1 year
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What flavor of queer are you, if that's not too invasive of a question?
question is just fine with chuck it is kind of interesting story.
on LGBTQIA trot i am TECHNICALLY two letters
easy first one is B that does not need any more explanation. that has always been my trot
second way is what i have learned through talkin with my online buds way of non-dysphoric trans. it has taken chuck LONG time to understand this but it has been fruitful journey i think. long ago chuck would post online about becoming other people or things or concepts or wrestling with my IDENTITY as a buckaroo (whether that meant becoming sweet barbara or becoming my reverse twin or becoming the entire seahawks footballs team, very handsome). in fitting with my entire heckin LIFE some buds probably thought these were jokes when they were not at all. they were just personal artistic bubbles tumbling up and popping in ways i didnt understand yet.
but through posting these thoughts and THEN writing trans tinglers and talking to my trans buds online, i started to realize there are all kinds of versions of a trans identity INCLUDING the ones that rolled around deep inside of me that i never had a name for.
three events helped chuck understand this
first: the trans buds chuck talked to while researching harriet porber said 'well i always knew if i could press a button and change my body to match my gender i would instantly do this' and chuck thought 'of course woudlnt we all do this?' and they said 'well no, do you feel this way?' and i would say 'yes very strongly'. i will FOREVER be grateful to trans community for these conversations and maybe it is another reason why being anti-gatekeeping is so important to chuck.
second: thought about all the games i have ever played like a dang videogame or a role playing game, chuck would ALWAYS choose ladybuck character. didnt really think this was a unique thing at time but it is a pattern across whole life
third: chuck was trotting around with some buds and they all said 'whose bod would you choose if you could transform into any body?' (this is common topic for chuck believe it or not.) and the buckaroo guys went around naming the usual brats pitt or handsome channing and it got to chuck and i said 'obviously brie larson' and then the dang guys just kind of stared at chuck and then i realized 'oh, i didnt even think my answer was unusual but i guess they were only talkin guy bods'
these three things happened pretty close to one another but they were all bubbling up for decades and expressed in various ways even chuck did not entirely understand
anyway. chucks way is NOT that i feel uncomfortable in my body and it does not bring me grief. i am not upset about it honestly. i do not even THINK about it most days. however, it is all TRUE and in a purely technical and utilitarian sense of A PLUS B then YES, male would not be my preferred gender.
didnt talk on this for a while because there are MANY dysphoric trans buckaroos who go through a lot of hardships and i have gone through ABSOLUTELY NONE IN THIS WAY. it has not made my life more difficult and it does not haunt me, so i do not want to have my voice drown out other trans buds who need space to shout. i am very privileged so even though technically this applies to chuck i do not need or want any bonus points.
that beings said, part of my journey on the autistic spectrum was to recognize that EVEN THOUGH my personal story is not tragic, it is still an important one to get out there onto this timeline. IN FACT there should be more stories of buckaroos who love being autistic like chuck. i am PROUD of my trot and i love my autism (this is also why i wanted to explicitly say my lead character in camp damascus is autistic)
so in the same way, when directly asked, i will say: i am technically non-dysphoric trans ALSO this has not weighed on my life at all. my story is not tragic it is full of joy and excitement. i will not shy away from this because there are all kinds of buckaroos on this spectrum.
anyway that is my VERY LONG TROT hope you enjoyed getting to know chuck a little more thank you for this question buckaroo
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ew-selfish-art · 9 months
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Dp x Dc AU: Danny's final Interview with Tim Drake for the Wayne Enterprise's Space Program Operation Janus Crew... Demon Twin AU.
Danny had been waiting for his offer letter from WE to be officially part of the Janus Crew. He'd done all the standard rigorous testing and passed with flying colors. He'd talked to every single head engineer and interviewed at all levels to prove that he was the man for this mission. It was as good as gold, so Danny was surprised when he got a call from the PA to Tim Drake, the CEO himself, to come in for a final interview. Just a formality and mostly just to meet the man who was going to be the poster boy for their program. Makes sense, but is unnerving, nonetheless.
The second he walks into the office space, Tam Fox seemingly does a double take, blinking a few times when he explains that he's there for a final interview. She nods and he proceeds as if nothing about that was weird.
Tim Drake has four laptops in front of him and a scattering of papers, but looking up to see Danny, he closes them all and the image of a scattered young man trying to run a Fortune 500 company is replaced with some one of deadly capability.
"Danny Fenton. Great to meet you, I appreciate you coming by today." Tim says, but Danny can see the sharks fin in the water.
"Of course, I'm excited to be part of the Crew." Danny throws back, making it clear right away that Tim needs to cut to the chase if Danny's not going to be an astronaut with WE. NASA will take him back in a heartbeat if WE is going to try and play games.
"We're excited to have you, everyone speaks of you like the next Armstrong or Aldrin. I just had a few questions, as an informality, that I wanted answered."
"I feel like I've answered every question there could be about me, but go ahead. I'm an open book."
"Great. I suppose I'll start with asking about your adoptive family, the Fentons. Were they good to you when you transitioned to their home?"
"...It's not common knowledge that I'm adopted. Mom and Dad are fine. We have a strained relationship now because of my teenage rebellion but I still go home for most holidays." Danny is on edge, but also a bit excited? How did Tim find this out?
"I see. I'm an adopted child myself, you can understand maybe why I asked. Do you have any relationship with your birth family?" Tim asks, but its clear he's asking something else. Danny calls it how he sees it.
"What are you trying to find out? I mean really, you're very polite but this doesn't have to do with my job."
"I'll cut to the chase then. Do you hold any allegiance to Ra's al Ghul or the League of Assassins?"
"Woah." Danny blinks.
"Woah as in you're surprised I found out, or Woah in surprise that you've been found out?"
"Woah as in, what the fuck, I haven't thought of his name in decades. I escaped pretty young after being abused from birth."
"That's what I needed to know. You have a sister through the Fentons, and a cousin that I suspect is a clone, any other siblings?" Tim asks, his to the point question making Danny's head spin. How the fuck did this guy know about Dani?
"How do you-"
"Any other siblings, Danny?" Tim repeats, cutting him off.
"...Yeah. I should have a twin running around out there. But if this has to do with whatever crazy bullshit he might be up to, I swear i'm not in contact with him or his family. I haven't been since I freed myself."
Tim looks like he's contemplating something, his eyes are still evaluating Danny as though he were a frog in freshman year Bio.
"I have a little brother, Danny, and it's interesting. He's not particularly fascinated by space but he likes to keep up with all the astronauts. I took it upon myself to research you once you came on the roster two years ago for this position. I know you're capable and I had no doubt that you'd be the man for the job. Then I saw your picture."
"You... saw my picture?"
"My brother watches out for Astronauts because he holds onto the hope that someone from his past might be one some day. That it might lead to their reconciliation." Tim clarifies.
Danny can't do anything but stare. No. No way.
"I told Damian not to look into the astronauts for the Janus Crew. Want to guess why?" For the first time, Tim's eyes look soft around the edges. Danny stays silent for a while, head reeling from this information.
"...Is he. Is he free?" Danny finally asks.
"He's left the league and burned all allegiance he held for them, if that's what you're asking. Came to join his dad, my adoptive father, when he was about ten. So just a few years after you made your own way out without him."
"That's... That's good. I'm glad. He's healthy?" Danny can't help himself but inquire. He'd loved his brother until it literally broke him.
"Most days. He runs an animal sanctuary, has a girlfriend and a best friend, gets along with our large family."
"Woah." Danny's near speechless again.
"I'm telling you this because... He's going to find out Friday with the press release of you being our Crew Leader. He'll see you and no doubt try to contact you. I want you to have the choice of reaching out to him before that, or at least make your peace with what you have to say to him if you don't want a relationship."
"Why?"
"Because I don't care to see my siblings hurt. Here, it's my personal line, below it is Damian's. Reach out to me if you'd like for me to plan a meeting spot, reach out to him if you'd prefer I stay out of it. I understand completely if my questions have led you to not trust me." Tim offers him a piece of paper with two phone numbers on it, Danny takes it with shaking hands.
"I... See. Okay." and then after a moment, Danny added numbly "Thanks."
Tim stands and Danny follows, they're both walking towards the door and Danny can't help but feel like he's waiting for another shoe to drop. Tim has a look in his eye like Jazz might on his birthday.
"One last thing before you go and you're officially listed as our star Astronaut: I took care of those pesky case files and lab reports for you. The white ones. It is quite literally impossible for that heinous shit to every bother you again."
"Wait, What? Why would you do that for me? You couldn't have known-"
"It's what family is for. Have a good day, Janus Crew Lead Danny."
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1800jjbarnes · 6 months
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◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟗: 𝐃𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚/𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 - 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 ◇
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Prove It
【Synopsis】 : late night conversations aren't supposed to end in sex... right?
『W.C』 : 3.10k
-> Genre: College Au. Smut. Poly.
Pairing: Steve x Bucky x Stark!Reader
[Warnings] : Man handling. Clit play. Pet names. Dirty talk. Neck kisses. Fingering. Oral. Crying. Overwhelming amount of emotions leading to a type of subspace. Ass slapping. Making out. Sweet kisses. This is jut all over the place I’m sorry.
Masterlist | Kinktober List
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You couldn’t recall the time, but your hazy eyes and wobbly legs made it out to seem it was nearing at least three in the morning. You weren't a morning person, and neither seemed to be your body. But you couldn’t sleep, no, you needed a glass of water before your throat shrivelled up on itself. You hummed and hared over it, and in the end, you kicked up the blankets and headed to the kitchen. You had planned to down a bottle, waddle back to your room, and lay staring at the ceiling until it was appropriate to officially get out of bed. That was until;
“I’m just saying I see no chance of that ever happening.” Bucky's whisper, yelled through the dark home. You assumed he was in the lounge. Curious, you headed over to see what he might be talking about. Gazing into the room without detection, you notice Bucky sitting on the twin couch while another, scruff-haired, sits on the opposite couch. “Steve…” He sighed, “I’m gonna lose my mind at this point.”
“We could always just, ask.” Steve sounded as if he had discovered the perfect answer. But Bucky throwing a pillow in his direction says otherwise.
“For a dude majoring in social studies, you are stupid.” Bucky tisked, leaning back so his head would drape over the top of the couch. You decided to step out and make your presence known, wanting to join and see what this oh, so terrible situation they seemed to have put themselves in.
“Ask who?” You responded, making both men physically jump. Neither of them must have heard you when you were slamming the fridge before. Bucky suddenly sat up straight while Steve reached for the pillow that was thrown at him. You raised your eyebrow a little, choosing to sit on the loveseat by yourself. Were they acting weird, or was it just your imagination?
“Oh just school drama, don’t worry about it.” Steve was quick to cut off any more questions. They were definitely acting weird, and you hated that. Most of the time, out of all your brother's friends, Steve and Bucky were the friendliest. They treated you like a person and not some little girl or ‘Tony's Little Sister’.
“Hmm…” You didn’t know how to respond that wouldn’t turn into something sour. So you chose to just let it go. It’s not like it was the first time one of your brother's friends cut you off because it was ‘school-related’ even though they were all in their second-to-last year in Uni while you had only just started. On top of that, they treated you as if you were still this young eighteen-year-old. Most of them even forgetting you were twenty-one already.
“Sorry doll. It’s just…We don’t need to bore you with our stupid drama. Besides I’m more interested to hear about that boyfriend of yours. How have you two been getting along?” Bucky diverted the conversation as easy as breathing. One of his many skills. Sweet talking. You wanted to roll your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, well, ex now. You don’t even know why you started dating him. Oh wait, you only started dating him to see if it affected Buck or Steve. But neither of them showed signs of disapproval. Which annoyed you. Your crush on them was getting out of hand, and your friend suggested dating someone to see if they would react, but now you wished you never took that advice from her.
“Ex. He, uh, wasn’t a great person. And in every aspect, full of himself and…” You stopped yourself, feeling blush, scatter your cheeks. You were really about to confess something about your sex life to them. Steve raised his eyebrow while Bucky clicked his tongue. Their attention was completely on yours, and it made you squirm.
“And?” Steve had a feeling what you wanted to say but he wanted to hear it from your pretty lips first.
“And…He wasn't experienced in the…L-Love department.” You gulped suddenly shaking your head. “But it’s not like I knew anything either given he was my first and all but like you should at least know where to pleasure a woman you know? Like I didn’t know how uncomfortable sex was until he decided to do it. It was so awful and I just—” You suddenly realized you word vomited and cringed internally. “Wanna crawl into a hole and never see the light of day again.”
It stayed silent for a moment, making you feel embarrassment riddle your body. But then Steve's laugh caught everyone's attention. “It’s okay. We all have that type of relationship at some point, but he couldn’t be that bad.” Steve tried to lighten the mood, trying to make you feel better, but it didn’t really help. You stole a quick glance at Bucky and noticed he was also looking at you with some type of remorse, feeling bad for you. You just groaned, pushing your legs to your chest, hugging them tightly.
“No, he was pathetic, if I’m honest. I’m not trying to be mean, but it’s true… he only cared for his needs..” It was like a switch went off in both male's heads. They knew what you were referencing, and they both couldn’t help but groan at you, basically saying you couldn’t get off to your ex. Admitting you were sexually frustrated. Admitting he couldn’t even do the simplest job of finding your sweet spot. You gulped, feeling the air become thicker as tension started to brew in the room. You shifted slightly, seeing Steve and Bucky both seem to become tense, stealing glances at one another.
“Finding the clit isn’t that hard darling.” Bucky chuckled lewdly making Steve laugh in response but you snapped instead;
“That’s what all men say.” You huffed.
“I can prove it.” Bucky's words made you choke on your own saliva. Did he really just say he could prove it? How would he do that?
“P-prove it?” You gulped now sitting in a crossed-legged position.
“Yeah I’ll prove it. Come here.” He smirked, patting his thigh while spreading his legs. You were hesitant for a moment. Was this all a trick? Some cruel game? You trusted your bothers friends with your life, but one thing you knew about them was they are heart breakers. Bad boys. And that they didn’t have the best track record with keep partners. “I’m not going to ask you again.”
His voice was stern, and it made something tingle inside you. Slowly getting up, you hesitantly walked the three steps till you were standing right in front of him. He took that as a green light, grabbing your thighs to pull you onto him. Your hands found perch on his shoulders while your legs fell on either side of his lap, spreading yourself open on top of him. He stared at you in amusement, watching you like a hawk about to consume its prey. Your body felt hot, and your cheeks were dusted with a deep red. You’ve never been this close to him before. Never been so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. His hands squeezing your hips. His erection twitched beneath you. “You ready to be proven wrong, Darling?”
You nodded before slipping out a quick breathy ‘yes’. You felt the couch shift and noticed out the corner of your eye that Steve had taken a seat next to you and Bucky. The younger however didn’t do anything, just stayed back and stared at what might unfold in front of him. Bucky placed his fingers against your chin, making your attention completely his. The grin he wore sent shivers down your spine, and the hand that danced so closely to your inner thigh made you want to roll your eyes back in pleasure. “So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m gonna place my two fingers on your clit through your sleep shorts and if I find it. I want you to moan my name. Can you do that Dollface?”
You blurted a ‘yes’ a little bit too quickly, but you couldn’t care. All you could think about was Bucky and him touching you. So without another moment, Buck brought his fingers to your inner thigh, hovering just where you need him. You could tell he was faking in “trying” to find your button. He knew where it was, but he wanted to watch you squirm a little bit first. And before you could mutter anything he place his fingers right on your clit making you gasp. “James.”
“Told you I could prove it.” His confidence radiated off him, rubbing your nub in little circle, making you thread your fingers in his loose shirt. Your hips were stuttering, begging to move, and your eyes were sewn shut, focusing on the pleasure alone.
“Hey, I wanna try.” Steve's deep voice tickled your ear, making your head snap over to him. You didn’t even get a chance to protest, even though you knew you wouldn’t, before wrapping his large arms around your waist and picking you up so he could place you on his lap. Your back was firmly against his chest, letting him shove his face in your neck. You felt his lips graze your hot skin, making you wiggle in his hold. “Let’s make this more fun.”
Steve's fingers hooked under your sleep shorts, making you freeze. Your eyes are glued to Buck's dark ones. They were blown out, watching you carefully with lust. You lifted your hips without saying anything, letting Steve take your shorts off, along with your panties. Your heart was racing at the thought they were both going to touch you, but your mind also wandered to the others in the house. Yes, they all might be sleeping, but any of them could walk in and see what the two men were doing to you. “S-Stevie pleasee.”
“Oh, Sugar, I haven’t even touched you yet.” He chuckled, making Bucky lowly laugh at your desperation. These boys had you wrapped around their fingers. Steve slid his hand up your thigh, spreading your legs wide so Bucky got a good view of your dripping cunt. You tried to close them, but Steve's strong grasp kept them still. You felt embarrassed being the only one basically naked, and on top of it being naked in front of two people you had a huge crush on. Neither of them seemed to mind one bit though, Bucky having the temptation to latch his lips on your soaked cunt while Steve wanted nothing more then to fuck you with his fingers until you were crying.
Actually now that he thinks about it, that sounds like the perfect idea.
“And 3…2…1” His finger pressed perfectly on your clit making you jump. “Gotcha.” Steve grins, licking a strip up your neck, placing kisses down on your shoulder blade. His fingers circle your clit furiously, causing a hiccup to spit out of you. Bucky took this moment to lay down on his stomach so he was face to face with your pussy. He slid his long hot tongue along your folds.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Buckkyy. S-Stev―” Steve suddenly covered your mouth with his hand, hushing you from screaming. Your hips bucked, feeling Bucky slowly push a finger inside you. Your eyes sealed shut tight, feeling Steve's fingers on your clit, his lips biting and sucking all over your neck and Bucky's tongue lapping your juices up while he fucked you with his digits. It was like a sinful wet dream had come true and your mind was spinning at the thought.
“As much as we’d love to hear you scream our names. You better keep those pretty moans on the down-low doll. Otherwise, someone might hear us. And we won't want that now, do we.” Steve's deep voice grunted in your ear as you just nodded in response, losing yourself once again in the touch of both men. Tears start to prickle on the sides of your eyes as you felt your stomach tie itself in knots. You were so close to coming undone yet so fair as well. Your mind couldn’t take it anymore, and you needed more. You tried to speak, but your mouth was covered tightly. Bucky continued with his assault on your cunt, shoving another two fingers in while lapping up your cream all the while Steve had dressed you in his marks from the top of your neck to your back down your shoulder blade. His fingers never left your clit either.
“mm…mmm.” No matter how hard you tried to warn them something felt different about your high fast approaching. The large hand over your mouth made it ultimately useless. You bucked your hips moving in time with Bucky's fingers, feeling yourself begin to cry. And not cry like a few simply tears, no. You began to sob, feeling so overwhelmed and unable to communicate, made your mind shift into a place you had no idea existed. Your brain mushed, making you feel like you were floating. And only Steve and Bucky were around. You let go. Screaming a muffled whale, you squirted all over Bucky's face. Your tears stained Steve's hand while your nose began to drool. Once Buck helped you lessen your high, he sat up, taking a look at the mess you made.
“Awe princess. Look at this.” he gathered some of your cum and pushed it against Steve's lips. He sucked on the other male's finger with a groan making you cry even more. They both took notice of your tears and removed the hand over your mouth. You hiccuped, whimpering. Sobbing. Your fingers dug into the couch as Steve finally let you close your legs. Everything was happening all at once, and your body was aching from the awkward position. But you need your boys. You needed them to look after you.
“P-Please Sirs…I need more…” Your sweet high pitched voice caused both men to groan, feeling their cocks harden in their pants.
“Fuck Sugar. You okay?” Ste e tilted your head to the side so he could look at you. Your face was red, puffy and wet. “Pretty baby is crying. Did it feel that good?”
You couldn’t find a response in your fuzzy brain, so instead, you kissed him. Steve's eyes grew wide for a second, not thinking you’d kiss him. But who is he to complain when your lips were so soft and kissable. Cupping your face, he deepened the kiss, making you shake. He pulled away first, letting your catch your breath, but you did see it like that suddenly sitting up you got on all fours so you could reach, Bucky who was leaning on the other end of the couch. Your face was inches from his but didn’t move until he placed his fingers on your chin.
The kiss was desperate and rough. Bucky's fingers raked through your hair before tugging at it, making your hips wiggle, which conveniently made your bare ass jiggle in front of Steve. Now, saying Steev was an ass man was an understatement. This man lives for asses, and your ass was definitely one of the prettiest ones he's ever seen. He gave a harsh slap, sending a loud clap echoing through the room. Your moan was swallowed by Bucky, letting him shove his tongue deep down your throat. Steve kept slapping your bare cheeks, finding pleasure in seeing his hand prints appear on your soft skin.
“Hey, punk if we keep going I might have to fuck her,” Steve said so casually as if neither of them were tainting your idea of pleasure permanently. Bucky pulled away making you chase his lips.
“I think we need to end it otherwise we’d both be fucking her. And I don’t think we have the time.” Bucky chuckled, leaning back to place his arms on either side of the couch, tilting his head back with a sigh. Steve rubbed your ass, helping you sit up back to lean against his chest. His hands danced around your hips snaked up your shirt noticing you weren’t wearing a bra.
“Too bad, we didn’t get to play with these yet.” Steve cupped your breasts, squeezing them harshly. Your eyes never left Bucky's form. He tilted his head up briefly to watch Steve's hands play with your covered tits. You bit your lip, lifting your shirt up so he could see Steve’s assault.
“Fuck,” Bucky groaned wanting nothing more than to have those tits in his mouth. He sighed shaking his head before standing up to pick up your shorts and panties up. “Come on sweet thing, let’s get you to bed.”
You whined at the idea of having to end such a pleasurable ordeal. But sadly, they were right. You had no clue how long you’d been at this, and if your brother were to wake up, there would be hell to pay. You take your clothes from Bucky, putting them back on while Steve helped you stand. Your breathing was heavy, and your legs were on godly wobbly, but Steve's hard, strong arms kept you up. Once dressed, you looked up to Bucky, seeing a sweeter, less lustful smile on his features. He stood so close while Steve stood flush behind you. They were effectively sandwiching you. Bucky gave you a long, drawn-out kiss before guiding your face with his fingers on your chin to Steve, letting the other man seal his lips against your own. It felt so natural to be shared by them. And they felt the same. It was like one fluid motion. Comfort. And you were hating that it was ending. Once Steve pulled away, you looked back at Bucky, getting ready to wish them a good night. Until he said ;
“Don’t worry Doll. This isn’t over yet. Our fun is only beginning.”
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