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capslocked · 3 months

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PARITY

male reader x sana & miyeon

21k words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's really fucking uncanny.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anyway,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Pretty," you say out loud.

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

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

"Lose it," you request, quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So then, what could it possibly be?”

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

Sana sits up a little in her chair.

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

You and Sana almost snort in unison.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two tops.

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

Her eyelids flicker once.

Then close.

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

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

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

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

And then her lips tighten and she just-

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

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

She just-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"-and when he has to pull out-"

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

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

"-maybe-"

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

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

The answer’s a two-part chorus. Yes.

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

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

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

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

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

"Miyeonie," Sana says.

"Sana," Miyeon returns, flat.

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

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

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

"You know the one."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve noticed.”

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

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

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

Sana shrugs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh, birds of a feather.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

On your phone, there are some choice text messages:

// Miyeon 2:18 AM > jesus

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

// Miyeon 2:18 AM > PLEASE

// Miyeon 2:18 AM > fuck any quieter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Come here."

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

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

It's really always about the two of them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Please do."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"N-need," Miyeon chokes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Miyeon cries out.

“I'm going to cum-"

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

"I-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And now's no different, really.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not meaning to, or maybe too eager.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shall we?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It goes without saying.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Direct.

To the point.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"-yeah," she huffs, panting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There is not much talking from then on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"-please."

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, it's just like this:

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

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

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

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

The smallest, lightest grind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Gives you two so much to talk about."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So: "I need the both of you."

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

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

You just groan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They're fucking-

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

- identical.

"Look, I didn't mean-"

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

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

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

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

"She isn't?" you ask.

Sana sighs. "Um. Not even close."

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

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

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

-gorgeous, lewd, completely fucking filthy.

"I got a lot, babe."

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

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

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

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

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

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moonstruckme · 3 months

Note

hi! i've been stalking your page for literal hours and i love how you write poly marauders so much!! could you write how they would react to the reader coming home from a night out with a black eye or something like that?? <33333

Thank you lovely! And thanks for being so patient while I took literal months to get to this request haha, love you! <3

cw: reader is drunk and has a black eye

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Hey, gorgeous,” Sirius says as you come in the door. Remus shushes him, and he lowers his voice. “How’re the girls?”

“Good,” you reply, cautiously quiet as you kick off your shoes.

Rounding the couch, you see James asleep on Remus’ shoulder, a small puddle of drool soaking into the material of the taller boy’s pajama shirt. They’re all in pajamas, actually. Envy strikes you through the heart. They look so unbearably cozy, better than you in your scratchy jeans and too-tight top.

“I hope you didn’t wait up,” you say as Remus flips his book closed, and Sirius chuckles. You’ll learn later that you’d been slurring your words.

“We don’t mind,” Remus confirms your suspicions. “You didn’t walk home by yourself, did you?”

You shake your head, flopping into the spot beside James on the couch. Only you hadn’t quite thought that through, and Remus tuts as he starts to rouse.

“Sorry,” you whisper. “Um, the girls dropped me off out front.”

Sirius nods his approval. James hums as he picks his head up off Remus’ shoulder, spotting you.

“Hey, lovie.” He transfers his affections to you, wrapping his arms around your neck and letting himself weigh heavily against your front. You giggle, your favorite monkey. “Did you just get home?”

“Uh-huh. Oh, Jamie!” You gasp as a memory makes its way out of the fog of your brain. “I saw something you would have loved.”

“What’s that?” he asks.

“We came across a dog park, and I didn’t even know those could be open at night but—”

“No, angel.” He’s stopped hugging you, an unpleasant development, one of his hands leaving your neck to hold your cheek. “What’s that on your face?”

“Hm?” You don’t remember anything getting on your face. “I dunno. Jamie, I’m trying to tell you about the puppies.”

“Just hold on, darling, sorry. Is that a bruise?”

“What?” Sirius is in front of you before you know what’s happened. Vampire-fast, you think fascinatedly, wondering if he’d have been a streak across your vision had you bothered to look. Though, to be fair, your vision is generally streaky at the moment. He takes your chin in his hand, tilting it up and to the side. “Remus, point your light here.”

There’s a low creaking as Remus adjusts his reading lamp, and then you’re squeezing your eyes shut.

“Jesus, what the hell?”

Remus curses softly, and you squint to see him leaning closer to you. Your boyfriends’ faces crowd your vision like a three-headed monster.

“Baby,” Sirius says, sounding heartbroken, “what happened?”

“I don’t—can you move the light away?”

More creaking, and you can see again. You blink, eyes watery, and Sirius lays a painstakingly gentle thumb over the skin beneath your eye.

“It must be bad if it’s already bruising,” he says.

Remus stands. “Then we should put ice on it.”

You pout as he disappears into the kitchen, but Sirius recaptures your attention by turning your face toward his.

“I need you to think.” He fixes his stare on yours gravely. His eyes are the color of the moon reflecting off water. You try to tell him so, but his frown doesn’t abate. “Listen,” he says, “what happened to hurt your eye? You have to remember.”

You purse your lips, shaking your head at him. “I feel like I’d know if something happened,” you say self-assuredly. “It’s probably just makeup. Can you get me a wipe?”

“Angel.” James’ eyebrows have hooked upwards in the middle. He’s looking uncharacteristically serious, too. Your boyfriends are really not being a ton of fun tonight, you think. “It’s all red and purple. You can’t tell me that doesn’t hurt, babydoll.”

You shrug. That may be so. But if it doesn’t hurt, who really cares?

Sirius gets up just as Remus comes back with what looks like a balled-up dish towel. He passes it to you with a tender look on his face.

“Put this on your eye, honey,” he says. Then, “Sirius, love, where are you going?”

“To call Evans.”

You touch the cloth to your eye, but it’s freezing cold, and you opt to let it rest in your lap instead.

“She won’t even be home yet,” Remus argues. “And what do you think you’ll accomplish if you do get ahold of her? She can’t tell us anything now that she won’t still know in the morning.”

“What if somebody did this to her? If Evans saw, I want to know about it tonight.”

“Don’t you think,” James says, “that if someone hit her, the girls would’ve come in and told us?” You lean against his side, and he wraps an arm around you automatically, rubbing your shoulder. He smells like strawberries and laundry detergent and something ineffably homey. “They wouldn’t have just dropped her off out front.”

“What if no one saw?”

“Then what do you think calling will do, love?”

“I just…I feel like I have to do something. Don’t you?”

You lean your head on James’ shoulder and snuggle into the familiar sounds of your boyfriends’ voices, overlapping and intermingling. You don’t realize they’ve gone quiet until Remus’ hand wraps around yours, and you open your eyes.

“You’ve got to actually hold this on your eye,” he chides lovingly, taking the dish towel from you and pressing it to your face.

The edge of something hard beneath the cloth digs into a tender spot beneath your eye, and you flinch. “Ow.”

Remus’ forehead creases sympathetically. “Sorry.”

But the pain brings another memory out of the fog. You pick your head up as you feel your good eye widen in realization, meeting Sirius’.

He flicks up an eyebrow. “What’re you smiling about?”

“I remember what happened,” you admit, a touch of embarrassment to your tone. And if you hadn’t had everyone’s attention before, you do now.

“What was it?” James rubs your shoulder reassuringly. “You can tell us.”

“It’s…when we were at the dog park, I got distracted.”

Remus’ eyes narrow. “Go on.”

You rub your lips together self-consciously. “I may have walked into a sign. About poop bags.”

James leans away from you to see you better. “Like, a metal sign?”

You nod, and he winces.

“Ouch, lovie.”

“Fucking hell.” Sirius covers his face with both hands, loosing a big breath through the cracks in his palms. Remus reaches back to pats his leg consolingly. “I was ready to go after whoever did that with a tire iron.”

You shrink into the couch cushions. “Sorry.”

“You could still take a tire iron to the sign, I suppose,” James says.

Sirius ignores him, crouching in front of you and taking your face in both hands. Remus lets the cloth drop rather than maneuver around him. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, understand?”

“Yeah,” James agrees, “if you injure yourself in the future, ask for a pen and make a note on your arm or something. Save us the worry.”

You lean forward, pressing a lingering, heartfelt kiss to Sirius’ cheek.

“Thanks for worrying,” you say, and where your lips touched him the skin glows pink.

“You’re taking years of my life, you know,” he says quietly.

Remus chuckles. “Don’t worry. It looks good on you.”

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r3ynah · 4 months

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I just like the idea of Red hood having a medic, that always finds him whenever and wherever.

Like my boy danny, can and will go to different measures, so he can just find the boss of the crime alley alive and well.

Getting hurt? No you aren't, patched him up and forcefully tucked him into bed with a kiss, Getting depressed? No you aren't, Wrapped him in a blanket and just let him read his novels all day and feeding him, Getting kidnap? No you aren't, Cue the corrupted video of Danny breaking in the kidnapper's lair and just freeing Red hood, No blood was shed that night, well not from Red hood that is.

Danny was something else Red hood will tell you if you ever bring up his Medic into a conversation, he would stare at the man with heart eyes as he accompanied him to do random check ups on people under Red hood's care in his civilian persona. Danny may seem weak and brittle but he can give a punch if he really wanted to, He was mysterious but at the same time so open.

Danny was prideful as he wore the medal of being the only one that knows Red hood's real apartment, and the only one that could break in and enter without getting his presence known, just to make sure the crime lord was sleeping and eating properly.

Red hood practically made a joke out of this and would always tell everyone that his medic will be mad, if he isn't in bed by curfew, and he needed to be back at his house by 10:00 sharp or he'll get dragged and thrown, who knew the all so scary crime lord had a bedtime, criminals and civilians often leave him be when the clock strikes 9:50 pm afraid of enraging the meta medic.

"I am telling you B, I can't do that right now, its almost my curfew." Red hood sighed in frustration, he was currently standing in the middle of the bat cave, ready to run if batman tried to talk again.

"This is an important, case Hood, and it requires your participation" Batman stood still, face devoid of any emotions " Afterall it has something to do, with crime alley, there has been a meta spotted, and its creating havoc all around the place."

Jason, blinked, blinked twice, then thrice

"Is that it?"

"Jason, can't you see that this person's dangerous, they had already committed several crimes of arson, assault, and destruction of property, this person is abusing it's powers."

"No im not." An offended voice, called out from the side. all head turned towards the source of the voice, only to be greeted by 6'1 tall boy, who had black hair and blue eyes, and looked just round in his younger adult years. "In my defense they deserved it, won't give me a discount when i literally had a coupon." he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Who are you?" Batman asked, his guard up "And how did you get in here?"

"Red hood's medic and the meta you've labeling as dangerous, nice to meet you, and it wasn't that hard to spot this lair if you have x-ray vision" Danny greeted happily offering a handshake, which the dark knight didn't take, Danny retreated his hand in awkward silence.

"That was so sad" Jason cackled, as he pointed at Danny who gave him the middle finger.

"Shut, Its 10:30 pm, your bedtime was like 15 minutes ago, you don't get to talk until you're taller than me." Danny pointed at him.

"Fucking funny, im laughing" Sarcasm was laced in Jason's tone as he glared at Danny, before giving a sigh. "10:30 already shit, time does fly fast, when you're fighting a man in a furry costume" Red hood stated, as he walked towards Danny who only rolled his eyes.

"Bye B, i hope to not see you anytime this week or the next week." He nonchalantly waved bye to the older male, while walking towards his medic.

he turned his head to meet Danny's gaze, then smacked his arm making the man stumble. "Come on, now boss man do your thing"

Danny gave him, a glare before shoving him playfully, he then turned to look at empty air and practically ripped out a dimensional portal out of it, and pushed Jason in it who tripped.

"Bye Mr.Batman, it was nice meeting you" Danny bid farewell as he closed the portal on the Man who looked like he can use a break.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc prompt #dpdc #dead on main #dead on main prompt

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deadghosy · 3 months

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THIS DUO AS CAT!READER X LUCIFER!

prompt: a sinner comes into the hotel not expecting to gain a friend so quickly because of their personality.

Note: you can be like a humanoid cat or just a normal sinner with cat ears and tail.

This man fell in love so fucking QUICKKK

He loves you as you first came or when he first met you in the hotel! Like literally this man after petting KeeKee, wanted to pet you next as your fluffy cat ears flicker at his dumb stare at you. You scoffed and went to husk to who gave you a shot a whiskey before hand.

Now after he started living in the hotel, you better be prepared to have this man clinging to you. It’s like if he is the cat instead of you being the cat in this troupe. Literally Lucifer will always be beside you smiling as he tries to pet you. You just use your hand to smack it away quickly with your reflexes.

How dare he even pet you like a cat and you purr uncontrollably on his lap. 😭💗

I can see you just literally clawing the ceiling because Lucifer tried to spray you with water and you were actually acting demonic as fuck😭 pure red eyes and loud raspy hissing.

If you are shorter than Lucifer, he is most definitely picking you up like a baby, doll, pet, you name it. He dead ass would try to flirt with you or just want you to praise his duck making and his building skills. Would wrap his arm(s) around your waist while you bear your teeth at him. Yeah you scratched him, but it’s definitely your love language! 😍 Lucifer had heart eyes as you were forced to tend to the scratches you gave him. Bros whipped, I mean he loves cat, you’re basically like a cat. You two are a match made in hell🤭.

If you are taller than Lucifer, you better pamper him. Cause you being taller makes him feel more attractive to you as he definitely has a thing for taller things. He probably will fly up to your face to get you’re attention, he’s like a love starving puppy wanting to get your longing attention as you are just a cat who has a bitch attitude towards love things. Literally one time you put your foot paw/foot to his damn face as he was trying to pet you. This man will never get tired of your attitude towards him. You probably do pick him up by his coat like a damn kitten with your hand as you stare tired from hearing his yapping.

Imagine how you literally run like a cat because you are faster on all fours so Lucifer will get on your back sometimes for fun and literally holds on tight cause you weren’t playing about being fast as fuck.

Headcannon on you shedding from your tail and Lucifer would happily clean it up so you won’t get scowled. He loves treating you like a baby, but he is the baby.

Back when you were alive, you were homeless. So that made you have a rough cattish look in hell, like a stray cat. But all you knew was how to street fight. Not a professional fighting way. So imagine you fighting some type of hotel guest and they were piss off at how you basically gave them a “dirty look.” They gave you a swing and BOOM BOOM BOOM! You gave that hoe a three piece combo to the face. Literally there was people screaming shocked and people hyping you up. You didn’t hit them as they hit the ground not getting up. But you most definitely dragged that person out by their shirt.

You had one time actually roundhouse kicked Lucifer on accident because it was dark in your room and he wanted to wake you up. Never in Lucifer’s life has he gotten his ass kicked by a sinner before.

I imagine Lucifer gifting you rubber ducks and you just smile a little liking how you are being loved but your heart closed as you think he is just playing with you.

You literally jumped and stretched around the rooftops as Lucifer flies above you finding you amazing. You are like hell hound but a feline as your body is easy to stretch and how you are so flexible.

I headcannon you actually curled your tail would Lucifer’s wrist or waist as Lucifer was going crazy in his head. Like bouncing around mentally as he just looks so calm outside

Imagine how Lucifer found it hot when you cornered him when he annoyed you to the point you pinned him to the wall with a scary expression.

I can see you sometimes just staying silent, scowling people as Lucifer just smiles.

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sunkissed-zegras · 14 days

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𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎, 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓'𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | this is part one, brother's best friend trope! bryce and paige had been best friends since they were kids, and she's never really been close to his little sister, y/n until she transfers to uconn after a tumultuous freshman year.

─ word count | 10k words (holy fuck i'm so sorry)

─ warnings | VERY UNEDITED (just wanted to get this masterpiece out for yall since i've been teasing for a couple months) brother's best friend trope, language, kinda suggestive, couple kisses pretty fluffy, lots of tension, pretty fast-paced, LOTSSSSS of straight up yap, allusions to SA but could be interpreted as something else, drinking/alcohol usage, idk nothing else?

─ ev's notes | this might be straight up trash but this was a request from like early march, i wanted to do it justice and hopefully ???? i did. i'm gonna be honest, i blacked out while writing this and i'm too lazy to edit but hopefully it's good enough for yall!!!!!!!

pls lmk what yall thought!!!!!! i love hearing yalls feedback in my inbox 💘💘 mwah mwah mwah, enjoy!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

"LET'S GO, THAT'S MY BOY!" PAIGE SHOUTS loudly from the stands, earning a few amused glances from others in the bleacher.

Bryce, her best friend, hadn't done anything special but Paige was the ultimate hype-woman. Bryce heard her shout and shot her his signature smirk before focusing back on the game. They'd know each other since middle school ─ and they've been practically inseparable since.

After winning the game by 3 points, Paige walked through the crowd to try and find Bryce. And after searching for a moment, she spotted Bryce talking with a girl outside the locker room and began walking toward them. Before she could tease him, she quickly recognized the familiar face.

"Y/N?" She called out and both of the siblings turned around. Paige was almost shocked at how much you'd grown up. She glanced up and down, taking in your appearance.

"Paige!" Your eyes widened, your lips curving up in a smile as the taller blonde pulled you into a tight hug. "How the hell did you manage to get even taller?"

Paige chuckled as she squeezed you tightly in the embrace. "I guess I just can't help it," she joked, releasing you from the hug but keeping her hands on your shoulders as she looked at you. The last time she saw her sophomore year at UConn and your senior year at Hopkins, which has been almost three years.

After your senior year, your parents moved out to your grandparents house up in Colorado so even during holidays, she didn't see you or your brother anymore.

You grinned, shaking your head in amusement. "Well, you definitely make me feel short," you joked back.

"Well, you are short. Don't know how Brycey here got so tall." Paige teased as you laughed. Paige was shocked at how much you'd changed; your skin was glowing, your hair was longer, you'd gotten your braces off, you finally found your sense of style... She couldn't help but stare.

"Well, I guess he got all the height genes," you joked, playfully poking fun at Bryce's towering stature. "Maybe not the cute genes, though."

That's for sure, Paige thought to herself as she gazed at you. She realized she was staring before she glanced back at Bryce, a laugh escaping her mouth.

"Okay, okay." Bryce rolled his eyes as you joined Paige's laughter. "Me and the boys are gonna go celebrate. You guys down?"

"Well, I'm still trying to unpack-"

Paige cut you off as she spoke for you. "Oh, we're down. You can unpack later, B will help you."

"Wait, what." Bryce looked in between you two as he scoffed.

Paige flashed Bryce a smirk, clearly enjoying the moment. "Yep, you heard right. Consider it a big brother duty."

"I didn't sign up to be her brother." Bryce rolled his eyes playfully but quickly relented as Paige sent him a mocking glare. "Fine, fine whatever."

You chuckled at Paige and Bryce, realizing how much you'd missed their banter. "Looks like I've got myself a brand new big brother," you teased, giving Bryce a playful nudge.

Bryce grinned, shaking his head in amusement. "Lucky you," he replied with a smirk, playfully ruffling your hair.

"Hey! I just got a blowout!"

──

You and Paige sat in a different table than the team, opting for a table without a group of noisy college boys. Neither of you minded though, you finally had the chance to catch up since either of you had seen each other in so long.

"So, how's basketball?" You sipped on your fountain drink as Paige chewed on the pizza, trying to swallow quickly to speak. You let out a laugh at Paige's eagerness to talk about her sport.

"Basketball's been good, really intense this season," Paige replied once she managed to swallow her bite of pizza. "We've been training hard, but it's paying off. We're getting some great wins," she continued, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

You nodded, feeling a surge of pride for Paige. "I know, I've been keeping up with your games. Dad always watches your games and texts us updates on the groupchat, it's so funny."

Paige laughed, your family had always been really supportive of her ─ they'd slowly become her second family. "Dude, that's so funny. He doesn't even like basketball."

"He probably watches more of your games than Bryce's," you quipped with a playful grin, earning a chuckle from Paige.

"Don't let Bryce hear you, he'll kill me." Paige shook her head in amusement as she took another bite of the pizza. "Anyway, how are you liking UConn? Bryce told you'd transferred but you know how my schedule can be-"

"No, Paige, I totally get it." You smiled softly at her, nodding understandingly. "UConn's been great, actually. It's been a big adjustment, but I'm starting to settle in."

"I'm glad you liked it. Honestly, I never knew why you didn't come here in the first place ─ imagine, two of L/N at UConn." She exaggerated as you laughed, finishing up your slice of piece of pizza.

You chuckled at Paige's playful exaggeration, shaking your head in amusement. "I just didn't wanna go too far from home."

Paige understood why you were so scared, she remembers how shy you were when you were a kid. You really kept to yourself, the only reason why people even knew of you was because of your brother, who was a basketball legend. But seeing you now, she's sure no one would believe her.

You carried yourself so much differently, you were so much more well-spoken and confident. But it was a subtle difference, you hadn't changed so drastically to the point where she didn't even recognize you. You had kept all the parts that made you, you and gotten more comfortable in your own skin. You were so alluring to Paige, something about you just made her feel good.

"I get it, but hey. You're here now." Paige grinned as she finally finished up her food. She glanced around the shop before she turned back to you. "Do you wanna go walk around campus? I can show you around, so you know where all cool places are at."

If Paige was being honest, she just wanted to spend some more time alone with you. She convinced herself it was simply because she'd wanted to catch up more, I mean... she hadn't seen you in over two years.

You glanced over at Bryce, he was so engulfed with his friends you were sure he had forgotten you were even here. Plus, you did want to go explore the campus a little more. You snapped your gaze back to Paige, a small smile playing on your face.

"Sure, let's go."

You and Paige got up from the booth and left the shop, out into the cool night air. Despite the late hour, it wasn't completely empty ─ there were a couple people still out. You began walking, the cool air flowing through your hair.

Paige glanced back at you, continuing to analyze you and how much you'd grown up the last year. She'd always been closer to Bryce because they shared so many interests but also because you'd always been very shy and closed off. Up until your sophomore year, she hadn't really talked to you ─ but now, it felt familiar but different all at once.

However, Paige didn't mind one bit. She'd always wanted to be closer to you and now it seemed like the perfect time.

You caught her gaze and mirrored her smile, amusement evident in your expression. "What?"

"What do you mean, what?" She mocked your voice and you shook your head in faux-annoyance. "Can't I look at you? I mean jeez, you... you were always pretty but damn."

You let out a breathless laugh as you rolled your eyes, despite the warm feeling that began to form on your face. Paige had always had the teasing personality but for some reason, it felt different now ─ more personal. Maybe you were just over analyzing it. "Shut up, says you."

"What about me?" Paige teased as her gaze lingered on your face. The cool air did nothing to soothe the awful warm feeling on your face as you scoffed, Paige was such a tease.

You stumbled over your words as Paige laughed, trying to explain yourself. "Well... you know what I mean. You're really pretty."

Paige's laughter softened into a warm smile, and for a moment, the air seemed charged with a new sense of closeness between you. "Aw, thanks, Y/N," she replied, her tone sincere as she reached out to gently nudge your shoulder.

You felt a rush of relief at her response, grateful that she hadn't misinterpreted your awkward attempt at complimenting her. "Yeah, of course," you replied as shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"I mean... you're always teasing me, and now you're all... complimenting me and stuff," you stammered, feeling the weight of Paige's gaze on you.

Paige's expression softened, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Hey, I'm just speaking the truth. You know," she replied, her voice soft and sincere. "When we were in high school I knew, like five guys who had the biggest crushes on you."

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion as you laughed, why would she bring that up? "Really? Well no one ever asked me out," your tone came out amused but there was an underlying hurt to it.

Paige shook her head as she scoffed, "Yeah it's Bryce's fault. He told all the boys if they ever asked you out, he'd break their kneecaps or some shit like that."

You burst into laughter at Paige's remark, the tension dissipating as you realized the absurdity of the situation. "Seriously? Bryce said that?"

Paige nodded, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Oh yeah, he was very protective of you. Said something about not wanting anyone to break your heart or something like that."

"Well, I guess that explains why no one ever asked me out," you replied with a chuckle, feeling a sense of gratitude for your brother's unwavering support. "I don't blame him, the boys on the basketball teams were always sluts."

"Sluts is one way to put it," She laughed at your wording, nudging you playfully. "Looks like you were always off-limits." Paige wet her lips as she kept gazing at you, a smile playing on her lips. You didn't miss the way her tone shifted, her eyes scanning your body.

You couldn't help but notice the change in Paige's demeanor, the way her laughter faded into a more contemplative silence. Her gaze felt almost... lingering, and you couldn't shake the feeling of warmth that spread through you under her scrutiny.

There was something different in the way she looked at you, something that sent a shiver down your spine and made your heart race. As the moment stretched on, you felt a rush of uncertainty wash over you. What was happening between you and Paige? Was it just a fleeting moment of attraction, or something more?

You felt like your mind was racing, you were absolutely insane. You couldn't gather your thoughts as you swallowed.

"Yeah, I guess so," you replied, your voice slightly breathless as you tried to shake off the wave of uncertainty. Paige's playful teasing had taken on a new tone, one that left you feeling both exhilarated and very, very nervous.

Paige's smile widened into a smirk. "So, what about now? Are you still off-limits?" She asked, her voice low and. And before you could respond, she continued. "You know, you've really grown up a lot since high school,"

"Thanks, Paige," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to meet her gaze.

Paige's gaze softened, her gaze lingering on you in a way that made your cheeks flush with heat. "Anytime." She replied, her tone light. "So, where's your dorm?"

You cleared your throat, trying to compose yourself as you gestured in the direction of your dorm. "It's just a couple of blocks from here, Hilltop Halls"" you replied, your voice a little steadier than before.

"Oh shit, me too. How'd you manage that?" Paige laughed as she shook her head in amusement. Those were usually the dorms for student athletes and honors students, and she didn't recall you being either.

You shrugged, a sheepish grin spreading across your face. "Honestly, I have no idea. Just got lucky with the housing assignment, I guess."

Paige raised an eyebrow as she eyed you. "Hmm, mysterious," she teased as she smirked, her tone suggestive. "Maybe you have some hidden talents you haven't told me about."

You burst out laughing, rolling your eyes. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

Paige kept smirking back at you before you nudged her shoulder playfully, she let out a couple chuckles. "Hey, I don't know what you've been up in college. Who knows, you might be a party girl or something."

"Oh shut up," you couldn't hide the smirk as she let out a dramatic gasp.

"You are a party girl! Bad, bad girl Y/N." She tsk'd dramatically as you rolled your eyes. "Does Bryce know you're out here causing trouble?" Paige continued, her voice dripping with mock concern.

You laughed, shaking your head at Paige's exaggerated antics. "Oh please, Bryce doesn't need to know anything,"

Paige smirked, her gaze lingering on you with a playful glint. "Well, then, it'll be our little secret then."

You and Paige arrived at the entrance to Hilltop Halls, walking into the building then up the stairs. "What floor are you on?" Paige's voice rung in the otherwise, pretty dead hallway.

You glanced over at Paige, a smile playing on your lips. "I'm on the third floor," you replied, leading the way up the staircase. "It's not too far."

"Damn, I'm on the fifth floor." She spoke as she followed closely behind you, her footsteps echoing softly on the stairs as you ascended to the third floor. "But I do know someone who lives on this floor."

And right as those words flew out of her mouth, the door on their right opened to reveal a very tired KK. Paige let out a laugh at the coincidence, looking in between you two.

"Well, speak of the devil," Paige remarked with a grin, her eyes dancing with amusement.

KK rubbed her eyes sleepily, a yawn escaping her lips. "Hey, Paige. Who's your friend?" Her lips curved into a tired but otherwise friendly smile.

"It's Bryce's little sister. She just transferred and she lives on this floor," Paige introduced you with a warm smile. "Y/N, meet KK, one of my teammates."

"Oh, Bryce's little sister? What are you doing with his little sister?" KK's smile turned into a smirk as she raised her eyebrows, gazing at Paige knowingly.

"Oh shut up, it's not like that." Paige's face blushed as KK laughed, examining you with a smile. "She's like a sister to me."

KK's smirk widened as she continued to tease Paige. "Uh-huh, sure she is," she replied, her tone laced with amusement.

Paige rolled her eyes, her cheeks flushing slightly as she shot KK a mock glare. "Seriously, KK. Bryce would kill me," she insisted.

"Yeah and you always like a challenge." KK raised her eyebrows before she finally met your gaze "You're a lot prettier than Brycey, I'll tell you that. Nice to meet you, Y/N," her gaze lingered on you longer than Paige liked, sending her a glare (that went unnoticed by you).

You smiled, feeling grateful for the warm welcome from both Paige and KK. "Thanks, KK. It's nice to meet you too," you replied warmly.

Before KK could respond, Paige grabs your arm and flashed you a grin. "Well, it's getting late and Y/N needs her beauty sleep. I'll see you later KK, love you."

Paige's words came out quick as she practically dragged you down the hallway, KK letting out another laugh. "Nice meeting you, KK! See you around," you called out with a smile.

As you guys finally got to your dorm room, Paige gave you a smile. "Sorry 'bout that, KK just likes to tease."

"No worries, Paige. It's all good," you reassured her with a smile, appreciating her protective nature. "She seems really fun."

Paige returned your smile, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Yeah, she is. She means well."

There was a comfortable silence as you gazed at each other for a few moments. Paige was the first to break the eye contact, chucking as her gaze lingered on the door then back to you.

"This was fun," Paige remarked, her voice soft but filled with warmth as she glanced around the hallway. "Let's hang out more, yeah?"

"Yeah." You smiled as your cheeks flushed slightly, nervously chuckling. "Just let me know when, cus I know you're a busy woman."

"I definitely will," she assured you, her tone eager. "And don't worry, I'll make time for you."

You flushed as you gazed back at the blonde. "Thanks, P. Really,"

"Why are you thanking me, I'm your friend. Of course I'm gonna make time for you," Paige scoffed as if it meant nothing at all.

"Well you're a student athlete-"

"So what?" Paige laughed as she shook her. "You have to get inside your room before we talk out here for another hour,"

"Alright, alright, I'm going," you replied with a grin. "Goodnight, Paige,"

"Goodnight."

With a final wave, you entered your dorm room, ready to settle in for the night but you couldn't help but grin. Your cheeks had begun to hurt from how much you'd been laughing, you couldn't remember the last time you'd laughed that hard. And it was all because of a certain blonde.

You shook your head as you sighed at your own thoughts, you needed to relax. That's just how Paige is ─ flirty and a tease, that's all. Nothing more, nothing less.

──

"How was it?" Bryce's voice snapped you back to reality, pulling your attention away from the task at hand. You blinked, lost in thought as you turned to face Bryce.

You and Bryce had been silently sorting through your stuff for the past half hour, both too exhausted (and maybe a little hungover, in Bryce's case) to engage in much conversation.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you turned to face him. "How was what?"

"Hanging out with Paige?" Bryce's voice slightly agitated as he spoke in a matter-of-factly tone.

His question caught you off guard, and you paused for a moment before responding. "Oh, it was good. We caught up and uh, walked around campus," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant despite the butterflies at the mention of the girl you'd been thinking about non-stop for the last 24 hours.

"Turns out she lives a few floors above me," you added with a smile as you kept on sorting through your make-up.

"Oh, wait." Bryce paused as he processed the information, realization striking his expression as he smiled. "Oh, yeah! And the rest of the girl's basketball team, too. That's cool, though now I can just hang out with you for an hour and then Paige, don't have to waste gas or anything."

"You just realized that?" Your voice was amused as you glanced at Bryce, shaking your head in disbelief at your brother's stupidity.

Bryce chuckled, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "Hey, cut me some slack. My brain's still waking up," he replied with a grin. "Why'd you and Paige decide to run off like that. I looked away for two seconds and you were both gone."

"Well, uh..." You didn't know why you were so nervous under Bryce's gaze ─ it wasn't like he was accusing you of anything nor have you done anything wrong. "We just felt left out cus you were with your boys. And we needed some fresh air."

Bryce raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Fresh air, huh?"

"Yeah, you know, just wanted to stretch our legs a bit," you replied with a shrug, hoping to brush off any suspicion.

And as if right on cue, you heard a knock on your door. Before you could call out to whoever it was, the familiar voice spoke up. "It's me, open up."

Bryce dropped the piece of clothing he was folding to open the door for Paige, a smile on his face. You leaned so you could also greet her, a bright smile on your face.

Paige laughed as she took in Bryce's disheveled appearance. "How hungover are you, 1 to 10?"

Bryce just rolled his eyes and opened your door wider so that Paige could enter the room as he walked away to continue the task at hand. "Shut up, Paige."

"Ooo, someone's cranky." Paige's voice was laced with amusement as you began laughing, soon joined by Paige as Bryce glared at the two of you.

Paige chuckled as she stepped into the room, glancing around with curiosity. "So, how's the unpacking going?"

You shrugged, gesturing to the scattered boxes and bags around the room. "We're getting there."

"Well I have something that might help you unwind. We have a kickback at my friend's place, are you two down?" Paige's invitation took you by surprise, but the prospect of unwinding after a long day of unpacking sounded appealing. You glanced over at Bryce, silently gauging his reaction.

"Not tonight, I'm still recovering from last night. And uh... I don't think you should either, you're gonna be hungover as hell." Bryce's voice was filled with concern as he glanced toward you then back at Paige.

Paige just rolled her eyes at his words. "Hey, don't let Brycey over here ruin the good mood. It'll be fun. And B, would I ever let anything bad happen to your little sister?"

Bryce's concern for both of your well-being was evident, but Paige's reassurance seemed to alleviate some of his worries. He sighed, shaking his head in resignation. "Whatever, just don't drink."

"Says you, I'm pretty sure you're still drunk right now." You joked as Paige swallowed a laugh as she exchanged a glance with both you and Bryce.

Bryce just rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Just remember what I said."

Paige waved him off with a grin, turning back to you. "So, what do you say, Y/N? Kickback tonight?"

Your lips curved into a smile as you nodded. "Yes, for sure."

──

The party was going great, it was exactly what you needed after a weekend of just unpacking and settling in. It wasn't as big as you were used to but you were still having fun with Paige and her friends.

However, you did take Bryce's advice and opt out on the drinking, at least for tonight. You didn't wanna make a fool out of yourself in front of all the D1 athletes you were suddenly best friends with.

"Can't believe you're Bryce's little sister," Azzi laughed as she took you in once again. You were so much more put together and very pretty.

You chuckled, feeling a little self-conscious under Azzi's gaze despite her very friendly demeanor. "Yeah, I get that a lot," you replied with a smile, trying to remain modest despite the compliment.

Azzi nudged you playfully. "Well, you'll fit right in with us. Maybe even better than Bryce does," she teased, earning a laugh from Paige.

"He doesn't fit in with us. He fits in with Paige and KK, not us. He's very..." Ice tried to put into words but decided to just shrug, a sheepish smile on her lips. "He's just Bryce. No offense,"

You laughed at Ice's comment, nodding your head in amusement. "None taken. Yeah you're right, Bryce is... well, he's Bryce," you replied, knowing exactly what Ice meant.

Bryce had always been a bit of a character, and while you loved him dearly, you could understand why people might not get along with him.

Azzi laughed, nodding in agreement. "Exactly! But you, on the other hand, you're like... the cool, mysterious sister," she continued with a playful smile, causing the others to laugh and nod in agreement.

Paige grinned, coming to Bryce's defense per usual. "Hey, leave my boy alone. He's just special, okay? So what if he's cocky and kinda annoying."

"You guys don't know how annoying Bryce can get until you've had to share a hotel room with him," you sighed dramatically as you rolled your eyes.

"God bless you, I couldn't imagine." Ice replied with a chuckle, shaking her head in amusement. "I've heard stories from Paige and KK, the one with the toothbrush," she pretended to gag as Azzi laughed.

"It wasn't that bad-" Paige protested as you shushed her dramatically, laughing.

"It's okay, P, you don't have to lie and defend him." You laughed as Paige rolled her eyes, leaning back on the table with a smirk.

"I'm telling him you said that," Paige threatened with a playful grin, raising an eyebrow in mock warning.

You gasped dramatically, pretending to be frightened. "You wouldn't!"

"Yes, yes I would."

"You would not!"

"Yes, I would!"

Before you could reply, you were suddenly pushed slightly into Paige. Her hands instinctively reach to hold you up by your waist as her expression turns into a protective one as she glares up at the person. Not only were you knocked into, their drink had spilled all over your shirt. You felt the cold liquid seep through your shirt as you stumbled, caught off guard by the sudden push.

"Oh shit, I am so sorry." The man's voice rang out as he looked down at you then Paige. "Didn't see you two there," he spoke as he noted Paige's hands on your waist.

You nodded, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your cheeks from both the embarrassment of being pushed and the closeness to Paige. "You're all good, don't worry about it."

Paige's grip on your waist loosened as she stepped back, her eyes scanning you to make sure you weren't hurt. "Watch where you're going next time."

However, the man did not walk away after that. His gaze lingered on you as he slowly wet his lips, a smile on his face. "I've never seen you here. You go to UConn?"

You exchanged a glance with Paige, feeling a bit uncomfortable under the man's intense gaze. "Yeah, just transferred here,"

Paige stepped in, her protective instincts kicking in as she subtly positioned herself between you and the man. "We were just heading to the bathroom to clean up. If you'll excuse us."

The guy didn't budge as he kept his gaze on your figure. "You know where that is? Maybe I can show you ladies."

Paige's expression turned icy as she stepped even closer to you, clearly not amused by the man's persistence. "We'll find it ourselves, thanks."

"Come on, don't be like that. I'm just trying to be friendly." he insisted, his tone taking on a slightly aggressive edge.

Azzi and Ice exchanged glances before Paige's nose flared in anger. "If you don't back up right now, I'm gonna punch you in the nose," her voice was sharp as she eyed him up and down.

He sighed as he pushed his hair back before finally backing off, walking away. Paige's grip never left your arm as she gave Ice and Azzi a thumbs up before leading you to the bathroom. She walked next to you, her hand on the small of your back.

As you reached the bathroom, she closed the door behind you with a sigh. A guilty look crossed her features as she met your gaze in the mirror. "I'm sorry about that, Y/N. That guy was way out of line," she apologized, her voice tinged with frustration.

You met Paige's gaze in the mirror, appreciating her concern. "It's okay, Paige," you assured her, giving her a grateful smile.

Paige returned the smile as she sighed. She grabbed a paper towel then gestured for you to sit on the sink, which you obliged. She wet the paper towel and began cleaning up your shirt that was now soaking wet with beer and God knows what else.

There wasn't much use though, there was no way she was getting it out. But she kept dabbing slowly, catching your gaze every once in a while and giving you a small smile. The moment felt intimidate especially with the close proximity and the gentle touch of her hands on your shirt. You couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your stomach as you watched her, her focused expression softened by the dim lighting of the bathroom.

"So," Paige began as she met your eye. "Tell me more about your party girl era, I bet you lived it up in Minnesota. You were probably the life of the party."

You chuckled softly at Paige's teasing, feeling a slight blush creeping onto your cheeks. "Yeah it was fun for awhile. But y'know... got a bit carried away," your tone slightly changed as you a forced a smile, which didn't go unnoticed by Paige.

Paige noticed the shift in your tone and expression, her playful demeanor softening into one of concern. "Hey, you okay?" she asked gently, her eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.

You sighed, a wave of vulnerability washing over you as you met Paige's gaze. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just... reflecting, I guess," you admitted. "A lot happened at Minnesota, y'know."

You didn't why you were opening up, you hadn't even been drinking that night. It was probably you just needed to talk to someone about it other than your brother or your mom, and Paige was here. She looked confused as she stopped dabbing on your shirt, putting the towel down.

"You wanna talk about it?" Her voice came out soft as she looked into your eyes, and you felt vulnerable but in a good way. You could trust Paige, no matter what.

You hesitated for a moment, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you. But something about Paige's comforting presence encouraged you to open up. "It's just... a lot of stuff happened back there," you began, your voice wavering slightly. "I made some mistakes, got caught up in things I shouldn't have."

Paige nodded in understanding, her hand reaching out to squeeze yours reassuringly. "We all make mistakes, Y/N. It's part of growing up," she reassured you, her tone gentle.

"They're mistakes I can never... undo, you know." You were being cryptic for a reason, you didn't wanna tell her straight up. "It's bad," you whispered as Paige shook her head.

"They can't be that bad, I promise you. As long as you didn't end up in jail, you're fine." Paige joked slightly as you sighed, leaning back slightly. Paige's expression flickered back to serious. "Wait did you?"

"No, no." You shook your head quickly. "Something may have happened at a party and I wasn't totally aware of it happening until the next day, and um... well, I just left after."

Paige put two and two together as her eyes widened, squeezing your hand. "Oh shit, Y/N."

"Yeah," you whispered softly.

"I... I'm so sorry that happened," Paige pulled you into a hug as you leaned into her embrace, feeling a mixture of relief wash over you. Her comforting presence offered solace in a moment of vulnerability, and you were grateful for her understanding.

"It's okay," you murmured, your voice muffled against her shoulder. "I've been trying to put it behind me, but it's been tough."

"Who else knows?" Paige asked as she pulled away slightly to meet your eyes.

"Just Bryce and my parents. And now, you." You paused, feeling a weight lifting off your shoulders as you shared this burden with Paige. "I haven't really talked about it with anyone else. It's just... hard, you know?"

Paige nodded, her expression filled with empathy. "Thank you for trusting me with this," she said softly, her hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face.

You gazed into her eyes for a few seconds before averting your gaze, feeling nervous. "But that wasn't the only reason why I left. The people there sucked, they were so close-minded and like... awful,"

Paige nodded, she understood how it was like because she had grown up in that town. "I don't know how you stayed that long," she joked slightly as your lips began to curve up into a smile.

"Yeah, well, I guess I was just trying to fit in," you replied with a wry smile, though there was a hint of bitterness in your tone. "But it's hard to fit in when you don't even belong there."

Paige's expression softened as she finally put two and two together. "I get it. It's tough when you're surrounded by people who don't understand or accept you for who you are."

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump forming in your throat as you struggled to find the right words. "Yeah, exactly. I mean, it's not like I ever really belonged there anyway," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Paige's gaze held a mixture of understanding and sympathy as she nodded. "Well, you're here now. And you belong here," she reassured you, her tone firm yet gentle. "And if anyone gets that feeling, it's me," she joked as she rose her eyebrows.

You laughed softly as you met her eyes, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "I'm glad you understand the feeling, then."

Paige gazed back at you, a small smile playing on her lips. She was slightly confused but it didn't even matter, her heart was beating so fast she thought it was about burst. As Paige's heart raced, she found herself drawn to you in a way she hadn't fully realized before.

"Yeah," she murmured softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I understand more than you know."

Paige's smile widened slightly, her eyes reflecting a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn't help but feel drawn to her in that moment, your heart fluttering with an unfamiliar sensation.

Before either of you could say anything else, the bathroom door creaked open, interrupting the moment. Ice's voice broke through the quiet atmosphere, pulling you both back to reality.

"Hey, you two still in here?" Ice called out, oblivious to the tension in the air.

Paige cleared her throat, breaking eye contact with you as she turned towards the door. "Yeah, we'll be out in a sec," she called back, her tone casual. "Are you okay with-"

"Yeah, yeah." You responded as you hopped off the sink, grabbing Paige's wrist as you opened the bathroom door. You met Ice's gaze as she noticed the proximity between you two.

Ice's eyebrows raised slightly in curiosity as she took in the scene before her, but she didn't comment on it. Instead, she offered a small smile before turning to lead the way back to where the rest of the group was gathered. Paige pulled you slightly closer as Ice guided you two back to the group, her hand on your waist as she did so.

Her touch seemed to natural, so casual that you didn't even bat an eye. It was as if you both had done this a thousand times before, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Despite the lingering warmth of her touch, you tried to keep your thoughts from straying too far.

──

Hanging out with Paige became a normal occurrence ─ Paige would always come by your dorm after practice, you'd watch a movie or eat dinner together. And on weekends, you were at her dorm playing Fortnite with her friends.

The more time you spent with Paige, the more you found yourself enjoying her company. Whether it was the easy banter between you two or the comfortable silence that sometimes fell between conversations, being with her felt right.

"You headin' to Paige's tonight?" Bryce called out from the kitchen as you entered it.

You nodded as you grabbed a bite of his sandwich, earning a glare from your brother. "Yep, we're probably gonna go out to eat. You wanna come?"

Bryce gave you a skeptical look, a smirk playing on his lips as he shook his head. "Nah, I don't wanna third wheel."

"What do you mean?" You responded as you mimicked his skeptical look, trying to ignore the warmth in your cheek as he gave you another glance. "She's your best friend."

"Yeah and your girlfriend." Bryce joked as you choked out a nervous laugh, immediately diverting your gaze from his and grabbed your purse. Bryce's teasing hit a nerve, causing your cheeks to flush as you tried to maintain your composure.

"Ha ha, very funny," you retorted, hoping to brush off his comment with a casual tone. "We're just really close, you jealous now?"

Bryce raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he ignored your comments. "Sure," he teased, his tone laced with amusement as he watched you squirm slightly under his gaze. "I know you and Paige very well, probably better than you know yourselves-"

"You're so annoying, shut up." You cut him off with a scoff as you began walking toward the door, your cheeks red in embarrassment.

"Hey, I'm just messing with you," he laughed, his tone very amused. "Have fun tonight. And tell Paige I said hi."

"I will, don't worry!''

──

You didn't expect to hear a knock on your door at nearly one in the morning, especially since you had just settled into bed after a long day. Curious, you got up and made your way to the door, wondering who could possibly be visiting at such a late hour.

Opening it, you were surprised to find Paige standing there, exhaustion on her face. "Hey," she greeted softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she sniffled.

She looked up at you with bloodshot eyes before she took in your appearance. "Shit, I'm sorry. Were you asleep-"

"Paige, no it's fine. Are you okay?"

That was all she needed to pull you into a tight embrace, almost knocking the wind out of you. All you did was wrap your arms around her waist as she buried her face in your shoulder, her body trembling slightly. You held her close, feeling her heartbeat against yours, the warmth of her embrace providing some comfort in the darkness of the night.

"It's okay, P," you murmured softly, rubbing her back soothingly as you felt her tension slowly start to ease.

After a few moments, Paige pulled back slightly, gulit on her face. "I'm sorry for showing up like this. I just got home from the game and I didn't realize it was late."

It was slowly adding up as you gave Paige a sympathetic smile. "Don't apologize please, you wanna come in?"

You stepped back to let her in, closing the door behind her as she entered your dorm room. She took a seat on your bed, looking visibly exhausted as she leaned back against the pillows. You followed close behind, leaning back next to her as she sniffled.

"I'm really sorry for waking you up, you were just the first person I thought of." Paige spoke quietly, gulit plaguing her expression. "I shouldn't have, I should've just waited til the morning."

You shook your head gently, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "No, no it's okay. I wasn't even asleep, I swear," you reassured her.

"I know but you have classes tomorrow morning and I should've been-"

"Paige," you interjected sternly as she sighed. "It's okay, I promise. I'm here for you, remember?"

Paige gazed at you as she frowned, feeling the weight of the entire team on her back. She shut her eyes as she sniffled, feeling the tears burn in her eyes as you reassured her. She felt them slowly fall as she sniffled, feeling your gaze soften as you watched her.

"Talk to me, please. Tell me what happened," you whispered gently, reaching out to wipe away her tears with your thumb.

Paige sniffled, leaning into your touch as she let out a shaky breath. "The game went fucking terrible. I played like shit but we kept getting fouled and the ref wouldn't call anything, leaving us at a disadvantage the entire time," she explained, her voice trembling with frustration. "And then, in the last couple minutes, I missed a shot that could've turned the game around. It's like... I let everyone down."

You listened attentively, your heart sinking at the pain evident in Paige's voice. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, P. You're still an amazing player,"

"It just felt like shit, it felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders, and I couldn't handle it," Paige continued as she sniffled again, wiping her tears.

Paige kept venting the entire night and you listened attentively, letting her pour out her heart. Despite the exhaustion you felt, you wanted to be there for Paige like she had done for you multiple times before ─ and of course, you couldn't bear seeing Paige so broken and hurt after a game.

It was around four in the morning when Paige had finally worn herself out, passing out in your bed as you sat beside her, gently stroking her hair as she slept. You couldn't help but feel a deep sense of affection for Paige, admiring her strength and resilience even in moments like these.

You fell asleep a few minutes after her and when she woke up, you were gone, presumably at your lecture. Paige woke up feeling a lot lighter than she had in awhile, knowing that you had been there for her through the night. She glanced around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings of your dorm, feeling a sense of comfort wash over her.

You were such a comfort to her, even the mere thought of you had her smiling. She stayed in your bed for a few minutes, the moments last night replaying in her head; the terrible game and how you had comforted her and let her rant until God knows how late.

Paige didn't know even know where she was going after the game until she had ended up at your doorstep ─ it was subconscious, effortless and almost second nature for her to come to you. The more she thought about you, the more her stomach began flutter and her lips began to curve up into a smile.

Then, her smile dropped. Oh shit, did she like you?

──

"Dude, I told you that was gonna be on the exam, didn't I? Didn't I, P?" Bryce leaned back in his chair before he glanced back at his best friend, who was currently zoning out on her food. "P? Paige, you good?'

"Huh?" Paige finally met his gaze as she nodded, processing his words. "I'm good, sorry uh... what?" She glanced in between Bryce and his teammate, a confused expression on her face.

Bryce sighed as he glared at her. "Oh never mind,"

"Bro, don't never mind me. Come on now, don't act like a twelve year old," Paige mocked as she nudged Bryce playfully with her elbow, earning a groan from her best friend.

Bryce sent her a glare before he continued. "I was just telling him that I said that was gonna be on the exam," he explained as Paige's expression turned more confused. "You don't even know what we're talking about, never mind."

Paige rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, I'm sorry, Professor Bryce, I didn't realize we were having a pop quiz in the middle of Chipotle," she teased, earning a laugh from Bryce's teammate.

Bryce chuckled despite himself. "Very funny, Paige. But you might want to pay attention if you don't want to fail your finals."

"Bro, you can't be talking. Where were you last night?" Paige raised her eyebrows as he opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by Paige. "Yeah, yeah exactly. You're probably drunk right now,"

"Oh my god, shut up," Bryce rolled his eyes as he shook his head, trying to hide a smirk. "I can't say no to pretty girls, you know this."

"Yeah but you say no to me all the time?" Paige's tone came out annoyed as Bryce sent her a glare.

Bryce scoffed, playfully rolling his eyes. "Pretty is stretching it, buddy. Plus, you're not my type..." He gestured to her Nike tech outfit as she shrugged, taking a sip from her fountain drink.

"You got the ugly genes, so..." The words came out of her mouth before she could process them and as she glanced up to meet Bryce's glare, she knew she messed up. Bryce's teammate just laughed, nodding along to Paige's words only to be met with both their glares.

"Says you, bro. You're uglier," Bryce's words came out stammered as Paige's lips turned upward into a cocky smirk.

"That's not what your sister said," she shrugged as his jaw dropped in shock.

Bryce finally found his voice, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "You... you did not just say that," he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

Paige shrugged nonchalantly, taking another sip of her drink. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger," she quipped as she put up her hands in defense.

Bryce's teammate continued to laugh, thoroughly entertained by the exchange. "Man, you two never fail to entertain," he said between laughs.

Despite the initial shock, Bryce couldn't help but chuckle at Paige's boldness. "Alright, alright, you win this round, P," he admitted with a grin. "If only you had a sister, damn it."

Paige just shrugged as she laughed, unable to suppress it any longer. She'd been hanging out too much you to realize how much she actually missed Bryce. However, the new revelation as of this morning made it slightly bittersweet ─ if she began going out with you, everything would change. Would there be anymore banter? Would she have to choose a relationship with you or a friendship with Bryce?

She decided in that moment, she wasn't going to do that to Bryce. He'd been there for her through all her highs and lows, and she couldn't bear to jeopardize their friendship for anything. As much as she might have feelings for you, Paige knew that her bond with Bryce was irreplaceable.

"Hey, P," Bryce's voice interrupted her thoughts, bringing her back to the present moment.

Paige looked up, meeting his gaze with a smile. "Yeah, what's up?"

Bryce smirked as he glanced up from his phone. "You ready to lose at Fortnite later?"

Paige laughed, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. "Oh, it's on. Get ready to get your ass kicked, Brycey boy."

──

The adrenaline from the game was still pumping through Paige's entire body as she walked off the court, feeling like she was on cloud 9. The game had been intense, with both teams giving it their all until the very end. But in the end, it was UConn that came out victorious, thanks in no small part to her incredible performance on the court.

The thrill of victory filled her with an indescribable sense of joy, and she couldn't wipe the smile off her face if she tried and she swore that nothing else could possibly make her happier. Until her gaze met yours, her heart swelling as she read your obnoxious poster.

"No, you fucking didn't," Paige muttered as her grin somehow grew as you laughed.

She recounted the late night conversation where she had told you she's always wanted one of her friends to make a poster for one of her games, and she can't believe you actually had done it for her. In that moment, Paige felt an overwhelming rush of emotions flood through her, filling her heart with warmth and gratitude.

As she made her way over to where you were standing, Paige couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for you. The sight of your familiar smile and the playful look in your eyes made her heart skip a beat, and she couldn't suppress the grin that spread across her face.

"Surprised to see me?" you teased, holding up the poster proudly.

Paige laughed, shaking her head in disbelief as she pulled down the poster so she could embrace you tightly. "Nah, I knew you were here cause I saw your location," she confessed as you laughed. "You're the best, you know that? You made my night,"

"Really? Even after the amazing game you just played?" You smiled, teasing her as you wrapped your arms around her in return.

Paige rolled her eyes, but there was a fondness in her gaze as she looked at you. "Yes, even after the amazing game I just played. You just make everything ten times better, you know that?"

You laughed until you met her gaze, and if this were any other moment, she would have been laughing too. She looked serious though, her eyes scanning your face to take in your reaction.

Paige thought back to lunch with Bryce, how she would never even think about going out his little sister ─ he wouldn't be that mad, right? How could he? You made her feel things she swears she's never felt before, she couldn't ignore the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach or the warmth that spread through her chest.

What if pursuing something more with you ruined the easy dynamic they had? What if it didn't work out and she'd lose both of you? However, all those what if's were thrown out the window as she gazed into your eyes.

"God, you're beautiful." Paige's words came out effortlessly as she pulled you closer. She'd told you plenty of times, but it felt more different now. She was fucking whipped, that's for sure.

You let out a soft laugh at her words, a rush of warmth coursing through your veins. You met her gaze with a mixture of surprise and adoration, her confession caught you off guard.

Paige kept gazing back you, taking in your features as if she were seeing them for the first time, her heart fluttering with excitement. There was something about the way you looked at her, with such warmth and affection, that made her feel like she was the most important person in the world.

In that moment, everything else faded away ─ the doubts, the fears, the uncertainties. Fuck it, she was sure you'd felt the same and if you didn't, she rather that than feel regret.

In an instant, she pushed her lips against yours. You were surprised for a second before you quickly melted into the kiss, the poster falling to the ground as your arms wrapped around her shoulders.

Lost in the heat of the moment, you surrendered to the intoxicating sensation of her lips against yours, the world around you fading into oblivion as you lost yourself in her.

Paige's fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as she deepened the kiss, her lips moving hungrily against yours in a frenzy of desire. Your senses were overwhelmed by the sweet scent of her perfume, and the taste of her lips that sent shivers down your spine.

"Hey, uh Paige?"

You both quickly pulled away as Paige whipped her head toward the voice. Ice and KK were standing there awkwardly as they glanced in between you, embarrassment and amusement on their faces. Paige wiped her lips with the back of her hand as she cleared her throat, sending them a glare as they exchanged glances.

"We just wanted to ask if... uh, you were going to dinner with us?" Ice asked quietly as you avoided their gaze, embarrassment clear in your expression.

"Obviously not, she's gonna be celebrating differently-"

"Shut up, KK." Paige sent her a glare as she giggled, Ice stifling her laughter as Paige looked back at you with a sympathetic smile. "Yeah, we'll go."

We? You smiled softly at the sentiment as KK kept giggling, her laughter echoing in the hallway. Paige glanced at you for affirmation as you nodded slowly, warmth filling her gaze as she nodded back at her friends.

Ice and KK exchanged a knowing look, their amusement evident as they tried to suppress their laughter. "Great! Y'all can come like... whenever. Sorry for interuppting," Ice said, her voice tinged with amusement.

"Are you, really?" Paige mumbled as KK let out another laugh.

"Someone's sassy tonight, ooo." KK joked as her and Ice began walking away, their laughter trailing behind them as they disappeared down the hallway. Paige rolled her eyes playfully at KK's comment, her lips quirking up into a smirk.

"Well, that was unexpected," you remarked with a chuckle.

Paige nodded, a grin spreading across her face. "Yeah, but you know what? I don't even care. I'm just... so happy right now,"

Her enthusiasm was contagious, and you found yourself grinning in response. "Me too," you admitted, unable to hide the warmth in your voice as you met her gaze.

Everything else was put in the back-burner and right now, it was just the two of you. The noise of the hallway, the hustle and bustle of campus life ─ all of it melted away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

After dinner, Paige drove you back to your dorm since it wasn't too far from the restaurant. It went well, you were pretty much friends with the entire team and it felt like your own special night too. And in some ways, it was. Paige's hands didn't leave your body the entire night, it was obvious something had shifted in the dynamic ─ however, it wasn't too much of a difference since she'd always been touchy with you.

As Paige parked the car outside your dorm, the atmosphere between you was charged with a new sense of intimacy. You lingered for a moment, neither of you eager to end the evening just yet.

"Thank you for tonight," you said, breaking the silence that had settled between you. "It was really fun."

Paige smiled warmly, her eyes shining with affection. "No, thank you," she replied softly. "For being you, for being here with me, for everything."

You felt a rush of warmth flood through you at her words, a sense of gratitude for the connection you shared with her. In that moment, you realized just how much Paige meant to you, how much her presence brightened your life in ways you couldn't even begin to describe. And how you couldn't even imagine a time when you weren't close with her, where she wasn't your conscious thought.

Without hesitation, you leaned in closer, your heart pounding with anticipation. Paige mirrored your movements, closing the distance between you until your lips met in a soft kiss.

As you pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, you found yourself lost in Paige's gaze. "I like you,"

You let out a breathless laugh at Paige's words, her kiss still lingering on your lips as you smiled. "Oh really? Couldn't tell,"

"Shut up," Paige laughed as she shook her head, her laughter filling the air with warmth and affection.

"I'm serious," Paige insisted, her expression softening as she gazed at you with unwavering sincerity. "I really do like you, more than I've ever liked anyone before."

You wanted to joke but you just couldn't, your heart beginning to race. "I like you too, P," you admitted, your voice filled with warmth and affection. "More than I ever thought possible."

You left the car after a few more passionate kisses, Paige's mind buzzing with pure excitement. As she began driving out of the parking lot, she felt her phone buzz and she quickly answered it.

"Hey, P, you still coming over to play some Fort?" Bryce's voice echoed through the speaker as her heart dropped. She glanced at the time before cursing under her breathe. "Jeez, did I catch you at a bad time?"

He let out a laugh as Paige joined him awkwardly, "Uh no, just kinda forgot. We just had dinner and I'm kinda tired."

"Bro, I have Redbulls and some beers in the fridge. Unless you're with a girl than you have no excuse," Bryce teased, his voice laced with amusement.

"Fine," Paige mumbled as she shut her eyes for second, before refocusing on the road. "I'll be there in 10,"

"Awesome, can't wait. Wait, can you get some pizza on the way I'm hungry," Bryce yawned as Paige's lips quirked up into an amused smile, shaking her head at her best friend's antics.

"Fatass," she joked before sighing, gulit tugging at her. "Fine, okay. I guess I'll be there a little later then."

"Great, see ya in a bit, P."

As she gathered her thoughts and prepared to head over to Bryce's place, Paige couldn't shake off the nagging feeling of guilt that settled in the pit of her stomach. But for now, she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on being there for his friend and enjoying their time together, just like normal.

She then decided that, what he didn't know couldn't hurt him. Paige found herself more determined to bury those doubts deep down inside. She couldn't risk jeopardizing her friendship with Bryce, not when it meant so much to her. And if keeping her relationship with you a secret was what it took to preserve that bond, then so be it.

──

"Paige," you laughed quietly as her hand kept inching up your thigh, embarrassment in your expression as you sent her a warning glare. Everyone's attention was toward the current basketball game that was happening, but Paige seemed more interested in teasing you than paying attention to her best friend's game.

You couldn't help but squirm uncomfortably in your seat, shooting her a warning glare in a futile attempt to deter her advances. "What? No one's looking," she gave you a smile as you sighed, your heart beginning to beat out of your chest.

Despite your initial annoyance, you couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through you at her touch, the heat of her hand sending shivers down your spine.

"Oh, don't tell me you're nervous. Aww, you're nervous?" Paige's lips were close to your ear, her breath warm against your skin as she teased you.

"I'm not nervous," you protested weakly, though the rapid beating of your heart betrayed your words.

Paige chuckled softly, her hand still resting on your thigh as she leaned in closer, her lips hovering just inches away from yours. "Sure you're not," she whispered, her voice playful and teasing.

Paige swiftly turned her head toward the game before anything else could happen, annoyance filling your veins as you shook your head. Paige was having too much with this whole arrangement ─ practically everyone knew you were a thing at this point (well, with the exception of your brother and her best friend).

Paige loved teasing you, it was a part of what drew you to her. The way she could effortlessly lighten the mood and bring a smile to your face even in the most mundane of moments.

After the game had ended, Paige led you through the crowds as you looked for Bryce. Her hand was clasping yours tightly, not really caring who was looking as you navigated through the crowd.

Finally spotting Bryce amidst the crowd, you felt a surge of relief wash over you. With a smile, Paige led you towards him, her hand naturally pulling you toward him.

"B!" Paige called out, her voice cutting through the noise of the crowd as she waved to get his attention.

Bryce turned towards you, a smile lighting up his face as he caught sight of the two of you approaching. "Jeez, there you are! Took you long enough," he teased, his tone lighthearted as always. His gaze slowly dropped to your hands before you quickly pulled out of her grasp, nervousness etching your features.

"It was a big crowd, she was gonna get lost," Paige spoke quickly, her words tumbling out in an attempt to diffuse the tension. She shot you a reassuring glance, her eyes filled with understanding and empathy.

He looked at you two with a confused expression. "O-kay, whatever. You guys wanna go get food then head home, I'm starving." He looped an arm around both of you, pulling you into a tight embrace as he started leading the way through the crowd.

You and Paige exchanged a quick glance, a silent understanding passing between you as you fell into step beside Bryce. His demeanor helped to lighten the mood, and soon enough, the awkwardness of the earlier moment began to fade away.

After they'd gotten food and dropped you off at your dorm, Paige and Bryce began to walk to her dorm. There was silence between them for the first time in the night and Paige couldn't help but feel

A sense of unease settle in the pit of her stomach. She glanced over at Bryce, noticing the furrowed brow and distant expression on his face. It was clear that he was lost in thought, his mind preoccupied with something weighing on him.

"Hey, you okay?" Paige asked softly, her voice filled with concern as she reached out to gently squeeze Bryce's arm.

Bryce glanced back at Paige with a sigh, his expression turning annoyed. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

Paige looked taken aback as she scoffed, "What do you mean by that?"

Bryce let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair as he averted his gaze. "Bro, I know you and Y/N better than you know yourselves. You're both my family, you think I wouldn't notice you two are hooking up or something? It's kinda insulting, Paige."

The way he said her name made her stomach squeeze in discomfort, and Paige felt a pang of guilt at Bryce's words. "You're angry?"

"Angry isn't the word for it," Bryce sighed, his frustration visibly melting away as he looked back at Paige. "Seeing my sister and my best friend keep something from me isn't fun, like at all."

"I know, Bryce," Paige said earnestly, her gaze filled with remorse. "I'm really sorry. I should have been honest with you from the beginning."

"Did you think I would like, freak out or something?" Bryce's words came out quiet as he studied Paige's expression, searching for some explanation behind her hesitation to confide in him. "Because I wouldn't, Paige. I want you to be happy, you know that."

Paige shook her head, her expression filled with regret. "No, it's not that, Bryce," she replied softly. "I was just... scared, I guess. Scared of how you might react, scared of what it might mean for our friendship."

Bryce sighed, reaching out to give Paige's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, you don't have to be scared, P," he said gently. "Whatever makes you two happy, makes me happy too. It's honestly kinda great, cause like... I've always said that you're my sister and now that you're dating my sister, you're my sister-in-law so basically, we're related."

Paige couldn't help but snort at Bryce's ramble, shaking her head. "We're not dating," the words came out of her mouth before she could really process them.

Bryce's expression turned into surprise. "Wait what? Why not?"

Paige shifted underneath his gaze, uncertainty in her expression. "I guess it was too official, you know? I needed to tell you first, to get your stamp of approval."

"That's kinda thoughtful," Bryce's expression was confused before he smiled. "Alright, okay. I give you permission to ask out my little sister,"

"I never said permission, I said approval. You're making me sound like a pussy, B." Paige joked as Bryce sent her a glare.

"Same thing,"

"Not really," Paige felt his glare on her cheek before she laughed. "Fine, Brycey, you win."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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fortheloveofleon · 11 months

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BABY FEVER

⊱ Pairing: Yandere!Miguel x Reader

⊱ Summary: Miguel misses the joys of being a father. He just wants you to understand the happiness a child can bring — even if he has to make you…

⊱ Contents: 18+, Yandere!Miguel, Mean!Miguel, Dark Content, Baby Trapping, Dubious Consent, Smut, BDSM (Bondage), Rough Sex, Choking, Breeding Kink, Blood Kink, Creampie, Slight Hint to a Mommy Kink At The End

You’re laid up on this lavish bed, sore hands clasped above your head in a pair of metal handcuffs. The tough material is etching into your skin, chafing and nipping each time Miguel thrusts into you.

“‘Guel,” you slur out his name, a shuddery breath escaping as he grinds into you harder, “s’ too much, I-I’m sorry.”

An angry mess towering over you, Miguel scowls at your pathetic begging. Silent but seething, the taller man merely runs his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair, panting as he reaches down to grasp your face with his large hand.

Eyes locking with yours, Miguel draws his slick-stained cock all the way out of your tight cunt, just until his tip remains — then he pushes back in, hard and fast, earning a loud cry from you.

The mix of hurt and pleasure is a dangerous one, a welcomed warning that hums through your body as his speed of his thrusts pick up again.

Miguel doesn’t really care that he might be hurting you right now — quite frankly, he’s hoping you were in a bit of pain.

You deserved it.

You were such a slut, throwing yourself at all the other guys at Headquarters. He should’ve known better than to let other men get that close to you.

But of course — Miguel was insane, and delusional.

You had nothing done nothing of the sort, but only made the innocent mistake at smiling. A mere smile at Peter whilst playing with Mayday was enough to drive Miguel to this state.

He’s always been protective, obsessive, Miguel can’t even deny it.

“Ungrateful. Fucking. Whore,” he hisses, each word enunciated with a heavy surge of his hips — white fangs are bared as he leans in closer to you, breathing out a laugh at your dazed form. Tough hands find a home around your neck, clutching.

The grip is a reminder, a threat of what could always happen.

But it’s for your own good. How could a sweet girl like you survive in a big, bad world like this without him?

Your fingers grasp helplessly at his forearms as black dots speckle your vision. Eyes rolling back into your head, hiccuped moans pulse from you as his shaft slams in and out of you.

“I’m…” you choke out as a familiar syrupy warmth begins to tremor from your lower half, “I-I’m gonna…”

Your sentence is incomplete, stuttering to a close, yet it’s whole to Miguel — he knows what you need. You’re merely a finger stroke away from cumming your fucking brains out.

Miguel latches his mouth onto the side of your bruising neck, sharpness pinching your skin when he finally bites down. A sickening blend of pain and euphoria surges through you.

It’s like you hit Cloud Nine — you’re panting, whimpering, back arching and cunt clenching as your orgasm builds and breaks. Sweet, sweet ecstasy fills every ounce of you, and you can feel it so hard, it’s like you’re choking more from the pleasure than his palms.

A tangy metallic taste coats Miguel’s tongue and he can’t help but moan out with you at the taste. “Ha…mi corazón…”

A throaty chuckle vibrates against your skin as Miguel suckles at the bleeding marks, lips leading to press wet kisses. His thrusts have grown sloppy, greedy as he wants to find his own end.

The length of his cock is barely leaving your cunt, hips rolling rapidly with little rhythm as he grunts and groans.

All he wants is you.

The feeling of his body on yours snaps you of your daze as a daunting realisation comes to mind.

“Wait!” you rasp out, jiggling the cuffs above your head. “Guel, y-you need to pull out.”

Chest heaving, Miguel pauses, cock still buried deep inside you. Posted above, caging you in between his forearms, wordlessly questioning you.

“You’re not…you’re not wearing a condom,” you breathe out quietly, carefully. “You need to pull out.”

Miguel is silent, staring.

His fingers slowly brush away the damp hairs sticking to your face, rubbing his thumb over your plump lips, almost like he’s trying to remember it’s shape through touch alone.

If love had a taste, he thinks, it would be your mouth.

He kisses you, soft and gentle, and you can’t help but melt. Pulling away, Miguel cups your jaw. A ghost of a smile lingers, but refuses to show.

Sometimes, Miguel tries to consider the lengths of his obsession with you — where it stemmed from, how it started. He could never find a straight answer. But there was one undeniable truth.

Miguel is irrevocably in love with you.

He’d only accept death if you were the one holding that knife.

Miguel is in love. But he can’t say it. The last time he showed he was capable of loving something, the universe took it from him.

But he didn’t need to say anything… he could show you.

His voice is low as he shakes his head and speaks, eyes boring into yours. “You, are going to make a great mother.”

And God, the way your eyes widened could’ve killed him right there.

Without warning, he drives into your heat faster than ever, frantic and filled with a purpose once more.

“Miguel, please wait!” you whimper out.

The headboard bangs and creaks, slamming against the wall as fucks you faster than before. Every nerve of yours is aflame, overstimulated from the wave of your orgasm. Your mouth is agape, eyes tearing and Miguel only looks down with hooded eyes, smirking before a chuckle breaks from his throat.

“You’re mine,” he hisses out, hands groping your hips, plunging his cock deeper.

Miguel’s laughter mixes into a moan, soft but spiteful, filling and fucking you until he slams into you one final time, choked groans unravelling as he finally spills into you.

You twitch beneath him in that moment, legs shaking. He shifts, steadying himself so he doesn’t crush you beneath his weight. A few silent seconds pass, filled only with the sounds of your heavy breathing.

Like a cat, Miguel nuzzles into your neck, nipping at your skin before unclasping the cuffs, throwing the metal away. Heavy arms snake around your body, holding you captive once more. He kisses your neck.

“So,” he breathes out, “did I make you feel good…mommy?”

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #marvel fanfic #miguel smut #marvel au #miguel x reader #dark content #miguel o’hara x you #yandere miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel fan fiction #miguel x you #miguel o’hara fanfiction

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captainreecejames · 7 days

Text

Pick Me Up?

Charles Leclerc imagine

summary : the four times Charles picks you up and the one time you pick him up.

pairing : Charles leclerc x fem!reader

I believe there is no mention of YN, but I'm not 100% sure.

word count : 3.5 k

warnings : none that I can think of

note : I only read over this once so if there's spelling errors or other mistakes that's what happened. Next up should either be Logan Sargeant my ex is a footballer or the social media accompanying fic. Anyways, enjoy and me if you like it!!

1. Charles picks you up from a bad date

The date had started fine.

Actually more than fine. He showed up on time, was pleasant to the waitress, and had good manners. Really, he would have even gotten a second date, if he hadn’t brought up Formula 1.

It’s a topic you tend to avoid when meeting new people, as they either tend to know a lot already and want to use you to get to Charles or they don’t know anything and assume that you are using Charles, when they know nothing about your relationship. It was a hassle you learned to shut down before it even began.

But back at the date with Vince, he had brought it up and that’s when things started to go down hill.

Despite your best efforts, when people brought up Formula 1, you grew taller and more focused on the conversation, it’s like a switch flipped. While Charles driving for the best known team certainly helped your interest, everything about the sport was fascinating for you and you couldn’t help but geek out when the topic came up.

Vince noticed your reaction and his casual demeanor turned critical. “You only know about it because you think the drivers are hot.” That had made your smile drop instantly, brows furrowing as you tried to respond. “Probably can’t even name all the teams.” He thinks that stumps you, but you’ve dealt with enough shitty men in this sport, you’re not taking anything more from this wanna-be investor.

“I don’t have to prove my knowledge of F1 to you,” you state, deciding that this dinner is now over.

“Oh, now I know you can’t even name five drivers.” Your frown deepens, picking up your napkin and placing it on the table next to your plate. It had gone down hill so fast, how disappointing.

“Your attempt at insulting me into submission is falling flat.” His eyes are wide at your comment, and he must not have expected you realize his move. You flag the waitress over and she walks quickly back to your table, noticing how you’re not smiling anymore. Seems like this date is a bust, so another twenty note must be added to the jar of bets amongst the staff of this restaurant.

(You and Charles visit the place often as it was the sight of your first job, but also the food and people were lovely, and bringing a first date here was the safest option.)

(So they all knew you and were betting on when the dam breaks and you two admit your feelings for each other.)

You hand Lucille enough money to cover both yours and Vince’s meals, not bothering with the change. Your goal now is to get as far away from Vince as soon as possible. He opens his mouth to say something again, but you are already out of your seat and walking towards the front door, phone calling Charles to pick you up.

He answers on the first ring, always on alert when you go on dates.

(Not because he’s jealous or anything, but because he’s worried about you and needs to make sure that you stay safe. He’s been tempted to bribe the staff of your little restaurant for information during dates after a particularly bad one, but his mom talked him out of it.)

“Ma cherie, is everything alright?” You roll your eyes at his question, just knowing that there’s a smirk on his face right now. He didn’t have a great feeling about Vince, but he wouldn’t say I told you so.

“Can you pick me up please?” You barely need to finish your question before he answers with an ‘of course, I’m already on my way.’

“Need me to stay on the phone?” You glance back at the restaurant, looking in the window to find Vince scrolling away on his phone, oblivious to the movement around him.

“No, focus on the streets. I’ll be fine.” Charles hums his answer and hangs up, leaving you to look busy on the streets of Monte Carlo.

He pulls up not even two minutes later, stopping the car haphazardly in a tow-away zone. You rush to the side, opening the door and shimmying in as fast as you can because even though this is Charles Leclerc’s very recognizable Pista, you don’t want to risk any tickets. While he pulls away you realize how fast he showed up and a question forms on your lips, but he speaks before you have the chance to ask.

“I was only down the road at the marina.” He seems sheepish, like the answer is rehearsed, but you don’t push it because you’re still grateful that he showed up. What would you do without him to pick up after a bad date?

2. Charles picks you cause your car breaks down

This time when you call him should feel less embarrassing than other times, but really it only feels worse. How are you going to admit to him that the car you’ve been saving up for and desperately wanting since you were 7 just crapped out on you before you could even get out of the parking garage? Especially when he advised you against such car. It would be humiliating.

Alas, you made the call, practicing in your mind what you would say to him.

Again, he picks up on the first ring, though this time you’re not sure as to why he answered so fast.

“Is everything alright, ma cherie?” You blush, grateful he can’t see your face.

“I’m stuck,” you exhale, ready to face what ever he has in store for you.

“Stuck?”

“My car won’t start and I’m still at work, everyone else has left and I’m in need of a ride.”

“Okay,” he answers, relief filling you. “I’m leaving the gym with Andrea, I should be there in 15 minutes. Don’t talk to any strangers.”

“Love you too, Charles.” You roll your eyes, hanging up on him and sitting in the drivers seat of your beloved, but broken, car. That’s some good money about to go down the drain for the tow and mechanic fees. As you debate calling your dad to help you out with diagnosing what’s wrong with the car, a familiar rumble enters the garage, and you see the ever famous Pista pulling up next to you, a smirking Charles in the driver’s seat.

“Someone call for a pick up?” You want to roll your eyes at him, but the smile on his face makes the irritation melt away. After a long day at work, made even longer because your stupid car that you really wanted wouldn’t start, all you feel is relief and affection for the man in front of you, and it’s a little too overwhelming.

Tears pool in your eyes and Charles frowns, cutting the engine and climbing out so he can hug you. He only admits it to his mother, but holding you is just as good a driving when he’s driving on the track with a car that responds to his every command.

(And what he won’t admit to anyone is that if holding you feels like that, then kissing you must feel like he’s just won a world championship.)

“Ma cherie,” he whispers, pulling your body into his own and stroking your hair to soothe you. He doesn’t ask any questions, which you’re grateful for, you don’t actually know what’s wrong other than everything is just too much and him showing up makes you feel safe enough to let it all out.

When you’ve finally slowed your breathing and made yourself relax he pulls away, looking at you with so much love in his eyes that you’re not sure if you’re dreaming. “Now you know what it felt like to drive under Binnotto.”

The comment is a shock and it makes you snort, which is what Charles was going for. Your laugh that he thinks could make him smile even in the darkest moods. “You can’t say that Mr. Ferrari.” You smack his chest while shaking your head, but the rueful smile on your face tells him that you still haven’t gotten over the team principle screwing him over.

Then the smile eases into something much more natural, and he knows the tense moment has passed. “Takeout?” he suggests, ushering you to the passenger side of his car. You nod at him and he’s pretty sure that he would do anything to make you smile.

3. Charles picks you up for a spontaneous lunch date

The next day it’s he who calls you, but you still an answer on the first ring.

(You’ve dedicated a Måneskin song as his ringtone so you always know when he’s calling)

(He made your ringtone a Mika song after you dragged him to a concert)

“Charles,” you answer, confusion in your tone.

“Ma cherie!” he sounds excited and you can’t help but want to follow him anywhere he goes when he sounds like that.

“Is everything alright?” You ask it this time, because shouldn’t he be packing for a race now?

“I’m outside, we’re going to spend the day on the water.” After leaving your home last night, Charles decided that you needed a pick me up, and what better way but to spend a few hours lounging around on his yacht, soaking up the sun and enjoying each other’s company.

(No one else would be there, but this wasn’t a date.)

(Seriously Arthur, it wasn’t a date.)

You spare a glance around your room, laundry begging to be done and dishes waiting to be washed. Yeah, you could use a day away from chores.

“Let me grab a bag,” you tell him, already throwing more clothes around the room in search of your favorite bathing suit. He hums through the speaker and you put your phone down to keep searching for the bathing suit. It was your favorite red crossover one piece and you be damned if you didn’t wear it today, anything to manifest a Ferrari win.

When you finally manage to find it, in the pile of clean but not put away laundry, you pick your phone back up and tell Charles you’ll be right down.

In two minutes you’re out the door of apartment, eyes landing on Charles leaning against his car. He looks so handsome with the windswept hair and Ray-bans on, you really have to wonder why he’s spending the afternoon with you and not some model he met in a garage.

(He’d say it’s because it’s the weekend before a race and this is a tradition, spending the afternoon with you before he leaves is the only way to ward off bad luck.)

(Seriously, before the Netherlands race last year you'd been unable to make it because of a bad cold and he had to retire the car that race, so safe to say you were forced to the boat, or his apartment, or he came over before the plane every time after that.)

Maybe the question is what would he do without you?

4. Charles picks you up from a girl’s night

This time Charles doesn’t pick up on the first ring, in fact, he barely makes it to the phone in time to answer. That’s because it’s not you who is calling, but rather a friend.

You and few girl friends had decided on a girls night out for one of them going through a bad break up, but after a few pregame shots and then drinks at this club, you were pretty intoxicated.

Looking for your group after coming back from the bathroom and the bar, you had spotted Lando and Max across the room, which made you think about Charles.

(Not that he ever really left your mind.)

And when you think about Charles, you wonder where he is, so you went to your friends. Both their faces lit up when they saw you, indicating that they were also not sober. After a quick hug for both of them you turn to survey the rest of the bar, looking for your Monagasque.

“He’s not here!” shouts Max, trying to be heard over the noise. Your shoulders drop, turning back to the two racers with a pout on your lips.

“Where is he?” you ask, trying to seem nonchalant, but drunk you can’t hide her feelings as easily as sober you.

(Many would argue that sober you can’t hide her feelings easily either, but all that matters is that Charles doesn’t find out. And since he’s too occupied in hiding his also obvious feelings, you’re both oblivious to the other’s pining.)

Lando says that Charles stayed at home, something about playing the piano and having an early night was more tempting than drinks. The real reason being that if Charles went out he would not have been able to stop thinking about you and your potential suitors, which would lead to him drinking to forget. He was not up for another heartbreak hangover.

Your eyes light up at the mention of Charles playing the piano, sitting down in the booth with them. “Oh! I bet it’s going to sound wonderful!” Both drivers roll their eyes, and to their disappointment, you’re not drunk enough to miss it. “You don’t like his music?” The accusation in your tone makes them readjust their face. It’s not that they don’t like his compositions, it’s just that when Charles explains them, it’s almost always about how you looked on a certain day and he just was so inspired he had to put something down. They’re really tired of the back and forth between you too.

You begin your speech on how talented Charles is at the piano, which then morphs into how talented he is as a driver, and then as a person. It all turns into a ramble about how proud you are of him, something they’ve all heard before.

When you’ve somehow made it to Leo and how Charles chose the perfect puppy, the man himself shows up.

“Ma cherie,” he interjects, placing a hand on your shoulder to get your attention. You turn towards him, and Max swears that there should be cartoon hearts in your eyes.

“Charles!” you yell, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. “What are you doing here?” You’re slightly too loud for being in his arms, but he doesn’t care if you yell his ear off, it’s still you.

“Max said you were ready to come home.” Your brows furrow at that, because you don’t remember ever saying that, or even Max disappearing to call Charles, but you can’t be mad at him showing up.

“One more drink?” you ask, eyes pleading with him. Charles shakes his head, he can feel how much he’s supporting your weight even while sitting and knows that any more alcohol will likely end with you tripping over yourself.

“Water,” he answers and you’ve agreed to the words coming out of his mouth because it’s Charles, and he’ll never steer you wrong.

Charles heads to the bar to grab a water, running into your group of friends there. He tells them your status and that’ll he’ll be taking you home after this drink. They all nod along, most of them predicting that the night would end like this: Charles showing up and driving you home.

When it’s finally time to leave and Charles has ushered you out of the packed club into his Pista, you remember that you came here with a completely different group. “The girls!”

“Don’t worry, ma cherie, I saw them before we left and told them I’d take you home.” The gentle smile on his face is enough to put one on yours. Where would you be without him, indeed.

+ 1. You pick Charles up from the airport

You’ve got a new car now, thanks to Charles, and since he needs to be picked up from the airport, you’ve decided to take it for a nice spin. The roads are relatively clear for the drive, and you’re there in the usual 30 minutes. That makes you early for Charles, but you take the time to work out what you’re going to say to him.

Before you get out of the car you text him your location, so that he can head right out and find you, rather than you going into the terminal to look for him. He always was better at finding you.

The last night out had not only ended with Charles taking you home, but with a revelation. You couldn’t keep living like this. Loving him so much and not telling him was suffocating. It made you feel like you were on the edge of a cliff with nothing to keep you safe, and you were tired of it. So the question was, how did you tell him.

“Charles, I’ve been in love with you for ages,” you said, but shook your head. That didn’t sound right.

“Charles, I have to tell you something really important. I think I’m in love with you.” No, you shook your head again and groaned. “I don’t think I’m in love with him, I know I am.”

“Charles, you’re the most important person in my life, I don’t know what I’d do with out you.” Okay, solid start, you might have something with that.

“Charles light of my life.” No. “That’s too cheesy.”

“God, I wish I could put into words how much you mean to me. I love you so much I don’t know what to do with myself most of the time. It’s like I need to feel you to be able to breathe properly. All I really ever need is for you to look and smile at me and I’ll know that everything will be alright. I can get through anything with you there. If you love someone else it would break my heart, but knowing that you’re happy is all I need to be okay. I’d live with the thought of you loving someone else, because if they made you as happy and good as I feel, then there’s nothing more I could ask for.” Yeah, that sounded-

“Well it’s a good thing I love you too.”

You screamed, turning around to see Charles behind you in all his glory. Black sweatshirt and baggy jeans, hair messy like he ran his hand through it multiple times.

“How long have you been there?” you asked, face turning red enough to rival Ferrari.

“At Charles, light of my life.” He shrugged, like you hadn’t just bared your soul out to him. “Though, I disagree, it’s not too cheesy.” Could you get any redder? Feels like this is as red as a human being could get before self-combusting.

He’s just standing there, with a dopey smile on his face that you want to kiss, but you can’t. Something is holding you to the spot. You force yourself to say something. “Can you say something else?”

“Like what?”

“Anything else, I feel like I’m going to explode if you don’t say something.”

“Thanks for coming to pick me up.” He adds a shrug to the end and you narrow your eyes.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Oh, you want me to say that I love you too.”

“I don’t want you to say it if you don’t mean it.” If you were a kid you’d add a stomp to the end, as if you were throwing a temper tantrum. He furrows his brow like he’s confused and still you want to kiss him senseless.

“Well, I mean it.”

Now you’re the one confused. “What?”

“I love you too, and I don’t think I’d be okay if you loved someone else as much as I love you. Because I’m selfish and a terrible man and I want you all to myself.” He shakes his head. “I need you all to myself,” he corrects. “You’re the love of my life and if I wasn’t yours then I don’t think I could go on. But you said you do love me, so everything is so much easier now.” Each sentence is punctuated with a step closer, until he’s just a few inches from you, like he needs you to take the last step. You do, without hesitation, because you really would do anything for him.

Eyes glancing at his lips and back, you catch him doing the same thing. “I love you more than anything in this world. I’d give up racing if you asked, I do anything for you.”

Another glance at his lips. “I’d never ask that of you, Charles. But, I love you too, and I’d do anything for you.” His smile at those words would normally catch you off guard, like you’d stop breathing at it, but somehow it just makes everything easier right now. So you kiss him.

Leaning forward those last few inches to grab his shoulders and pull him down so you can kiss him with as much love as you can muster. If words can’t explain how much you love him then maybe kissing him will convey it. That you love him more than words, actions and thoughts can combine. You love him.

(And he loves you.)

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #Charles leclerc x fem!reader #Charles leclerc smau #formula 1 #formula 1 smau #formula 1 imagine #my stories #read #my writings

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fangirl-dot-com · 3 months

Text

Chapter 24 - Loving Her was Red and Navy

Guys...it's time

“And that is p-”

Your eyebrows scrunched as you couldn’t hear the rest of what Mitch had said on the radio. You pressed the button down, hoping to try to hear it once again. You had just completed your final quali lap for the Italian Grand Prix. It was definitely fast, but they don’t call it the Temple of Speed for nothing.

“I’m sorry Mitch, the radio went out. What is my position?”

“P-”

The radio scratched even worse than before.

You pressed the button again.

“P what? Mitch I’m sorry, I legit cannot understand you. I’ll see you in the garage?”

The radio just kept crackling after that. You drove your car around the track once again before heading to the pits. Outside, you could see all the mechanics jumping up and down and the engineers hugging each other as your car got closer.

Did Max get pole? You questioned to yourself.

You guessed that they were super happy for not letting Ferrari be front row? You just wished you knew where you were starting today. Your car was parked and led into the garage. Multiple people were patting your helmet as you sat there, deactivating the steering wheel.

Did you get P2? That had to be it.

Once you were out of the car, you took your helmet off, eyebrows still scrunched as everyone was congratulating you. It was starting to weird you out, so you stepped out of the garage, trying to find your teammate.

However, you passed by George and Lewis first. The taller Briton was smiling widely at you, which made your eyebrows pinch even more.

George clapped you on the shoulder. “Great job out there! Congrats!”

“So proud. You’re going to do great,” Lewis said as he gave you a side hug.

“Uh, thank you?”

You kept walking, trying to find Max, or maybe even Charles.

Your wish was granted as you found the Dutchman and Monégasque, along with both papaya drivers. Their eyes were wide as you got closer. Lando almost bulldozed you over in a giant hug. Your hand patted his back as you were stiff, still not knowing what the hell was going on.

Once Lando let you go, Max brought you into a side hug. Your hand patted his back in congrats.

“Good job for pole mate.” You sipped your water.

The four around you went eerily quiet. Your head cocked, looking around.

“Everyone ok?”

Your eyes flitted around the pit, while the men just stared. Your phone buzzed, but you only looked at the time and not the multiple posts and tags from Instagram and every other social media you had.

Your eyes were still glued to the phone when you asked, “Can someone tell me what position I’m in? The radio on my car was super scratchy and I couldn’t hear Mitch.”

Max was about to respond, but a random interviewer came up to the five of you. The group put on their camera smiles as the man began to ask the drivers questions. You were confused when the man didn’t ask anything about pole to Max when he brought up tomorrow’s race. Well, that was, until he turned to you.

“How does it feel to have you first pole position?”

The mic was shoved in your direction. Your face went blank and the world went silent.

“What?”

The man kind of rolled his eyes. “You have just become the youngest pole sitter in Formula 1 history. How are you feeling right now?”

Your eyes widened as you took in the question. You were now hyper aware of Max’s hand on your back, where he had left it after your side hug.

“Uh, great?”

The men around you snickered. You looked around, even more confused.

“This is actually the first I’m hearing about this,” you continued, “I thought that Max was on pole.”

The man let out a small laugh before thanking you for your time. Your eyes were still wide as Max led you back to the garage, where the cheers got even louder. A second water was placed in your hands as you got closer to Mitch.

She turned to you once she noticed you were back and brought you into a big hug. You started laughing as you squeezed her tightly.

“What’s with the giggles?” she asked, trying not to laugh herself.

“I thought Max was on pole. My radio was super scratchy and I couldn’t hear you. Some random journalist was the one to tell me!” you exclaimed over the celebrations in the garage.

Vito came to you next and brought you into a side hug. You inhaled deeply as his arms enveloped you in a safe space.

You whispered, “I did it. I really did it.”

His hand came up to ruffle your hair. “Always knew you could kid. Always.”

Next was Christian who, like Vito, bear hugged you. He patted your head during the hug. You sighed contently in his arms.

“Is it nap time now?” you questioned, making everyone laugh.

Christian spoke up. “We have debrief and then you can go back to the hotel to sleep. I think there’s a surprise for you.”

Now that did it. Your leg bounced up and down the entire meeting. You mentally tried to will Christian to hurry up, but he kept on going. The minute the meeting was done, you bolted out of your seat.

Sadly, your car was being transported for tomorrow, so you couldn’t go very fast. And besides, you had taken an uber, thinking that they would have gone much faster. Yet, their version of fast was nowhere near your version. When the car finally stopped, you quickly thanked the driver and threw some money at him, not even waiting for the change.

The elevator also thought it would be good to give you a lesson in patience as well, as someone before you had pressed all the buttons – making you stop on every floor. You groaned as it stopped once more at the floor below yours. The moment the door opened up to your floor, you all but ran down to your room.

Your key card almost fell out of your hands as you were trying to get the door open. It flew wide as you finally got the thing to work. You ran to the empty room. Your eyebrows pinched for what felt like the thousandth time that day. Your eyes flitted around, but didn’t land on anything special.

“Maybe Christian got it wrong?” you asked yourself as you jumped on the bed, face forward.

What or who you failed to notice was a lanky Monegasque creeping out of your closet. Arthur watched as you deeply inhaled into the pillows, eyes fluttering shut. He almost felt bad for what he was about to do.

Key word: almost.

He quietly inhaled before launching onto the bed. A scream left your lips at the arrival of unneeded body weight on you. Your went stiff as your mind raced. This was it. Some crazy fan had gotten into your room somehow and was about to strangle you. Your arms flailed as you tried to hit the intruder.

Except, you stopped once you heard a familiar laugh. You gasped as you rolled over to find you boyfriend’s face in yours. The two of you looked at each other for a bit, gasping for air (you from holding your breath and him from laughing so much).

Arthur suddenly dipped his head, going in for a kiss. Yet, you had other plans.

You smacked his face. Arthur froze as he was halfway down, lips still puckered.

“Well that hurt.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Sorry for thinking I was about to be killed Thur. That wasn’t nice,” you whined. “And I was about to sleep and now I’m not tired anymore.”

Arthur smirked. “Maybe I can make you tired another way?”

Hit.

“I deserved that.”

You scoffed. “Max is right in the room next to us. He would hang me if he heard.”

Arthur huffed before putting his full weight on you, face in your neck. You let out a soft oof as the air was a bit knocked out of you. Your arms came up and wrapped around his neck. The two of you basked in each other’s presence for a bit, before a soft kiss was placed on your neck.

You whispered, “No marks please.”

You felt his lips trail up until they hit the bottom of where you ear was. A soft gasp left your lips as he kissed from there to your lips. His hands started rubbing at your sides and he finally placed his lips on yours.

Your mouth opened just a bit, letting him in. Your hands made their way to his hair, fingers bunching the dirty blond strands. Arthur let out a please groan at the motion, which made him kiss you a bit harder. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he kept pressing his body onto yours, the pressure making a whine escape from your throat.

The two of you had to part for a breath, but only for a second until you placed your lips back on his. His hands wandered up your torso, now exploring under your shirt. His lips were firmly on yours as he pressed into you harder.

A loud moan escaped from under his lips, making him smirk into the kiss.

When Arthur finally deemed you more relaxed, he leaned back, watching you gasp for air. Your head rested against the pillow as Arthur slid next to you. He arms were still wrapped around your middle.

He gave one more kiss to your neck, before whispering, “My pole sitter. I’m so proud of you.”

Your eyes began to flutter shut, mind sinking into a deep sleep.

Sunday morning came too quickly. Arthur had to almost drag you out of bed. That almost was an understatement: he did drag you out of bed.

You had picked out a nice gray pant suit for today, something that Mitch had given you as a present. You had always loved all of her pant suits and tried to complement her whenever you could.

Your phone buzzed with a notification that your car had arrived safely and it was waiting for you, and Arthur outside. Max wanted to come with you, but it was a hyper car and it only two seats. With your sunnies on, you stepped out of the hotel. Thankfully, there weren’t any fans waiting for the two of you.

The V12 engine roared to life as you started the car up. You made sure that Arthur had on the seatbelt before you even started to move. The car came with two headsets so that you and the passenger could talk to each other.

“Did you know that this is my first time driving this car on the road?”

“What?”

You didn’t answer him and kept on driving. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him grip the sides even more. You giggled as you continued through the Italian streets. At stop lights, people seemed to scramble for their phones, wanting to take pictures.

You revved the engine as you got close to the paddock. The car was definitely loud and turned a lot of heads. Yet, people really couldn’t see who was in the car.

A big group of the drivers were waiting for you and Arthur at the entrance before they went in. Charles’s head was the first to whip around at the sound of a Ferrari V12 engine.

Lewis let out a loud whistle as the orange spaceship came closer. Lando and Oscar’s mouths were open wide. Alex and Logan just stood staring.

“Whose car is that?” Carlos questioned, watching the car rev for a few more rounds.

Max stood to the side with a giant smirk on his face. The cameras around them were all pointed to the futuristic car.

Charles cocked his head. “Isn’t that the car that Y/n wanted at some point? Someone should call her and tell her it’s here.”

Max laughed loudly, causing the group to look at him weirdly.

He answered Charles, “Mate I think she already knows.”

His finger came up and pointed at the car, door already opened with you stepping out. Their jaws dropped as Arthur also stepped out, grabbing his and your bags. You waved to the group, only getting half waves in reply. You giggled as you handed someone the key, only trusting a select few to park it.

“Hello boys,” you said as you stepped closer.

They were all silent, eyes still on the car.

“When do I get a ride?” Logan asked first, breaking the silence. An uproar of the rest asking followed after that.

Another giggle escaped your lips as you waved your hands, silencing them.

“So, no matter how today turns out, I’m having a house party down in Capris after the race. Max said we can take his jet. Everyone on the grid is invited, except you know who.”

A smirk formed on your face as you left, scanning your card at the turnstile. The males followed in suit, now excitedly talking about the party.

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing and how are we feeling today? "Uh, great?"

liked by y/n.89, arthur_leclerc, monza_tifosi, lechair, and 309,204 others

y/n.nation I have no words - wow, just wow

losingmy_everlovingmind UM THE CAR? ARTHUR? HELLO??

y/n.89 guys it wasn't my fault, I just didn't know I was on pole - admin how could you

redbullracing it was max's idea maxverstappen1 HEY

charlos4ever guys, Charles win 2024?

rookie_on_top nah Y/n win 2024 y/n&co here here

f1 lets go racing!

The red and yellow crowd roared as you walked by, waving to everyone. You thought that there would be a lot of booing, but surprisingly there was little to none. The crowds seemed to adore you, just as they adored their Ferrari boys.

At the garage, you had finally found out that Max had gotten P3 in a Ferrari sandwich, namely Charles in P2 and Carlos in P4.

You were nervous as you sat in your Red Bull. This could be it. This could be your winning moment.

Or this could end up like Suzuka. Another win in your grasps and then ripped from your hands.

“Radio check kid?”

“Mitch, I’m scared.”

The older woman frowned as she sat at the pit wall. That didn’t sound like you. Your voice sounded so young and so scared, almost like a toddler who was scared of the dark. Mitch took a deep breath.

“Kid, listen to me. You are so amazing. Your car breathes the same air that you breath. You just need to focus and be one with the car. You have to be speed. Remember, you eat losers for breakfast.”

A small laugh came over the radio, making Mitch smile.

“One winner, nineteen losers. I eat them for breakfast.”

“Go get them kid.”

“And it’s lights out and away we go at the 2024 Italian Grand Prix!”

You focused on your breathing as you flew down the straights and suddenly slowed at the corners. There was a reason that this was one of the hardest tracks. The G-force of the straights into the corners was hell.

Your head felt as though it was being ripped off as you went around the turns. Thankfully, you were still leading by midpoint. You were on a one stop strategy, and you needed to pit soon. However, you got the call for a yellow flag.

“Who was it Mitch?”

“Max clipped a kerb. He’s fine, but the bottom of his car is ripped. We’re taking this flag to pit you, so come on in.”

You heart sank as you thought of your teammate. It was just you now to bring home some points. Your breathing got a little fast as you came to pit, watching the hordes of people with bright red flags. You were able to come out in first place once again. But you were alone this time. Not teammate to help if needed.

A lone bull in a sea of red capes.

Your pace was phenomenal. Every time people thought a driver would catch up to you, you would manage to pull away.

The final lap flag waved and your stomach jumped to your throat. You crisply cut the corners, managing you tyres and car. Only a few more turns to go. You could almost taste it.

Max, along with the rest of the team, were jumping and cheering, willing your car to take you to the end. As the Dutchman watched you get closer and closer, he rushed out of the garage and climbed onto the fence.

“Y/n L/n has the checkered flag in her sights. The world has thrown everything at her, yet she still rises. Today, she joins the elite group of drivers who get to say that they have won a Formula 1 race. The first woman this century to score points, the first woman to step foot on the podium, and the first woman to reach that top pedestal. Her hunger had turned starving, yet she will finally be satiated today.”

Drivers say that when they’re in the car, everything moves in slow motion.

You watched your crew’s arms slowly jest up and down as you approached the line. When your car finally crossed, everything went silent. Your mind was thrown back to your first karting win.

How everyone was silent as you stood on that top step. A tear trickled down your face in your helmet. This time, you knew there wouldn’t be any silence.

The noise would be deafening.

“SHE DNF-ED AT SPA, PODIUMED AT ZANDVOORT, AND WON AT MONZA. Y/N L/N IS THE WINNER OF THE 2024 ITALIAN GRAND PRIX.”

“You’ve done it!” Mitch screamed over the radio. You however, couldn’t understand yourself over your screams. Word vomit just came out of your mouth. Words in English and Italian sputtered out.

“AAHHHH THE HECK. WHAT EVEN! NON POSSO CREDER! AAHHHHHHHH! THANK YOU EVERYONE!”

Being the first one into Parc Ferme was a surreal experience. Normally, you’d be following someone in, but you were the one to lead.

You stayed in your car for just a moment, taking in deep breaths and trying to will the tears away. Yet, they kept on coming. You quickly took your steering wheel off before getting out of the car on the nose. You raised your fists as you stood.

The crowds were roaring and your head was spinning. You placed your fingers on your helmet before raising them up to the bright blue sky.

The two yellow and red clad drivers watched on behind you as you celebrated. If it couldn’t be them, they were glad that it was you.

You jumped down from the nose and immediately ran to the barriers and into your team’s open arms. You felt their hands rain down on your helmet and back in congratulations. In the sea of team, your eyes finally found bright blue ones to the side.

Max had come around the little gate to hug your properly. You all but ran and jumped on him. Your legs lifted around his hips as he hugged you tightly.

The Dutchman could hear your sobs from under your helmet. His large hands gripped you a bit tighter and held you close. Your fingers gripped the back of his Red Bull polo, not wanting to let go. Yet, you knew that you had to, so you slowly slid back down to the floor.

Max looked into your eyes through your visor. His lips were moving, but you couldn’t really tell what he was saying. He gently turned you around in the direction of your team principal. He lightly pushed you toward Christian, and you took that moment to jog over to him.

Much like with Max, you kind of jumped on the Briton, making him pick you up slightly.

“I did it Dad. I’m on the top step.”

Christian barely heard you, but he squeezed you a bit tighter once you said that. He set you back down and helped you get your helmet off. He was met with the sight of tears running down your face and your hair being plastered to your forehead with sweat. He led you over to get weighed and then place your helmet on the number 1 pedestal.

You were quickly interviewed before going to the cooldown room. There you met Charles and Carlos.

The Monegasque was the first one to wrap you in a hug. It was nice, but you really wanted the hug of another Monegasque.

“Siamo cosi orgogliosi di te, ragazzo. Finalmente sul grandino piu alto,” he whispered, before sending you to Carlos.

There was little time in the cooldown room before the three of you were called to the podium. Your hat fit nicely, the number 1 on the side beaming. Carlos went first, then Charles, and then finally you. Your eyes squinted as you met the bright Italian sun.

The crowds cheered below as you stood on the top step. Your tears returned as they played your national anthem. You didn’t try to wipe them this time though.

You let them fall.

The Austrian anthem played after and trophies were handed out.

Once the metal was placed in your hands, you raised it up high. The people closest to you knew the significance of it all. The win in Lorenzo’s home country. Your win for him.

Charles knew all the emotions. He too had won at Monza for his papa and Jules. Pierre down in the crowd let some tears shed as he remembered his time up there, winning for Anthoine. Daniel watched in amazement as you held the trophy high before kissing it lightly. There was a time that he was on that step, clad in orange and blue. You were shining.

The taste of the bubbly had never been sweeter. After spraying Charles and Carlos, and getting theirs dumped all over you, it was your turn to spray your team. You tried to point the spray down at Max and Arthur, who had snuck into the sea of navy. Your boyfriend was currently looking up at you, as if you hung the stars. And right now, the sun was making you glow so hard that he truly believed that you might have.

The celebrations didn’t end after that.

In the group chat that you made, excluding one driver, there was only one message to the drivers. It made them all smirk with excitement.

Grid Queen: airmax leaves at 4 see you all in Capris p.s. bring your girlfriends

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing Y/N L/N IS THE WINNER OF THE 2024 MONZA GRAND PRIX

liked by olliebearman, oscarpiastri, nicorosberg, lewishamilton, and 602,209 others

y/n.nation LETS GOOOOOOOOO

box_box_express what a race - I'm speechless

formulalalala1 FIRST WOMAN TO EVER WIN A FORMULA 1 GRAND PRIX WHAT IS SHE

y/n&co the greatest rookie to ever cross the face of formula 1

y/n.89 I think I'm still crying, thank you admin

redbullracing love you too rookie!

iamred_iamyellow oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh

f1_fan and everyone liked that

y/n.89 has posted (max is second pic)

y/n.89 I really don't know what to say other than thank you. you all have put so much confidence in my and my abilities and I'm thankful that it's finally paying off. To everyone, I love you - let's get this bread

liked by arthur_leclerc, maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, and 509,219 others

landonorris knew you could do it bug!

carlossainz55 ah chica, you did marvelous maxverstappen1 words cannot tell how proud of you I am geitje fernandoalo_official nina, you're going to make me retire early oscarpiastri roo, you've done good danielricciardo welcome to the league darl' lewishamilton you drove oh so well love charles_leclerc gosse, you never cease to surprise me logansargeant lets go champ! knew you could do it georgerussell63 you did it again sweetie alex_albon super duper proud (lily is crying) y/n.89 y'all made me cryyyyyy

author this entire post has my heart

y/n.89 thank you for making it happen

*comments have been limited*

arthur_leclerc has posted

arthur_leclerc loving her was red and navy

liked by y/n.89 and others

*comments have been limited*

Race Results (top 10 + DNF)

Y/n L/n – 26 points (fastest lap)

Charles Leclerc – 18 points

Carlos Sainz – 15 points

Oscar Piastri – 12 points

George Russell – 11 points

Lewis Hamilton – 8 points

Alex Albon – 6 points

Logan Sargeant – 4 points

Daniel Ricciardo – 2 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 1 point

Max Verstappen – DNF

Champions Standings

Max Verstappen – 309 points

Charles Leclerc – 286 points

Y/n L/n – 207 points

Lando Norris – 190 points

Carlos Sainz – 145 points

Oscar Piastri – 130 points

Lewis Hamilton – 113 points

George Russell – 65 points

Alex Albon – 62 points

Fernando Alonso – 45 points

Logan Sargeant – 40 points

Daniel Ricciardo – 25 points

Lance Stroll – 17 points

Valtteri Bottas – 13 points

Pierre Gasly – 12 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 9 points

Zhou Guanyu – 1 point

Nico Hulkenberg

Kevin Magnussen

Esteban Ocon

Constructors Standings

Red Bull – 516 points

Ferrari – 431 points

McLaren – 320 points

Mercedes – 178 points

Williams – 102 points

Aston Martin – 62 points

Alpha Tauri – 34 points

Alpha Romeo – 14 points

Alpine – 12 points

Haas – 0 points

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912 notes · View notes

l0v3tast3 · 1 year

Text

pervy neighbor!toji headcanons !

toji sets his sights on you and just can't look away!

✎ tags: mdni!, smut, female reader, maybe tw for stepcest (toji dates your mom)?, age gap (reader is college age, toji is probably late-30's), kind of dubious consent, infidelity, loss of virginity, unsafe sex, kind of obsessive!toji, pet names, breeding kink, corruption kink, dacryphilia, reader definitely has daddy issues (but no daddy kink)

✎ word count: 5k words (might have gotten a little carried away. but it's proofread!)

✎ author's note: something about jjk characters makes me have the worst, filthiest thoughts i've ever had, but i'm not upset about it. also genuinely surprised that this turned out to be 5k words i thought it would be like 2k max ( 〃▽〃) . . . toji brings out the best and worst in me <3

masterlist | requests

♡ when toji first lays eyes on you, it's sick how fast he starts thinking dirty thoughts. your mother and you are his new neighbors, coming over to say "hi" and introduce yourselves. your mother looked to be around his age, while you looked like you were probably in college (she must have had you when she was young like he had with megumi), but the way you half-hid yourself behind your mom wasn't helping you look any older.

♡ your mom makes you introduce yourself to him and you do so shyly, calling him "mr. zenin", barely making eye contact with the man that was a full head and a half taller than you. he smiles down at you and sticks out his hand, and after a moment you shakily take it, his engulfing yours completely. he could easily pin down both your hands with one of his. hell, he could pin down your whole body with one of his hands. he lingers a little too long, and you retreat a little further behind your mom after he lets go, your face an adorable shade of red.

♡ toji only half-listens to your mother rambling on, mostly just staring at you and being grateful that his shirt was long enough to cover his boner. he tuned in when she talked about how you went to college but still lived with her because it wasn't far. he also listened to when your mother mentioned her job took her across the country or even out of it a lot of the time. oh, so many thoughts were already forming in his head. toji could get quite creative when he wanted to.

♡ he can tell your mom is attracted to him when she juts out her chest and mentions her deadbeat ex-husband more than once. so he exchanges numbers with her and flirts a little. he's a single man, what else is he to do?

♡ toji figures out that, by the grace of god it seems, your bedroom is the one with the window directly across from his, and you don't seem to realize that your pink lace curtains are see-through. it really just kept getting better for him, didn't it? he absolutely watches your silhouette of you changing, watching your little figure take your shirt and shorts off, imagining he was in the room with you. if he were there, he wouldn't have to watch you put on other clothes. he would take off your clothes for you, probably rip them a little too (on accident, of course). he would make sure you didn't put anything on for a good long time, except maybe some cute lingerie. or a collar.

♡ he takes the time to work up to dating your mom. toji's a patient man, he can wait to get his hands on you. distance makes the heart grow fonder, right? and the better he gets to know your mother, the better he gets to know you, too. oh, she raves about you, of course! a model student and such a good girl, never getting into any trouble, always focusing on your schoolwork. you graduated top of your class in high school, and were on track to do the same in college. her baby was basically a genius! toji's heart swelled to hear about just how much of a good girl you were.

♡ it's not long before he's at your dinner table with your mother and you and a wonderful home-cooked meal. the woman that he's supposed to be looking at luckily talks enough that she doesn't realize toji is staring at you the whole time. you practically squirm in your chair under his gaze, hardly saying a word unless you were spoken to. he asks you normal questions, like how's school going, oh you're in your last year? any plans after college? he loves hearing your meek voice stutter out your answers. your mom has to tell you to speak up and you get that cute redness in your cheeks again, raising your voice just the slightest bit. you still called him "mr. zenin", so he tells you to just call him toji. you nod, but you don't actually say his name after that.

♡ at the end of the meal, he of course insists on cleaning up himself, and he's in the kitchen with a grin when he hears your mother telling you to help him clean up. you mumble something he can't hear, and your mom responds with "he is not scary, now go help him!" and he laughs a little. he'll make sure you aren't scared of him for long.

♡ you shuffle in with a few more dirty dishes and place them next to the sink, then look around for something to do before awkwardly picking up a rag and starting to dry what he had already washed. after a little bit of silence, toji strikes up some friendly conversation. "so, are you really liking college? your mom has been telling me all about how well you're doing. she's always talking about how much of a good girl you are," he says. the way your face once again got red was something toji needed to see more often. you seem to stop dead in your tracks and malfunction a bit when he calls you a "good girl", and you stutter something like "uh, yeah, it's- it's been good. she... actually said all that?" he wants to feel how you'll clench around him when he calls you a good girl as you take his thick cock. "yeah, she did," he says with a chuckle. "what? does she not say it to you a lot?" you shake your head no. poor baby, no one was telling you how great of a job you were doing. toji will, though. he'll praise you all night long when you manage to fit all of him inside you.

♡ he starts coming over more after that. he notices that (when asked first) you start telling him more about your achievements in college, like when you ace an exam or your professors write good feedback on your essays. and of course, he's always there to tell you what a great job you did; sometimes he adds in the words "good girl", just for fun. he even starts getting little smiles out of you, tiny at first, but they started spreading to your pretty eyes not too long after. you even start calling him "toji", finally. his name sounds so good coming out of your mouth, he wants to hear you say it while he's got his head shoved between your squishy thighs.

♡ it takes months, months of toji jerking himself off to every filthy thought imaginable about you, months of getting you to warm up to him, months of convincing your mother that he really was into her. it all pays off when the worst storm of the season rolls in. it's around 10pm when your mom calls him from halfway across the country, worried about you because she heard about the storm. apparently, you'll "freak out" if the power goes out. you get paranoid easily, she says. toji tells her not to worry, he'll check on you. he grabs his keys and coat and is knocking on your door within two minutes, albeit drenched in rain water. he sees you peak around the curtain of the window next to the door before you open it, asking him what he was doing here. "your mom asked me to check on you. says you scare easy." she was absolutely right, but you still huffed indignantly.

♡ you let him in, of course, and ask him if he wants a change of clothes. you say your mom probably has some of her ex's old clothes lying around that might fit him. he says sure and asks if he could shower, too. you stutter out a "yeah" and lead him to the bathroom, showing him where the towels and soaps were, accidentally brushing against him in the tight space. he can feel how intense your heartbeat is, just for a second. it makes toji want to smooth his hands all over your body, dig into the knots in your back and make it slow before he raises it even higher. you scurry off to your moms room to find a change of clothes for him.

♡ it takes you awhile to dig out something that might fit him, a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. it takes you so long, in fact, that he's out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around his waist, opening the door just when you're about to leave the clothes on the floor. he thinks your nose might actually start bleeding when you see him shirtless, and it's the cutest thing he's ever seen. part of him thinks it would be funny to just drop the towel, but you scare easy. you hand him the clothes and speed-walk to the living room before he can thank you.

♡ toji gets changed into the t-shirt that clings to his skin and the sweatpants that are loose but will definitely show the imprint of his dick as soon he sits down. luckily, your couch has pillows. he finds you in the living room, your legs curled up to your chest as you look through netflix for something to watch. he plops down right beside you, making sure to grab a pillow for his lap, putting a foot up on the coffee table. you ask him if he's staying, and he says of course, what if the power goes out? do you know how to use the circuit breaker? you say you sort of do. he clicks his tongue and declares he's staying. you just hand him the tv remote and tell him to choose something to watch. you always let him take the lead with everything.

♡ it takes a lot of back and forth of him teasing you for never knowing what to watch and you just repeating "just put on whatever you want!", and when you finally do decide on something, the power goes out. you let out a squeak and instinctively press yourself closer to him, but he's wrapping an arm around you and saying softly that it's alright, it'll come back on soon. he can see your worried expression from the streetlights shining in faintly, and he reaches up to lightly pinch your cheek, muttering that you're so cute like this.

♡ "you think- you think 'm cute?" you ask quietly, and he nods with a smirk. "mhm, think you're adorable. such a pretty girl," he says, leaning in just a little closer. his large hand that takes up half your face is in your hair now, tangling his fingers in it and playing with it a little. you're so warm, heating up the more he touched you. his other hand rubs your back, slowly going lower, inch by inch. he can see his touch having an effect on you, a very, very positive one. your breathing gets a little bit quicker. he can feel your heartbeat through your back.

♡ "think you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen." the hand on your back is coming back up, to your shoulder and grazing past your neck to cup the side of your jaw and stroke his thumb over your soft cheek. "do you not think you're pretty, baby?" you definitely notice the pet name, but you don't say anything about it, just look down and shake your head a little. "oh, princess, can't have that now." he guides your head back up to make you look at him again with wide eyes. "i can show you. you're gonna let me show you how pretty you are, right baby?"

♡ you give a tiny nod and he kisses you, and god, toji is in love with your lips. they're so soft and sweet, and he can't help but move a hand to the back of your neck to pull you in deeper, greedily swallowing the little noises you made. he finds it cute how you struggle to keep up with him, how a whimper escapes you when one of his overly-sharp canines catches your lip. he wants to mark you all over with them, claim every part of your body as his, listen to you yelp when he sinks them in almost too deep.

♡ toji draws away and laughs when you try to follow him, taking in your dazed look, red lips shiny with his and your spit and blown pupils. "aw, sweet girl, you already look so fucked out. haven't even done anything to you yet," he mumbles as he starts kissing down your jaw and around your neck. the pillow is gone and he's picking you up effortlessly to put you on his lap, facing him. he's obsessed with how small you are compared to him. you're trying so hard to hold back more noises, and your hands go to his broad shoulders, as if you were going to push him away (not that it would do anything, he's got an arm wrapped around your back now). but you don't, you just gasp out a whiny "what about my mom and you?" and he draws back a little to look you in the eye, lips hovering just over yours again. "'m just showin' you how pretty you are, baby. she doesn't appreciate you enough, does she? i can, so much better, princess. we can keep it secret, right?" he says, his voice low and rumbling and you look hypnotized.

♡ you nodded a little with an "mhm" and he smiles, kissing you again. he takes his time with you, as agonizing as it is, but he needs to work you open. your mom was going to be gone for another few days still, and he had already waited this long. when he pulled away again he went straight to kissing down the other side of your neck, using his hand still in your hair to move your baggy shirt to expose more skin. he uses the other one around your waist to press you into him a little more and down enough to feel his hard dick through your shorts and his pants. it forces a little gasp out of you and your grip on his shoulders tightens, balling his shirt. "toji, i've never- haven't done this before," you mumble. he knows, of course, he knew it from the start, could practically smell it on you.

♡ "'s okay, princess, i'll go slow. i'll be so gentle with you, promise," he mumbles into your skin, his hands all over your body, in your hair and on your back and your arms and under your breasts, over your stomach. it's almost overwhelming to you. his hands end up grabbing you under your thighs, just below your ass, and you let out a yelp and wrapped your arms around his neck tight when he stands up with you. "c'mon, baby, can't show you how pretty you are in here." he brings you to your room, glad to see there's a little bit of streetlight coming in too here. he sits down on the edge of your cushy bed with you still in his lap, lathering your collarbone with attention.

♡ his hands are rubbing your hips, edging underneath your shirt and pressing you down more and more against his aching cock. "feel how hard you get me, sweet girl? 's cause you're so damn cute," he breathes, and he's so happy when you start shakily grinding down against him, your legs spread so wide by his. he's been waiting for this for so fucking long, and now he's finally in your room, finally inching your shirt over your head for you. toji's scar stretches with his smile when he sees you aren't wearing a bra, and he catches the arm that tries to cover yourself up. "mm-mm, princess, gotta see all of ya." he puts your hand back on his shoulder and uses his to grope the tit he's not sucking and nipping and licking at. your body twitches and a dainty hand goes to his hair, and you're finally moaning for him, whimpering his name when he tugs a little too hard with his teeth.

♡ the power comes back on on it's own just as your nipples are starting to get sore, your fairy lights taped around the edge of the ceiling lighting the room up with a soft glow. toji detaches himself from you and smiles. "can finally fuckin' see ya again, 'bout time," he mumbles, going right back to what he was just doing. you whine and your grip on his hair and shoulder get a little bit tighter, but his hands don't let you move in any direction except closer to him. he keeps going, too busy thinking about how gorgeous your tits will look when they're swollen with milk, how sweet they already are and how much sweeter they will be, until you tug on his hair a little and say his name between sharp breaths. he finally lets up and his hands go to your waist and hips.

♡ he helps guide you while you grind down on him, just taking in how you close your eyes and let out sweet little gasps whenever he bumps your clit through your shorts and underwear. "gonna let me take these off of ya, sweet girl?" he murmurs, his hands massaging your thighs and ass, waiting impatiently for you to nod again before he picks you up again and lays you down on your bed. he's just glad it's a queen size; enough space for him to fuck you most ways he wants.

♡ he follows your shorts and underwear down your legs with his mouth, committing all your embarrassed squeaks to memory. you try to close your legs once he has everything off but of course he doesn't let you. toji's smile doesn't leave his face while he's taking your thighs in his hands to spread them apart, leaving one to smooth a hand over your belly. "prettiest girl i've ever fuckin' seen," he says again, watching his hand go to spread your little pussy apart. his thumb grazes your clit and your hips jerk and he laughs. "so damn sensitive. never had anyone down here, baby, not even to eat this pretty pussy out?" you can't even look at him when you shake your head. if it's possible, his dick gets even harder. "good. dumbass frat boys couldn't ever do it like i can."

♡ once toji finally gets his mouth on your soaked cunt he doesn't think he's capable of stopping. you're practically dripping onto the bed, and he's there to lick every drop up, swallowing it happily and coaxing as much more as he can out of you with his tongue. your body is already writhing, you already have your hands in his hair, you're already crying out for him, and he's in a state of euphoria.

♡ he stops for a moment and you're about to ask what's wrong before he's muttering about how the bed is "too damn short" and you're being dragged down to the edge. your noise of surprise turns into a gasp when he starts sucking on your clit again, now kneeling on the floor. toji throws your legs over his shoulders and holds down the top of one to keep you in place, his other hand coming back to your pussy. his middle finger is slowly sinking into you and he moans into you when he feels how tight you are; his hand is never going to be enough to get himself off after this. when he starts working in a second finger you cum; you can feel it everywhere in you, taking over your body and your head (you think you may get addicted to this, to toji doing this to you).

♡ of course, toji doesn't stop after you've cum once. he gives you a little break, despite being so close to breaking himself. he's so close to letting himself loose on you, so close to digging his fingers in just bit too hard and sinking his teeth in too deep. somehow, he manages to just rub your hips and nip at your inner thighs. you mewl out his name and try to pull him back up to you but he doesn't budge, instead laughing and shaking his head. "not yet, princess, you're still way too tight." he pushes two fingers back in, his mouth hovering back over your clit. "wouldn't want to rip you in half, would we?" you stopped listening the second he started back up on your still-sensitive clit, throwing your head back and grabbing his hair again. "ah-h, toji, wait-!" he wasn't listening either.

♡ he doesn't let up until he makes you cum with three fingers (twice) and you're nearly crying from overstimulation. the only words you seem to be able to form at this point are "toji" and "please", and toji thinks this is his new favorite version of you. eventually, when he runs out of patience and he deems that it won't hurt that much, he finally lets you come down from the high he'd kept you on. he leaves one more mark on your thigh before he stands up to strip himself down quick, releasing a breath of relief when his aching cock is finally freed.

♡ it takes a moment for toji to decide how to take you. in all the months he waited and thought about this, he never could decide on this part. he would have you ride him, if your legs weren't still shaking. he decided to just say "fuck it" and go with missionary; easier to see your cute expressions like that. toji moves you back up the bed and climbs over you, smiling and cooing down at your watery eyes and his favorite shade of red painting your skin. he wraps your legs around your waist and brings his hands to cup your face again.

♡ "aw, what's wrong, baby? you were beggin' me for somethin' just a minute ago, what was it? hm, princess? c'mon, use your words." you mumble out a little "please", and toji shakes his head. "'please' what? you want more, 's that what you're tryin' to say? c'mon baby, tell me you want more," he says, one of his huge hands grabbing your jaw, putting the lightest amount of pressure on it. your eyes widen a bit and you nod, squeaking out a "more, toji, please!" and his cheeks start to hurt from how wide his smile grows.

♡ he took a moment to appreciate the view of his dick resting heavy on your stomach, a before-shot of how deep he'll reach inside of you. his head came to just below your belly button; toji could have came just from that. he notices you're still just looking at him and he takes one of your hands and wraps it around his cock for you, and you finally look down at it. he wishes he could take a picture of your face, it's both hilarious and incredibly cute. "toji, 's not- not gonna fit," you mumble as he moves your hand up and down it. he laughs a little. "we'll make it fit, princess, don't worry." he's gathering both your hands now in one of his and pinning them over your head. "it'll only hurt for a minute, then it'll feel so good, baby, i promise. not gonna want me to ever stop." toji rubs his dick through the folds of your pussy, covering it in your own arousal, his head brushing your clit and making you whine. "all ya gotta do is lay here all pretty and take it for me, you can do that, right baby? i know you can, bein' such a good girl for me." you're melting and practically dripping from his words and he lines his head up to start pushing into you.

♡ your hands squeeze his just about as tight as your tiny pussy does around the head of his cock once it pops in. toji kisses you and moans while you gasp, and he pushes in a little more, and you already feel like this would be enough. he's so thick; his fingers had felt so big to you, but now that just made you feel dumb. he draws back an inch just to push in two more and your legs are tightening around his waist. you're making cute little noises while he pushes your jaw up to mark more of your neck. he's everywhere, surrounding your entire body with his, not giving you an inch to move. you feel him everywhere, inside and out, and he's so deep inside you, and he still has a couple inches to go.

♡ his hips finally meet your thighs and toji thinks he's found heaven. he was so elated to have you how he wanted you, ecstatic that his months of work had finally paid off. he stops sucking on your neck to come nose-to-nose with you, his hold on your jaw loosening so he could thread his hand through your hair. "ohh, fuck, pretty girl, you're doin' so fuckin' good, bein' such a good girl for me," he breathed with a smile and hooded eyes. "does it hurt, princess? 'm sorry, it'll go away soon, baby, i promise. gonna feel so good in a minute. feels so good around me, so much better that i ever thought- shit, baby," he chokes out a moan when you're squeezing even tighter around him and you whine, trying to move your hips to get him to move.

♡ he starts moving, and he swears he tries to go slow, but it admittedly doesn't take long before he's really fucking you. "takin' it like a fuckin' champ, baby, my god. feels so fuckin' good. never leavin' this pussy, fuckin' never, princess. hah, sweet girl, don't squirm so much, how am i supposed to find all your good spots like that? that's it, baby, just take it for me. such a good fucking girl." his mouth gets filthy and it just doesn't stop running while he fucks any air and any thoughts out of your body. he's too deep, there's too much of him but it's so good that you just don't care. it's so much better than you thought it would be, toji makes it so much better than you thought it would be.

♡ you cum before long and he fucks you through it, holding your jaw to keep eye contact with you the entire time, obsessed with the tears threatening to fall from your wet lashes. he slows down as you come down and you think he's mercifully giving you a break when he pulls out, despite your cry of protest that he wants to make his ringtone. then he's picking you up and standing up with you to sit in front of your floor-length mirror with your back to his chest. "don't ya remember, baby? i gotta show you just how pretty you are," he says in your ear as he digs his hands into your hips and ass tight enough that there will definitely be bruises, but he's lining you up and pushing you down on his cock before you can whine about it. you're clawing at his arms and reaching behind you to grab his hair while he keeps sinking you down, and he watches with a salacious grin.

♡ "see, princess, see how pretty you are? bouncin' up and down on my cock like you were fuckin' made for it, you were, weren't you? fuckin' perfect fit. you look so perfect taking my cock, such a pretty girl. prettiest fuckin' girl i've ever seen. no, no, don't look away baby, watch how good you take my dick inside your tiny little pussy. that's it, princess. this pussy is mine now, right, baby? right? yeah, all mine now. gonna ruin you for any other man on the fuckin' planet."

♡ you came again and toji wasn't far behind you after that, practically using you like a toy at this point. you did your best to cling to him, but the only thing you could do in his hold was to watch and feel his fat cock bullying in and out of your pussy. babbles and moans were all you could manage now, and the only thing that would have made toji happier was if he had his phone in his hands to record it. he'd have plenty of chances later, anyways.

♡ "gonna let me cum in your pretty pussy, baby? aww, hah, too cock drunk to speak, huh? did i fuck you dumb already? mm, like you like this a lot, princess. so sweet for me. i'll fill you up with my cum as a reward, how's that sound? ha! your pussy likes that idea! squeezin' me so damn tight, you like that idea, don't you pretty girl? ohh, just be good and take it, just like that baby."

♡ he slams you down all the way on his cock and wraps his arms around you, grinding up into you hard, and you feel your belly get warm and somehow you feel even more full. you go limp against him, closing your eyes and whimpering with every twitch of his hips. it's just the mix of your heavy breathing for a few moments before toji's sitting back up from curling you both forward, looking in the mirror again.

♡ "aww, c'mon baby, you're letting it all leak out," he says, his voice gravelly and a bit heavier than before. when you don't open your eyes fast enough, his hand is in your hair and pulling it to make you look at where his cum is leaking out of you around his cock. and he's still hard.

♡ "guess i'll just have to fill you up again to make up for it, huh, pretty girl?"

#jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x female reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw stepcest #— lilly writes! ♡

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