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#he claims this hypothetical to be FACT

capslocked · 3 months

Text

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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awearywritersworld · 8 months

Text

"took you long enough"

gojo satoru x reader summary: when you ask your best friend to meet the guy you've been seeing, things don't go quite as planned. w/c: 3.2k tags/warnings: angst to smut with a fluffy ending. 18+. friends to lovers. jealous gojo. curse words. drinking. gojo shoves ur love interest. he's just kind of an ass to him in general. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: i don't often write smut, but i kinda got carried away.. carpe diem, i say masterlist

gojo is tired of hearing you ramble on about the new guy you've been seeing. he barely even glances at your phone screen when you try to show him a picture you took together.

"you're way out of his league," he states dryly.

"hardly," you scoff. "men don't exactly line up for me like women do for you."

it'd be a lie to claim you didn't have a thing for gojo at one point, but you learned a long time ago that he isn't interested in you that way. it wasn't hard to tell, given his parade of hookups and the occasional two week relationship. you've gotten over it though... for the most part, anyway.

he rolls his eyes. "i assure you that's only because you're shy, princess."

"okay, so you should be rejoicing that your best friend finally landed herself a boyfriend—"

"boyfriend?"

"well.. it's not official yet, but i think he's going to ask me soon!"

your apparent enthusiasm at the prospect leaves a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. of course, it's only because he wants the best for you and this guy certainly isn't it. "you've gone on like two dates."

"'toru, i've been seeing him for almost a month!" when he doesn't respond, you continue speaking. "so... that's why i was sort of hoping you'd come out with us tonight."

he looks at you increduously, "i am not third wheeling."

"you won't be!" you assure. "shoko and kento said they'd come. i just want you to meet him because you're really important to me and i actually think this could go somewhere—"

"alright, alright," he acquiesces, albeit begrudgingly. he's never been able to say no to you.

you squeal with excitement, throwing your arms around his neck in a brief hug. "i can't wait! we're all meeting at seven, i'll text you the address."

after a quick kiss to his cheek, you gather your things, all but running out the door. you weren't going to give him a chance to change his mind.

he stares after you wordlessly, running a hand through his hair while an unfamiliar tightness overcomes his chest.

when gojo enters the bar, he spots you right away despite the sizable crowd. as he makes his way toward your group, he can't help but notice how pretty you look in your little dress. in fact, you'd look absolutely perfect if it weren't for the fact you have another man's arm around your waist.

wait, what?

your laugh rings out across the room and judging by the smirk on shoko's face, he can tell she's said something you find unreasonably funny. once you spot him, your face lights up and you pull away from your almost boyfriend to give gojo a hug, something that brings him a sense of satisfaction.

"hey, sweetheart," he greets loud enough that the other man can hear. "who's this?"

"satoru, this is shinya!" you're beaming at him expectantly, so gojo has no choice but to extend his hand.

"hey, man." shinya shakes it firmly. "it's great to meet you. my girl's told me a lot about you."

gojo's eye twitches and he decides almost immediately that he finds shinya utterly insufferable. his voice is grating and he's too short and didn't you say you prefer guys with lighter hair—

"nice to meet you, too," gojo responds cooly. "i'm always happy to meet one of her friends."

nanami and shoko share a knowing look, more than prepared to break out their hypothetical popcorn. and boy, is this as good an occasion as any.

the strongest sorcerer isn't one to indulge in liquor, but how can he refrain when he has to be in the same room as shinya? each time he touches you, looks in your direction, calls you some sickening pet name— whenever he breathes in your general vicinity, really— gojo brings his drink up to his lips.

everyone else seems to be getting along, but unfortunately, he grows increasingly snarky with each glass he empties.

shinya asks what you'd like when he goes up for another round and it's 'oh, you don't know her favorite drink? well, i guess you're not as close as we are.'

shinya pulls your chair out for you and it's 'wow, you really got yourself a gentleman, princess.'

shinya mentions that he's fairly well versed in martial arts and it's 'really? maybe we should go out back and spar. i think it'd be fun.'

nanami steps in then, not entirely convinced gojo would hesitate before laying him out. "you can put the measuring tape away, idiot."

shinya is being an impressively good sport, but your anxiety has you emptying glasses in a hasty manner, too. you have no idea what's going on with gojo. you understand that he can be abrasive at times and that communication definitely isn't his strong suit, but his behavior is just absurd. you force an awkward laugh at nanami's comment.

"not that i'm not having, um, a great time and all!" you hiccup before continuing. "but i'd really like to dance. c'mon shinya!"

nanami and shoko wind up joining you both, which comes as a surprise. neither of them are exactly the partying type (not that you are either), but you're happy to see them having fun. honestly, you can't remember the last time either of them let loose.

you wonder if they also just wanted to escape gojo's snide remarks. now that they aren't ringing in your ear every other minute, your nerves have certainly calmed down a bit. well, until—

"so you do know that he's totally in love with you, right?"

"who?" you question, looking around as if it'd be obvious.

and it is, just not to you.

shinya chuckles. "gojo."

"what?" you bellow, completely dumfounded. "no way! i mean he's not— and i'm not— we're just friends."

"yeah?" he still sounds amused, nodding in gojo's direction. "is that why he looks like that?"

turning toward your table, even you have to admit he looks completely miserable. unbeknownst to you, he's spent the last half hour sending away every woman that approaches him asking to dance. he just isn't in the mood right now. at least, that's what he tells himself.

"er.. he just doesn't get out that much," you try your best to brush it off.

"whatever you say, baby."

you're relieved he doesn't seem terribly bothered by the idea, even if you find it completely implausible. it's true you spend a lot of time together and that you know one another like the back of your hands, but you'd given up any hope of it being more than friendship a long time ago. you'd moved on.

but if that's the case, why did shinya calling you baby suddenly feel so wrong? you convince yourself it must just be the alcohol.

when the four of you finally stumble back to the table, you realize you've missed last call. though it's probably for the best, as the five of you are certainly in for a nasty hangover the following morning.

it's near closing time, but the crowd has hardly thinned out and the music is still beating loudly in your ears. you're going back to jujutsu tech with your friends rather than home with shinya, so you loudly exchange goodbyes over the music as he gets ready to leave.

"i had a really great time tonight," he tells you. "maybe we could go for dinner tomorrow? there's something i've been wanting to ask you."

"okay!" you agree eagerly, eyes shining. "i'll call you in the morning."

gojo feels his stomach drop, his jaw clenching bitterly. he tries to tell himself to relax because this is what you want, but he just can't seem to get his thoughts straight.

shinya leans down, his lips meeting yours sweetly, and it causes white hot anger to flood gojo's body. it all happens so fast, shinya's ripped away from you with astounding force and he staggers backward. you've been struggling to hear over the noise all night, though you make out each word that follows with striking clarity.

"get the fuck away from her!"

gojo stalks off before anyone has time to process what just happened. he's already half way across the room when you come to your senses.

"'toru!" you call out, taking a step in his direction when he doesn't respond. "satoru!"

you take another step but you're stopped when something pulls you back. you look down to find shinya's hand wrapped around your wrist before your gaze turns up to meet his eye. "look, i really like you, but if you go after him, don't bother calling tomorrow."

the ultimatum is simple, but so is your decision. "i'm sorry."

you run off before he can say anything else, shoving your way through the bar patrons, and follow gojo out the door into the cold air of night.

"satoru!" you shout once more, thankful that his pace is slow enough for you to catch up. he turns to face you when you tug on his sleeve.

you nearly shy away from him, his expression something fierce, but the liquor in your system gives you courage. "what the hell was that? you embarrassed me—"

"i don't fucking care," he spits.

he's never taken such a tone with you, so you throw your hands in the air and exhale impatiently. "what do you mean? you should care! you're my friend, aren't you?"

"that's exactly what i mean. you're supposed to be mine," he growls.

you're not sure how it happens, but the next thing you know, his lips are crashing into yours, your teeth knocking together with the force. his hands paw at your hips, pulling your body against his greedily.

"i can't believe," he mumbles against your lips, "you wasted your time," his hands find your hair, tugging your head back and revealing your neck, "with that fucking loser."

once he's finished speaking, his lips trail across your jaw, landing just below your ear. your eyes flutter open and you're suddenly very aware that you're standing in the middle of a public sidewalk.

"'toru," your voice is breathy, even though you're trying desperately to keep it together. "there are people—"

he pulls away heatedly, his eyes narrowed. "you didn't care when he kissed you in front of everyone."

"yeah, but that was just a peck," you reason, though if he keeps this up, you're worried you might lose your resolve.

"tch, i guess you're right." the familiar sensation of warping through space and time sweeps through your body for a few seconds before your feet meet solid ground again. you don't need to look around to know you're in his bedroom. "we're going to do a lot more than that tonight."

your stomach flips at his words, heat rushing to your core. his lips find your neck once more, leaving sloppy kisses along your skin. "that's what you want right? for me to show you who you belong to?"

you nod weakly, feeling as if you're in a daze.

"ah, ah. use your words, sweetheart."

"yes— ah—" he sucks on the spot just above your collarbone before nipping the delicate skin there. "yes, 'toru."

"then get on the bed," he orders lowly.

and who are you to disobey? you can't honestly say you haven't been dreaming of this for years. his blanket feels cool to the touch, making you realize suddenly how much your skin is already burning with desire.

he kneels beside the bed, wasting no time before pushing up your dress and pulling your legs apart. you see his shoulders fall as he exhales harshly at the sight. his eyes flutter shut when he presses a kiss to your core over the tiny cotton panties you decided to wear.

he's rudely reminded of the possibility that you may have put them on with another man in mind.

"did you let him fuck you?" he interrogates. his eyes don't leave yours as he begins placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thigh.

"n-no!" it's almost embarrassing how vehemently you deny it, but the man between your legs takes great pleasure in your response.

"mm, knew you were a good girl."

he hooks a finger beneath your panties, pulling them down excruciatingly slow. you buck your hips up once he throws them off to the side.

"feeling eager, princess?" he taunts, his breath fanning across your center.

you nod, your legs shaking with anticipation, before remembering what he said about using your words. "please, 'toru. need you so bad."

he can't possibly deny you, not when you beg for him so sweetly. he presses a soft kiss to your swollen bud before flattening his tongue against it, drawing circles there. he groans when your slickness coat his chin.

you whine when his eyes shift up to meet yours and push yourself against him even further. he chuckles against your skin, but truth be told, he's just as eager as you are. he slips one long finger inside of you, relishing in how easily you take it.

"oh—" you cry out as he adds another finger, his tongue pressing against you just a little harder.

his other hand is gripping your thigh roughly, the flesh spilling between his fingers. one of your arms is supporting your weight, but the other reaches out, your fingers threading through his hair.

you're panting now, tugging on his white locks in pleasure. he moans in response and the way your walls are clenching around him lets him know you're close. "c'mon baby, cum for me."

that's all it takes for you to unravel, his name falling from your lips over and over. he doesn't stop until he's sure you've come down from your high.

"you tasted so perfect," he tells you, unbuckling his pants in a hurry and shoving them down his legs.

his shirt and boxers follow quickly thereafter, so you pull your dress over your head. you can't tear your eyes away from his cock, it's long and thick and pretty.

he pushes you back against the bed and crawls on top of you, but then he just stares down at your face. just as you begin to wonder if something is wrong—

"you're so fucking beautiful. have i ever told you that?"

your mind reels for an answer, but you don't have to worry about it for long, as his lips capture yours. you can taste yourself on his tongue

"tell me what you want," he murmurs against your lips as he moves his cock along your slit, coating himself in your wetness.

"need you, 'toru. p-please, i need you to fuck me."

he smiles against your lips as he lines himself up with your entrance, pushing inside slowly. he leans back to find that your eyes are screwed shut and your lips are parted in bliss. he's determine to seer the image into his mind forever.

splitting you open is absolute ecstasy, the noises he's making are proof enough of that. "fuck, princess. fuck."

he nearly whimpers when he bottoms out. "god, you feel so perfect. i could stay in this pussy forever."

your legs wrap around his waist once he begins to pump in and out. "never felt so full, 'toru. it feels s'good."

he shudders at your words and laces his fingers with yours, sweat beading on his forehead as he picks up his pace. his head dips down, his teeth nipping the skin of your neck aggressively.

"p-people are gonna see—"

"i want them to," he rumbles. "want everyone to know how good i made this tight little pussy feel."

you can't argue with him, not when this is the best anyone's ever made you feel. his head shifts even lower, his tongue moving along your nipples in a way that has your back arching off the bed.

he uses the opportunity to snake an arm beneath your lower back, holding your body against himself firmly. the new angle has you mewling his name in the most sinful way.

"you're takin' me so well. like you were made for this cock."

your head's lolling to the side as you fall to pieces beneath him and he can feel himself getting close. "look at me when i fuck you, baby."

you do as he asks, his hips stuttering when he sees the tears of pleasure swimming in your eyes. "you're mine, aren't you? tell me you're mine."

your pussy clenches around his cock so tight it's almost painful. "i'm yours, 'toru. all yours."

"fuck, that's my good girl. gonna cum for me again, hm?"

you nod up at him meekly, too far gone for words, but he doesn't seem to mind this time.

"'i'm close too, sweetheart." his fingers reach down to rub circles on your clit, eliciting a throaty moan from you.

you feel your stomach tighten and you're nearly there, but you don't go over the edge until he begs, "can i fill you up? want to so bad."

you can't find the strength to respond, so you hope the way you tighten your legs around his waist and claw at his back is answer enough.

your head rolls to the side once more, your vision going fuzzy around the edges. he grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning you to face him. "please, baby. wanna see you when i cum—"

he hums your name through a choked moan, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reaches his own high. he collapses on top of you, laying there for a moment before pulling out and rolling onto his back beside you.

no words are shared, both of you trying to catch your breath and slow your heart rate. the silence gives your mind a chance to wander, which is never a good thing.

you consider the fact that gojo's never kept a girl around for more than a week or two— that this probably meant way more to you than it did to him. you sit up feeling stupid and wrap your arms around your chest.

you look around the room in search of your panties, his cum running down your thighs when you stand up to grab them. it's not until you pull them up your legs that he opens his eyes. he props himself up on his elbow, furrowing his eyebrows when you pick up your dress.

"what are you doing?" he asks curiously.

"well, i figured i should go back to my room—"

"what, are you crazy?" he gawks at you. "get your ass back in this bed."

you approach him shyly, your apprehension clear to him. "i mean, you can if you want, but why would you go back to your room?"

"i just didn't know if you... you know.."

"no, i don't know." if you knew him any less, you might think he was intent on torturing you, but it's clear to you that he's genuinely confused.

you sigh. "i just didn't know what this meant for us."

"baby, i didn't think i could make it any more clear." he sits up to grab you by the wrist, tugging you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist. "i'm all yours, so you're stuck with me." he tries to mask the nervousness in his voice when he asks, "is that okay with you?"

you nod, hiding your face in his neck. "took you long enough."

#m!writes!smut #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo imagines #gojo smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk smut

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pen-and-umbra · 2 months

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I particularly enjoy how they handled Sephiroth's arrival to Nibelheim, juxtaposing his inner state with the perception that the other characters and the public appear to have of him.

Spoilers, obviously.

Consider this scene for example. Sephiroth is visibly disturbed by both the familiarity of his surroundings and the fact that he cannot place the dejavu it created. But when Cloud/Zack asks whether he's okay, he immediately turns the conversation to the other party's well-being and readiness.

This demonstrates how much he embraced the idea that he has to endure and never show weakness or discomfort, that he *MUST* always be okay. It also shows that he's not used to being questioned if he's alright. Anyone who grew up with a narcissistic parent would recognize the internalized rule of not causing trouble for others, which includes not being physically or mentally unwell.

And a part of the general public did support that image, with some even dismissing the idea of a "living legend" being ill, claiming that a hypothetical "mako poisoning isn't going to hurt him".

In some ways, an idea like that stripped its intended target of human nature long before Sephiroth lost his marbles in the mansion’s basement.

Cloud/Zack follow a similar line of thought. It took Cloud/Zack nearly a week to go check on his colleague. A week without sleeping, eating, or drinking. It's kind of mind-boggling, until you remember that his "Sephiroth was in a different league" also meant that in Zack's/Cloud's perspective, human norms didn't apply to him, and the idea of physical and mental deterioration due to stress, starvation or lack of sleep never ever occurred to them.

It's sad really. Sephiroth's reputation fueled by ShinRA marketing rendered him “beyond human” long before Gast’s revelations in the project records did. Even people like Zack, who worked with him on and off for years seemingly couldn't imagine that he, too, had human limits.

#sephiroth #ff7 #ffvii #ffvii rebirth #ffvii remake #nibelheim #final fantasy 7 #ff7 remake #final fantasy 7 rebirth #final fantasy vii rebirth #ffvii@luv fandoms

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tofixtheshadows · 2 days

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Hot take: Laios wouldn't actually mind an arranged marriage. Obviously "reluctant royal being pressured into marriage" is very fun for shipping purposes. But I have harlequin blood, so bear with me. Join me on this journey of character theorizing/shipping nonsense that makes it abundantly clear I have a Scrivener document I'm neglecting.

Laios was promised to someone from a young age. He and Falin both were; it's probably how their parents ended up together. They both broke it off by leaving their village, but it didn't seem to be a factor in Laios's own decision. And when Marcille, presumably, asks about his hypothetical love life (bicorn chapter), he not only brings it up readily, but actually seems kind of flattered? lmao

I love when smug Laios comes out. Underrated factor of Laios's personality for me is how much he enjoys being seen as cool. I think you'd expect Laios to be embarrassed or uneasy over this line of questioning, and the fact that he isn't is fun to me.

So when Yaad and his other old advisors bring up his need for a wife, Laios is ready to go along with it. Not necessarily thrilled by the prospect, but he was raised to think of marriage as a business arrangement you do because it's beneficial for your household/bloodline (as was often the case historically). He's already made the big step to claim a throne, and the idea of becoming village chief after his father seemed to have been vaguely in the back of his head all his life. Besides, if he has to do it anyway, I think he'd take comfort that there was a formalized process for an otherwise socially messy undertaking.

This dovetails neatly with my personal headcanon that Laios is gay but unaware of it. He comes from kind of a repressed culture- or at least I can imagine he does based on context clues- and has spent most of his life being ostracized in one way or another, feeling like he's on the outside of humanity. So he doesn't realize that his lack of attraction to women is unusual- he assumes that nobody really enjoys romance that much. It's not like his own parents married for love. It's just something people play up for stories, right?

It's all tangled up with his fraught desire for human connection and platonic companionship anyway. Meanwhile he's blithely unaware that the things he says about Toshiro are not normal bro things. Oh you'd totally marry Toshiro, Laios? Tell me more.

I see this in Marcille too. Firstly due to her unstable development, which has only recently allowed her to reach maturity (I headcanon her as somewhere between 20-22) and secondly due to her being a half-elf (infertile+a too-long lifespan), I think she has the expectation that she's simply not destined for love. The half-elf character she relates to in her favorite books says as much. So she, too, confuses a genuine lack of heterosexual attraction with the belief that this is just because of her half-elf status distancing her from it. Plus, she spent over a decade as a student/researcher in a nice little sheltered academic bubble, at an all-girls academy populated by adolescents. She's the most sheltered of all the characters: she's only spent the past year in the "real world", and she still focuses all her romantic attention on living vicariously through her favorite characters or her friends (except for Falin, conveniently!).

And Marcille would absolutely want to live vicariously through Laios and his future wife. She would not want him to go through a dispassionate formalized process: she wants her bestie to have a fairytale romance! What is the point of being a heroic king in a mythic castle if you can't even get a love story for the ages out of it?

This would result in a lot of Laios meeting with eligible bachelorettes at Marcille's urging, looking to Kabru for help the entire time and being grilled by Marcille afterwards about what he liked best about each girl. "She had nice, um, teeth?" They're both so close to getting it.

Kabru, meanwhile, is agitating for Yaad and the other advisors not lock the country into a hereditary monarchy, they have the chance to do something radical here, to break away from the systems that the elves and dwarves uphold. At the very least, let Laios marry for love, or formally adopt an heir and name them his successor if he wants, he's already sacrificed enough for the sake of Melini. Don't make him jump through these circus hoops for the chance of some trade agreements, we can get those without a royal marriage. And even if Laios was willing to go along with it, he does look at Kabru like he's his hero for sticking up for him.

The vague unhappiness Kabru feels at the idea of Laios being married off is easy for him to ignore. Kabru didn't actually get better at honoring or even recognizing his own wants just because he's moved past the dungeon. And Laios hasn't gotten the hint about his crush on Toshiro and is still 50/50 on saying casually shocking things, so when he remarks that he doesn't need a wife anyway when he has Kabru, he has no idea why that gets him the looks it does. After all, where he's from, men marry women to run their households, but Laios has castle staff for that, and Kabru is handling the rest?

That comment alone ticks one month off their collective gay awakening countdown.

Anyway. How many repressed gays in their twenties does it take to run a country?

Answer: Yaad can tell you.

#dungeonposting #DUNGEON MESHI SPOILERS #I always have to use that tag for the dumbest reasons. because of my harlequin blood.#Labru #you get that tag because that was the point of my post it just took awhile to get there #also pretend I made some kind of joke with a pun about screwing at the end. believe in me.#Golden Country trio #^tag for ME. rotating scenarios with them in my head is a personal treat.#I haven't figured out where Kabru falls yet #he's very bad at introspection and very good at denying himself #but god knows what a guy like Kabru who moves through society the way he does experiences #several possibilities present themselves and I haven't yet decided which one is most plausible. or funniest.#pairing: to be human

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vulpisnocturna · 2 months

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Heyyy so I actually just finished reading your Chrollo works and I would love to maybe brainstorm with you on having one where the reader actually is pursuing his affections, and maybe he doesn't know how to deal with it because its foreign. I would love to see him experience requited love, and the way you write is so beautiful!!

You’re too sweet! 🥹

Chrollo would be so cute in love and in a “healthy” relationship.

My headcanons are around this:

- Chrollo would be so confused at first. He would wonder what they see in him, what version or “character” he thinks he’s playing they are infatuated with. Do they see something clear about his personality? Do they ignore his amoral tendencies, or do they embrace them? Do they know his darker sides, do they see them, do they accept them?

- I think he’d look for a way to exploit this at first. If he was infatuated too, he’d probably feel like he won the lottery and play into those character traits they like to ensure the best chances of keeping them around

- If they called him out on it and told him to just be himself, he’d be impressed but also confused. Would probably ask something along the lines of “and what do you believe is “being me”?”

- Upon receiving an answer, Chrollo would do a lot of thinking about who he is, how he appears to people, how the one they are infatuated with sees them. He would probably test their “loyalty” or their infatuation by leaning more into his less savoury traits to see if they would leave, get scared or stay, whilst trying to keep himself as detached as possible to account for possible rejection

- To him, they would become so fascinating, and possibly the key to understanding himself. And yes, he would get attached, whether he tries to or not

- If they stay no matter what, Chrollo would start to become so attached to them and so fearful of a hypothetical betrayal on their part

- He would also start worrying about something happening to them, and would in turn become almost overprotective, to the point he would stalk his partner without them knowing and do background research on everyone they meet

- I feel like he would be extra jealous because he would fear being left for someone more morally acceptable. Chrollo is a confident guy, but when it comes to relationships where the control is not all in his hands, he gets nervous that his partner might choose someone who aligns with society’s morals

- He would seek them out for comfort after he begins to trust them. It would take a long while, but if he was sure they were in love with him, and he was in love with them, he’d like unwinding with them, cuddling and reading books, having them brush his hair, watching a film together etc.

- He’d try to be romantic. The poor guy would pick up some romance novels and steal “tips” from there, which would feel so forced and stilted 💀 They’d see his true romantic side in things he’d do genuinely, like stealing first editions of their favourite books, showing interest in their hobbies and conversing about them, intimacy and being a good listener as they vent or rant about something (watch the mansplaining though)

- I do believe Chrollo would treat his SO like royalty. So many dates, stolen gifts and nice food. He likes the finer things in life, and he likes to appear as a sophisticated, well-mannered gentleman. His flaws lie mostly on his morals, his arrogant, self-serving, jealous nature which stems from Meteor City ways of having to fend off others trying to steal things he has claimed as soon as he lowers his guard, and the fact that once you’re with Chrollo there is no way out unless he too gets bored. If his partner tried to leave him, he would see it as a betrayal, and turn to more drastic measures to keep them— see Yandere Chrollo.

#hxh chrollo #chrollo hunter x hunter #chrollo x reader #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo lucifer x reader #chrollo headcanons #chrollo x y/n #chrollo x you #hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh x reader

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kimbappykidding · 4 months

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Vernon had gotten a lot of things wrong in your relationship, but he didn't realise any of that until you were gone.

You'd never been insecure in a relationship but then again Vernon was the first idol you'd dated.

You were an idol yourself from the group G-(I)dle and had been for 3 years before you and Vernon got together. You knew how the industry worked but it didn't make it any easier when rumours started going viral that Vernon was dating a girl who wasn't you. The claims were he was dating Yeri of Red Velvet and although the article wasn't official it was getting around the Internet. The thing that bothered you most about it, was Vernon never messaged you about it.

You'd both been busy with work recently and hadn't seen each other in nearly 2 weeks. You only just got back from touring and Vernon had his new song to promote. You called and texted but not as frequently as usual. All of this would've excused him not texting you but this story was big! It was trending and you found it weird he didn't think to talk to you about it. It was made worse by the fact Vernon and Yeri were friends and you knew there had been some history there. You trusted that was all far in the past so didn't think the rumours were true but part of you wondered what they'd been doing for people to assume they were dating. It could've been innocent and they were merely together but you had no idea because Vernon had never explained it to you.

So you found yourself following the trend without meaning to and Soyeon caught you. "You're not paying attention to any of that crap are you?" she asked. You tried to hide your phone and then sighed "I just want to see what made them think that". "But you're dating Vernon so you know it's not true". You frowned "see we never actually made it official". "Wait what?" Yuqi asked and you sighed "he never asked me to be his girlfriend in those words, we just became what we are so technically we're not even anything". Minnie shook her head "but you are dating, just because he didn't ask you doesn't mean anything". "Doesn't it?" you asked and Soojin frowned "but this is Vernon. We all know he considers you his girlfriend. What's he said about this scandal". "Nothing" you said and that made them all pause. "Right?" you cried "I know he's been busy but don't I deserve a reassuring text or something?". Your members nodded "totally, have you tried messaging him?" Shuhua asked. "But why should she have to message him?" Yuqi replied and the others shrugged. "You reassure your partner even if it's trivial. How doesn't he get that?". "But you said Vernon's a little...distant anyway isn't he?" Minnie asked and you nodded.

You and Vernon were very different people and in some ways that worked very well. You were complete opposites and helped the other step out of their comfort zone. You helped Vernon communicate and express himself more and Vernon helped you become more thoughtful and independent. However, there were times like today when your base expectations weren't being met.

In the end, you decided not to do anything. You wanted to wait and see how long it took Vernon to say something and 2 days later he still hadn't texted you. On the 3rd day, he sent you a funny cat video and you realised him telling you about the scandal wasn't even on his radar so you got the opinion of a male friend to see if it was a gender thing.

Jongho from Ateez had been a close friend of yours for years and again like you and Vernon the two of you were opposites but it worked. You'd kind of forced Jongho to be your friend initially but now he liked it. You rang him up and he picked up quickly "Hey Y/n what's up?". "So I have a hypothetical to run by you". "Oh goodie!" Jongho said sarcastically and you laughed "so imagine you're dating a girl and a dating rumour about you comes out. Would you text your girlfriend about it?". Jongho paused "well I mean surely she knows it's fake if she's my girlfriend". "So you wouldn't mention it at all?" you asked and Jongho was quiet again "no I'd probably mention it just to reassure her it was bullshit. I'd at least bring it up in person and say how annoying it was or make a joke out of it". You nodded "and what if the girl wasn't your girlfriend. You'd been casually together for a little while". "Oh then I'd definitely bring it up because she might think I'm seeing both of them!". "Thank you!" you cried and Jongho laughed. "Vernon?" he asked and you nodded "he's not contacted me since his rumour came out". "But you're dating". "See we're not officially and if I'm honest I did check the articles to see what the photos of the two of them were". "So you don't trust him?" Jongho asked and you shook your head "I do but sometimes I just feel so...unsure in our relationship. He's not very good at communicating and rarely expresses how he feels. I didn't know he actually fancied me until our 4th date when he told me, he's that good at hiding how he feels and sometimes I just feel like I'm too demanding. That I'm too clingy and asking too much of him so I don't tend to share how I feel". Jongho was quiet "Y/n that's not good. You should never feel like you're bothering your partner when you're asking for something you need". "I know but there's no malice on Vernon's side! He's the sweetest the times when I have mentioned things to him I just don't want to have to do it for everything". Jongho nodded "you want some of the things to be instinctive so you're not constantly reminding him". "Exactly!" you agreed and Jongho sighed "well I don't know what to advise. How long have you been together?". "6 months" and Jongho nodded "out of the honeymoon period. From what I hear a lot of couples have problems then so you're not alone". "But how do I know if it's something we can overcome or an incompatibility?". Jongho was quiet for ages and then sighed "I have no idea".

Then to make things more confusing Vernon texted you one day asking if you were free and if he could come over. You told him you had a break from the tour for the next few days and he appeared on your doorstep 24 hours later. The minute you saw him standing there all the emotions you felt for him and all the fondness hit you. You opened the door and he shot you a smile "there she is" and hugged you tightly picking you up slightly. You blushed and squealed as he lifted you. "It's been way too long" Vernon said still not letting you go and you nodded "too long, but how's your promoting going?". "We're finishing tomorrow and I can't wait but forget that tell me about your tour!".

Once you'd caught up with one another Vernon pulled you into his arms again. "I missed you so much" Vernon said pressing a kiss to your temple and resting his forehead against yours. "You did?" you asked and he chuckled "of course I did! I always miss you". "Oh" you said and Vernon chuckled again "did you think I just don't miss you when you're away touring". "I don't know, maybe" you said and Vernon looked at you, clearly confused why you might think that. "Really?" he asked moving back so he could see you and you looked down "no of course not I..." and you trailed off. "Y/n?" Vernon asked and you looked at him "sorry, I'm just tired". "Are you sure?" he asked sensing something was up but you hated confrontation of any form so just nodded folding into his chest. You pushed your feelings away and smiled at him "I'm fine". Vernon nodded "okay then" and wrapped his arms around you again. Wrapped up together you could almost pretend it was fine but when Vernon left the next day you felt heavy all over again.

You carried on as normal, ignoring any doubts you had and just as the rumours about Vernon and Yeri died down a blast from the past came back. Vernon's ex Eunji used to work for Pledis as a stylist but had moved to KQ Entertainment when they broke up. Eunji hated you as, unknown to you, Vernon broke up with her so he could ask you out. She'd frequently messaged Vernon asking to get back together and had even sent you some horrible texts too and later claimed she was drunk. Jongho knew of her and she knew the two of you were friends so largely avoided him and his members which suited Jongho fine. He updated you on anything you needed to know about her and sometimes told you more than your own boyfriend.

You didn't hear about the Ateez x Seventeen collaboration until Jongho mentioned it. When it was clear you had no knowledge of it Jongho told you that Eunji was working on the project...but Vernon forgot to mention that to you. You were angry and when you next saw Vernon didn't hesitate to bring it up.

"Why didn't you tell me you were doing a collaboration with Ateez?" you asked and Vernon paused. He clearly got what you meant by the look on his face. "Because I didn't know if she'd be there or not". "You knew she still works for them right?" you asked and he nodded "Yeah...". "And she was there?" you asked wanting to hear it from himself and he signed "yeah but it's not a big deal I didn't speak to her. Well not about anything other than work". You shook your head in disbelief and Vernon sighed "I have to be professional with her Y/n I can't ignore her!". "I'm not asking you to I just wish you would've told me. You not telling me makes me feel like you're hiding something". "But I'm not. I didn't tell you because I knew you'd worry. Things upset you sometimes and I don't want to hurt you so I don't tell you them" he said and that was the worst thing he could've possibly said.

"You don't tell me?" you asked "so you wondered if to tell me this and you decided not to?". "Yes..." Vernon said cautiously as if trying to detect a trap. "I did it to protect you. I always try and protect you". Your worst fears were coming true. Vernon was not telling things and keeping them from you because he thought you were emotional and overreacted. The annoying thing is you didn't want to react now because you thought it would prove him right but had no idea what else to do. You felt so shit and just wanted to cry. You didn't speak trying not to cry and Vernon sighed "please don't be mad...you know how much I care about you". Something about those words and how he was looking at you with those big brown eyes made you explode.

"No I don't!" you cried "because you hardly ever let me in! There's no regular communication or affirmation. I'm not needy but I would like you to tell me how you feel more than once every few months or when I leave the country. I just want you to be upfront with your emotions for me. I always feel bad asking you to adjust and to hear you've been keeping things from me just makes me feel so tired. All I want is honesty and good communication" you said starting to get sad "I mean I don't even know if we're dating". "What?" Vernon asked "Y/n come on you know I'm your boyfriend". "Do I? I never asked you and you never asked me. It just happened and sometimes I have no clue what we are. When I haven't heard from you in 2 weeks I don't know if we're dating or intermittent. I have no idea whether I'm coming or going Vernon and it's horrible!" you cried tears finally leaking down your face and Vernon paused. He didn't like emotion, especially crying because he never knew what to do and you could see the panic on his face which made you cry even more because if he knew you, he'd know all you needed was a hug. Instead, he watched you before rushing to grab you a tissue partially so he could leave the room.

Once you'd calmed down you spoke first because Vernon hadn't spoken in ages and it didn't seem he would be any time soon. "I think I need to go home". Vernon nodded "okay I'll walk you to your car...should I call you tomorrow or something?". You took in a breath and shook your head "I don't know". Vernon nodded "okay" and didn't ask anything more. You reached your car and you looked at him "are you happy Vernon?". "With us?" he asked "yes and I thought you were. I guess I didn't realise how much was wrong". You shook your head "I just don't know if we're too different. If that's our problem". Vernon frowned "I don't think we're that different" but he didn't sound sure at all. "We're polars Vernon and I don't know if I'm fighting a losing battle". "So what do you want to do?" he asked and you shook your head "I don't know but I know if I say I don't know and we walk away it won't be resolved for another 2 weeks and I can't have that...so I think we should just break up".

Vernon's eyes widened "you don't want to work on it? Try and fix it". "I want to but I don't feel like I have the energy...I can't escape the feeling it shouldn't be this hard and I can't keep telling you how to act. I just can't...". Vernon nodded "okay then. I don't want to cause you any stress so we can break up if that will make you feel better". You shook your head wondering how he could even say that but atleast felt like for once you were making the mature decision and not burying your head in the sand. "Okay, goodnight Vernon" and you left.

You of course felt awful following the breakup. No matter how many times you told yourself this was the mature thing to do, to call quits on a relationship that wasn't working, you still missed Vernon. You kept thinking about all the things he did that you loved and wondered if you'd been too hasty or selfish. Your members all comforted you and tried to shield you from anything they could but one-day Soojin came into your room and you could tell from the look on her face she had something bad to tell you. Soojin wasn't one to beat around the bush so she took your hand and told you. "Y/n just so you know before anyone else says it, tonight at the club I saw Vernon leaving with Eunji".

You'd been expecting it but it was still a blow. You'd been broken up just over a month now and wondered how long this had been happening. You trust Vernon hadn't been cheating on you but technically he could've gone to Eunji the night of your breakup and that would've been fine but you didn't know if Vernon was that type of person.

He wasn't.

Vernon laid in bed with Eunji and everything just felt wrong. He hadn't planned on this at all and all his members had been cautious when he said he wanted to come out tonight and he got why. He'd been emotional since the breakup and alcohol typically did not help with that. It didn't, drunk Vernon just missed you more and when he saw Eunji part of him just wanted what was familiar once more but familiar didn't mean good.

Of course, in the moment things had felt good enough and he'd wanted to leave with her, but now with the alcohol leaving his system and his brain returning he just felt so certain this wasn't right. He supposed it could be because this was the first girl he'd been with since you and so it was simply different not bad but that didn't feel right after.

"What are you thinking about?" Eunji asked resting her hands on his chest and Vernon tried not to tense. "Nothing" he said but it was pretty clear what he was thinking about or more accurately who. "It's okay you know" Eunji said "that she's still on your mind". "It is?" Vernon asked and she nodded "It's only been a month it'll get easier and easier and she'll become a distant memory". Vernon didn't even wonder how she'd know the time since you'd broken up. He was too focused on what Eunji saying you'd become a distant memory. He felt himself resisting it although he knew that was the goal. He was meant to stop thinking of you but the truth was he didn't want to. "And a great way to speed up the process is to keep doing things to distract you" Eunji said kissing his neck "so want me to distract you?". Vernon shook his head "I'm really tired so I think I'm just going to sleep". "Oh okay" Eunji said and she settled into his arms. Vernon didn't want to hug her but also couldn't see how he'd get out of it so he just closed his eyes and waited a long enough amount of time to switch her out of them.

You saw Vernon the following week at an award show and your mind immediately went to Eunji. Luckily you spotted Vernon before he saw you and knew exactly where not to look but Vernon didn't. He looked right at you and froze. He hadn't seen you in what felt like ages and he quickly tried to analyse everything about you to see if you'd been struggling as much as he had. Your hair was different which made sense as Vernon recalled you saying you couldn't wait to dye it. Your members were sat all around you like a fortress and you either hadn't noticed him or were purposefully not looking at him but Vernon couldn't seem to stop staring at you. The others noticed and Seungkwan knocked his leg "stop it, youre being too obvious". Vernon nodded and stared at his feet but he felt just shit. He wanted you to look at him to prove you atleast remembered he existed. That you'd been struggling too but all night you didn't even glance in his direction.

Later on at the afterparty Vernon saw your group pass Ateez and you stopped to chat to them. Vernon knew you were friends with Jongho and could see all the guys were bigging you up, complimenting your outfit. He watched Wooyoung twirl you and felt a sharp jolt run through him. "Hey relax" Scoups said beside him "ease up on the glass" and he realised he'd been gripping it so tight his knuckles were white. He set it down and sighed "I need some air" and stood up. "Want anyone to come with you?" Dino asked but he shook his head.

On the way back in he spotted Jongho and the boy saw him too. They were standing across from each other and as Jongho went to walk away Vernon called his name and hurried after him "Hey Jongho wait". Jongho turned and looked at Vernon "what?" he asked, his tone ice cold. "I was just wondering how Y/n is?". Jongho frowned "why would I tell you?'. "Look I know we broke up but I still care about her and want to make sure she's okay". Jongho shook his head "I'm not telling you anything" and turned to walk away but Vernon grabbed his arm "I'm not letting you leave until you answer my question". Jongho looked at Vernon's hand on him and back-up to Vernon. "Y/n doesn't owe you anything and you lost the privilege to know things about her so I'm not telling you anything. Now let go of me before I make you". Vernon suddenly realised Jongho was a lot stronger than him and let go "I'm sorry I just...I keep thinking about her and I just want to know she's okay". "You care so much about her huh?" Jongho asked "funny I thought your priority was Eunji nowadays" and he walked away.

Vernon's world came crashing down as he realised you knew about Eunji. He'd purposefully sworn her to secrecy to avoid this getting out but somehow Jongho knew and so you must know too. Vernon's mind was spinning and this was a disaster. He took out his phone and was texting you when Scoups and Seungkwan appeared "Vernon what happened?". "She knows about Eunji" he said "I have to tell her what happened". "Vernon calm down, you don't need to text Y/n right this second". "I do" Vernon said getting annoyed "she has to know...she has to!" When he dropped his phone and swore loudly. Seungkwan grabbed it before he could and Vernon held his hand out for it but Seungkwan didn't pass it to him. "Give me my phone" Vernon said but Seungkwan shook his head "friends don't let friends drunk text". "Seungkwan give me my phone!" Vernon yelled squaring up to him but Scoups got in between them "Hey, first you try and fight Jongho and now Seungkwan? Outside now!" and he led the younger boy out of the club. Vernon sat down on the curb and put his head in his hands. He sobbed and sobbed while Scoups patted his back.

Jongho called you the next morning and told you everything that happened. "I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want him taking up any space in your head but Wooyoung thought I should let you know". You nodded "yeah thanks for telling me. So he was pretty emotional huh?". Jongho nodded "he was a mess Y/n, he's really regretting the breakup'. You shook your head "but he's with Eunji". "He was really shaken when I said that too" Jongho said "he had no idea you knew". "He should've figured I'd have guessed" you said unimpressed. Jongho nodded "there's a lot of things Vernon should've done".

The next day Vernon was thinking that same thought. He'd had a terrible night and the thing that bothered him most was he had no idea how you knew about Eunji. They'd only hooked up once and he'd asked her to keep it quiet. His members wouldn't have told anyone so the only person who could've was her. So he called her and asked.

"Have you told anyone that we hooked up again?" he asked and there was silence. "Eunji?" he asked and she finally replied "a few people but what does it matter?". "What does it matter?" he cried "I didn't want anyone to know and guess who does? Y/n!". "Why do you care you're not together" she tried again and Vernon shrugged "so? I still don't want her to know I've slept with another girl". "I won't be your dirty little secret Vernon so if you want this to continue you need to let me tell who I want" Eunji said. "Okay it's over" Vernon replied and she paused "wait I won't tell anyone else". "It doesn't matter I don't want this to continue, it was a mistake anyway". "She doesn't want you anymore!" Eunji cried "there's no way she'll take you back, especially after this so think about what you're doing here Vernon. There's no need to throw this away from her". "It's not just for her it's for me. Goodbye Eunji" and Vernon hung up the phone, his hands shaking so much he dropped it the second he pressed the red button.

Scoups heard him on the phone and knocked "hey can Seungkwan and I come in?" and Vernon nodded. "I didn't realise you were awake" Scoups began "who was that on the phone?". "Eunji, she told people about us and I think she did it on purpose". Scoups nodded "she would've been my first guess" and Vernon sighed "I can't believe I went back to her. It's over now but she's right, it was unlikely Y/n wouldn't take me back before but now it's hopeless!". "No it's not!" Scoups said and Seungkwan who had also been listening outside burst in. "Vernon you need to stop this!" he cried and Vernon looked at him "Seungkwan I'm so sorry for last night I just feel so sad and angry all the time" he said tearing up and Scoups froze because Vernon never cried. Last night he'd been drunk so he let it pass but he'd never seen sober Vernon cry. Seungkwan was less taken aback though.

"Vernon you're not going to win Y/n back by sitting here regretting things, you need to be proactive!" Seungkwan said and Vernon looked at him "what do you mean? There's no way I'm winning Y/n back ever!". "You don't know that!" Seungkwan cried "look the whole reason you broke up was because Y/n didn't think you'd fight for the relationship and look! You're proving her right". Vernon knew Seungkwan was right but still felt deflated "so what do I do?". Seungkwan looked to Scoups wondering how much clearer he could make it. "Fight!" Scoups cried and Seungkwan nodded "show Y/n you care enough about her to make things right. If you want her, tell her you're not going to rest until she knows how much you care about her. At the very least try explaining things to her!" Seungkwan cried and Vernon frowned "but how? She won't speak to me". "Has she blocked your number?" Scoups asked and Vernon paused "I'm not sure, I haven't tried contacting her since we broke up". Both boys sighed "well let's start there then!" Seungkwan said "let's send a text first so it's not as scary as calling and we'll go from there".

You went to sleep late because Jongho insisted on staying up with you to watch the first Harry Potter because he knew they made you feel happy. So you woke up late as a consequence and heard your phone buzz. You reached out for it figuring it would be Jongho or Soyeon when you saw the name and gasped. You dropped the phone right on your face and cursed at the pain. By the time you recovered the ringing had stopped and you waited anxiously to see if Vernon would leave a voicemail...he did.

"Hey, I was really hoping we could talk. After last night some things have become really clear and I wanted to clear up the rumour about Eunji. Something did happen between us but she exaggerated and it's over. If nothing else I just want to apologise to you. So please let me know if we can text, call, meet...anything is fine I just need to speak to you".

Vernon's message shocked you for several reasons. You understood from what Jongho had said that he was upset but figured it was because he'd been caught, to hear he'd ended things with Eunji surprised you. Not to mention Vernon had texted you, of his own volition, asking to talk to you and have a proper adult conversation. You couldn't recall Vernon ever making this effort when you were dating and were pleasantly surprised. So that was probably why you acted so spontaneously and after discussing it with the girls decided to agree with Vernon's request.

Soojin squeezed your hand as you pressed the call button. It rang 3 times before Vernon picked it up "Y/n?". "It's me" you said and he gasped "oh thank god! Y/n thank you so much for calling you! I really need to talk to you". You nodded "okay so talk".

You were curious to hear what he would say but were still hurt by him and weren't just going to roll over. Vernon nodded "yeah I asked you if we could talk so yeah of course. Y/n firstly Eunji, we slept together once on the 11th of November and I regretted it instantly. It was after we broke up and I was a wreck but I thought going out drinking would make me feel better. It didn't. I watched the clock reach the time when we ended it and I just felt like such a loser. I knew I'd let you down and that I'd lost someone amazing. I hated myself but wasn't admitting that so I pretended I was fine but nothing felt right with Eunji and I felt even worse after it. I knew it was over then and asked Eunji not to tell anyone about it but she did and I'm so sorry. I never wanted you to find out about it". "Well it wasn't just Eunji who spread it. Soojin saw you leave the club together so you weren't exactly trying to hide it afterwards". Vernon nodded "you know what you're right. I did a stupid thing that hurt you and I'm sorry. There's no excuses".

Vernon was never usually so honest so you nodded "okay...I can't say all is forgiven but thank you for saying that. Was there anything else you wanted to say?". Vernon nodded "yeah so much but the best way I can think to express is it Y/n I'm so sorry I didn't show up for you or fight for us. I really was happy with you and care for you so much". "Vernon..." you said but he frowned "can I please just say this? I need to". "OKay" you said and he carried on. "I know I didn't fight for us before but I am going to fight for us now. I'm going to fight to show you how much I care about you and prove to you our relationship is worth saving". "Vernon I don't know if we can ever get back there" you said "there was so much wrong and I don't trust you". "Well I'll start there then, I'm going to show you that you can trust me and if we're lucky enough to get back there I'll show you how committed I am to fixing all those things. I can't just let you go Y/n...not without trying". You paused because that was what you'd always wanted to hear and Soojin noticed you get teary. She squeezed your hand again and you took a deep breath. "I can't lie that makes me happy" you said "but also scared. I won't ice you out Vernon but I also won't come running back to you. There's a lot that needs to change". Vernon nodded "of course and thank you so much for letting me try. I won't let you down Y/n!" he said and you nodded "okay Vernon" and hung up.

This time it was your hands that wouldn't stop shaking. "So how did it go?" Sojin asked and you paused "he says he's not giving up on us" and she smiled "that's pretty big for him right?". You nodded "let's just see if he lives up to it".

You honestly had no idea what to expect from Vernon's promise. You'd both left things undefined so you supposed Vernon could call you in a week's time or wave to you at an award show and think that was it...but he didn't.

To start with you got regular texts from Vernon in the morning and night but they weren't just the usual "good morning" texts. In each text, he would tell you something you used to do for him that he appreciated and as the days went by you were intrigued to see if he suddenly stopped or change themes but he didn't. He just kept coming up with more. It was a kind gesture that didn't demand anything of you and you appreciated it as the first step.

So the two of you started texting, Vernon would ask how your day was going and remember when you had a difficult day coming up and wish you luck. He was attentive, patient and supportive. So much so, 3 weeks later when Vernon tentatively mentioned meeting up after work for a coffee you agreed.

Typically to any date Vernon was late and would always have some sort of excuse. When you walked to the coffee shop and saw he wasn't outside you sighed. You waited until the time and then texted him asking if he was far. "I'm already here" he replied and you looked around confused when you saw him waving to you from inside. "I got here early and thought I'd wait inside but I should've told you I'm sorry" Vernon said anxiously but you just smiled "you got here early?". He nodded "of course, you're my priority Y/n and that will never change". You blushed and searched for something to change the conversation. "I should go get a drink" you said when Vernon shook his head "don't worry about that, chai with almond milk right?". You nodded "yeah but why?" when you saw him nod to the barista and who started making you your drink. "Sit he'll bring it over". "You remembered my drink?" you asked "and ordered for me?". "Why not?" Vernon asked "if I can make your day any better then I'll do that". You blushed and with nothing else to distract you just smiled.

You didn't want to get ahead of yourself but this date felt differently. It wasn't just you that did all the talking which usually happened on often because Vernon was too tired. Instead, Vernon talked a lot. He was very open with you about the things he was struggling with at the moment and how his appetite wasn't great. You knew you were probably the reason he looked a little skinnier lately and the second you hinted to that Vernon shook his head. "Don't be silly it's not you, our breakup wasn't your fault". "I mean but I ended it" you argued and Vernon shrugged "so? I did things to make you end it with time and I didn't fight it so it's my own fault. Don't blame yourself for telling me I needed to do better, I actually want to thank you for it". "You do?" you asked and Vernon nodded "yeah as much as it makes me nervous I needed to change. I wasn't fully living and was taking things for granted. You've helped open my eyes and the guys have all commented on the change in me. So no matter what thank you". You shook your head "I...you're welcome?" and Vernon chuckled. You forgot how much you missed the sound of his voice.

After that, you met up with Vernon regularly once a week. They didn't start off as dates but definitely got more light-hearted and date-like. Two weeks later after a restaurant date, you held Vernon's hand and he shot you a beautiful smile. A week after that you linked arms as you walked through the park and now Vernon would put his arm around whenever you sat down. Vernon was a lot more careful with you, in that he was aware of where you were at all times and was intuned to you. He'd move to face you without even thinking and would always take the seat to shade or protect you. You seemed to move in sync and you realised it was because it wasn't just you paying attention to him, he was paying attention to you too!

When you got home you were really happy and the girls noticed.

"What's got you so smiley?" Shuhua asked and you blushed making the girls all pay extra attention. "I bet it's Vernon!" Miyeon said in a sing-song voice and your further blush confirmed it. "Are things still going well?" Soyeon asked and you nodded "he's like a different person! Even when he first started dating he didn't behave like this and it makes me really happy". "That's so sweet" Minnie commented but Yuqi looked at you carefully "so what's wrong?". You sighed "well I don't know if I can trust him. Things are really great now but that doesn't erase everything that happened and he is still the same person deep down with the potential to do the same thing. I want to forgive him and try again but I just don't know if that's wise" you finished with a sigh looking down. The girls exchanged looks, saw they were all in agreement and turned to you.

"Y/n" Soojin said and you looked at her "what?". "I think you should take Vernon back?". "Really?" you asked and she nodded as did the other girls. "But what if he goes back to how he was? What if I look like a fool?". "Well I doubt that will happen" Soyeon said "for one thing you said he was never like this even when you first got back together so there's no reason for you to think he would decline. I think he really has changed. "He's proven himself" Minnie said "he's tried hard and shown he cares about you". "Yeah plus you can always dump his ass if he slips up again, trust me he'll feel more foolish than you" Yuqi said and that made you smile. So with the girls' support, you nodded.

The next time you saw Vernon you decided to tell him your decision but you knew you'd be nervous the whole date so instead you asked him to come to your first and all the girls made sure they were out. Vernon looked nervous when you opened the door and you got that. From your message, he probably worked out this wasn't a casual social call. Still, he gave you a smile when you opened the door and complimented your outfit. "Thank you, you look nice too" you replied and led him into your living room.

Once there you gestured for him to sit and took a seat across from him. "So I just wanted to have a clarifying talk because I know things have changed but we've not verbalised that". Vernon nodded "of course, I've really enjoyed how things have been doing by the way". "Me too" you nodded "but I just have one worry, that this will fade. I love all the care and attention but what if a month down the line things go back to how they were?" you asked Vernon. Vernon nodded "I know and I've considered this before. There's no physical proof I can give you other than my word. Y/n losing you was the worst thing that ever happened to me so I will do everything in my power to make sure that doesn't happen again. Not just that, you deserve way better than how I was treating you before and I'm ashamed of how I was acting. So I will never treat you like that again because I don't want to lose you but also because you deserve to be treated better. I want to cherish you Y/n because I'm lucky to have you and you bring so much into my life...I like you a lot Y/n" Vernon finished blushing but he never looked away from your eye. Not even for a second and you nodded.

"I like you too and I'm ready to try again" you replied.

Vernon's eyes lit up "you are? You're taking me back?" he asked and you nodded. "Y/n this is...I don't even have words!" he cried and dove on you making you laugh as he hugged you. He held you tightly, laughing too "thank you so much I love you" and then he froze "sorry I shouldn't have said that". "It's okay" you said "I'm not quite ready to say it back but thank you". Vernon nodded "no thank you" and he got to do something he never thought he'd be able to again.

He got to kiss you.

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simply-wlw-kpopstan · 3 months

Text

30. Minjeong to the rescue

You entered minjeongs room to find her sitting down on the ground, already fidgeting with new pieces of Lego to finish up one of the towers. "you know I kind of feel like a double agent since you showed me your private account."

"knowledge is power after all." you smiled as you sat down. " how did things go after I left?"

" the usual. Jimin said you weren't feeling well and that she told you to go and lay down. We ended up talking about all things that happened this semester including the Uhm... The Parker incident. He won't be around for much longer at the university, his dad is transferring him to some military thing or something. "

"you went over to his place after everything happened didn't you? Jimin and I talked about it and you told her you were with me, you told me you had other plans and the next day you have a bruised hand and Parker claimed he had a fight with some guy." you reached over for another bag of Lego pieces and started to build a new part of the castle.

"he had it coming. I knew you couldn't do it with your scholarship being on the line and he would have found a way to get you kicked out."

"he threatened with it when he saw me with jimin. Guess he didn't like people knowing he wasn't all that. Makes me wonder how he slept with so many girls if he isn't that good? Rumours spread fast around campus yet nothing about him being bad in bed until jimin dumped him. "

"he has money and looks, some girls don't care about anything but bragging rights. Who knows, maybe they tried to get something out of it themselves." she clicked the last piece onto the tower and connected to the growing structure in front of you. "enough about him. Why did you suddenly disappear?"

You sighed and thought it over, would minjeong listen and understand your feelings or would she defend jimin without thinking about it? One thing you know for sure is that she stays true to her feelings and opinions so she probably wouldn't just brush it off and defend her friend. "jimin came up to me in the kitchen and hugged me. I told her we probably shouldn't and then she turned me around, if I didn't push her away she would've kissed me. It was like she didn't see the problem in that. I was introduced as a friend and didn't want to be caught kissing their daughter in their kitchen at all. That would be disrespectful wouldn't it? "

"you were scared of getting caughed I understand that but you do realize your fighting over a hypothetical thing that could've happened? Unless you're mad about something else and are using this as an excuse. "

"i'm not." you frowned as minjeong gave you a look before focusing back on the Lego piece.

"so you're not mad about meeting her parents as a friend instead of her girlfriend?"

"No? We're taking things Slow and I understand if she isn't ready for any labels yet. I-"

"i'm gonna stop you right there before you try to sell me more bullshit." she layed down her work before stealing your lego's out of your hands," You've been acting like a couple long before you confessed to one another. If and I say if you are upset over the fact she was so careless you should tell her because right now she doesn't know why you're upset. Now if it is about meeting the parents as a friend you should've thought about that before you joined the trip, you knew they were coming and you knew jimin told them you were a friend. "

"since when are you a therapist?" you clocked an eyebrow.

"since the day I met these girls." she smirked.

"well if you'll excuse me I have to go and talk to jimin. I'll come back after so we can finish this castle."

"you better! We should be able to finish it in an hour together I think. Just don't let jimin drag you into bed, I'm waiting and the rooms aren't soundproof just so you know." she sent you a playful glance as you walked out laughing.

"noted!" you walked into the living room to see aeri and ning watching a new k-drama, Once aeri spotted you she motioned to the bedrooms. You made your way over to jimin's room and softly knocked on the door.

"yeah?" jimin's voice came softly from inside and you opened the bedroom door to see her laying on her bed with a book.

"Hey, I just wanted to say I'm sorry for today. I should've never put you in the position to make up an excuse for me to your parents." you quietly sat down on the bed as she placed the book on her bedside table.

"I don't care about that. What I do care about is that you got all weird without any explanation."

"I got upset over the fact that you were so careless about kissing me. It hadn't been a day since I met your parents and it felt wrong. They think I'm your friend and I got scared about them finding out that I'm not just a friend. That I..."

"that you?" She raised an eyebrow at your sudden silence.

"that the whole Parker thing was my fault."

"what are you talking about? You weren't -"

"jimin if we didn't sleep together when you were together with him, he wouldn't have hit you. Do your parents know why he did it?"

"They know enough, Parker probably told his dad that I cheated too. I don't know if my parents know but they'll find out eventually. It was my choice though, you didn't pressure me into anything. Parker chose to hit me and it's no one's fault except his."

You nodded as you looked down at the ground. The sound of blankets rustling filled the room before you felt arms wrap around your waist. Jimin placed a kiss on your shoulder as she nuzzled her nose into the crook of your neck. "I promised minjeong I'd come back after talking with you. Her exact words were 'don't let jimin drag you into bed'"

"I didn't drag you, you sat down voluntarily." she smiled against your skin, "wouldn't you rather spend time with me in bed then build Legos with minjeong?"

You sucked your teeth, "see that's were you get too cocky. Minjeong and I have a goal we need to achieve. I'll come back once we're done though." you turned towards her as she pulled back from you.

"wha- you're not kidding? You're actually choosing lego's over me?" She looked at you in disbelieve.

"I made a promise to my friend so yes." you smirked as you stood up, "I don't have favorite's you know."

"She's your friend, I'm your-" she cut herself off but you both knew what she was going to say. "just go." she blushed as she picked up her book.

To be honest you were debating on teasing her with that near slip up but decided to leave it for now. You leaned down and kissed her on the top of her head, jimin looked up with a smile and pouted her lips slightly. After planting another kiss on her lips you left her alone and went back to minjeong to finish the Lego castle.

masterlist | next

#aespa smau #karina smau #yu jimin x reader

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aoparteilee · 1 month

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Alya With a Chance of Defamation

Words: 1,230

Part 1 (here) - Part 2 (Soon)

Summary: Alya Césaire wasn't stupid. As an aspiring journalist, she knew to fact-check, double check, and every other check. She could connect details faster than her phone connects to the school wifi. And while she wore glasses, her eyes are ones of hawk's when spotting holes in a story.

She's also not a suck-up, or too much of a snitch. If something isn't harmful, she's gonna let it slide. What she won't let slide, however, is the deliberate dragging of her best friend's name.

or, Alya isn't as dense as she is in canon

When Lila Rossi first comes to Dupont, stories of travels and claims of connections spilling from her very bangs, involving a certain red and black clad super-heroine, Alya is a bit hind-sighted. Ladybug is not an easy lady to come by to request an interview, and while her partner in crime-fighting was a bit more open to conversations, the looming threat of identities that came in the form of beeping noises often pulled him away before he could share more.

She had many questions. How did they acquire their miraculous jewelry? How many miraculi were out there? Are there other ways besides Ladybug's yoyo and Chat Noir's Cataclysm to terminate akumas and prevent akumatizations? Do they have any leads on Hawkmoth's whereabouts and identity? Will they leave once Hawkmoth is gone?

Marinette had snagged her an interview with the heroine before, but it had been more about her thoughts surrounding her heroism and how the super suit worked.

She is brimming with excitement to question the new student when she remembers one, tiny detail: How could Lila even know Ladybug before coming to Paris?

According to the girl, she first came from Italy before moving here because her parents were important Italian diplomats. Knowing about Ladybug's existence is possible. By this point of time news of the superheroes has become old and accepted as something that just is and another weird thing about France. But how could a girl all the way in Italy personally know a superhero in Paris who most likely, lives in Paris.

Alya won't write it down as fact, but judging from how akuma attacks were always in Paris, whomever had given Ladybug and Chat Noir their miraculi must have given it to people from Paris. If, hypothetically, Ladybug were from Italy, she gets to Paris so fast it's unreal. How do person all the way across the continent hear about an akumatization so fast they get to Paris in around 5 minutes?

She looks beside her, to her best friend, and from the looks of it Marinette is thinking along the same lines. She's wearing a frown and her nose is scrunched in that manner that she only ever does when Chloe is being more irritating than usual.

Something is rotten in the state of Lila Rossi.

Okay, Alya will admit, she- as a little kid, mind you- had lied to her fellow students about whatever was trending being something she followed to sound cool. Everyone at one point lied about something to sound cool in front of their peers. It's a part of the beautiful cycle of life! But this is getting out of hand.

Lying about knowing celebrities is one thing, but making promises about helping her classmates reach their dreams with her "connections" was just mean. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes when Lila had told her about setting her up an appointment with Ladybug for an interview. She politely declined, wrapping her arm around Marinette's shoulder and saying, "Thanks, but there's no need, Lila. Miss Dupain-Cheng over here happens to also be friends with Ladybug. In fact, my blog's most viewed video, an interview with Ladybug, was arranged by her! I think I'm all set."

Marinette gives a small grin and flicks the hand by her shoulder playfully.

Lila's expression falters, her mouth twisting down from her welcoming 'I-can-grant-you-opportunities' smile into a displeased downturn.

Bingo.

She quickly smiles again, and moves to harass Mylene with her actor connections.

Alya is not a genius psychoanalyzing scholar. She's never been too good at reading people, often being labeled a bit naive back in her old school. But she's not stupid, nor is she blind. She saw and she knows.

Fortunately for Lila, she hasn't lied about something stupid and illegal enough that Alya would feel the need to call her out for.

She's lied before, so what if this girl's a little more intense? No harm done. Her friends aren't stupid nor blind either.

As long as no one is getting hurt, who cares if the new girl is trying to show off a bit?

Marinette cares. Marinette cares a lot.

"You do know Ladybug wouldn't publicly have a best friend right?" she squished Alya's cheeks, making her laugh a bit. "That would be dumb, because then the said best friend would be targeted by Hawkmoth and-"

"Babes, relax, I know she's a little bit of a liar," Alya reassures. "Just don't bother with her. Soon enough the hype will die down and she'll realize we're humoring her. You never lied to sound cool before?"

Marinette paused, then seemed to relax, slumping against her. "Oh. Good. Okay, so at least you know."

Alya laughed again.

What was Marinette worried about? Lila's a harmless liar. It'll die down in a few days, probably.

"Marinette, I don't know what rough fight you and Ladybug might have gone through, but that's no excuse to threaten her identity!" Lila exclaimed the very next day to confused but listening class, if only to humor the girl. "Don't you know what could happen if Hawkmoth were to find out?"

Marinette blinked tiredly up at the girl, bags under her eyes and hair askew. "Say that again? My ears are still ringing from that commotion last night."

Yesterday's akuma had been a little boy who loved New Years and was frustrated that the date was taking so long to come. With Hawkmoth being the negativity leech he is, he had turned the boy into Fireworker, who made loud booming noises across Paris that resembled fireworks and shot beautiful lights at the two heroes who tried to get a grasp at what the akuma's object was while trying not to explode in beautiful lights. It had gone until 2 AM, when they realized the boy had actually left the object in his drawer figuring it was the safest place in the world.

Poor Marinette lived in the bakery that was right on the street where the akuma and the heroes were fighting and couldn't sleep with the noise.

Lila flusters, but goes on. "Yesterday! Ladybug told me how selfish you were and wouldn't help with the akuma! Then you threatened her identity after calling her annoying! For sake, the fight was right next to you!"

She expected people from the class to back her up on this, but no one did. They all looked at her like she'd grown two heads, both of which were empty.

Alya is the first to break the awkward silence. "Ladybug avoids asking civilians for help unless she's absolutely desperate. Beside the usual dangers of the akuma last night being destructive to buildings, it was nowhere out of the ordinary and Ladybug and Chat Noir ended up defeating the akuma on their own."

While her classmates back her up, and Lila begins to panic, Marinette is still looking groggy. She looks as if she hadn't heard a word. Alya couldn't blame her, while the Miraculous cure worked wonders to property damage, it didn't really change the effects the akuma had on people.

Encouraging Marinette to sleep, she silently fumed. She hadn't cared for Lila's lies at first. Everyone lies sometimes, after all. But this was deliberate. Trying to slander her best friend of all people?

Lila forgets, Alya is a journalist. And she knows a thing or two about bringing someone down with words.

#alya cesaire #alya sugar #lila salt #lila rossi #lila gets whats coming for her #soon enough #mlb #fanfic #fic #prompt #au #mlb au #au where people have braincells #except lila apparently but whats new really

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comradekatara · 1 month

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How much do I need to pay for some more aang and suki shenanigans?

same girl!!! their friendship (that is almost entirely hypothetical and mostly exists in my head) is soo important to me i just know they’re best friends. like obviously the fact that suki is close with appa and momo already signifies a lot about the nature of their relationship, but they barely interact throughout the show, which makes sense considering that suki is mostly there to supplement sokka’s character and all her other interactions with the gaang are fairly limited (katara and suki friendship though….. also deeply important. to me). but as the most emotionally healthy, stable, self-possessed, and just straight up cool members of the gaang, i just know they’d get along like a house on fire.

i think suki would pretty quickly come to see aang as a little brother figure the same way sokka does, and suki would be the big sister he never had in return. and they definitely get into all kinds of little adventures together after the war, like aang telling suki about the cactus juice incident and suki immediately being like “omg we NEED to try that (don’t tell sokka and katara)”, or going around helping rebuild villages and relocate displaced peoples together, or pranking each other in increasingly crazier ways.

oh yes the aang and suki prank war is very real (toph and katara have a concurrent prank war going on of course; zuko who is far too sensitive & gullible, and sokka who is far too anxious, refuse to be caught in the crosshairs of either of these conflicts). it starts at the western air temple and ends when both of them are dead. everyone on kyoshi island genuinely worships aang like a god and so they think suki is absolutely fucking insane for putting cactus juice in his smoothie right before he’s supposed to deliver a big speech, but she’s just like “no it’s gonna be so fucking funny, just trust me.” (and it is.)

the “putting a “snake” in your sleeping bag and humiliating you in front of your almost boyfriend and his hot dad -> reading katara a really bad poem and then claiming that aang wrote it for her -> loosening the bedframe in your bedroom on ember island so that it crashes during sex (the point at which aang learned NEVER to make sokka collateral damage in these escapades) -> making the whole gaang sit through a colonialist propaganda play just because you know it’ll piss aang off -> putting hot sauce in your red face paint so that it stings and burns your eyelids so bad throughout the entirety of zuko’s coronation day -> nearly causing an international incident because you straight up endangered the life of the avatar” pipeline is so fucking real you guys.

and for what it’s worth, a lot of people assume that aang and suki actually hate each other, and that’s why they’re so invested in this prank war. but they love each other deeply, and that’s evident whenever they’re not in the middle of concocting a nefarious revenge plot, like when they go for long walks together, or just sit and chill outside, or cook together, or any other one of the many other activities they enjoy in each other’s company. they don’t hold grudges either. the pranking is fun for them because they’re both secure enough in themselves to understand that it’s being done out a shared sense of joy and whimsy, and not out of any desire to genuinely antagonize the other. to be fair, sometimes their pranks do actually go too far in various ways, but again, no hard feelings. it’s just a testament to the skill of the pranker, and an invitation for the other to step up their game.

#professordino #asks #aang #suki #aang&suki #go thru that tag for more aang&suki shenaningans. btw #they are so important to me #as are all big sister little brother relationships…… for no reason in particular . of course

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i-draws-dinosaurs · 4 months

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can we get a fact check for tier zoo's utahraptor vs smilodon video?

The 3D models by Kuzim and the animation by Wobbly Works are absolutely gorgeous and I wish they were being used for pretty much anything else other than "which of these prehistoric animals would win in a fight".

Look. I love hypotheticals. Exploring weird hypothetical questions about prehistoric life can be very fun and can act as a good vehicle to discuss actual facts about them. But the format of a pitched battle between two animals is such a tired cliche that I don't think contributes any value and in fact detracts from the educational content by casting these animals as combatants for one to claim superiority of the other in a violent showdown.

Even when the animation is pretty and naturalistic and clearly done with a great deal of care, I can't help but look at this and think,,, what's the point? What are we proving here?

I'm not a big fan of Tierzoo in general, the "what if nature was video games" bit gets old pretty quickly and most of his ranking seems to just be "which organism is more powerful and better at killing stuff or defending itself?"

I feel like ranking animals by how strong or "well-adapted" they are fundamentally misses the point? All life is adapted to suit its environment. Not only does a species' "success" depend on a whole bunch of factors outside combat ability, but there's still no difference in value as a living being between "unsuccessful" and "successful" species no matter what metric you want to use?

Maybe I'm digging too deep into this and I know Tierzoo's videos aren't meant to be taken as a serious value judgement on each animal he features, but I just think it's a fundamentally flawed and unhelpful lens with which to view the natural world.

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piastrispastry · 1 month

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First we had the rumors of Kimi Antonelli going to Williams, replacing Logan Sargeant as soon as Imola.

Quite frankly, this makes absolutely zero sense. How on Earth can the Cratchit’s of the F1 world right now afford the boy people are proclaiming is “the next Max Verstappen”? They couldn’t afford a spare chassis for the first five races let alone a whole driver swap.

Secondly, Williams failed Logan in bringing him up to F1 too early, that is a fact that I believe James himself has admitted (though don’t quote me on that). So say they do, hypothetically, bring Kimi up it would just show that they have learned absolutely nothing. It would have meant that Kimi would be doomed to fail.

Kimi is not ready. It’s as simple as that. He’s skipped F3, had three races in an F2 level car so is only just finding his feet. Never mind the fact he is only 17, a literal child. There are so many voices trying to put him down because he is not winning every race in F2 yet who totally forget these things. He has quite literally went from the baby pool with armbands only to have them taken off him and pushed in the deep end with the instructor saying “now swim!”.

I have every faith in him that maybe, come next season he might be ready for F1. Maybe in 2026. That’s ok too, he’s young, he has time. Putting him in the hardest car on the grid to drive is stupid.

Logan’s made mistakes yet, but he is again in a car which is extremely hard to drive. He deserves the second chance Williams claimed to have given him, I am yet to see that chance. I hope he will get a point at his home race just to throw it in Williams’ face.

So no, I don’t believe this rumor.

#f1 #formula 1 #piastrispastry #jess’ f1 rants #logan sargeant #kimi antonelli #organising this is so therapeutic what the hell #williams f1 #williams racing #logan sargeant deserves better

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frazzledsoul · 3 months

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The real generational parallel in Gilmore Girls no one wants to point out is that Rory is the new Christopher.

They both supposedly fucked around during their twenties, coasting on family money and the generosity of an old flame (Lorelai, Logan), working temporary jobs but never settling down to anything stable. Rory, like Christopher, claims she's got a gazillion "irons in the fire" but like Christopher, it's all illusory and not leading her anywhere. AYITL era Rory, like Christopher at 32 (when we meet him) prides herself on not being committed to anyone or anything: she's been on and off with Logan for years and seems to be involved in what the kids these days call a long term "situationship" that keeps either of them from fully moving on but also requires no real effort or commitment from her. She has no steady job, no home, no permanent income, slacks or gives up on most of her projects, mooches off of everyone she knows, and shows little desire to change these things. Everyone else in her age group (Logan, Jess, Paris, Lane, Dean) is either professionally or personally successful and has found their direction in life while she flies around in every single direction. Despite the cheating (if that's what it really is: the fact that he's so sloppy about it kind of implies he's got permission to fool around) Logan is fairly stable: yes, he ended up working for his dad but we actually see him working, he seems to get along with Mitchum and doesn't seem particularly unhappy about his lot in life. He also is fairly supportive of Rory and encouraged her to settle down and get a job: after all, that's what he did and his life's not so terrible. She seems to want to know nothing about him or his life. Look at it from Mitchum or Honor's perspective, if they knew all the details: exactly who is holding who back from realizing their potential? Heck, Mitchum pulls strings to get Rory that Conde Nast interview and she shows up expecting to be handed assignments and with no input or ideas of her own. Like Lorelai, Logan has a fairly nice life except for the unreliable old girlfriend who doesn't want to settle down and takes and takes but never gives back. And unlike the affair with Dean, Rory is aware of all the circumstances involved with Logan and chooses to keep fucking him anyway. She has not been lied to or misled in any way or promised a relationship that she wanted but he didn't, nor does she seem to want Logan around full time, either. She seems to like that nothing much is expected of her here and likely chooses to stay because of that.

What finally could hypothetically force Rory to choose a path in life, a home, a steady job? Oh, yeah. The unplanned pregnancy with the ex that she finally decides she doesn't want at all anymore. Jess may have helped provide her with a potential career path and be poised to be a larger part of her life in the future, but none of that is a guarantee and her overall circumstances haven't changed. However, now she's going to be forced to truly be responsible for the first time in a long time. Just like Dad.

#i am not implying rory should get back together with logan for the sake of the kid or anything #just that if you look at it from his perspective she really is the flighty and irresponsible one #and the parallels are definitely there #rory gilmore #gilmore girls #hawt take

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tweedlebugged · 6 months

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Yes, yes, James Somerton’s videos are down, the evil is defeated, etc etc. But honestly I’m just mad that I’ll never be able to back up my theory that the origin story of his whole bizarre “Sexy Nazis invented fitness culture” thing was just him ripping off the podcast Maintenance Phase. Badly.

(Almost like he built a career off stealing from other queer creators and not checking his sources or something idk)

If you haven’t had a chance to listen yet, Maintenance Phase is an extensively researched podcast from two queer writers (this may sound familiar) Michael Hobbes and Aubrey Gordon, dedicated to debunking myths about health and wellness. The very FIRST episode contains the facts:

1) The Nazis were very concerned about fitness due to fascism-based views of the body, and engaged in group exercise similar to modern calisthenics classes.

2) This kind of group fitness was closely associated with the Nazis in the consciousness of Americans, partially because of Nazi propaganda films portraying it.

3) Americans were less measurably fit than Europeans because they didn’t do the same kind of group exercises, and this was attributed to American softness.

Hypothetically: If you are a lazy asshole who built a career stealing from more talented creators and recounting a funhouse version of history based on half-remembered facts you don’t bother to verify, you very well might have only absorbed those facts initially and come to the weird hot Nazi conclusion (if you’re into that I guess?)

Or MAYBE you do kind of remember (hypothetically!) the actual sequence of described in the episode - that because Nazis were associated with group fitness activities due to propaganda films etc, American physical education turned really quickly from similar styles of group fitness to less regimented exercise activities like sports. This shift meant American children performed more poorly on standardized physical fitness measurements than European children, which was blamed on American softness/decadence.

But this doesn’t support your pre-existing (hot Nazi???) biases, so you cherry pick only the facts that you can distort into a conclusion that DOES. (This may also sound familiar.) Hypothetically!!!

For bonus points! I’m pretty sure the connection between poverty, nutrient poor and carb rich diets, and fatness is also something they’ve discussed in other episodes, but unrelated to the depression or hot Nazis or less hot Soviets (taken with a grain of salt because I am tragically also kind of a lazy asshole just going off half-remembered vibes on this one)

TL;DR: If you heard the bit where James Somerton claimed that sexy Nazis inspired Americans to create modern fitness culture and thought “that doesn’t sound right but I don’t know enough about fitness and the Nazis to dispute it” you should check out Maintenance Phase because I’m pretty sure it’s both uncited source and debunking rolled into one.

#but I can’t PROVE it because I can’t see the date or watch the video anymore JAMES #james somerton #maintenance phase #todd in the shadows #showing up late with Starbucks and conspiracy theory twine to shout into the void

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sapphorror · 4 months

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Short Moderate Length List of Small(ish) Things I Appreciate About The Wettening

Dib being conspicuously absent from the opening pan of the classroom, only to cartoon-teleport into existence at Zim’s desk the second Zim starts expressing mild apprehension at the sight of unfamiliar weather. This kid spends his time just hanging around staring at Zim, waiting for him to show the slightest sign of discomfort, confusion, or unease in order to immediately taunt him about it—and the surrounding chaos, if anything, is just an opportunity to come watch even more closely. We all already knew this, but it still kills me to see it in action.

Also, he’s animated popping up from below, and like… were we meant to interpret this as him just chilling underneath Zim’s desk? No, absolutely not—but is it funny (and, to add to the hilarity, miraculously somehow not completely unbelievable within the context of the show) to imagine that he was? Yes. Yes it is.

Zim confidently walking out into a downpour he has already confirmed to be acidic just because Dib implicitly dared him to—no one’s looking, Dib hasn’t even said anything or made a claim against his humanity, Zim just can’t stand to give Dib the satisfaction of seeing him vulnerable or afraid of something (which backfires pretty spectacularly, since I’m pretty sure ‘writhing on the ground shrieking in indescribable agony’ is a significantly worse look in terms of appearing vulnerable, but all’s well that ends in Victory For Zim, I guess).

Also Zim's little baffled gesture right beforehand like he's silently asking Dib to confirm he's not hallucinating the rain dance (he does not receive an answer)

Gaz presumably seeing Zim sneaking up behind her brother, saying nothing and making no reaction that’ll tip Dib off… only to immediately be made to regret her choices when she gets caught in another splash. Shows her for trusting Zim to be at least a little bit cool about tormenting Dib (honestly, we see her exact fitting justice on Dib at the end of the episode, but I cannot imagine she wasn't still planning to do something equally petty to Zim).

The faucet drip scene and the underlying awareness that this is just what Zim and Dib do to each other during class. Every day. It is, in fact, probably one of the least disruptive forms their constant warfare takes on a routine basis. Suddenly I understand a little bit of why their entire class hates them.

Also Dib’s happy face while he's terrorizing Zim into a shell-shocked stupor is absurdly cute and heartwarming. If I cropped that picture no one would ever guess what he's smiling about. This kid? A sadist? Impossible.

“I don’t even feel good about winning this one,” and it's said with his hands clasped together, practically vibrating with glee, his expression vaguely reminiscent of a teenager in the throes of hormonal infatuation (the hypothetical object in this case not so much being Zim himself as a personified abstraction of Zim’s suffering). If someone hit him with the Return of Keef happy goo in this exact moment, I am completely certain it would kill him. His statement is only true insofar that a more accurate term for his current state of being would probably be euphoric. I take back everything I’ve ever said about Zim being unreasonable in this episode—he was merciful.

Also this face the moment Zim gets up and starts threatening him. Zim still isn't even all that intimidating at the moment, but Dib knows he just fucked up. Maybe he's getting flashbacks to Dark Harvest.

Dib’s ridiculous water balloon device. Seriously. I feel like it gets (reasonably) overshadowed by the sheer absurdity of Zim’s entire operation, but it really is so amazingly stupid and pointless in a way that is… not dissimilar to the ultimate Irken water balloon. Not only is it really not necessary for the task it's meant to accomplish, it's actively detrimental in that it slows Dib down, blatantly telegraphs his attacks, and reduces accuracy by a significant degree. The only actual benefits I can think of would be the exponential increase in force and range and the instant accessibility of a water supply—the former of which is totally unnecessary in this scenario and the latter being possible to accomplish with a much simpler device (or even just… a water tank). To summarize, it is an incredibly impressive feat of both skill and creativity in design that is also completely and utterly useless! Which is just the perfect demonstration of what I mean when I say Dib really does share nearly all of Zim’s flaws, just to a less obviously ridiculous degree—he comes off just calm and clever enough to pass as moderately reasonable at a glance, and in some ways, that makes him more of a potential flight risk than Zim. At least that's a lunatic you see coming.

Irkens are collapsible, apparently

#invader zim #zim #dib #gaz #meta #just a little #my meta #iz posting #zadp #natterings #for the record i am not unaware of the irony in saying zims the lunatic you see coming #when the empire was ultimately surprised by the worst of his crimes enough times over that he was able to commit them all #and even now after impending doom 1 and the trial he is STILL consistently underestimated in the damage he can continue to do #whereas dib has spent his entire life being called crazy by literally everyone he knows (and many he doesnt)#all for ENTIRELY the wrong reasons #but hey #thats exactly the kind of counterintuitive comedy that the iz universe runs on #anyway i may or may not do this for more episodes as i rewatch with my sibling #or honestly just in general #because there is nothing i enjoy more than pointing out tiny details that are entertaining to no one besides me #i've always been especially fond of the wettening though #like literally always dating back to when i was 7 #probably earlier but my memories only go back so far #its very fun seeing how wildly the specifics of how i love this show have drifted over the years #favorite episodes. favorite characters (i mean always gaz on some level but the ones that plague me the most)#but it is sometimes even better to observe the very specific points that have remained constant #if still evolving in complexity

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buthowboutno · 6 months

Note

DONNIES POV OF THE LATEST CHAPTER... PRETTY PLEASE? 🥺

you've caught me in an amenable mood, sure!

Here's a Donnie POV from the very end of chapter 24 <3

(it's v unedited, apologies)

---

"Wow," April said as she leaned on the counter next to Donnie, "They're really out cold."

Donnie snorted and continued his task of gathering up the empty bottles around the bar.

(He liked to repurpose glass when he could. The more time he spent re-shaping it into his desired purposes it was less time he had to keep depending on subpar tech companies.)

"Just wait until you put a movie on in front of Sweets," Donnie retorted, "I've never seen someone pass out so quickly."

April hummed, gathering up bottles in her own bag, "Should we wake them up and send them home? I bet Leo would make an extra pit stop for them.

"Uh," Donnie said, tilting his head in confusion, "They're spending the night."

"You're not making them sleep on the couch, Donnie."

"I am not making them sleep on the couch, April."

"Sunny and I are taking the spare bed."

"Yes."

"The Casey's have already claimed the cots in the med bay."

"Correct again," Donnie said stiffly, a faint blush rising on his cheeks, "We... Sweets and I usually share my bed."

"Ohhh," April said, trailing off, "Okay. I see."

"There's nothing to see," Donnie argued, "It's simply the most sensible and economical solution. It would be a waste of resources to keep a spare bed fresh and clean with the frequency of Sweet's visits."

"I'm sure."

"Good," Donnie said with a huff, his gaze falling back on you. Your chest rose and fell softly as you slept. Your hand rested against your forehead and twitched as the breeze started to pick up.

It was getting colder again. Truly unprecedented weather patterns this year. If Donnie was a betting man, he would expect snow again before May.

(The month, not Sweet's roommate.)

(Duh, Donatello.)

"I think that's the last of the bags," Raph said, popping his head out of the portal Leo was maintaining just to the side of the pool, "You guys need anything?"

"Wanna get sleepyhead inside?" April said, jerking her head in your direction, "I'm worried about them catching a cold."

"No," Donnie said quickly, practically on instinct.

April raised an eyebrow at Donnie. Her eyes glimmered with satisfaction for just a moment as she schooled her face back to a neutral expression.

Donnie didn't have the energy for her presumptions right now. Not after the last few weeks.

"Raph, do you mind finishing up the bottles for me?" Donnie asked. He already tossed his bag over to Raph before he got an answer and was quickly approaching your side.

You scrunched your face up as Donnie gently raised your head off the chair and managed to settle your torso against his. You were solidly snoozing again with your face pressed against Donnie's neck by the time he managed to slide an arm under your legs.

Donnie pointedly did not look at April and Raph as he stepped through the portal and avoided Casey's blatant staring with a swift departure down his hallway.

You muttered something incomprehensible as Donnie took an especially sharp turn.

It was like a second nature for Donnie to chirp at you and press his cheek against the top of your head as he activated the door to the lab. It was one of the things that Donnie was actively choosing not to think about.

(He had a list.)

(Hypothetically.)

(If there were things that he needed to address.)

(Which there weren't.)

Donnie was so preoccupied in his thoughts that he didn't even think about the fact that he had managed to get a hoodie onto you without considering any of the necessary steps he needed to take before that. Namely, getting your swimsuit off first.

He... Donnie didn't think he should be doing that.

"Sweets, you need to go get changed," Donnie said softly, trying to lift you to your feet from where he had set you onto the bed.

(He tried not to think about the wet mark you left behind on his blankets.)

(Where was his mind today?)

You managed to blearily open your eyes and nodded at him. You allowed him to guide you to the bathroom and obediently took the pair of sweatpants he pressed into your hands.

Donnie shut the door behind you and took a deep, steadying breath. He willed his mind to that calming blankness he reached for during meditation. There was no other option, really.

Not on the fumes Donnie was barely running off of.

Ten seconds in.

Change out of his swim trunks. Place in hamper.

Fifteen out.

Replace the comforter, deal with it in the morning.

Twenty seconds in.

Take off his battle shell. Set it on the charger.

Twenty-five --

You opened the door to the bathroom, the light pouring in behind you as you yawned widely. You half-stumbled, half-walked towards his bed.

Donnie had to catch you as you attempted to pull yourself onto his sheets, your hands failing to find traction on the satin.

You giggled sleepily, your hand landing on the collar of Donnie's hoodie while he attempted to tuck you in. You managed to find his arm and tugged at it, humming happily as you managed to pull it to your chest.

Donnie, already leaning over the bed and in grave danger of losing his balance, had to make a quick choice.

Pull away, calm his heartrate, and go sleep on the lab couch, or...

He could stay.

He couldn't--

Could he--?

You would never--

You made the decision for him, in the end, whether you were conscious of it or not. You pulled forward Donnie with the whole weight of your torso as you leaned farther into his bed.

It was all Donnie could do to keep from squishing you beneath him as he landed on the bed. He would be lying if he said he didn't delight in the fact that you were so near, that every bone in his body wasn't screaming at him to stay close to you at all times.

You snored softly next to Donnie, your ability to pass out within an instant never lagging.

He... would be staying. It didn't seem worth it to disturb you more than Donnie had to.

That was the most reasonable justification that Donnie could find, in any case.

(He really needed to get his hindbrain in order.)

"Shelldon, lights off."

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