#after the high of the celebration is over how does she feel? everything was okay in the end... but it was someone else

[lucabyte]

the few faces you ever got to see (x)

[azuresaqua]

little gifts

warnings + notes: kinich x reader, fluff, 2,4k words, secret santa submission for @vxnuslogy :) HI VEE !!!! i am your secret santa this year i hope you liked the fic :] tried to incorporate the things you like in this fic so !!! <3

PRESENT TIME

You consider Kinich to be a sentimental person. Why? Because when you accidentally stumble upon a box in your shared closet with the label “from my love” which is filled with things you had gotten him before and while you were dating, everything is in perfect condition. Nothing is broken, dirty, not a speck of dust in sight - as if he’d been secretly taking care of it.

“You’re snooping through my stuff now?” Kinich’s voice echoes through the room, laced with a slight amusement. He walks closer to you, peering inside the box. “Oh, you found it.”

“You kept all this?” you ask, taking out the first item in the box which is a little dragon keychain with a broken handle.

-

FIRST GIFT - DRAGON KEYCHAIN

The first time you ever gave Kinich a gift was during one of your “dates”. It wasn’t really a date, now that you actually think about it. It was way before the two of you started dating and Mualani and Kachina were there with you, so basically it was more of a hangout rather than a date (but Kinich will still think of it as a one).

The four of you had just finished the final exams of your last semester in university (while Kachina had just finished her last exams in high school), and Mualani had suggested to go hang out at a nearby mall to celebrate finally finishing exams. Of course, you and Kachina agreed almost instantly while Kinich had to be dragged by you and Mualani to come along.

“Ah, the mall!” Mualani took in a deep breath of “mall air” as she calls it and placed her hands on her hips, a triumphant smile on her face. “I’m finally back!” she threw her arms open, people passing by staring at her weirdly. “Y/N, tell me, how does it feel to finally be back in the mall after that tortuous week of non-stop studying?” Mualani slung a hand over your shoulder.

“I was back here just a few days ago…” you admitted, Mualani giving you a betrayed look. “I’m sorry! My parents took me out for dinner when they saw how hard I was studying last week.” you gave Mualani an apologetic look and she sighs.

“Okay, I’ll forgive you this time,” Mualani said and then gave you a cheeky smile. “However…” she trails off, changing her cheeky smile into something more… suspicious.

“What do you have in mind?” you asked nervously. Mualani isn’t mean, everyone knows that, but sometimes her plans are extraordinary, to say the least. What you were afraid of was accidentally letting out your secret of having a crush on Kinich. “Don’t be-” you tried whispering in her ear but Mualani suddenly grabbed Kinich’s hand and pulled him closer to you.

“My plan for today is to give each other gifts for finishing our exams!” Mualani exclaimed a little too excitedly. You had your suspicions that she just came up with that idea like five seconds ago, but you had no energy left to argue with her. “I was going to use spin the wheel to choose who gets who, but since someone went to the mall without us knowing,” she gave you a side eye. “I’m pairing you with Kinich!”

“Isn’t this a little unfair?” you complained.

“What’s unfair?” Mualani gave you a wink. “I think it’s a perfect opportunity to show whether or not you know the other person well.”

Kinich, who hadn’t been saying anything for the past ten minutes or so, suddenly spoke up. “That’s fine with me. I think this is a fun event.”

“See?” Mualani said. “Even Kinich doesn’t mind. As a matter of fact, I think you’re the only one who disagrees with this plan of mine.”

You narrowed your eyes, spotting Kachina behind Mualani who was watching this whole ordeal with an amused smile on her face. “Hey! Kachina hasn’t said anything. Wouldn’t it be rude of us just to go along with this if one person hasn’t said anything yet?”

Kachina, thrusted into the spotlight, flushed with embarrassment. “I-I don’t mind, really. I think it’s a fun activity.”

You stared at Kachina with a ‘you betrayed me’ look in your eyes and groaned in defeat. Eventually, after some more discussions, you split up - Kachina with Mualani and you with Kinich.

It was a quiet walk around the mall, you not knowing what to say and because Kinich is… well, Kinich. It’s nerve-wracking, really, being around him alone. You opened your mouth to say something but closed it back again not knowing how to say it.

Kinich might have noticed you getting all nervous because he suddenly spoke up. “Wanna split up? That way we’ll be surprised when we see the items we got.”

“Oh, yeah sure! That’s a good idea,” you replied. “So…”

“I’ll go this way.” Kinich pointed to his left. “We’ll meet back here in 40 minutes?”

“Okay,” you replied and saw Kinich walk away with his hands in his pockets. You let out a shaky breath, lightly slapping yourself on your cheeks to focus. “I can do this. Just get him something he likes.”

Around ten minutes of you walking around five different stores, you felt defeated. There was nothing you could find for Kinich in this mall, heck, you didn’t even know what he liked! He’d never been vocal about anything that piqued his interest, and even if he does find something cool, he fixates on it for a few minutes and then suddenly seems to lose interest.

Then, an idea pops into your head. The few times you’ve been in Kinich’s home (with the others of course), you’ve seen a few dragon stickers on his table and his wardrobe. There are just a few, but you have noticed that maybe Kinich likes anything related to dragons.

Walking into a store that sells many little trinkets, you spotted a cute little dragon keychain. There were a few options on display, but the blue, black, and green dragon keychain caught your eye. It resembled Kinich so well that it’s basically him in dragon form. It was subtle but enough for someone to catch if you were to squint your eyes at his bag.

“Perfect,” you muttered, grabbing it and walking over to the cashier. Walking back to the spot you agreed to rendezvous in, you spotted him already waiting there for you, a bag in his hands and his attention focused on his phone. “Kinich!”

He lifted his head and placed his phone in his pocket. “You sure took your time.”

“Sorry,” you apologized. “It took me a while to choose the perfect gift.”

“It’s okay,” Kinich said. “Mualani said to meet up in this cafe on the second floor.” You nodded and followed him up to the cafe.

Mualani and Kachina were already sitting on the chairs with gift bags on the table. Mualani saw the two of you and waved her arm, signaling you to come over. “Hey! What took you guys so long? We ordered some cheesecake and drinks,” you and Kinich sat down on the sofa side, making yourself comfortable.

“You know me so well, Mualani,” you teased, taking one plate of the cheesecake. “Oh, this is yummy.”

“Right?!” Kachina exclaimed, almost too excitedly. “Best cheesecake I’ve ever tasted.”

Mualani laughed, giving her a pat on her head. “Seems like someone has been missing out on some cheesecakes during her exam period,” Kachina let out an embarrassed laugh. “Well! Since we’re all here, let’s get to the present exchange shall we?”

“Wait- now?” you almost choked on your dessert, “Shouldn’t we finish our food first?”

“Where’s the fun in that? Eating cheesecake while opening our presents is a fun time!” Mualani explained. “Since you complained, you’re going first.”

“Hey-!” you tried to complain, but Kinich handed his gift to you. “You could’ve at least waited for me to finish eating.” You took one more bite out of your cheesecake and exchanged gifts with him.

“You can go first,” Kinich said, urging you to open the present.

You hummed and opened the bag. You gasped when you saw what was inside. Now, Mualani didn’t specify how many gifts you were supposed to buy for the other, but anyone would have thought one was enough. But Kinich had in fact gotten you three gifts.

You took out the first two items which were books, the ones you had been dreaming of buying but didn’t have enough money for. “You got me Franz Kafka’s books?! Kinich, this is too much.”

“I don’t think so,” Kinich replied softly. “You’ve been working so hard these past few weeks for our exams so I think you deserve them.”

You swear you were about to cry from how sweet his words are. Taking out the last gift was what made you cry for real - it was a bracelet, and once again, one you have been wanting to buy for a long time but not enough money to buy it. The pretty pink charms captivated you the moment you laid your eyes on it. Happy tears streamed down your face as you looked up at Kinich. “Isn’t this over your budget?”

“I have been saving my money since I didn’t really have anything I wanted to buy,” Kinich answered, giving you the sweetest smile in the world.

“How did you know I wanted these?” you asked.

“You mentioned it a few times before,” Kinich replied. “During our hangouts and free time. The last time we went to the mall together I remember you walking into the bookstore, staring at those two in particular for a long time.”

“Huh? Wait a minute, when did the two of you go out together?” Mualani asked, wiggling her eyebrows. “I don’t think you’ve ever-” You almost leapt across the table to cover Mualani’s mouth, to prevent her from saying more.

“You and Kachina were busy, and I was bored, so I asked Kinich to hang out with me,” you said, clearing your throat. You grabbed the small bag next to you, suddenly feeling anxious about giving it to him. “I feel bad for only giving you this one item, but I tried my best, I promise.”

Kinich took the bag from your hands and retrieved the little dragon keychain you bought. He stared at it for ten seconds without saying anything, and you thought he was about to say he didn’t like it, but when a smile appeared on his face, you felt relieved. “This is really cute, thank you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything else,” you felt embarrassed only getting him so little. “This was the only thing I found that reminded me of you.”

Kinich blinked and you swear you saw the tip of his ears turn red, but you brushed it off, thinking it was just the lighting. “No, I love it, really…”

Mualani suddenly cleared her throat. “Did you two forget we were here or something? Stop flirting in front of us!”

You choked out an embarrassed noise. “We are not flirting!”

“Was too!”

“Was not!”

In the midst of bickering with Mualani it was a shame you didn’t notice how Kinich’s eyes were trained on you the whole time.

-

PRESENT TIME

“Remember the way me and Mualani were arguing on whether or not we were openly flirting in front of her and Kachina?” you giggle. “Pretty sure Kachina couldn’t look us in the eyes for a few days after that.”

Kinich squats down next to you, holding the dragon keychain in his hands. “Yeah, that was really funny to see,” he flips it around, examining it. “It’s a shame we can’t fix the handle. I really loved using it on my bag.”

“We can always get a new one, you know?” you reply. “Besides, I’m pretty sure this was cheap…”

Kinich laughs. “Now that I think about it, our gift exchange was unfair.”

“Stop that! I didn’t know what to get you!” you complain. “Your stupid mysterious aura made it hard to understand you better.”

Shaking his head, Kinich takes out the next item in the box which was a poorly made paper flower.

-

SECOND GIFT - PAPER FLOWER

The first few weeks of going out with Kinich was… awkward, to say the least. Yes, you’d had a major crush on him ever since you started university and had been friends with him since high school, but that didn’t mean you knew how to act around him (especially since you were now his significant other).

When he asked you out on a date - to which you agreed without a second thought - you had this tiny paper flower you had made in art class. It looked… good, but it wasn’t quite beautiful. You tried your best, really. You wanted to give Kinich a handmade flower you’d seen everyone make on TikTok, but it failed and now you had to give Kinich a poorly made rendition that looked like it got run over by a car.

When you walked out the door, Kinich was already waiting outside of your dorm lobby dressed in casual clothes (which honestly made him look even cuter). He noticed you slowly walking over to him and he smiled. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you said, almost sounding breathless. The paper flower in your hand almost was crushed in your hands because of how nervous you were. “Um, I have something for you.” you hesitantly showed him the paper flower and Kinich blinked twice before taking it from you. “I know it looks ugly, but I swear I tried my best.”

You could see him stifling a laugh and you immediately frowned. “Stop laughing!”

“Sorry, it’s just-” Kinich tucked the flower safely in his pocket. “I love it, I promise.”

“You were laughing,” you pointed out.

“Because I find it cute,” Kinich replied. “You made a really pretty flower.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why do I feel like you’re lying?”

“I promise I’m not,” Kinich said, taking your hand in his. “Now, shall we get going with our date?”

-

PRESENT TIME

“I can’t believe you kept this!” you exclaim in disbelief. The paper flower still looked like the first time you gave it to him. “I thought you threw this away.”

“Why would I?” Kinich asks. “Both of these gifts from you are special and I’d like to keep them with me forever if I can help it.”

“So sappy,” you tease. The box still has a few items in it but you’re about to run late for the restaurant reservation Kinich booked for your date night. “Come on, let’s go. We’re going to be late.”

Kinich hums. “Do you have a present for me tonight?” he teases, giving you a smile. “Perhaps another poorly made paper flower?”

“Keep that up and you’re having dinner alone,” you say sternly.

Kinich immediately stops talking.

[girlgenius1111]

contact

r has never been one for physical contact. she doesn't realize what she's missing until she does. barça x touch starved reader

-------

Your teammates had figured it out pretty early on. You didn’t like to be touched. It wasn’t personal, and it wasn’t something you really liked to acknowledge. It was obvious, though, in the way you tensed up whenever anyone went to hug you, or the way you sidestepped the bulk of the celebrations on the pitch. You didn’t like physical contact, and that was fine. Your teammates could respect it, even if it wasn’t what they were used to at all. The majority of them were Spanish, after all. 

It never occurred to anyone that perhaps you didn’t dislike physical contact, you just weren’t used to it. At all. You’d grown up in an incredibly not affectionate household. Your parents didn’t hug you, and you never learned anything different from that. It was hardly your only issue with them, and it didn’t even occur to you to consider it an issue. 

You’d felt like this your whole life. You thought everyone did. You thought everyone felt this empty space inside of them, longing for something you just couldn’t quite put your finger on. You ignored the way that the infrequent pats on the back and high fives seemed to frustrate this part of you more. You decided it was a negative reaction to touch, rather than one that begged for more. 

Like everyone, though, you had a breaking point. And you’d been approaching it for a long time. 

------

It wasn’t enough that you’d had an international break from hell, losing both matches despite you running yourself into the ground for a win. 

It wasn’t enough that you had to see your parents over the break. It wasn’t enough that they were uncaring and dismissive of everything you said, that they treated seeing you like an obligation rather than something they were excited about. 

It had been a long couple weeks, to say the least. And yet, everything you’d dealt with apparently wasn’t enough. 

As the defender plowed into you again, you wondered what you’d done to deserve this. No one had left you alone today. You’d been violently tackled, shoved, pulled, and stepped on more times than you could count today and you were at your limit. Everyone could see it, too, in the way you robotically got to your feet, blinking hard, trying to brush off this blow too. 

You missed Jona’s eyes on you, and the looks he exchanged with his coaching staff. You were supposed to play the full 90, and it was only the 70th minute. It was clear, though, that you couldn’t take any more battering, not that you’d ever admit that. 

When you heard the whistle signaling the subs were allowed to come on, you looked over, a bit surprised to see your number on the screen. You should have been relieved, probably, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were letting the team down. You jogged off, accepting the high fives Mariona offered you, though you ignored the way the contact almost brought you to tears right there. 

You walked over to Jona, as he’d called you over, even though you wanted nothing more than to disappear into the locker room and have a few minutes to yourself. 

“Are you okay?” He asked kindly. “Do you need to get checked out?” 

“No, I’m fine. Just a bit sore.” You dismissed. 

Jona sent you a sympathetic smile. “You can head back in if you want. Let someone know if you need ice.” 

With that, you turned towards the locker room and headed inside. The next hour was something of a blur. You showered and got dressed, before heading out to the bus. You were quick enough that you didn’t have to interact with any of your teammates, and theoretically, you could have let yourself have a few moments. Something inside of you wouldn’t allow that, though. You were forcing yourself not to cry on instinct, but the more you sat by yourself, the worse you felt. About yourself, about how you’d been playing. Everything. It was overwhelming, and the minutes sped by until it could have been minutes or hours. You didn’t really care how long it had been. You just wanted to go home, so you could feel what you needed to feel, all by yourself, like you were supposed to. 

-------

You were too wrapped up in your thoughts, and trying not to cry, to notice that your teammates had started to file onto the bus. Esmee headed for you, both of you preferring to sit in silence on the way back from matches, while some of your teammates preferred to be a bit louder. As she got closer, though, she noticed the way you were sitting, all curled into yourself, practically a ball in your seat, and the way your entire body seemed tense. You were good friends, you and Esmee, but the girl felt wholly unequipped to deal with how upset you seemed. Thinking for a minute, she decided someone else would be able to deal with this better, so she turned around, ignoring the odd looks she got from everyone she’d passed on her way back to you. 

Esmee was still rather shy with the older girls, although they’d been nothing but nice to her. Even though she felt a little awkward, she walked right over to where Alexia was sitting, chatting quietly with Patri. 

“Alexia?” She said quietly, not wanting to interrupt the question but not really sure that she had any other choice. 

The captain turned to her, though, always a bit amused by how nervous she made Esmee, but always careful to not make her feel bad about it. “Hola Esmee.” Alexia greeted with a smile. 

“Hola,” Esmee replied. She looked back at you anxiously, and followed her gaze, sitting up a bit in the seat to look back at you, too. “Um… something isn’t right with her. She seems really upset. I didn’t really know…” 

Alexia’s brows furrowed, mentally cursing herself for not thinking to check on you before now. The team had noticed how tense and off you’d seemed after the international break, but they thought you’d relax after a game back with the team. Clearly not. 

“Thank you, Esmee, I’ll check on her, vale?” 

Esmee nodded gratefully, stepping aside to let Alexia out of her seat, taking an empty one across the aisle. She appreciated that Patri gave her a quiet compliment on the game she’d had, before pulling out her phone, and allowing Esmee the silence that the Spaniard knew she always sought after a match. 

-------

You were still completely oblivious, starting to get a little worried that you were going to cry right there on that bus, as opposed to once you’d arrived home, like you wanted. Crying in front of your teammates was the last thing you wanted to do, but you knew you weren’t going to be able to avoid it when Alexia slid into the seat next to you. 

“Pequeña? What’s going on?” Alexia asked softly, noticing the way you refused to meet her eyes, your gaze fixed on your hands fidgeting in your lap. 

You shrugged, for a minute unable to speak in fear that a sob would escape instead of words. “Long day.” You managed eventually. 

Alexia nodded slowly. “Long couple weeks, no?” 

“Yeah.” You said, clearing your throat as your voice cracked rather pathetically. 

“Can I do anything?” Alexia asked almost helplessly. You looked so upset, so fragile, and she wasn’t sure how to help without touching you. She knew she always liked a hug after a rough day, but you were so different, and normally shied away from contact like that. 

“I don’t know.” You said, wiping roughly at your face as a few tears escaped, the kindness from your captain not helping you keep it together. You wanted her to be able to help, but you weren’t confident she’d be able to. 

“Do you want some space?” Alexia asked, even if the idea of leaving you alone like this made her want to cry herself. 

You were used to dealing with your emotions yourself, but somehow, at the moment, you weren’t really embarrassed that Alexia was seeing you like this. You weren’t quite sure what you wanted, but you knew you didn’t want her to go. “No, please stay.” 

“Nena… can I give you a hug?” Alexia asked after a minute, in a way that made it clear she wouldn’t be upset no matter how you responded. 

What did you have to lose at this point? You were pretty sure you couldn’t feel worse. So, for once, you did the opposite of what you thought you should do, and nodded hesitantly. 

It was instinctual for Alexia, and surprisingly for you, too. You were tense for just a second when she wrapped her arms around you, gently pulling you in closer to her. After a second, though, your body seemed to move of its own accord, completely melting into the arms of your captain. 

You were crying before you could stop yourself, clinging tightly onto Alexia’s sweatshirt. It wasn’t bad crying, per say. It was cathartic. You thought briefly that this was the safest and most comforted you’d ever felt. Still, you tried to keep the volume down, not wanting to attract attention to the fact that you were sobbing into your captain’s sweatshirt. 

“It’s okay, nena, just let it out.” Alexia whispered, her chin resting on top of your head. She rubbed your back softly, hating the way you trembled against her. She’d never seen you this upset before, but the way you leaned into her told her that this had been coming for a while. It also told her that even though you acted like you hated being touched, that wasn’t the case. She wasn’t sure why you didn’t allow it to happen, but it was clear you had needed it. “You are safe, nena. You are okay.” 

Her words felt like a soft blanket being wrapped around your shivering body, and you felt that empty space inside yourself feel full for the first time in a long time. Maybe ever. 

It made her heart hurt that she hadn’t thought to check on you, really check on you these past couple weeks. She had assumed that because you never talked about how you were feeling, you didn’t need to. She’d never considered that you did want to, and need to, but you were too afraid to do so. She made herself a promise to keep a closer eye on you. And to give you more hugs. 

Even when you’d stopped crying, and the bus had begun to move, Alexia didn’t let go. She kept you firmly in her arms, your head resting on her chest. You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, either, even though you knew you should. 

You couldn’t help but feel sad when the bus pulled into the Barça parking lot. You’d acted completely ridiculously, and something like this could never happen again. You weren’t a child, you were an adult. The thought of removing yourself from your captain’s arms, though, felt physically painful, and you almost wished it hadn’t happened in the first place. Because now you knew what you were missing, and it would be near impossible to not let yourself seek it out again in the future. 

------

You showed up to the recovery session the next day on a mission. You were going to apologize to Alexia for what had happened yesterday, and promise that it wouldn’t happen again. You weren’t going to cry and you were not going to act any differently than normal. You couldn’t let anyone see you as this pathetic person who was barely hanging on. You were strong and capable and independent. You were an adult, and emotions were to be felt by yourself. Hugs were for children, you reminded yourself, and you hadn’t needed one of those in a while. Or maybe, you just hadn’t gotten one in a while. Regardless,  by the end of today, you were dead set on making sure everyone who saw you so upset yesterday would know that it was a one time occurrence. 

Alexia had other plans. You really should have given up immediately upon seeing the determination on her face when she pulled you aside right before the film review session, but you were stubborn if nothing else, and you tried to remain as cool and calm as you could. 

Even when she led you to one of the lounge areas, and took a seat on the couch next to you. Even when she squeezed your shoulder supportively, and all you wanted to do was launch yourself across the couch at her, and curl up against her like you had yesterday. You couldn’t. You couldn’t. 

“I wanted to check on you after yesterday,” Alexia said gently, as if she knew you wanted to avoid this conversation. It didn’t matter that your captain hadn’t seemed to mind yesterday, your behavior still wasn’t okay, not at all. 

“I’m sorry for how I acted. It won’t happen again.” You said stiffly, ignoring the sympathetic expression on Alexia’s face. It made her so sad that you felt you had to apologize for showing emotion. 

“You do not need to be sorry.” Alexia said definitively. “You were upset, it is okay to be upset, pequeña.” 

“I shouldn’t have cried in front of everyone, and I shouldn’t have made you sit with me.” You insisted. 

The older woman frowned. “Why do you think either of those things were not okay?” Alexia wondered, choosing her words very carefully. 

“I am an adult, Alexia, I am not supposed to act like a child.” You argued, not really sure what she wasn’t understanding. 

Alexia knew she wasn’t the most emotionally available person, but she at least knew that it was okay to cry, and it was okay to need comfort sometimes. She wasn’t really sure why you didn’t seem to get that. 

“I do not know who told you that crying and needing comfort is for children, but they are wrong. You can always come to me, or any of the girls, when you are upset, no matter what you need. None of us will think any less of you. We are teammates, and friends, and we are here for you. Understand?” 

You were surprised at her words, and more surprised that they made sense. You knew who had told you those things, and you wondered why you had believed them on this, when you were normally so careful to take what they said with a grain of salt. Very suddenly, you realized you couldn’t remember the last time your parents had given you a hug, and things started to make more sense. It wasn’t an uncommon thing for you, realizing that something they had done was not normal, but this was a realization that made you a bit more emotional than the others. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to annoy anyone.” You replied quietly, looking down at your feet and away from Alexia’s kind eyes. 

Your captain shook her head firmly. “You could never annoy us.” 

Slowly, you nodded, accepting Alexia’s outstretched hand as she stood up and pulled you to your feet as well. 

You moved to walk back to the media room, but Alexia pulled you back, a small smile on her face. “Hug?” She asked, opening her arms for you. “It has been a stressful day. One of my teammates does not understand how much we all love her and it makes me very sad.” 

You rolled your eyes, feeling something deeply happy and hopeful bloom inside of you. You accepted the hug, falling into Alexia’s arms, squeezing her tightly. “She knows. I think she just forgets sometimes.” You murmured, your voice muffled in Alexia’s training top. 

“Well, we will just have to remind her then, yes?” Alexia said, voice filled with determination. 

And remind you, they did.

------

Their reminders, often unspoken squeezes of the shoulder and encouraging words, worked well. It wasn’t an immediate change, but rather a slow one. There were signs that you were opening up more. Everyone felt an inexplicable sense of pride when you did reach out to one of them, whether physically or more emotionally. 

The first time was when Mapi returned to training with the team for the first time. She had greeted everyone with a hug, turning to you and holding up her hands for high fives. She had long accepted that you didn’t like to be hugged, and she’d been relatively absent in the time that had begun to change. 

She was floored when you ignored her hands in favor of wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug. It only took a second before she was returning the gesture, though she looked in surprise towards Alexia, who just smiled back at her. Two big steps were taken that day, and Alexia wasn't sure she could pick which made her happier. You were sure that Mapi’s comeback was the highlight of the week for everyone, while Mapi was pretty sure your hugs brought good luck, because training went perfectly, for you two especially. Or maybe, the joy on both of your faces lit up the pitch, and made everyone play better. Happiness was odd like that, sometimes. Contagious and healing. Barça was a place of happiness, you decided. And of healing. 

------

i know a lot of you were excited about this one, so i hoped it lived up to your expectations :)

[rafesdollette]

GHOSTED — childhood best friends

x BABYDOLL!reader

SUMMARY: almost eight years of no contact after leaving obx, you run into your childhood best friend at a New Years celebration.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

AUTHORS NOTE: bombpop series yay or nay?? i'm also tired and lowkey high off the paint fumes in my room so if something doesn't make sense, look away.

WARNINGS: mention of drug and alcohol addiction, kinda angsty

You never thought you'd come back, no one did. Leaving outer banks was tough on everyone that knew you, but Rafe struggled the most. So bad, that after six months of 'keeping in touch' through texts and long video calls, he cut you out of his life.

It all happened slowly. The rush to get off calls, one word responses to texts. Then one day everything just stopped completely. No explanation ever came either, which made it all worse for you.

Rafe didn't do it to hurt you of course, he wouldn't do that to you. He just couldn't take not seeing you in person or helping you sneak out of your house at night to go walk on the beach or doing stupid stuff to piss off Sarah.

He missed you dearly, especially the small silly things like saying "over the sun" instead 'over the moon' when you were happy about something.

So he took the solution he thought was best at the time, and just disappeared. But as he grew older, the more he came to regret his decision and realized his feelings we're much deeper.

He didn't care how many people told him he was 'too young' to know what love was at that time, he loved you. And there's probably a huge part of him that still does.

So that's why he's been staying cooped up at home since he heard you were back and visiting the island. He definitely wanted to see you, but what was he even supposed to say when he did? There was a plethora of things he wanted to say but he was never good with words, so he wasn't even sure where he was supposed to start.

He knew he wouldn't be able to avoid you the whole time you were on the island but he didn't expect to see you so soon, he hadn't prepared. He probably should have figured you'd come to the gathering for new years at tannyhill, it was always your favorite part of the year.

He's positive he looks like a weirdo right now, practically hiding behind Kelce to stop you from seeing him. “Dude just go talk to her, she won't kill you.” Kelce said, trying to nudge him forward.

“Hell, she might! She's probably still pissed.” Rafe mumbles as he continues to attempt staying out of sight.

“I doubt she's still holding that grudge, Rafe.” Kelce remarked with an eye roll.

Rafe knew he was probably annoying the hell out of his friend right now, but he couldn't help it. He was scared and anxious, which was new for him. He was typically very sure of himself but he felt an immense amount of guilt for pushing you away all of those years ago.

“Well, you're spotted anyway” Kelce said, nodding towards you on the other side of the backyard, looking at Rafe as Sarah pointed towards him.

“Shit.” Rafe muttered, hesitating for a moment before awkwardly waving in your direction.

He expected you to just wave back and get back to whatever you were doing, maybe even ignore him. But you walked back over to him. fuck.

“Uh, hi...y/n” Rafe said, avoiding eye contact

“Hey, Rafe.” You respond with a slight smile. You were glad to see him, despite what he did.He's not sure why, but a little bit of his tension relived when you spoke. At least you didn't seem too upset yet.

“So uh...how have you been?” He asked hesitantly.

“I've been...okay. I graduated high school a couple of years ago and now I'm majoring in fashion design. Not much is new besides that. How about you though?” He knew you would be doing good things with your life, you always said you would.

“I've been good too, nothing new.” He lied. Well actually, it wasn't a full lie. Nothing huge was actually new with him. He was just leaving out the part about his drinking problems and drug addiction.

You could tell that he was hiding something, but you didn't press him on it. You knew he wouldn't tell you anyway. Maybe with a little more time. “You've changed.” You said softly.

He didn't respond at first, instead looking away.

“Yeah, I guess I have..you've changed too.” He said, taking in how you had grown. You honestly looked exactly how he imagined you growing up.

“It has been a while, hasn't it? Eight years, at least.” you said

He nods in agreement “Too long…” he muttered. He knew he could've reached out again at any time, so why didn't he? He honestly didn't know. He had missed you, he'd thought of you often. But something had kept him from contacting you.

You noticed his distant expression and wondered what he could be thinking about. You thought back to the day you left, the day you both promised each other to stay in touch. And that promise remained, until it just...didn't.

At first, you waited for his message. Then you hoped for a call. But as months turned to years and still no contact from him, you figured he just didn't care anymore.

“Hey, how about we go for a walk on the beach? Like we used to?” He suggests. Though it was clear it wasn't really a suggestion, more of a demand since he already started walking towards his car and expecting you to follow.

“Oh, uh sure.” you agree, walking with him as he leads you to his car.

The car ride is mostly silent besides the occasional awkward small talk and the quiet music playing on the radio.

As you both walked along the shoreline, the only sounds were the soft crashing of the waves and your footsteps in the sand. It was all so familiar, but still awkward. Neither of you knew where to even start.

The silence continued for a while longer until he spoke up, breaking the quiet. “I'm sorry” he starts in a whisper “I should've given you some sort of explanation or not have ghosted you in the first place. It wasn't at all fair to you and I just...” he sighs, running a hand down his face. Why was it so hard to put his thoughts into words?

“Rafe...” he waves a hand, cutting you off before you can utter anything else. He just needed to get this out already, he's been holding it in for way too long.

You weren't expecting an apology, at least this soon. Rafe had never been the type to admit he was wrong, you knew that. So why he was apologizing to you, the girl he hadn't seen since he was thirteen, was obscure.

“I missed you a lot, okay?” He begins again after a moment of silence. “I know I should have just waited for you to come visit.”

“I really wanted to keep in contact with you, to call you or text you or...anything, really. But every time I tried, I would freeze up. I thought keeping in touch would still be like you were here. But, it wasn't. I felt like I had to do something to deserve hearing from you. And I couldn't think of anything.” He admitted, feeling pretty pathetic about the whole thing. He never had any kind of trouble talking to people, it was something he was good at. But now he was unable to even type a simple message to you.

You could see that he was really beating himself up over the whole situation, and you didn't particularly enjoy seeing that. “It's okay, Rafe. I understand.” You said, though honestly, you don't.

“No, it's not!” he retorted, getting irritated with himself all over again. “I should've done something.” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. Why hadn't he just sucked it up and sent you a stupid text years ago?

You didn't really have a way to respond to that. So you just continued walking until the silence became too heavy once more.

“Look.” Rafe sighed, stopping in his tracks and turning towards you. “I'm sorry. I've already said that multiple times, I know. But I truly am.” he mumbled, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “I'm not sure why I'm even telling you this, but I guess I was just hoping that...maybe we could start over?” He said slowly.

Start over? What did that even entail? You were torn. You missed the friendship you both had all those years ago. And the idea of rekindling it was nice. Still, the bitterness and confusion inside made it hard to fully trust him. “How would we even do that? I haven't seen you in years, we're practically strangers now.” You state.

He was expecting a little bit of resistance, but it still stung a bit to hear it from you. “I know it's been a long time, but..” he paused, searching for the words to make you understand, “look, I miss this.” he said, waving a hand between the two of you. “I've missed you, I've missed being able to talk to you. The last what, eight years? I've just.. I've been feeling like something has been missing but I couldn't figure out what. And now I realize it's...it's you.”

[capslocked]

PART & PARCEL

male reader x sana && tzuyu

18k words

“Is it too late?” Sana asks, and here’s how it always starts with her.

Nevermind that it’s not a question in search of an answer. A normal person could, should, text you. Hey, what’s up? or something equally inconspicuous before turning up the dial, are you busy? can I, like, come over? 

Instead, she’s at your doorstep again, twirling a bundle of honey-blonde between her fingertips as if she doesn't know what all that does to people. Some people say, incorrectly, that these are the hours of the night shared with ghosts. And to that you say: No, these hours belong to Sana, clearly, and apparently nobody fucking else. 

Now in a way, you do get it. It’d be easier to turn back over in your bed and ignore the elegant simplicity of a text message, or one step beyond that, do the unthinkable and finally tell her no, but when she’s standing there - there with that face, like a thousand different excuses or a million little reasons why she needs something from you, right now - and all she has to do is push her lips together, eyebrows going high - 

It is a bit like magic, after all, this feeling when she comes around. 

Everything that happened before - her visits, the first one and then the next - no matter how impossible, gets washed away, and suddenly all you have is her. Her voice, her hair, and a sneaking suspicion that the time apart really isn’t such a bad thing, because you don't always have a guess as to what comes next.

Of course, you were always going to let her in.

“I saw the lights were on,” she adds, starting to shrug off her coat like she knows you will.

“I mean, I’m here,” you say, non-committal.

“Yeah. I can see that.”

The door's half open and the only substantial hesitation you have is when you peer over her shoulder. There’s another girl, propping herself up against the doorframe, with a pretty head of glossy, sable hair falling gracefully down her shoulders, and she looks at least a few years younger than Sana. You smile cautiously at her before giving Sana another, much longer glance. In response, you receive a wink that's as subtle as a brick through a glass window (which only raises more questions). You ask the one that seems most important.

What else would Sana, of all people, possibly want to bring you if not some plaything or another. You've seen it all: girls who liked her money, girls who liked her body, girls who just flat-out liked girls, whatever. The dynamic always seemed to be, as long as everyone is having a good time, nothing to get hung up about - because at the end of the night, everyone comes around to Sana again.

And she comes around to you. 

Why question it.

“This is a little�� irregular,” you say with a nod of your chin, as you step back from the door. "Who's the plus one?"

Sana motions the girl in with a sweep of her hand and throws you another disarmingly flirtatious smile - the same one that'd first left you utterly hooked by this strange person, who had, when you first met, walked into your life for five minutes, then fucked your lights out the way she wanted. She goes further with this, of course, teasing a warm smile and slanting an eyebrow.

"I figured I'd bring you a gift," she coos, in this sultry, dusky sing-song of a voice that really needs no followup whatsoever, other than maybe take my clothes off right now, as she makes a show of how she's pushing her shoulders back, like there's an audience to be impressed with the curve of her bust. "Since we were celebrating."

"Uh-huh. What's the occasion?"

"Whatever the hell you'd like," Sana chirps.

With that, she takes you by the collar. And even though the girl she brought is in the middle of, like, peering around curiously in your foyer, Sana leans up on the balls of her feet and kisses you hard. It's a real kiss - no preamble - which is sort of funny, given you would have been more than okay with some. So, naturally, you're caught entirely off-guard. It takes a full ten, fifteen seconds of feeling her hot little mouth pressed insistently up against yours, your mind gone blank with the suddenness of the moment. Your body taking it for granted.

Meanwhile, the other girl blinks - long, dark lashes batting the curve of her cheekbones slowly until Sana has moved to stand in front of her with the full, earnest intention to cup her jaw, tilt her head down a smidge, and kiss her too (very thoroughly, also, in her own way).

Sana lets the girl go with a sharp draw of air and a peck. Then she looks at you, just this side of playful. The way her teeth flash over her bottom lip suggests how she's enjoying, to her bones, this state of affairs: a dalliance with control, with desire, where she can flaunt it.

She tells you to relax, unwind, which you suppose is code for taking another of Sana's friends and bending her over every horizontal surface in your flat and fucking someone the way you've wanted for the last however-long it's been since Sana dropped back into your life. You've done as much. Some rotating cast of characters: Mina, Chaeyoung, Nayeon, the raven haired girl with the perfect tits; some names and faces starting to run together the more Sana pops up at your place with a girl under one arm, usually looking half bored and half shy - or at least putting up some pretense that might justify Sana telling them to strip down while she's already eyeing you with this look like she's wondering which article of clothing you'll be ripping off her first.

"Does she have a name?" you ask, with a nod vaguely in her direction. Of course it's a loaded question. What's her name doesn't matter. You don't know most of their names.

But when you do a double-take, remembering to steal a good look, you're not sure you've ever seen anyone pull off that perfect little white dress quite the way she does - the kind that goes right up the back, tucked under the neck, sleeves coming to a neat point across her fingers. Sana may or may not have a thing for pretty girls in cute dresses, but this is, without question, the most obvious bribe you've ever witnessed in your life.

Sana's still smirking - so much for being considerate, you think for a second, until you’ve got a dainty hand stretched into yours like you’re brushing up with royalty. And well, maybe you’re getting a better look now that she isn’t bathed in the calm, assured wickedness that two A.M. might only ever know - the dark curling like wind around her fingers and down the lines of her spine, cajoling.

She is gorgeous.

And she says - 

“Chou Tzuyu,” in this charming little voice that’s even more mesmerizing than you anticipated, this taut thread winding itself up between the two of you. She says her name with a gentle sigh, a light in her eyes that you know, intimately, not to trust, but you get the sense that she'd rather you make an exception for her - or at least for the night. “Everyone calls me Tzuyu.”

You feel a squeeze at your fingers, an anxious reminder from Sana's thumb, as if she feels the reverie in which you've lapsed. It draws you back, just slightly so.

"Tzuyu," you say, taking mental note of the faint smile that shadows in at the corner of her mouth when you do. "How much do you know?"

She twists in Sana's direction, and oh, look how eager and innocent and coquettish Tzuyu's making herself in front of her, smiling. What do I say, the gesture is asking. You can see her effort to hold back a giggle or two as she bites her lip, trying, as all the pretty girls who come through these doors often try, to come up with something cute and modest and small that'll allow you and Sana to picture exactly the right thing. You can tell when a person is not used to having an audience.

"I know Sana..." Tzuyu's voice trails as she gives Sana a furtive glance. "She talks about you a lot. And I figured, you know."

"What? That we were good friends?"

"Sure," Tzuyu laughs to herself lightly again. "Whatever makes it easier."

Sana has her fingers threaded beneath Tzuyu’s chin, studying her like she’s an artifact that belongs behind glass. Expensive. One of a kind. And oh-so-excessively fragile.

The way Sana touches her, she may be trying to prove the point, guiding her body's angles and edges towards whatever form she sees fit, with just fingertips and the slightest tug, showing you exactly how malleable the girl can be. The look on Tzuyu's face is hardly discomfited when her dress slides past the dips of her shoulders or the slope of her waist, when the fabric gets crumpled in Sana's hand like the most expensive balled-up tissues in the universe. You can't decide what animal comes to mind: perhaps a deer, some cute, unknowingly doomed elk.

"No underwear," you note, watching.

Sana draws herself a little closer to Tzuyu with an appreciative gaze, lips gently landing at her shoulders, neck.

"Why bother?" Tzuyu muses. "What were we going to use them for?"

A pull here, a tug there, and the dress puddles around Tzuyu's feet, silk shimmering like the inky dark of a starless sky. And just shy of a pedestal and perhaps a fucking moonbeam, she's the spitting image of perfection: porcelain skin stretching out over a masterwork of curves and bone and muscle. A sculpture, a study in the form that so frequently leaves people just absolutely dumbstruck and thirsty in their wake.

Sana trails her hand around the width of her hip - drawing your eye along the skin of her leg, up and around the perfectly curved thigh - stopping to splay her fingers just so at the base of her spine, as if in demonstration of ownership. Like this: mine.

"Don't get it confused," Sana tells you. "The whole naive innocence thing is a total fucking misdirection."

"Tzuyu," you say again, this time noticing the way it feels in your mouth, syllables sweet and sticking to its roof like honey - maybe something more of an excuse to move forward and touch her yourself, palm her face, brush your thumb over her bottom lip. A taste, something subtle but intense, spreads to the back of your throat, the moment her teeth graze gently over its pad. "Is that true?"

"Are you asking me what kind of girl I am?"

"I didn't put it exactly like that."

"Just answer, sweetheart," Sana says, brow quirked in a faux-display of nonchalance, fingers still pressed, spreading gently at her neck. She's enjoying this a little too much. Though, you're enjoying this too. It doesn't have to be an either-or kind of scenario.

"It's better if you say it," she adds after a second of consideration, and even though it's obvious by now she's only prodding and that this is a foregone conclusion, Tzuyu puts an emphatic twitch in her lips - red, wet, a vision in crimson - like the thought is deeply troubling and will likely require lots and lots of thorough explanation later.

"Fine, okay, in that case," Tzuyu starts with a weary sigh, and then with a blink-and-you've-missed-it flash of a smirk, there's no way anyone's buying any of this, "I’ll say: I'm whatever kind of girl you want me to be."

Sana was right, and she didn’t even need to go so far as to say it. It’s clear - you want her.

But it's half as easy to pinpoint where it all starts: there's the way Tzuyu melts, sinking just that much further when you guide your hands around the curve of her ribs, fingers following the flow of her soft edges, the slopes and valleys of her breasts, and she parts her lips even before yours touch the seam of her mouth, her breath warm, heavy, the kind of anticipation that sends jolts down her neck, her spine, the body electric - a real live wire.

Or, it's because of the way she likes it - like, really likes it. There's something exceptional in a girl who will wrap her legs around your waist and suck your tongue and whimper just by a feather's touch around her hips or between her thighs, where it's damp and hot and holy shit, this is unreal in a very tactile, visceral way. There's no mistaking the noise for anything but genuine pleasure when Tzuyu's trying, unsuccessfully, to bite down the whine sneaking up her throat and into your mouth - where you're kissing her, still - the kind that presses heavy at the bottom of your stomach.

Or, there's Sana yet, pulling her clothes off, and instead of leaving a trail in her wake, folds each piece neatly until she's bared down to this fine little number of lace and cream-colored silk that'd make your head spin if you weren't, y'know, pretty busy, mouth occupied by Tzuyu's pliant moans, both of your tongues colliding.

"God," Tzuyu groans out quietly as you pin her to the wall, and again after another string of kisses, sucking your lip. 

There are fleeting moments that slip through like sunlight that have you thinking: Right, this was a good idea, nothing other than a sweet girl like this all messed up and squirming with the shallow dig of your nails. But only close to perfect.

Sana will explain it.

"Mm. Not god." Sana is grinning when she leans up for the same kiss, but she takes her time with it: mouth slotted tight against Tzuyu's as her long fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of Tzuyu's neck, working her grip up slowly so that the strain gets more noticeable until the girl is a gasp on a choke of breath. The curve of her back is drawn out by that same hand and her ribs pressed, pert and rosy, into the cool air.

"Sir, and please," Sana then instructs, voice just harsh enough for Tzuyu to understand. 

You might imagine she's also drawing in with her nails, teeth, a full-body drag up her exposed front, like some kind of prize, marking and tasting and fucking every inch. There's a whimper, desperate sound of, yes, right, fuck, please, and sir slipping like a sigh off the edge of Tzuyu's tongue. 

"Or better yet," Sana adds, with another searing press into the junction of her collarbone, "say daddy, please," then follows through on the plea with another slow-pull.

You try not to roll your eyes. It's Sana's kink, not yours. It's a whole thing. And with Sana, like most things, you find it best when you simply play along.

More than that, you indulge her. You both do.

"Okay, daddy." Tzuyu's teeth catch the corner of her mouth in a self-amused bite. Twisting and twisting the swell of her lip further until it snaps forward. "I want you to tell me something," she says, which, for the way this typically goes, is a little more self-assured and pressing than the usual fare. Even Mina, who was perhaps less than enthusiastic about the - uh - title in question, came around eventually when she had Sana's fingers, your cock, all sunk so deep inside her she forgot what any fucking words were anyway.

So maybe Sana does know what she's doing with this one. Maybe you oughta thank her.

Tzuyu just lifts her chin, says, "this isn't what I expected when I showed up here."

"Obviously, it's not," Sana says.

"What I mean is, this is all good fun, of course," Tzuyu explains. A charming indignance that slips past, like the fingers down her belly. She swallows hard, muscles clenching as your palm runs slow over a hip, squeezing. "Though I guessed when we left Sana's, I would've been bouncing on his cock five minutes ago."

Sana's lithe little frame ends up closer - nearly naked in lace and wholly difficult to miss. She's a half head shorter than the girl in front of you, but with a tilt of her chin and a beckon of her hand, it's a powerful look about the lines of her face: eyes slightly hooded, mouth curved and devastating. It's as if, at every hour of the night, the simplest glance will have the fabric of someone's clothing coming undone, regardless.

Tzuyu is just slowly trading looks between the two of you. So curious. "So what then, do I have to do," her words curl like smoke up her throat, "to get fucked by both of you, hm? In, like, the next five or ten more minutes, preferably."

"He's not going to fuck your brains out simply because you ask." Which by the way, is the first real lie Sana tells tonight.

Tzuyu is unimpressed, or maybe she's a stoic. "Clearly," she deadpans.

Whatever the expression is that is fluttering those gorgeous lashes, eyebrows pulled down, adds a faint mark of distrust across her brow. The prettiest scoffs you've ever heard. "Isn't the point to get me spread out on your sheets so you can use me like a little fucktoy?"

A sigh from Sana: heavy, calculated. She does not reply in any obvious way to that, no flimsy assurances that it would be whatever the hell Tzuyu likes (though you think maybe Sana might want to take this whole fucking opportunity, all this thinly veiled begging for it, for the first taste of what will probably be the main thing that'll hold her over the edge of an orgasm or two). 

So, instinctually, Tzuyu pushes it, just enough - she tilts her head, and the motion is followed by a wide sashay of her hips as she gently presses a fingertip to your chest, encouraging a step back to better your balance, like the pull between you has a little more gravity.

"Don't go quiet on me." Another sultry note pulls from her mouth when she guides you another foot - or however many, until the foyer opens up into your living room. The chair, the sofa, a table, you watch her eyes wander like she's mapping the territory. And then finally she drops her hands from your shoulders, reaching instead for Sana, taking her waist in her palms.

Holding her. Kissing her.

There's a delicateness about both of them, clearly, and not only how Tzuyu angles their lips, as if she doesn't fully intend for the two to merge but instead taste the line, test the edges, or something; but Sana doesn't fight this. In fact, when Sana's being drawn gently, but confidently into a deeper, harder press, a very eager give, her eyes slip closed. There's a war, and Sana - though she'd be the last to admit it - is losing.

Tzuyu, at the end of a particularly sharp draw of air, simply turns to you, eyes peeking over the tousle of copper hair atop Sana’s head, and asks: "How does daddy want to play with his toys?"

It clicks in your head immediately: she's a natural, could be an actress, maybe a pro - you have no idea where Sana found her - even if that doesn't exactly match with the diction; daddy, and sir, and the baby-girl pout. There are the things she does to Sana, this slipstream of control passed back and forth and back and forth again - a fevered tugging, the give of one or the other. An entirely different dance. Beautiful, fluid, intense.

Eventually, it lands in your lap. Literally and metaphorically. Tzuyu looks up from where she's kneeling between your legs and with a little pinch of your hips, tells you with that intoxicately sweet, melodic voice of hers, that you seem like the sort who wants someone who just takes initiative.

And she's right.

"May I?" she asks, breathlessly, fingers at the zip.

"Of course,” Sana answers for you, settling into her side like you both belong to her. Like she’s about to enjoy this just as much as you are.

What does the room sound like, the darkness giving away? Everything. The hum of the appliances, the purr of the heat, something in the walls is settling into its final position for the night as the floorboards sigh. Breathing. Listening.

What you don't hear:

Chou Tzuyu moving - whether she shifts onto her knees, or adjusts how her slender fingers fall from the waist of your pants, doesn't matter - no crunch, no shuffle. She doesn't swipe away the hair from her eyes or drag the pad of a thumb over her swollen, bottom lip. All she does is pull, just a bit, and the zipper breaks the silence, comes apart down the way.

Sana clears her throat gently, hoping, possibly, that Tzuyu might be the kind of girl who just loses herself to the moment, caught in the headlights. The way every delicate, doe-eyed girl is supposed to do. Sana likes them a little helpless like that - makes her feel big.

It's too bad really, because Tzuyu doesn’t appear like she's awash with anything in particular. Or at the very least, she's done a fairly convincing imitation of not being the slightest bit off-put, completely disarmed or whatever Sana had been looking to see.

She does look up though. Long, pretty face still managing a bit of devastation from this angle. Those full lips slightly pouted and slick in red: such an inviting color against her pale skin.

"Sana," she coos, eyes wide and brilliant - innocent, yet taunting all at once - and she's deliberate in what she says next, flitting her tongue across her canines to punctuate every sound: "Isn’t daddy going to use me now?"

"Oh." Sana leans in, eyes flicking up at you, Tzuyu's hands, her body, and starts slowly, like she's exacting a punishment, "Tzuyu, baby," her own anticipation beaming off the surface of her thousand-kilowatt grin, "you're going to take that perfect cock," the words dripping off Sana's tongue, heavy, sweet, "you're going to take it, get your pretty little lips all over it sweetie, you're going to show him just how good you can use that filthy fucking hole of a mouth for him. You're going to take him until he cums in your throat, and then you're going to beg him for more. And if you can do that, well. Then we’ll fuck you exactly how you wanted."

Tzuyu blinks - doting and innocent like the angel everyone probably thinks she is.

But then what you've learned about the angels that Sana brings you: they're devils in disguise, well familiar with the sin and lust that resides in these places; sunk into the cushions of the couch, pressed against the cold pane glass of a window, wound tight in the springs of a mattress. You had long thought - and think, you do, particularly when doing the unthinkable - it's easier that way, to leave aside thoughts of right and wrong and ask: Just how far can an angel fall?

"Ah. Perfect," Tzuyu says, sounding like an answer, and her eyes widen as she peels past that band of elastic.

Your cock springs forward and bumps into the pad of her finger, which traces the length of it like it's hers to own, to pleasure.

"God," she hums with satisfaction, and even without looking up, or even before you say a damn word, she draws her tongue up along the underside in one swift, wet lick. "Sana you weren’t exaggerating: daddy's cock is fucking gorgeous."

There is that tiny whine, or more precisely a tiny, oh fuck when Tzuyu curls her hand around your shaft. Sana gives her a push. "Say it, Tzuyu," she all but growls at her.

"Daddy," she says, always pausing on the word. Testing it further. "Please."

"Please," Sana mimics in faux-sweetness, repeating it again once you start to nod.

Not that it changes much - the stare that Tzuyu fixes you is charmingly determined, like a challenge. Then, she inhales.

Deep.

That slide into her mouth is smoother than anything, hot and slippery and oh, right - you remember faintly with a shudder: those pretty teeth hidden away behind a perfectly lascivious mouth, so much that a couple sharp, expert brushes are enough to send lightning dancing along your spine. Sana moves her hands across your hips, to the buttons on your night shirt, working her way up until the fabric has fallen to the side and she can open your chest up to the air, let Tzuyu swallow the rest.

This, Tzuyu likes. "Ah," she gasps around you, or she tries to, your cock propped up on her soft little tongue.

She likes the way that feels. The way you fit in her hands, her mouth. And it shows. Her posture curls deliciously, under the satisfaction of her lips wrapping finally having something to wrap around tight, tight, tighter - under Sana's roaming touches, the skirting of her nails down Tzuyu's chest, reaching with slow deliberation across her stomach until there's a whisper of skin across sensitive flesh.

“She’s so fucking wet,” Sana tells you, smiling at Tzuyu from above and fitting a fingernail between her teeth. "Good fucking girl, aren't you Tzuyu?"

The moan that leaks out around the weight of your cock is pure. Pure lust, pure pleasure. Pure perfection. Her tongue flattens beneath you and finds you surging even deeper, a firmer slide of Tzuyu's wet lips that brings you right into the roof of her mouth - as she twists her face around you, a soft scrape against the inside of her cheek.

You sigh.

And Sana sighs back.

"Of course. Always such a hidden talent," she notes, as Tzuyu's perfect mouth moves and plucks and teases your nerves, twirling her tongue around your tip. Again as she swallows you down, slow, savoring.

“Tell me,” you say, because the heat of Tzuyu’s mouth is starting to remind you of a daydream, “how exactly do you know each other?”

"Work," Sana answers, flatly.

"Like-"

"Yup."

"She sings?"

"She does - rather, she will." Sana glances sidelong with a bit of a grin. "You have no idea what that tongue can do to people when it's got some good backing tracks, when it knows a goddamn fucking thing about rhythm. Speaking of," Sana looks down at where Tzuyu has her silky brown head of hair bobbing between your legs.

And then it's clear what she means, Tzuyu humming and rolling your shaft through the flat of her tongue. It's all slick, soaking heat and the tension building and building in your balls, aching, just absolutely desperate for more friction, to be taken and used and stuffed in her throat - or just more of this.

"Here," Sana's fingers are hooked in your pants, helping them off your legs, your ankles, pulling you further to the edge of the sofa. Let me, she's telling Tzuyu, this slight murmur of want she just can't wait on.

"Wait, I'm -" Tzuyu attempts, pulling her lips off the curve of your cock, to where pre-cum is weeping out of its tip, and she kisses it so very tenderly, going back for round two. Round three. She floats her fingers up over her eyebrows, into her fringe, all to tuck some dark, wispy hair gently behind her ear when she starts to hollow her cheeks and again suck your cock in earnest.

Until -

"Tzuyu," Sana reprimands her, "don't play, daddy's got his work cut out for him tonight. So be a good girl, and let me show you what he likes."

It takes a second, maybe three. It might take longer if Sana didn't have her fingernails digging into her thighs, sliding further to grab hold of Tzuyu by the hair and pull her lips off your shaft. There's a thin trail of spit coming off her mouth and stringing across you. Sana closes her fist in the back of Tzuyu’s hair and doesn't so much as blink while studying the look on her face: lips glistening, just absolutely needy, like she can't help the whimper in her throat.

"Hm?" Sana cocks her head to the side.

"But... sir."

"You are his toy," Sana explains, flashing her eyebrows because apparently it needs to be said, "not the other way around."

And it may be the first time you've seen it happen since Sana walked in with Tzuyu and declared her intentions: the fluster, the pink spread across Tzuyu's features like some scarlet-lettered stain. Defenses dropped like a draw-bridge. She's not quite every bit as cool and composed as she wants the two of you to think she is. (They never are.)

But the fact that Tzuyu's coy little smile returns into her lips - how she's wiping the spit off her mouth with the sharp edge of her hand and pointing your cock in Sana's direction with a delicate, arched brow, how she then moves on, untangling herself from Sana's grasp, eyes heavy, but on her - is a marvel in and of itself.

It’s an amusing surprise, a welcome one, for the simple reason that Tzuyu keeps showing both of you that she can have anything she wants exactly like this: wrapped around a slender fingertip, flushed and helpless, and without breaking a sweat. 

"Have you considered daddy wants both our mouths on his cock and maybe a few less words?" Tzuyu scoffs. And even though Sana does scoff right back in retort, that's exactly how it plays out.

(And you may, upon occasion, reflect: you're a real lucky bastard.)

Sana always puts on this act. One that you’ve learned to see right through. 

Like she isn't too eager to follow the momentum, that she hadn't just been just as impatient to touch you - to be on her knees with Tzuyu, all aside this beautiful girl who gives you a pretty smile when her tongue finds the base of your cock. Who likes being bossed around but can just as easily turn her face towards yours - in what seems almost like a taunt - as if saying: You know what else I like? to be challenged, and sometimes when the mood’s right, pushed and punished. 

But Sana doesn't let you see what kind of resolve she has until she's gone another minute, licking, lapping her tongue around your cock - this is her idea, after all. The little white dress in a heap, the adoration and worship that comes with fucking girls she knows are the prettiest things to see ruined.

Listen - even if Sana’s veneer is as blatantly obvious as it is shatterably thin, she’s no less dangerous. 

When she first pushes the very head of your cock inside her mouth, and just that - because why rush it, she's so fucking perfect with those pretty lips - the rest of your brain is shouting something to the tune of fuck me sideways because she knows you better than anyone, knows what really gets your blood burning. 

A few slow brushes, one kiss, this lick that goes bottom to top and over and around. It’s like she's testing the surface, dragging her lips across your aching cock as she settles on a rhythm, a tempo that starts to mirror the movements of Tzuyu's hand.

Tzuyu lets you see: this slow twist, this slide of skin up and down the length of your shaft, her soft fingers rubbing tight circles up and down the path of her palm until it meets Sana’s mouth. And like it’s the most simple thing in the world, she dips down, finds a place at the base of your cock, where Sana’s lips can’t quite reach, and drops a hot, messy kiss right across the spot.

Fuck.

She kisses you everywhere.

"Sana," you start to say, and she looks up through the strands of blonde fallen slightly in front of her face. Her lips sink further down the length of your cock - until she hears your breath catch in the bottom of your throat. Until she’s pulling you up and out, again, just barely past her teeth.

Fuck.

"Mm." She hums it right into your skin, and her eyes are hooded, dipping right down with another pull of spit, and then another, before her lips are at the tip once more, flicking across the slit with her tongue - wet and rough.

"Sana," you try again, biting into your lip as you reach a hand into the gold locks of hair framing her deceptive, pretty little face, and tug, a warning, a reminder. You need. It's too early for you to be repeating yourself, and Sana knows that.

A pop, the release of her mouth slipping off the top of your cock, and Tzuyu moves - wrapping her lips tight and silken around the sides, the rest. It all happens in an instant. You're being taken with the sudden, harsh suction of one mouth, the other, fluid and slipping back and forth again and again.

Sana's nodding along, impressed, as she watches Tzuyu take you - completely, nose to your hip - and has a glint of pure hunger shining through her eyes when you hiss, when she kisses along the lines of Tzuyu's stretched lips. There's another flick of a tongue, and you can feel Tzuyu moan something muffled and choked, a frantic pulse at the base of your spine - pressure gathering like a fucking flood.

"Just how you like it, hmm?" Sana says, her breath warm on your balls as she seals her own mouth right over the base of your shaft. And you swear there's something about this: the drag and suck of both their lips as your hips stutter forward, the feeling of them pressed together in a perfect line, heads tilted and mouths fucking dripping with saliva and sin - your hands, resting on the backs of their heads as they're returning you these greedy little moans that vibrate off the top of your cock and nearly kill you in the process.

“Tell me,” Sana adds, dragging a hot, hazy kiss over the sensitive skin up your shaft. "How's daddy feeling? Hmm? Feels nice and perfect, doesn't it. Feels like you could just let go and release, a hot, sticky load of cum, right down her fucking throat. I know she’ll swallow every drop."

"Fucking hell, Sana-"

Sana doesn't exactly answer to your begging, only hikes Tzuyu a fraction higher over your body to gain better control of the rhythm, and a better view: the hollowed out cheeks, her watery, half-shut eyes, tears welling in her lashes - because the prettiest girls always come apart in the most perfect ways.

You grip into all that silky brown hair, thumb running gently up and over the soft skin behind her ear as she finds an exacting little movement with her lips that will have your spine twitching uncontrollably as you fuck deeper down the perfect arch of her throat, Sana keeping rhythm, guiding you all the way in - a searing heat, and then a new rush of saliva dripping off Tzuyu's chin and back down into the tangle of tongues, fingers, throats, mouths.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The pair of them. The things they're doing.

"Or maybe," Sana muses, tilting her head on an angle that suggests she's weighing her options, and then, massaging a quick, firm twist into the very base of your cock she finally lets spill: "You could make a mess of that perfect face," Tzuyu's faint whimper hardly slips out unnoticed, "I'd hold her hair for you while you cum all over her - how about that baby, should we make a big mess of your pretty face?"

The whimper grows louder - Tzuyu moans long and low, right up against the tightening tension gathering between your hips, right as your balls pull, that familiar coil about to break - and, god, if there's some part of you committed to holding the moment, waiting and wanting to stay in the vision of these two perfect mouths pressed together, it's a fleeting and useless notion - but, as usual, Sana already knows.

The way they're blowing you in perfect tandem, their mouths locked together, kissing around your shaft as they continue to pleasure you, filthy and open - a little more, the thought percolates, a little longer, to let the pressure swell.

"Sir," Tzuyu says, swallowing her next breath, and that's the first you've heard her sound like that: whining, pleading.

She slaps your cock against her lips, her tongue - it's all so wet with spit and precum and slick that her chin is coated, her fingers. A demonstration of what you should have already known: Sana's girls aren't just straight down the line. They want the messy, roughness that comes with the sin; the split in the seam, the wail, the raw, uncut want.

You watch Tzuyu’s lips curl, this quiet smile pressed against your cock, and after a slow draw of air, they fall open again. Asking, "aren't you going to fuck your toy's slutty little mouth?"

The silence of the night swallows up the sounds of Sana's low chuckle and the responding squelch of her fingers tearing free, her hand trailing after. Here’s three bodies in the otherwise ordinary emptiness of your living room, on the edges of the leather sofa, so completely drenched in anticipation and hunger.

There’s a flash across Sana's rounded cheeks, hot, like she's just this small space shy of smirking, or giving into something, you don't know. Tzuyu, however, you've got a fairly clear view of - how her eyes glaze, pupils going wide and dark, staring up at you as she places the shape of your cock so acutely up the length of her perfect features: chin supporting its base, the cute, button-like tip of her nose teasing the soft underbelly of skin pulled taut - a fucked up preamble to whatever the hell it is going to feel like, once she's ready for more.

"Say please, sweetie," Sana says, fluttering her fingers over Tzuyu's neck. And then to you, as an aside: "If there isn't a better way to break in a toy."

When Tzuyu doesn't immediately reply, Sana leans over her, with a fingertip under her chin, guiding her hot, wet lips to the edge of your cock.

"Ask daddy to fuck his filthy little whore."

"Ah," Tzuyu lets out an awkward exhale. "Daddy?" she pauses to swallow, licking her lips, then, with just the slightest inflection, this tight line, right at the border, somehow managing to hit both notes of I'm going to make you beg for it and is it okay for me to be begging you for more: "Please, daddy. Fuck my face."

But then the way she fucking looks - petulant, needy, like if you don't shove your cock down her throat in seconds it could kill her - that's the realest thing you've seen from her since she shuffled through your front door wearing a dress that belongs in someone's heaving, pent up fantasy and left it in a careless pile in the middle of your foyer, tits bouncing on her way into the living room. And somehow, that's a lot to take in: to think this whole debacle has led up to her, this girl you're probably never gonna see again, pressing the pucker of her perfect, pretty lips to the underside of your cock, and -

"Open," Sana cuts in, "your fucking mouth."

Tzuyu gulps thickly and stretches her jaw, blinking expectantly as her pink, slender tongue sticks out the faintest, most insinuating inch.

You lift your hips with one good thrust, the plushness of her mouth becoming soft and velvet as she opens wider, and wider still, and you're balls deep, hilt hitting her lips as she opens her eyes, taking you down her throat, slick and slow.

"Good girl," Sana grins, watching Tzuyu swallow around you. 

You may be buried into her throat but the sound of Sana's encouragement has Tzuyu keening, this wrench in her brow like she wants to focus so fucking badly. Only made worse when Sana bundles a handful of Tzuyu's long, glossy hair into a fist and gets her voice into the shell of her ear. 

"I know you love it, Tzuyu, how he's fucking taking you, huh? That's it. Show daddy how good of a toy you can be."

And oh, the reaction - the very clear one, no less. Tzuyu grips onto the cushion of the couch, a full set of fingers curling around Sana's forearm, any part of you - the one closest and she's digging her sharp nails into your skin and whimpering for Sana to keep talking like her life depends on it.

"Let me see if you can be as good as you think you are," Sana murmurs, and you shift forward again, bucking your hips just barely but getting there, and then there's more, fuck - getting closer to a good steady pace. Slow, forceful. Hitting the very back of her throat, the bottom of her lips.

Tzuyu can only respond by taking you impossibly deep.

"Remember what you told me?" Sana's biting her lip, finding as much satisfaction out of the mere display.

"Mnnph," Tzuyu chokes out before slipping off your cock, only long enough to gasp for another breath, "I said, I said - all the things I would let him do to me." Her voice sounds so wrecked. Broken. Desperate. Filthy, the kind that needs to be fucked. "Please, please," she says again.

"Tzuyu." Sana's fist tightens in Tzuyu's hair, and down Tzuyu goes. "You sounded so sure, baby - when you said you'd making him fucking cum so easy, how you'd make him bust over and over with this mouth, so -"

You're getting too close. It's really not your fault, it's the two of them. Every wince on your face a result of Tzuyu's swollen, shiny lips wrapped tightly around your cock, cheeks flush and hollow with every move of her mouth. She keeps doing this little flick of her tongue as her lips slide around you - even while Sana lifts her jaw up, down, up down, fucking her mouth onto your aching cock with a sort of callous disregard for how it's fucking her up - how it's fucking you up.

"-the prettiest girls make the best fucking cumrags, you know. Really - makes your toes curl," Sana finishes, giving one particularly pointed tilt of her head at the sight of how bad your knees are shaking.

And then, out the corner of her mouth, teeth locked over her lip, because you're so caught up in how good it feels fucking your length through the vice of Tzuyu's mouth, sliding across her wet tongue - "she's not lying baby, is she? Fuck, I bet she feels so fucking good on you doesn't she" - her voice hoarse and desperate, a hint of something caught at the back of her throat like she can almost taste what it's like. What it must feel like.

Sana pushes, and even she can probably feel you pulsing at the way Tzuyu chokes when the tip meets the drain of her throat.

It gets... it ends up too much, too fast. Borderline abusive - and not just the speed, or the sheer roughness - Nayeon was here on her knees, like this, in the middle of the night not too long ago, and deepthroating you is far from the unusual or accomplished, at this point. But, fuck if that isn't something you build up to.

The slight curve of Tzuyu's arms, rising as they tremble with the effort, the little tears that slip down her cheeks, and those lovely sounds she makes. It's not at all intentional - and you're so stupidly certain Sana didn't think you'd be this riled so quickly, like there's not an ounce of willpower in the world that could save you at this point.

And while that's not too surprising on its own - Sana knows you well, this is what she agreed to - Tzuyu must have understood (it was part of the plan, in fact) what she was walking into, what she was signing up for. But fuck it: she was still pretty new, an amateur. And an amateur just wouldn't be capable of doing the things she does, and looking the way she looks, not to the same extent as this.

"Can you cum from nothing but the feeling of daddy's dick hitting your throat? I'll have him sit back and relax while we work," Sana tells her.

It'd make two of you.

"Would you like that?" she's asking you, tilting her head when you've gathered yourself long enough. "No touching, just take my orders while we pleasure you. How does that sound, daddy?"

"Sana, easy," you practically growl, biting down on the inside of your cheek because the twitch in Tzuyu's pulse has you coming far too undone, her chest hitching and lungs heaving and face wet with spit and tears and cum as it's spilling down her chin. You're seconds from telling Sana to dial it back when a low, guttural sound, sputtering, leaves Tzuyu's throat.

The grip in Tzuyu's hair goes loose enough that she pulls herself up, swallowing up as much air as she can. 

And fuck, look at the damage: that swollen mess of her red, glistening mouth; the dark runs of mascara and drying tracks that make a ruin of her face, her neck; a heart-stopping shine of white drool. She blinks the tears off her lashes in a moment.

Sana’s eyeing her over the same way a surgeon might approach a task with a scalpel and a careful hand, or perhaps a fisherman surveying the quality of a catch - before tossing it to the back of a truck to be hauled back home. Like the kind of sight she gets just a little too much satisfaction at. And it's the eyebrow she shoots up into her mess of toffee-blonde hair that asks, quietly, too much?

Fuck. Maybe.

But Tzuyu's eyes shift toward Sana's, and without even an ounce of hesitation - without anything more than a heavy exhale - she opens her mouth again so you can see her tongue run across her top teeth, incensed in her lust. More, fuck me, have me, use me she's saying, telling with you the slight indignance in her eyes that Sana finds perfectly irresistible.

Then, as if unbothered by how far your cock had been slotted in her throat, she swallows. Says, "is that all, sir?"

And the sound that follows it, that shuddering sigh - breaking, cracking, shattering into the calm quiet of your apartment - Tzuyu takes you like it's more than enough. She's swallowing it all back down again.

“Fuck, Tzuyu, you’re-” you try, only to have her moan loud, so loud, when she drags her tongue down your cock and swallows around the whole thing in a way that has you gasping. Your hands end up wound tightly in her hair, weaving through the smooth waves, knuckles straining when it really sinks in. Just how deep down her throat you go, so perfectly deep, the stretch of her lips holding on the side of a grimace because she needs it that way. She can't have it any other.

"Go on," Sana murmurs into the side of your face, drawing closer so she's got her nails curled down into your thighs, leaning in to place a wet, hot kiss into your cheek. "C'mon baby, she'd told me she'd let you do anything - said she'd swallow everything, like the fucking cockslut she is."

Sana's chin digs against the bone in your shoulder, eyes unwavering on where you disappear over and over inside Tzuyu's throat. And it's not just that - Tzuyu's hair clenched tight in Sana’s one hand, the other curled hard into a fist around the base of your cock, her harsh breaths washing over the bare skin of your neck. It's fucking indecent, how needy she's gotten. How needy she always gets. You can feel her greedy little lips finding your ear and biting just shy of savage enough to break skin, and licking - flicking across the vein beating down in your throat, and then -

"That's right," Sana says with a low growl when you look at her. "Cum."

An impoverished sound rips right through your chest. Spreads through you like wildfire.

And just like that, you're spilling inside her, thrusts growing unsteady and lost in the wet, searing heat of Tzuyu's perfect, wet lips, slapping and sliding into her throat, spilling on her tongue with every surge of pleasure drumming in your blood.

Tzuyu sinks down further. So deep that the brush of the back of her throat feels like a hand on the hilt of a knife, tearing into the ends of your nerves, where they’ve come alight and been set ablaze.

Sana picks up again whispering into the cuff of your ear. It makes your head feel like it might explode. And you're almost entirely certain that's what will actually happen, when the combined pressure between your ears and that of your cock becoming so desperately spent builds and builds and doesn't stop, as though waiting. 

Biding time for some perfect snap.

Only, a tickle at the back of Tzuyu's throat has her choking out. The same uncontrolled way your hips start to falter - shaky, jerky motions instead of any precision or rhythm - and you're tilting and winding your head in circles, jaw tensed, squeezing her scalp and oh, oh fuck. Tzuyu's mouth slides itself all the way off you in one hurried gasp, then two and three, just barely giving her a chance to steady herself, all while you're still leaking thick, white cum all over the slick swell of her bottom lip, up over the ridges of her elegant features, the curves of her cheeks, the high arches of her brows.

Look - you're cumming all over Tzuyu's face. You’re cumming all over her pretty face and she just takes it.

She's, fuck - she's so, so good. And not just because her mouth is fucking perfection, or her eyes are all at once bleary but wide open, watching you twitch, her own cheeks flushing as she stares up at you - trying desperately to breathe, taking a quick lick off the end of your cock, flitting her tongue between her knuckles, because apparently another taste can't hurt.

"Ugh," Sana hushes, right into your neck, "would you just fucking look, see that - god, Tzuyu, how does it feel, does he taste as good as you hoped he would?"

There's a subtle, unmistakable bob in Tzuyu's throat as she's swallowing everything down, the evidence, and a small flash of her tongue. "Good, mmn-" and you can see how she struggles in her restraint to simply say so, to let her hand drift to the 'V' between her thighs and sate that ache.

But even if her body seems ready for more, Sana's finger finds its way underneath Tzuyu's chin to prompt, with one, simple command, "let's get you cleaned up before we give you what you came for. Go on, get our little girl up to the shower, won't you daddy?"

-

It's a minor miracle the three of you make it upstairs and down the hall without so much as a trip or stumble, the girls with their fingers woven together and hips swaying as you all stagger up. It's a minor miracle you don't pin either of them against drywall or up against a doorway or do any of the number of filthy things on the mind of a man just fucked, still coming down, with two gorgeous, perfect faces - two perfectly sculpted asses - all in arms' reach.

The bath mat is still bunched at the back of your bathroom door. Still damp from the last shower - Sana's last morning here - which you have to pry apart just a little so the two of them can file in.

And well - it does happen. Eventually.

At the sink.

Just inside the en suite of your bedroom.

With Sana, being the way she is.

While the faucet in the shower starts up a shallow stream of water - tap running warm, steaming the length of the mirror and condensing the glass that Sana will soon have Tzuyu's face up against if she has any say in the matter.

"Tzu," Sana says, carding a hand through her hair and bringing a damp washcloth up to the bend of her jaw. There's a slow trace of fingertips across the lines of her neck. "Keep your eyes right on his while I clean you up, ok?"

And then there's the mirror in the center. The three of you arranged - a sort of hierarchy - with Sana stepping forward and adjusting her stance in order to survey, and clean the mess she's made. (What you've made.)

In profile, you can't exactly make out a distinct detail about Tzuyu's face in the reflective surface, only the silvery blur that is the curve of her neck, and the silhouette of the small frame that her long, slim legs form against the cabinet. But the idea's always the same - she's being used like a perfect canvas. Like an empty, ready-to-use doll that you can twist and turn in the ways you want until all your control breaks and you're just fucking into her, or having her lick and suck all over Sana's gorgeous fucking tits while she's bouncing in your lap.

Whichever happens to come first.

"You missed a spot," Tzuyu tells Sana, as though she hadn't missed several - her head tilts in your direction, eyes wide still, endless in depth. Her mouth gives away what's already burning its way through her blood. "Maybe another pair of hands will help?"

"Mine are a little rough around the edges," you explain, coming in close. The bathroom is this tight, congested space, but at the right angle there's plenty of room, even if your hips knock slightly into Sana's body. Tzuyu's delicate body already has her back flush against the sink basin. "You want to feel them?"

She shakes her head, and even though the hunger on her tongue hasn't been satisfied, even after having a good fill, there's something else she'd rather have now.

"I think," she starts, her words cut off by a hitch of breath when Sana's lips travel to the very tips of her hair and work their way up to the soft skin behind her ear. "Rough is good, when... when I'm being," Tzuyu's closing her eyes - partly so that she doesn't fall off the edge so easily, partly to lean into the sensations of two warm bodies, all attention placed solely on her.

"When you're being worked over?" Sana offers.

"Ngh," she responds - with an attempt, as best as she can, at a smile. And then there's one, light, teasing stroke across her jaw, her mouth. Sana's thumb pressed gently into the crease. "When the fucking gets..." and you'll have to fill the gap - finishing her thought with your hands slotting themselves onto the gentle arch of her hips, pressing a kiss that doesn't even come close to satisfaction on the supple dip of collarbone.

She lets out this pretty sound at the feel of your lips, Sana's, all ghosting down her throat.

"Hard and deep?" you say. Sana smirks at this - continues the effort, "A little fucking nasty, huh, sweetheart?"

"Mhm." Tzuyu is, above all else, a little helpless. “Because - you know me so well.”

But make no mistake: Tzuyu is exactly where she wants to be. With the heat radiating off her bare body, she leans into it all, only flinching when your teeth catch her nipple - when Sana's tongue laps a rough circle over the other. The scene, the feelings, all of it orchestrated precisely - these are the things she likes, maybe loves even.

And after the soft sounds slip through her lips, a moan and another hum, she finds her words and voice, "hard and deep and, rough and, ff-"

"And?"

The quick brush of your tongue flickers across the hard tip. The sensation draws from Tzuyu this very faint cry and the exhale of a word: "Fast."

"Naughty little thing," Sana presses into her jaw, pulling back to regard you both. To lift a finger, wet the pad with her tongue - and reach down, down, down until her fingertips brush the very line of her thigh, into the slick between her legs. "I love it when girls get all messy."

"Please," is all Tzuyu has to say, barely anything but, as Sana's finger drags slowly inside her folds.

"Patience baby," she murmurs into Tzuyu's open mouth. The exchange is swift but thorough; you watch, all tongue and spit, and your fingers twitch with a sense of loss. "Why don't you remind me how this went last time?"

"Mm, listen here," Tzuyu says in an astute breath, the sound of it like tables turning. There's a firm pull on your wrist - the grip on it guiding you, encouraging you, just where she wants them, into the band of lace around Sana's impossibly narrow waist. You feel Sana sigh in relief, shiver at the touch of a warm palm up against her thighs, and into a pulse-wet cunt, as though the slightest touch will kill her. "I think you might be remembering wrong, Sana."

"And why might that be?"

"Weren't you the one begging me? When I had two fingers up your cunt in your apartment," Tzuyu presses forward, voice lilt and darkening like ink, and Sana whines and crumbles in her palms, knees buckling when there's one sudden and rough slide of fingers right on the base of her spine.

"Yeah?" Sana asks with a rising blush, already knowing the answer - it's her fatal flaw: she's all sharp edges and pointed teeth, right up to the point there's a finger at her own throat, a cock in her hands and a girl working at her clit until she's drooling. "Are you suggesting I'm easy? Is that where you're heading with this?"

Tzuyu's leaned up against the counter, turning Sana's slender frame around in her hands, until she has her fingers up on the over the wire of Sana's bra, palms hot beneath the thin cups, feeling for her nipples, and the change in dynamic is as palpable as the steam rising in the room.

"Let’s not put words in my mouth," she responds simply, dropping another kiss into the back of Sana’s hair. There's another one laid along the sweep of her neck, like a careful bite, and with a lift of a brow, a look that tells you what you've always known, "but if you’re asking, then sure, the sluttiest of all sluts. Easy," she pulls the cups down Sana’s chest, "as fuck."

It gets to her, clearly, as if that moan falling out of Sana's parted lips could mean anything else.

"Daddy?" Tzuyu asks, because apparently she's enjoying the bit, easing into all parts of the character. She can't seem to contain her grin.

"What is it, sweetheart?" you ask, dipping your finger down into Sana's cunt, and fuck - the girl is so, so slick for it. She needs to be taken and torn, that much is clear. Her whimpers don't get softer as your hips drive into her stomach, pinning her between the two of you.

"Is she always this much of a bratty tease? Or is that just how she gets when she gets all worked up over your perfect cock. I know she's aching to feel it stretch out that tight little cunt of hers-

"It's never been all that clear," you answer, before Tzuyu can start to say anything further. A moment of composure, in case Sana wants you to step in.

Except that, she doesn't exactly interrupt the play you and Tzuyu are setting up: "So," Tzuyu remarks instead. "Just for me then."

"It's possible."

The room suddenly feels very full, very small.

"Right. Okay. Well then," you say - watching carefully, when Tzuyu gives you an appraising glance. Sana squirms again beneath the pressure of all these fingers printing over her sensitive skin - she'd love to fuck this. Or be fucked.

"That means you'll have to take good care of your needy little princess, won't you daddy?"

It's surprisingly fitting.

-

Though it hasn’t been that long, all things considered.

Not since Sana effortlessly waltzed her way into your life. And slightly less-than-that, the time it took her thereafter to find herself bouncing in your lap and tugging at your hair while you struggled for breath between her tits. This perfect storm, caught somewhere between laughing and choking and definitely, definitely falling.

It's been a year, maybe. If that. But that's plenty to know.

Know every tilt of her mouth, every sly grin. The different moans that shake loose from the curve of her lips.

Know what it means when Sana's palms hit the tiles of the shower wall, fingers splaying as she goes quiet and submissive, letting out the barest noise of frustration as Tzuyu spreads her tongue over the pucker of her ass - know that the knuckle you curl up in her cunt has her that much closer to unraveling in a stream of whimpers, needy fucking pants and a hoarse sound of gratitude.

Ostensibly for getting her so perfectly, perfectly raw.

"Fuck, yes, that," Sana barely manages, between the messy swipe Tzuyu's tongue makes over her hole. Just this thorough lick, drawing tight, swirling circles around her, lapping at the wetness before making a hot and steady pass over the sensitive stretch of skin, drenching it in spit until Sana's scrambling against the hard surface.

She's not close to going quiet: her cheeks look rounder, like she can hardly keep her noises under control as Tzuyu eases a single fingertip inside the tense muscle of her rim and uses the stretch and warmth of the water raining down her spine, to slip in deeper. Sana's sighing as Tzuyu eats her like an act, an invitation.

You push your fingers deep, deeper, slick, pulling, rubbing, coaxing Sana's mouth apart even as your lips press wet into her cheek. She groans louder, needier, with your hand flexing up a three-finger graze over that bundle of nerves. The kind that makes her back fucking arch.

"You," Sana sputters open like a struck match, burning bright in the steam-cloaked shower, "you, you, you," and it’s not really clear who she’s cursing, "going to - you're going to - you're going to make me-"

"Oh no," Tzuyu sings, starting to straighten herself out - until she’s reminding Sana that she’s the smallest of the three of you and in a possible sort of danger.

She reaches an open palm into the stream of water and splashes off the slick running down her mouth, her chin, her neck - gaze anchored to Sana's trembling figure. It's just one, heavy exhale into the hot, hazy air: "You've got it all wrong.”

Sana twists her head around, face still so wildly attractive amidst the look of worry and that flush of pink taking over from the bottom half. The tiny, imperceptible dip in her brows.

But before she can give voice to a complaint, Tzuyu has her spun by a rough grip around her waist, pinning her back to the tile - water beating down the rise of her breasts and the tops of her shoulders.

"If you're going to cum baby, it'll be all over his thick cock, getting your whole cunt so stretched and stuffed full it'll feel like he's cumming up inside your guts."

You and Sana share this wistful groan of a sigh after Tzuyu wraps her long fingers around your cock, aims you true, and brings you close. Closer. Until you can feel Sana's pulse at her cunt, lips wet and slippery and dripping, just a few inches from where the tip of your cockhead nudges the insides of her thighs. Sana's stomach is seizing in a fluttering of heat and -

"Do you like hearing her beg? That's good. Because this girl's gonna do everything she can to make sure you fuck her raw before you even let her come," Tzuyu's voice lowers, a deep register. "How long can you last, Sana?"

Sana gives you this look, all anticipation and pleasure, holding it for longer than is strictly necessary - and then, her pert little mouth falls open, keening, hissing out a shallow, almost painful, "fuck" the moment you bend at the knees and slip inside.

The feeling that washes over you is a beautiful elixir of relief, an indomitable kind of want, tinged with something heavier, and with just the tiniest hint of longing in the sense that this is not enough, nowhere near enough. It never is.

"God, Sana," is all you manage. All you want to.

Sana doesn't wait around any longer before giving you an impatient shimmy of her hips, fucking herself further down the length of your cock, like she wants to choke on it. And the feeling of it, well, she does it well - the tight warmth swallowing you to the base, her cunt squeezing you all at once, slick and smothering. Fuck, it's all in her eyes. How badly she wants to be held down, split apart. How tightly your fist finds itself locked around Sana's long, wet strands of golden hair as Tzuyu closes any semblance of distance - brushing her lips over where she can tease Sana's open and slack mouth, licking down inside, panting.

"Baby, you are so close, I can feel you trembling," Tzuyu teases, running her fingers up Sana's stomach, cupping steady the breast she can fit in her palm. She drops another messy kiss on Sana’s throat and hums: "Go ahead, cum. I'm sure he doesn't mind.” 

"You're such a prissy fucking- nnh-" Sana's words skirt right over Tzuyu's fingertips before they're shoved roughly across the swell of her lower lip and into the back of her mouth. If Tzuyu's intent was to prove a point, she's about as successful as can be - Sana can only gag quietly around her digits, working her jaw over them.

"Sana, shh-shh-shh, baby, don’t fight it; just cum around around his cock, don't put yourself in a corner and try to play games - he'll fuck you right, until you scream, I promise, and-"

It hardly ever takes much. That's something you've come to appreciate: Sana can't ever help it. With the way it actually feels, you pressing right up against where the rest of her cinches so impossibly tight. She was practically teetering on the edge, on the very cliff and within reach of falling right off of it the instant you fit the very hilt of your cock up the molten-hot stretch of her perfect cunt, sliding, fucking into her while water sprays all over her quivering body, so soft beneath the wash of rain.

One of Sana’s long legs gets wrapped around your waist and you can feel her nails start to dig through the muscles in your shoulders.

Tzuyu smirks right into Sana's temple, biting at the slickness of her skin, running the curve of her thumb around the length of Sana's jugular, and sucking with her teeth when Sana cries out. "How does our girl feel wrapped around you? Wet, huh? Needy?"

"Unbelievable," you answer honestly - and maybe that's the point; Sana's pussy is incredible. Hot and silky and absolutely unreal. There’s no question, whether she's a work of art, or if she'll fuck you up, but you love that part.

“Ruin her for me, won’t you?” Tzuyu prompts, with that twinkle of mischief you're rapidly becoming accustomed to. "She looks even prettier when she's fucked out. I know you know that."

She does, she does, she does.

Your hips snap, up, fuck in - Sana mewling around the shape of Tzuyu's first two fingers - then back, drawing the motion slow, long, full - until you’re crashing forward and sinking up into that warmth you know is spreading across every inch of Sana’s body, swallowing her up inside-out as her legs start to shake and give and her tongue laps recklessly along the outline of Tzuyu's knuckles. 

Sana knows she likes to play at coy and control, but this is never part of the act - your cock fucking her submissive pussy apart - it’s hard to argue she doesn’t love how you can come to own her: hot and fast and filthy, leaving her breathless and desperate, every thrust into her tight cunt punctuated with some pretty whimper. And here, she just… there isn't the luxury, there's nowhere to hide.

Nowhere to run or shy or look away.

Tzuyu curses when finally Sana bites down, part of a long sequence of reflexes that bloom from the depth you fuck up into her cunt. And with her voice back in her throat (Tzuyu's fingers shaking out the sharp pain) she fucking whines into it, unable to stop the steady line of nonsense tumbling past her lips, incoherent except for the single-minded purpose of her own release.

"Fuck, daddy, fuck," Sana repeats in the same way she always does, getting fucked, the letters collapsing into each other. "I'm cumming, fuck, fuck, so fucking wet. God, you're, fuck, right there, oh - I'm cumming, daddy, I’m fucking cumming," is the all further she gets, muddied with the sound of your slicked-up thighs moving in quick rhythm with the beat of your heart, slapping loudly against her skin - loud enough so that the neighbors can probably listen in through paper thin walls.

Then she goes silent, face painted with it all. She isn't crying, the tears won't come, but she's gone this quiet sort of wide-eyed that matches the way she's mouthing, cumming, over and over, you’re pulling me a-fucking-part.

And you believe her. You have to.

Just look at the way her legs are doing all the wrong things. Thighs tensing taut, muscles giving out - she’s slipping down the tiles, back bending and flexing and going limp all at once. Tzuyu's already moving, scooping her up like it's something rehearsed, before you even have to ask, "Tzu, help me hold her up, won't you?"

“Tzu, huh?”

It's not much, but it is worth noting: how Tzuyu, her fingers curling and interlacing between Sana's, holds the girl like she's breakable. Tenderly, cradling Sana's small body against her chest.

"Do you slip into pet names and all that with every girl Sana brings around? Or am I," and when Tzuyu tilts her head, her smile has this very palpable bite, "the exception?"

"Every pretty girl thinks they're special, sweetheart."

Tzuyu just glimpses one downward look into Sana, shivering, riding her orgasm down into nothing, and drops a kiss into her hair. A gentle chuckle: "And when have I ever given you a reason to doubt it?"

"Shameless," is all Sana offers up, beyond exhausted, trying and failing to take more than a passing, somewhat disgruntled interest in the scene unfolding around her, while she clings to the strength Tzuyu and the tile and your hands are putting into her body.

Meanwhile Tzuyu, this devil of a daydream - this tall, skinny thing of long hair and smirking lips and cheekbones as sharp as her wit, has her gaze locked. Still curious, and all but relentless - there's more she's dying to say. It seems almost impracticable that such a lovely woman would really be this way, weapons concealed under all that good-girl charm. And in its most uncomplicated form, that's what it is: an open invitation.

You've only managed the vaguest outlines, after all. "Do you mind?" you ask again.

The next movements feel more elegant than they probably are. Cradling Sana's limp body between you, finding a steady hold.

There’s a slight shuffle to discover a proper balance, a hand slapping the glass of the shower door, and yeah, Sana's fucked out. Slurring out sounds that might resemble the shape of words if she had the presence of mind. The rest are whines and whimpers, obscene in all ways.

“Baby,” Tzuyu tells Sana in a growling kiss to the back of her ear. "Keep your fucking legs up."

(That’s a cue if you were looking for one, to get your arms fastened around Sana's small waist as she leans heavy into your chest.)

"More," The girl in your arms starts to complain, when you truly start fucking her.

"Hurt - hnn, please, more - fuck - harder," and all those sharp edges, that arrogance and conceit, it's all gone. Her pupils are blown out, an animal-like-desire set in its place - these are your invitations to wreck her, you realize, pushing so deep into her well-fucked cunt that she arches, and that her head knocks against Tzuyu's, that the small room is entirely empty save for these movements under the metal cloud of shower water, falling like rain.

This is all there is. 

Tzuyu, smirking like she herself might get off on this. 

Sana, begging.

And when Tzuyu buries a hot smile at her throat, nibbling at the skin - urging her, urging you, this sharp, "now give her the fucking dicking of a lifetime, will you?"

When Sana’s reduced down to her pleas of, please, harder daddy, and deeper, god, I can feel you so deep -

Well,

You’re all instinct. You sink your fingers into the firm skin of her ass, grab at the soft, slippery flesh around her hips. You sink your cock into her hole again and again.

The stretch is obvious and absolutely devastating, making Sana cry out and muffle her face in your shoulder. She makes a weak sort of sound around your neck - it could be anything, maybe please don't stop, or maybe please do - it doesn't matter.

"You look incredible like this baby, does he fuck you well?" Tzuyu croons, curling around her so her head rests on her shoulder - eyes watching Sana, meeting yours. "Oh, come on, aren't you always telling me about how it makes you feel - all this, full and hot and better than anyone? Now's your chance, no hiding from him. Or me."

"It's so, god it's - I -"

"Come on," Tzuyu squeezes out one long, eager moan with her hand dropped onto Sana's breasts, pulling and kneading like she owns it. "Tell him to cum in you baby, like the good fucktoy you are, let him cum up into that creaming pussy until you’re all sticky and leaking cum all over, just the biggest fucking mess."

There is measurable irony, you suppose, in how Sana brings these friends of hers back with the clear expectation to be fucked and torn apart, how they each want the same, all wanting to get her unraveling and her knees buckling. Only Tzuyu manages, more efficiently than anyone you've ever seen, to leave her all wanton and squirming against your hard, relentless thrusts into her needy cunt.

It's easy: this isn't difficult, there is nothing hard about falling for each and every promise her face has to offer - knowing her body's secrets and drawing the story out, line by line, so you can fall in love with it over and over, all while Sana starts to go helpless at the shape of your cock filling up that tiny, wanting cunt.

So you cum. Inside her. In one final push, filling her completely.

Sana opens her mouth like she's trying to say something - say yes - say daddy, say fuck yes daddy.

"That's it," Tzuyu strokes down Sana's belly. "I knew it - now keep your pretty thighs shut. Can't let even a drop out, understand?"

"Yes, fuck. It's - fuck - good, he feels," Sana finally sobs, chest heaving as you grind the last little bits of cum deep, so far and hot as it can get. All the way in. Where it's hot and wet and throbbing and slick.

Where it should stay, because you never pull out. You savor the last bit of your pulse, sporadic and lethargic. Because in truth - your mind is made and your mouth won't say it because you don’t need to.

Tzuyu's wringing the water out of Sana's hair, picking the strands into careful folds. "Alright then," and her grin is positively lecherous.

There's a bench in the corner of the shower where you eventually arrive, panting now that you realize it, and Sana makes herself at home right in your lap, face buried in your shoulder. Grinding her hips down in this almost imperceptible circle, circling back and feeling. Holding you inside and murmuring into your collarbone.

(Fucked, Sana is simply and unfairly beautiful.)

It’s all in that exhale of a moment, when Tzuyu catches water in cupped palms from the shower-head, wiping away what stray tracks of soapiness left on Sana's shoulder-blades and breasts and thighs. Her hands all up and down her body, sudsing the crease between leg and torso, down lower still, around her sensitive pussy and her folds.

You wonder if she can hear you swallow.

"Maybe we should actually wash up before we go again?"

-

The first thing Sana's free hand goes for when she stumbles through the threshold of your bedroom is a hair band you didn’t know she was storing in the top drawer of your dresser. She fidgets around keeping her towel wrapped tightly around her chest as though modesty were an option at this point.

"What?" she asks, fixing you with a slightly-irritated, slightly-teasing smirk. "You look like you have something you want to say."

"Nothing." You laugh out loud. "It's nothing. I'm just waiting."

She makes this face at you, guilty - so sorry about the contraband - as she twists her wrists and pulls the hair band round her middle-finger, wrapping her palms around her knot of wet blonde and bundling it into a half-assembled ponytail. It leaves the length of her nape exposed and vulnerable, neck flushed pink-from-showering in all the most wonderful of places.

"Waiting," is what she hones in on.

Tzuyu is pulling out of the bathroom. Her hands, washed clean and dried off with a fluffy, off-white towel. When she sets it down, she steps back, leaning on the frame. "He's waiting, for what I wonder?"

She's made of all things smooth-and-sharply-cut. Even from here, even through the sleep-haze fog, the silhouette of her nude figure gives itself to a small sense of anticipation. The long and smooth sweep of her chest, from breast, up and out, and then tapering along down to where her hips flare. She takes a step and then another and lets her fingers ride her side, from the very top of the shallow indentation in the dip of her waist, up. Then the tautness of her abdomen and further still, running slow and over the breast, coming to cup its full weight, pushing the bottom of the curve outwards.

"Waiting to," and she wets her lips in something akin to expectation. "Pound me into the fucking bed?"

You’re smiling when you explain, "I was going to say a request…"

Tzuyu’s dimples deepen. "You mean, like, we can tell you what to do?”

You sit on the bed, which is actually more of a proposition than you realize. "I suppose."

"Sana, sweetie, is there something I should be doing for him," Tzuyu looks up, wearing that trademark kind of playful expression that is definitely deliberate and not at all a tell. "Or maybe I've got this all wrong and you know exactly what you want."

"Well," you manage in reply, sounding surprisingly sane. "Don't both start coming forward with any ideas you have no intention of following through."

"And what if I have no ideas at all? What would you tell me then," is the challenge you find hanging around the slender outline of Tzuyu's wrists, and then at the back of her fingers, as she cards her hands through her hair and pulls it prettily over rise-and-falls of her collarbones, until it's barely curtaining her breasts. 

(Barely.)

She crosses over to the bed - to you and Sana - and without much other movement than that, finds a knee on either side of you to let a lone fingertip skirt the tops of your hips. Flirting with the towel around your waist.

"For the record," Tzuyu says, flicking a glance at Sana and leaning down into your jawline. The palm she slides over your thigh is so warm, so promising of its heat and pressure you'd swear you can almost taste the touch of her. "I never, ever go back on my word."

"Try me," you tell her.

"I do have some, ideas." Every time her fingernail ends up between her teeth, it’s another drop in a well that runs god knows how deep. "Though very few of them involve this towel."

“And about the ones that do?”

"Well," Tzuyu starts to purr - reaching a hand down and spreading the flat of her palm on your chest, "I figured if I ever wanted something to bite down on, well, you know."

It's just a subtle little rock - and the perfect view: she starts like this, her hair all tucked behind one shoulder, the arch of her back lifting. Slow at first, Tzuyu only pausing after every other short breath to lick and kiss your lips with hers, and the edges of her teeth, all soft and insistent. You are sure - that with a subtle twitch, a minor jerk of the knee or hip - she is almost right over the perfect place, and when her hips grind in these micro-friction little motions that have her sighing and pushing herself flush, it's clear that all she's looking to do is rub her cunt down all over the erection you've been holding in since the last time your towel was hanging somewhere above your waist.

"Hold, please," Sana interrupts, when she leans over and plucks something out of the messy contents of the nightstand - a few hair clips, and, more importantly, a condom. She swears aloud when the package tears the wrong way, but she's quick to apply a lip balm-slick finger-tip on the inside of the ring, and hands the thing to Tzuyu by way of a passing roll, "so, I assume you've got this under control."

"Give me that."

"Mm. Have at it."

There is an intrusive thought that finds its place, wedged somewhere at the base of your skull when Tzuyu starts the careful act of lowering herself down your shaft - like this, it has an inevitability - a forward momentum, the familiar sense of excitement building a force in your heartstrings. Sana must have a similar sensation, as she scoots her ass and slides one hand over the same place you feel that force thrumming, her palm reaching right for Tzuyu's ass, while Tzuyu hisses out a tiny sound at the added stretch.

"Careful," Sana says, fingers drawn back from the cleft of Tzuyu's beautiful ass with a string of slick that's unmistakably arousal. "You try going back after having his cock. And trust me, there's nothing to go back to. Like, ever."

"That must be why you're always like this," is Tzuyu's cock-sure comeback, finding herself flush with your hips.

You're biting down. You're holding back. You're probably digging nails into your palms hard enough to break skin, because you could be double, triple wrapped, latex running up your length like a goddamn balloon and you'd still feel the hot, melting perfection of Tzuyu's pussy swallowing your cock in one, slick, seamless motion. There isn't any sound either more pleasing than that hitch-groan-slip you hear as Sana helps guide Tzuyu's hips back, forth, back again and to a steady beginning of this proper pace: smooth and full.

You both need a second, because, fuck - and she's biting into a grin. Eyes already half lidded as the speed builds. As Tzuyu starts really enjoying the drag of it, the feeling. The god-damn-fucking-stretch.

"Oh? Like what?" Sana asks, smirk filling out her lips to bridge the silence you're both groaning into. "Like what?"

"Greedy," Tzuyu says. The only part that really needs to get filled in. "Because he fucks the self-control right out of you."

Now Sana lets that settle, and it's not like she doesn't know. Or doesn't understand. And still, "Mm. That does sound like me, doesn't it, daddy?"

(Yeah, well- you- )

Tzuyu watches you watch what happens next: Sana peeling out the cotton slip of her bath towel - sizing up just how good Sana looks. Fuck-me-raw.

And then she laughs, deep and gorgeous. "Didn't he just do a number on you - hn, god. Can you hear him all up inside me? Fucking, splitting me apart."

It's true.

All of it.

The way Tzuyu rides your cock. Faster, faster, rolling her body and drawing her hands together behind the length of her hair and neck until the point of her chin is upturned, showing off the hollow of her throat. A tension that glitters with sweat.

The tightening in the space between the bottom of her ass and your cock - all of it is heaven. This slow-and-rough, rough-and-fast. Tzuyu picks the tempo of it to fuck out a particular pleasure that has you catching her and pulling her closer to your body, holding her through the upward grind, where your cock meets the heat of her cunt - pressing her closer.

That's it.

Possessive. That's what both girls have the good grace to read.

Sana's hands come up Tzuyu's ribs, fingertips skirting the muscle-taut-surface of her stomach, the bumps and grooves of her ribs, and up further still, riding the path of her breasts as they're bobbing-jostled and going full-on heavy - her thumbs go at her nipples. Rolling around the hardened tips - the faintest tug at them, enough to start to pull - then just teasing them between thumb and forefinger and loving the sight of you wincing. Loving that you love that.

"She's pretty, isn't she?" Sana laughs.

"It's a real show," you bite the compliment out. The very least you can get to.

(You'll be fucked if you can hide how much you want to stay buried in this girl and cum a fucking waterfall between those perfect, creamy thighs. Oh, she knows. The dirty little smile, the filthy laugh, you're holding tight - even if the act is useless.)

"Like how she clamps down," she hums. "That's the part I've always loved, you know. She just does everything so slow, so fucking good, so... deliberate."

There's a fist in Tzuyu's hair and no trace of sympathy or self restraint in her friend when Sana tells her, "Baby, ride him slow for me, can you do that?"

When Tzuyu sucks a hiss through her teeth, mouth caught around the sharp intake, Sana just licks a slow line along the curve of her lower lip - as though saying, baby, like the slut you are, remember who asked nicely? 

And it turns out: slow is worse. You can feel every tiny tremor of friction, every little shift of Tzuyu's cunt squeezing you. Clinging tightly. Your fingers wrap around her rib cage and hold her right as her ass hits your lap, while her head rolls back into her own hair. It is enough, finally, to draw an out-of-breath little pant out of her, making a beautiful blush crawl and spread across her cheeks - there.

(Oh, fuck, your brain echoes. So, you want slow, that's what the noise from your throat says as she eases back, rising up. So slow, you-can-feel-all-of-me. She makes the effort so flawlessly, it's fucking you both over, because she's looking at Sana with this flutter-beat look, eyes wide, wet and round and pleading.)

It gets that much worse the minute Sana pushes her down by the shoulders. Giving her some resistance. Showing you both she can take you inch by slow goddamned inch.

"Harder. Deeper, sweetie."

Tzuyu does everything Sana says she'll do, loving her fingers in her hair, pulling tight. Control given as easily as that. Because she looks just how she feels: utterly surrendered. A helpless kind of want, like there's something broken in her chest when the head of your cock pushes her deep, deep. To the point she feels something more than an ache.

"Want it," Tzuyu whispers out against Sana's smile. "From the back, like you promised," she says, and takes the shudder out of your breathing.

Sana cups her jaw, laughing. She puts one arm around Tzuyu's throat and bites at her chin, at her ear. "I bet he'd do just about anything to give you what you want, baby."

Tzuyu’s hips snap down onto yours again. Melting your cock in this thick, molten heat.

And again, faster. Needier.

The kind of movements across your lap that make everything louder - a beautiful chorus of small-sounds. Slaps and squelching. Wet and gasping and begging and skin-on-skin. You'd never, ever considered the act a competition before, not with Sana. But when Tzuyu seems to be seeing who can pull the most erotic of noises out from underneath your ribcage - or the highest pitched sigh - the wetter and louder it all gets -

"Sana."

"Tzu."

Tzuyu rides the pressure and finds her voice, head thrown back, jaw slack. "Sana - tell him to, I'm gonna, soon. Tell him what to do."

"Beg for him," and Sana gives her the fakest-of-all-pouts when she slips her hand along Tzuyu's inner thigh, nearing her where the two of you meet, then slowing her pace, bringing you both to an immediate stand-still, while her fingertips continue, ghosting across the shape of your stomach. "He doesn't need anything less than the truth."

Tzuyu's face. It's the most gorgeous thing you've seen. Her hips are winding slow against you when you hit a spot you're not entirely sure either of you can recreate at your own whim: deep inside. Her eyes as wide as they can be. All of her sharp edges now just these subtle things - the very shape of the shadow beneath her clavicle, the tensing of her thighs at your sides, the gentle lines that curl up from the wide bottoms of her hips when your fingers thread up her belly, palm open flat.

"I want," is where Tzuyu starts, not hiding it any part. "I want you to bend me over the bed." 

And in a breathless voice: 

"Please, please let me have what I want. Just bend me over the bed, shove my legs apart and take me. Hold me down. Fuck me and fill me and don't let me move or say a thing. Until we're both fucking finished."

You swallow. Hard.

Because here's what Sana's brought you: this tall brunette with an impossibly beautiful ass and thighs to die for, a sin-full mouth. The curves in her waist and back and tits a distraction, that you might try to map out until you're so lost you forget how to leave, how to ever take your cock out of this tight cunt.

"Is that a thing you can do?" Tzuyu practically purrs in one long tone, pushing herself up your waist, until your cock falls out and hangs there. Until you can only see all of this clear, gorgeous skin in front of you and hear her pretty little moan. "God, please, daddy, I’m begging you."

(She says this last part in a way that lets you know this isn't something either of you will get over easily, the kind of pleasure, the feeling and the flash. She's unreadable - almost, not quite- just too honest, there's nothing else for you to believe. Maybe that's where the shiver comes from, or your palms itching, or the sounds of your bedding ruffling as you spin her onto her back, her tummy - pull up on her hips until they're sky high and you can palm her breasts, let her press her knees up and apart on the duvet. Until you get that first look down the column of her spine and the sudden, stunning shape of her ass in a view you never want to say goodbye to.)

Tzuyu slides her hands across your sheets, all this stretch. A flex of muscle. When she opens her hips and you push two fingers deep, inside, easy - then back out -

"How much of that," Tzuyu interrupts, blushing furiously, "do I have left to beg with? Please."

- because she's been soaked and aching all day just thinking about it. Just begging for a good fucking - or so she told Sana, who now giggles and leaves small kisses up the ridge of her spine, crawls alongside the dip-line of the mattress, and after curling her fingers around the column of Tzuyu's throat - smooths a single fingernail up and down and presses, tracing, the groove of her jaw as you nudge your cock against her.

It’s not on purpose, this needlessly drawn-out moment - simple brush of latex against her slick, dripping folds, the tightening in her core and how it matches the tension in Sana's wrist and the coarseness of the bed-linens and the hardness of you - but everything eventually folds, into her.

And you're not helping, the way you're fastened to the narrow point of her waist like it's a handle. Your thumbs riding the arch of her hips, taking every opportunity to sink your fingers hard into the flesh, grip tighter and push, pulling Tzuyu, if only to really work that friction between your hips.

"Fuck, it's all in. Finally." Sana gasps like she's the one being bent, arched, fucked from behind, then lays herself down against the length of Tzuyu's shoulder, chin bumping her cheek. Watching Tzuyu. Taking it all in.

You have a hard time making it out, but Tzuyu starts this half-whimpered litany about how she needs to be fucked (that is, roughly - deep and long, or maybe rough and short and deep, or whatever, as long as it makes her lose composure), followed with some shoddy mix of cursing and your name and Sana's - the things all three of you might consider for another chance meeting.

And as you're following up the suggestion with a low groan, that's exactly how you notice that grind in her hips - a jerk back, a twist, bucking against you. She feels so, so incredibly tight when she writhes onto you, squeezes. Like she wants to tear her heart out her chest, she's so overwhelmed. So thoroughly and totally taken by this fuck. By you. "Harder," is all she says.

This one line does it, then two more. All in-and-out thrusts from behind, fuller the second time, then the third.

Only when you find Tzuyu peering back over her shoulder with a pair of eyes that say, please, pretty-please, all liquid and warm and wanting. "Fucking ruin that cunt, I want - god. Do you have the slightest idea how much," and that is where the words disappear into a slow and sticky whine.

"Yeah baby," Sana whispers.

She knows what it is. Tzuyu wants so much more, so you give it. Give her the just-this-side-of-ruthless fucking and the slow-pace grind you know can push her right over the edge. Give her more, all of you, and get her hands twisting in the pillow and grabbing fistfuls of sheets, burying her face into the space above her wrists and nearly choking on her hair with how she moans and yelps - loud.

Her whole body jolts forward the next time. The arch to her back deepening. Body drawing in on a flawless line.

Tzuyu does cum. Eventually.

She keens and rolls and begs you not to pull out or slow, just stay put and fill her with your cum - keep fucking going, please. The only thing keeping her from landing flat on your mattress as she practically unravels around your cock are fingers you have under her hips, tightening. Bruising.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck me, you’re,” you’re railing out of her lungs, where the words hang on sex-stale air.

First with Sana whispering promises into her ears and letting Tzuyu swallow, and suck around the length of her index, then two, fingers. Then licking a kiss into her mouth, tongue tangling up hers and finishing up the act with, "cum for us, Tzu, like the sweet girl you are - you take him so well."

Then, with your hand held over her ass-

(She could cry from it. From how everything pulls you in, like a riptide, and, really, with no regard for things like safety or drowning.)

-the utterance off her lips has your stomach twisting into knots:

"Keep," you hear her ask Sana. Barely getting the words out as you ride, fast. "Please, keep, telling him that I - god."

It gets worse before it gets better.

"I can't - I need; fuck, I can’t, with the rubber, I want him," and Sana smirks like she knew all along. "Sana, please-"

"You want the real thing, sweetie. Isn't that right, baby? Hm. Of course it's okay," and Sana soothes a hand through her friend's fringe, pushes it away from her eyes and over her ears, making something that sounds like an adoring laugh slip out. "You want him to fuck his cum so deep in that pussy, I know you do, don't worry."

When you slow down the grinding, wipe the sweat from your face, Sana gets your attention and nods to the very place your cock is disappearing between the cheeks of Tzuyu's ass, "go ahead. If you want the mess-up, sweetie - let's make sure that's exactly what he'll give you."

Who exactly wants what most is hard to say. Sana's the one pulling off the condom, the rubber stretching to an obscene limit that has you fearing for your life should it snap back before it breaks. Tzuyu is already a sort of gaping mess with it all, her own fingers snuck under to rub harsh circles in the absence of cock and something firm and heavy to fill her. To feel full.

And there's you, asking, or maybe, double-checking: "Tzuyu, you're saying you want me to-"

"She doesn't care," is what you're interrupted with, courtesy of Sana. "Fuck a baby into her cunt, that's what she wants."

(Like you wouldn't fucking love it too. Or have the frame of mind to even begin to unpack all of that.)

It’s a lot, admittedly.

And not just because Tzuyu has never looked better: on all fours, pressed, and presented. Legs all the way apart and ass and thighs in your grip, with that smile all pointedly certain and wild-eyed, like, she knows, that you know exactly what to give her - what she really wants - filling her so full and marking your claim by fucking your cum right to her very core.

Tzuyu drags her head back, so she can peek over her shoulder and meet your eyes.

She does things. Like sighing this small sound and laughing and - she has this thing for noises, for things breaking under the strain, where she won't say a word, except to murmur some part of your name into your jawline, a raggedness in her breathing. Sheer hunger.

"I want - want you to, fuck me."

You will. Or you are. Or you're going to, only - Sana's lips are fast around your cock, fingers fluttering delicately between your thighs and drawing these stuttering sounds in your breath, "I will. I will. I'm - I will."

Sana just hums, copper hair bobbing in place. Her hot mouth and wet fingers pulling and sliding and pulling and sliding. Tongue moving in all the ways she knows you like.

Which, here’s a fact: Sana can be mean. No one would believe it.

But sometimes this is the price of admission. You have to be honest about what it takes, how, exactly, you intend to break this beautiful brunette whose ass is swaying back and forth in this mesmerizing little waggle of the hips. It's hard not to marvel, not to ask questions and not wonder at what a pair of friends so similar and so opposite do to each other and other people and to themselves in those small, private hours and space no one else shares, that has you panting and burning and her clasping the hollow of your neck and asking with her body if this is okay, because sometimes, in moments of absolute need, just a glance can mean your end.

So, there's no tease; Sana is well aware of what it feels like when you're throbbing and ready to burst - she's working you up and over and right to that point of no return-

"Can I? Fucking-"

"Fine," she replies, maybe having now considered every other way you might spill a hot load out and make a mess of the sheets. "Have at her," and a flick of tongue catches around the tip of your cock - the final tease, the best punishment.

And the promise of how Tzuyu makes that perfect whimpering cry. Something entirely wounded. Because as soon as it begins - your cock in the shallow depth of her creaming cunt - you're both made aware how she's wetter than she was an hour ago and clenching at nothing, hands balling themselves in frustration, palms bunched white-knuckled up in fists. She needs something, anything. Something for her to squeeze against. For her to bear down on and bounce her cunt off-

The sound all three of you make when you grit your teeth and bury yourself deep into her pussy is a guttural, aching thing, with you biting a lip and gasping. Tzuyu half-growling-half-sobbing into the sheets.

It doesn't matter that she lets Sana cover her open and slack mouth in an attempt to quiet it.

It doesn't matter because in a blink, the exact point in which you sink completely inside - where it's the first, the best, feeling of Tzuyu’s hot pussy taking your cock.

(Mind-numbing, is the word that doesn't come to you.)

Under you, Tzuyu is writhing and hot and tight into the mattress - and so desperate.

"Please," is about all that gets away from her. Which is just too cute to ignore: she's been dying to be fucked, ever since stepped into your foyer and was introduced by the softest, most deliberate of gestures that wound up being all-too intimate. "Please- I need - harder, fucking-"

Sana takes to touching you, her own little form of enjoyment that ends with her fingertips mapping the shape of your jaw. Pupils blown, "Isn't she amazing?" Sana laughs into your neck.

"Fucking," is what your first real stroke back into Tzuyu pulls out,  “unreal."

The friction has you both grinding your bodies together at the base, and she arches, this throaty moan, before looking back up at you and letting her mouth fall open - this wordless sentence of plea, over and over again. She's shaking. Body-full. It's almost something painful to see, that she's so undone - and what if you were the only person who'd ever fucked her like this: into ruin.

Tzuyu clenches around the next thrust - begging, so-sore-and-begging to cum.

The demand is practically written in her muscles, and all you want is for her to let go for the second, third, last time - until she loses track of the count. To get there before you have the time to register that she is actually doing it. She's already half-way gone and at your mercy - her only choices now, being: cum, or let you chase the orgasm you're currently rubbing all around the curve of her cunt.

Sana swallows her scream when the first little cry comes, that you've edged out of her. And it gets worse and better the second time her ass meets your thighs, where she's making a real mess on your hips and all but yelling out her orgasm in her state of such incoherent stutter and disarray. The arch to her back is this thing out of your best imagination, which has you - pounding out all her noises - gripping and curving over the plane of her stomach. Until Tzuyu's beginning to make these different cries, somewhere new, somewhere you're finding a whole lot deeper.

"Hold her ass up and fuck her 'til she's full of cum," is the advice you get from Sana in the end, as you fuck her and fuck her through the tumultuous rise and fall of orgasm after orgasm, "oh baby, does it hurt so good? Do you feel that heat spreading down your thighs and getting you all slick? You always knew the best toys are the ones that get bred, sweetheart."

And from her, barely, "fuck, yes."

That's what does it: the desperation just that tangible in all your voices.

Sana manages to get her lips on yours. A kiss that could knock the wind out of your sails under normal circumstances, one that curls a fist and tugs around a familiar part of you. But Tzuyu's eyes roll and drop low, fluttering shut, while your hips crash in quickening succession:

"Fuck-you're so-perfect, cum in me again, daddy - make me," and, "please, so fucking full, just give me more. Want more of you, until it's-"

Tzuyu gets you. Just there. Just the way you needed it. Just like that.

There's something addictive in how her muscles clench and grab around the head of your cock - drawing everything you'd been holding back to a painful front, and - Sana's taste in your mouth still so sweet, mixed with salt and sweat, while you fuck and pound, with absolutely zero respite. Cum buried deeper and deeper until it's spilling and Tzuyu whines for the filthy feeling. Until you're fucked through, emptying every single drop into her open cunt. Until your legs feel sore, a slight shake all through the muscle and the tension in your neck and shoulders, and you're growling this thing that might be her name, and "Tzu, my god, baby, you feel, so amazing," in between thrusts.

It earns you an appreciative whimper.

Something breathy and not-at-all restrained. She doubles down on it when your cock slides out of her swollen, well-fucked cunt.

At first, she only hums a sleepy smile and turns her face in toward the touch, eyes closed and unresponsive. A long exhale. Even like this - especially, perhaps - Tzuyu is lovely.

Either out of exhaustion or overbearing satisfaction, you collapse into her - bodies folding up like that old-cliche about a stack of cards or dominoes - with your cheek to her back and your arms wrapping around her chest, tight, trying to squeeze. Like you're hugging someone from behind. Which isn't too far off. Because for the next five or ten or fifteen minutes or a half-hour, you lie there, pressing your face in against the side of her neck, smelling her hair - how sweet the strands are - then down along her shoulders, and under, listening to the soft way Tzuyu falls into her breaths. 

In, out. In, out.

Sana follows all the while with, "should we not have let her ride, first?"

To which, Tzuyu says, "fuck off."

Sana brushes it off, crawls around your shoulders and slips two, three, five kisses into your forehead. That's when you know to shuffle over, dragging and tugging limbs and muscles and bone in the same direction - careful not to let the sticky sensation linger anywhere it shouldn't. Not even for an instant.

The three of you are laying in a total fucking mess. But it's your mess, and that's beautiful in a sort of thought-provoking poetic way.

You turn your head. Tzuyu's there, still, blinking slowly.

"Hello again, hi," you say and the smile comes up all sorts of natural. "Okay?"

Her gaze shifts into something vague, so much quieter, but she nods. So it must be. Okay.

-

“Is it too early?” Tzuyu asks two weeks later, and nothing has ever, ever started like that.

She’s at your doorstep, a little too dressed up for the middle of the afternoon, hair pulled away from her face in two loose braids, bright eyes, lip-gloss that shimmers just enough. Something innocent in the whole way she looks and stands and smiles. Nothing, on the surface, that gives the truth away.

You lift an eyebrow, skeptical. Always. "I wasn't expecting company."

"Yes you were," and she dangles a set of keys.

"I'm sorry, did you steal those?"

The laughter from her chest is as surprising as it is gorgeous, rich and thick like molasses, rolling over the shape of her tongue. It hits you hard that two weeks - really, any amount of time - it’s not nearly long enough.

And before Tzuyu can admit as much out loud, Sana chirps from her spot aside the door, knee bent and grinning, "maybe I did."

"Well," you say, hands on your hips, "this is all a little..."

"Irregular, I know." Sana's giving her best impression of you: so exasperated.

"Which is, honestly," she continues to explain, pushing away from her perch and approaching in these small, gentle steps. "We need, that thing you promised you'd do," she trails a finger up the buttons of your shirt, under your jaw. You're already drowning. "Whenever" - is her very worst torture - "we called."

(Might just be a little bit of trouble, is the one honest answer, to whatever you were trying to start when you saw their faces and recognized their bodies and said: yes, come inside and meet me and fuck my brains out, all that.

What a way to begin. What a story it'll be.)

a/n: these two are fucking adorable.

[mehrsdigitaldiary]

Nothing Feels Better

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

summary- the legendary win. a win no one will forget

a/n- AGGHHHHH I'M STILL NOT OVER HIS WIN IT FEELS LIKE A FEVER DREAM FRGRGHSKFQWRJ. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this, I'm sorry if this is bad, I'm still improving🤍

masterlist <3 | football masterlist

The atmosphere in the McLaren hospitality was tense. No one relaxed after Lando pit. Each and everyone in the hospitality was a nervous wreck, their eyes focused on the gap between him and Max.

You were sitting with Ria and Aarav, heart racing, praying to all the gods for no fuck ups. The safety car ended and the tension levels in the hospitality were at an all time high with Verstappen lining his car up almost next to Lando. Everyone was up from their seats. This was it.

Once the green flag was waved, Lando pulled away with ease but Max was well within DRS range. But with pressure from Charles and Carlos right on his tail, Max had to focus on defending his position rather than fighting Lando for P1, although the gap between Lando and Max kept giving you mini heart attacks with it decreasing and increasing every millisecond.

Lap 33 to Lap 56 went by in the blink of an eye. It was the last lap of the race. No one in the hospitality dared to move till he passed the last corner of the track. After he did, the entire hospitality emerged in cheers, mechanics running over to the pitwall grill and climbing it to cheer your boyfriend on his very first of many wins in Formula 1.

You however stayed put where you were holding Ria's hand, both of your eyes glued to the screen until Lando crossed the finish line. You were completely shocked. Your boyfriend had won the Miami Grand Prix. LANDO WAS A RACE WINNER. Now, everything was a blur to you, all you were thinking about was running to Parc Fermé and smothering your boyfriend in kisses.

Lando was the last to reach Parc Fermé. He got out of his car and ran towards the mechanics, jumping on them. Next he came to you and captured your lips in a passionate kiss, you crying into the kiss. You pulled him into a hug before he left for the post race interview, "I'm so so so proud of you my love. My future champion, I love you.", you whispered into his ears. Lando whispered a quick 'I love you' to you with a cheeky wink before he rushed for his interview.

"Lando Norris, how does it feel to be an F1 Grand Prix winner?" Jenson asked him. "About time huh? Fuck, sorry. But yeah, it feels surreal. I'm so thankful for my team, my family, my friends, my girlfriend Y/N who is right there for their constant support. I wouldn't recommend recording her right now she's a mess." he chuckled. "But yeah, a huge thanks tot the team for believing in me, I finally delivered to them."

Once the podium celebrations were over, Lando and you went back to his drivers room. As soon as he locked the door, he pulled you in for a long, messy, passionate kiss. "I'm beyond proud of you baby. it was always a matter of when, not if. There's so much more to come for you. My future champ." You spoke into the kiss. "thank you so much for supporting me through this baby. I wouldn't have bee able to do this without you. I love you babygirl." he said. "I love you so much more"

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yourusername

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, danielricciardo and others

yourusername P1 BABYYYYYYYYY 🏆🏆🏆 THE LOVE OF MY LIFE GOT HIS MAIDEN WIN TODAY. IM SO INSANELY PROUD OF U POOKIE🤍🤍🤍🤍 THIS IS ONE OF MANY MANY MORE TO COME♾️🧡

ALSO GOODBYE AND GOOD RIDDANCE TO "LANDO NOWINS" U WILL NOT BE MISSED

landonorris thank u so much babygirl couldn’t have done it without ur constant support🤍🤍🤍🤍

fernandoalo_official bravooooo👏🏼👏🏼

lewishamilton WELL DONE.

lnfour HE’S A RACE WINNER NOW GUYS🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼

user okay but is anyone going to talk about how Y/N and ria fell when he crossed the finish line😭😭

— user that and how Y/N sprinted to climb the pitwall grill with the mechanics to cheer lando on 🥹😭

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Requests are open send in requests for fics and blurbs <33

[blimpintime]

a jar of wind part two

Wynnie Lara is a fairy that was saved from a jar from Amarantha's reign of terror, but is soon figuring out that her time of peace is coming to an end.

warnings: none besides being slightly unedited.

word count: 1.4k

4 months later 

Dearest Wynnie Lara,

I hope you are doing well, we miss you very dearly in the Night Court but understand you leaving after such harsh things were spoken to you. I wanted to invite you to Nyx’s first birthday celebration. He does miss you so much. (As do we).

After finding out what Azriel and the other two had said to you I almost blew up their homes with the help of my sisters. 

Elain misses you very much, even though she writes letters to you weekly, you and her seemed to help each other heal after everything happened to you both. She won't tell anybody where you have gone so I will be handing this letter to her in hopes it reaches you. 

We miss you so much, and I hate that the boys said those harsh things to you for no reason. You are not a bother, or suffocating, you light up every space you go into which is so refreshing, I do not want you to feel forced to come home (Nesta feels otherwise, she misses you so much she almost started a war with another court in search of you.) But we do want you to know you do have a home here. No matter what. I know Rhys feels devastated with how the situation turned out, even though it is partially his fault.  I want to make it clear how sorry we are for their actions and that we adore you. 

Lovingly, 

Feyre

I crumple the edges of the letter with tears streaming down my face, with a shaking breath I fold the letter gently and put it back into the envelope. I set it with the piles of letters Elain has sent to me on my coffee table. I wipe my face and head over to my rough looking door of the tree house that I am living in and latch it. This area of the Autumn Court has always been on the poorer side but it was home. Growing up with no family and moving around as a fairy was never safe, so before Amarantha’s reign I settled in this area of Autumn. 

Having not been to this home in two years it took a while to get it back into shape, cleaning and removing critters that have turned it into their home while I was gone. I have wind chimes and wards surrounding this home just like my other one, the difference here though is the Autumn wind is much more soothing for me then in any other court. It’s almost like my soul knows it's safe here. 

I have my wind playing soothing music with the small instruments placed around the open room. Candles lit and windows open for the utmost ambiance while I research different wind patterns.

I hear one of my chimes go off near the front door that catches my attention, I get up from the table and walk back to the door.  Frantic knocking is what I hear once I get to the door itself, I rip it open to see what is wrong. 

“Miss Wynnie!” with a sob, and I look down to see one of the kids I help take care of from the children’s shelter near my tree house. Little antlers poke through his red hair, and tears stream down his tanned face as he launches towards me. 

“Oatie what is the matter?” I say and crouch to his level. I put my hands on his shoulders to sooth him and look him in the eyes.

“Those mean guards are back at the shelter, they are demanding more money.” Oatie is a twelve year old boy who had to grow up quickly due to being an orphan partially under Beron’s rageful reign, but he was still a gentle soul. Things have started to get better slowly with the new High Lord, but it is a slow process when the court has so much hate built in. 

“Okay sweet boy, it’s going to be alright. Go curl up on the couch with a book and some tea and I will go take care of this okay?” I tell him with a soft voice. He nods and heads off that way. Once he is settled on the couch I fix my dress, and re-braid the two long braids under my bob and fly off the balcony.

When I arrive at the shelter there are two guards yelling at the volunteer on duty at the shelter. With a burst of wind I separate them from the worker, and land in front of them. I motion for the worker to go inside.

“What is the issue here?” I bark at them, their heated eyes turn to me.

“They owe us money for protection.” The one on the right says with a grunt.

“That’s your job. The High Lord literally pays you to protect the people. So that was the wrong answer, do me a favor and try again.” I say while rolling my eyes and shifting my weight to one hip. 

“You bitch.” One says and I let out a laugh with a clap of my hands. I know I probably shouldn’t egg them on but it’s so easy. As I am about to respond they both seem to stiffen and look behind me.

“Well that’s no way to speak to a lady.” I turn to face the new voice, which belongs to High Lord Eris, who recently has had his hair trimmed since the last time I saw him. 

“She is barely a lady, my lord.” One said with a snicker. I respond with a glare and a large gust of wind knocking them both over.

I turn to face Eris completely and give him a graceful curtsy grabbing the edges of my green dress. To which I receive a sucking of the teeth sound from him.

“Wynnie dear, stand up please. You don’t have to bow to me, we are old friends.” He says with a soft smile. The two guards seemed to have disappeared leaving the two of us alone. I straighten and glow a soft pink with a cheeky grin say,

“Yes, well, I have to show my respect My Lord.” He chuckles and makes a small lunge toward me, so I float backwards and he narrowly misses me. 

“You’ll have to be quicker than that to catch me sir.” He grunts a small breath and lunges towards me again. And I am suddenly reminded of when we were younger.

“Eris! Where are you?” I yell knowing he is hiding behind one of the trees with his hounds. 

“Got you!” I hear from behind me and feel my waist being pulled into someone's chest. I look up over my shoulder and see Eris with a wide grin. I pout at him. 

“That’s not fair.” I whine. “You know I am afraid of your pups, they think I am a big bird waiting to be hunted.”  He laughs in response. 

“I would never let them hurt you Wynnie Lara, I would never let anyone hurt you.” He said softly. “You are my only friend in this wretched court. I will burn it down to protect you.” 

“Eris that is sweet but, you are an heir would that not be counterproductive?” I ask teasingly but my skin glowing a bright warm orange with endearment. 

“Not for you Wynnie.” He says.

“I can’t stay in this area long, but I did want to invite you to dinner soon.”  He tells me when we both are sitting on the forest floor. Me on a rock with my wings glowing and him leaned up against it. My hands naturally find his hair and gently run my fingers through it. 

“I would love to.” I tell him, “I might visit the Night Court here soon.” I say with a whisper.

“Oh?” He asks me softly.

“Nyx is turning one and I miss the girls a little bit.” I responded.

“Yes, that's understandable. I still am beyond livid for how you were treated there.” He says back with a huff. And I laugh a little, “You and me both.” 

“I will have to send you with a gift, hmm?” He tells me. 

“That would be very kind of you, my lord.” And in response I get him standing up and pinching my sides. 

“Mercy! Mercy!” I say in between giggles. 

“Alright Wynn. I will send a letter for dinner when you return. Be safe and have a good night.” He tells me with a pat to the head and soft voice. 

a/n: soooooooooooo what do with think???

I am a sucker for soft Eris omggggg. Please if any questions please let me know!

I am trying the taglist I hope it works lmao

taglist: @cazrielsfairygf @buckyloki888 @litnerdwrites @the-fandom-ness @booksbypisces @nerdyalmondlawyerauthor

[runninriot]

A Christmas Wish Come True

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles day 25

prompt: Christmas | rated: G | wc: 1.000 | tags: Eddie & Wayne Munson, single dad Steve, found family, strangers to lovers

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | AO3 (+ bonus epilogue)

“So, wanna tell me about your little side gig as grandpa, Wayne?”

It was meant as a joke but his voice sounds angrier than he intended and it makes Eddie instantly feel bad.

   “I’m sorry. It’s just- why haven’t you told me?”

   “Look, that kid, Robbie, she only has her dad. And Steve is doing his best raising her all alone but- you know how me met? I’d just gotten off work, drove by his house and saw him sitting there on the front porch, looking like he was two seconds away from a mental breakdown. That man was a mess and he needed someone to take him by the hand. So, I reached out mine and he took it.”

He scrubs a hand over his chin, a habit he always has when he’s deep in thoughts.

   “I wanted to tell ya, I just didn’t find the right moment. And I was a little worried you’d have a problem with it. I know you had a thing for that boy back in high school and I didn’t know if you guys had ever been... close, so-“

   “No, no! Back up, Wayne. What?”

Eddie’s mouth falls open in shock. It’s not like he ever had to hide the fact that he likes guys – Wayne always knew, always accepted Eddie for all he is. But never, not once, did he mention his stupid infatuation with Steve. There’s no fucking way his uncle knew.

   “Oh, don’t act so surprised. Every single piece of paper lying around your mess of a room had a little heart with Steve’s name on it.”

    Oh, right.

   “Okay, I give you that but why would you think we’ve been like, together? Even you must see how ridiculous that is. Have you looked at the man?”

Eddie bites his tongue before he says something like ‘He’s way too perfect to be with someone like me’. Wayne doesn’t need to know that he’s still got heart eyes for Steve and he already said too much.

   “Yeah, I saw. I also heard how he talked about you. How he got all soft when he talked about all the mischief you were up to in high school. That cost me all my hair by the way, so thanks for that.”

Wayne laughs and Eddie would too, if he wasn’t so confused right now.

   “Whether you knew it or not, that boy liked you. And seeing you two today, I’m pretty sure you still have that in common. You are both so bad at hiding it.”

Their conversation did not mess Eddie up. It didn't, okay? And he's definitely not nervous when he opens the door for Steve and Robbie to come in, right on time for Christmas dinner.

It doesn't make him feel like he's vibrating out of his skin when Steve takes the seat next to him, so close their knees occasionally touch.

And it doesn't cause a full-body shiver when their hands accidentally brush while reaching for the same bread.

It's fine. Everything is fine. Wayne doesn't know what he's talking about. There's nothing between them. No sparks, no fire, no longing glances. They’re just two small families celebrating Christmas together. Nothing more.

That's why, when Eddie excuses himself to have a smoke outside after dinner, and Steve follows him, he doesn't think much of it.

But of course, reality always comes crashing in. And when Steve huddles closer, stands right next to him, sharing his cigarette like that’s normal, Eddie can’t take it anymore.

   “Wanna hear something funny?” he asks, trying hard to control the tremble in his voice.

   “Wayne thought you and I were, you know, a thing in high school. That’s why he didn’t tell me about meeting you.”

Eddie laughs but it sounds fake, and for a long moment, all Steve does is look at him, eyes piercing like they’re trying to see into Eddie’s soul.

   “Mhm, very funny,” he then says but doesn't sound amused at all.

   “No, it really is, because I had the biggest crush on you back then."

Eddie swallows, looks, waits. Doesn't know what for because it feels like anything could happen.

   "Had?" It almost sounds like a tease but Eddie can sense that Steve's nervous.

   "Would it be bad if it was still true?" Eddie asks, unsure of where this is going.

   "Depends.” Steve answers, a tentative smile on his lips, “Would it be bad if I wanted to kiss you right now?"

Eddie isn't sure if he's still breathing and if his heart's still beating because the world is spinning too fast and-

His lips are on Steve's, testing, pressing, and there are hands in his hair, and the night becomes day, and everything feels right, feels good, feels like something finally clicks into place.

They kiss until their lungs hurt, kiss some more after a giggle fit. Kiss again until the door opens and Robbie is standing before them with wide eyes.

   "Oh, sh-oot! Hey, baby! Sorry, Eddie and I were just-"

   "Thank you, Santa!" Robbie yells against the sky and Eddie's heart explodes.

The worry on Steve's face makes way for confusion and Eddie feels bad for cheating because contrary to Steve, he's in on Robbie's secret.

   "Grandpa Wayne said to tell you we're having hot chocolate and cookies for dessert."

   "We'll be right there," Eddie answers for Steve, who still seems a little frozen in place.

Once the door closes behind her, Steve releases a shaky breath.

   "That- did not go like I thought it would."

For a moment, Eddie worries Steve's going to take it back. That the shock broke him out of whatever spell he was under.

But Steve kisses him again, before taking his hand to lead them back inside, where Wayne greets them with a smug smile. Eddie can practically hear the 'I told you so' but that's okay.

He's happy Wayne was right.

Happy that a little girl's wish aligned so perfectly with his own.

A Christmas wish come true.

[hysteria-things]

✿ PROMISE? ✿ PART ONE.

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: guess who’s back in town: the sturniolo triplets. it’s for their birthday party their parents are throwing, the same party your parents force you to go to.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,054

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: we’re locked in on the series, folks!

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐆𝐎 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐘 without seeing something along the lines of the sturniolo triplets, and it fucking pisses you off. your parents went to high school with theirs and were really close. your mom got pregnant with you around the same time marylou got pregnant with the triplets, your “best friends.”

the same triplets that left you months ago because of their career of being youtubers. the least they could’ve done was still message you, but no. they unfollowed you on everything.

you texted them multiple times, but all you got was one-word answers or no answer at all. as much as you didn’t want to, you stopped trying after a while because it was no use.

your parents still hang out with marylou and jimmy, sometimes even justin when he’s in town. at least you got one more best friend that you grew up with, nathan doe.

nathan is the youngest out of the four of you. nick, matt, and chris are turning twenty tomorrow and nate’s turning nineteen on the ninth. you’ve been nineteen since april, so you’re right in the middle.

you guys met him in elementary school and he was the last piece of the puzzle. you guys were even called the FOREVER FIVE, something you all made up at a sleepover in the fourth grade.

of course the three stooges didn’t drop him when they left. favoritism, i guess.

you scroll angrily on tiktok. it’s like the app senses your hatred for them and decides to put edits or clips from their videos on your for you page. this shit is definitely not for you.

then, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. “come in.” you call out, and your mother comes in. she sits on your bed and sighs. “what’s up?” you ask.

she gives you a face of sympathy, and it scares you a little. “the triplets are back in town.” she starts, and that gains your attention. “and i want you to come with me and your father to their birthday party tomorrow.”

“no.” you flat-out say. it’s no secret that your mom knows about your hatred either since you cried to her for a week straight about how they abandoned you.

“y/n, please.” your mom puts a hand on your knee. “marylou would love to see you there. she asks about you, you know. she misses you.”

frowning, you start to think. you miss her too. you never blamed her for what her sons did, but you haven’t seen her since they left. she is the sweetest lady you’ve ever met. “and they’re celebrating nate’s birthday, too. you have to at least show up for him, okay?”

you exhale sharply. “okay.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 party the next day with your parents, making your way to the backyard where it’s held. not a lot of people are there, just close friends and family. you scan the area at the top of the steps for nathan, getting disappointed when you don’t see him.

marylou engulfs you in a hug the moment you step on the grass. “hello, sweetheart!” she exclaims, pulling away with a big smile on her face. she places her hands on your shoulders. “how are you doing? you feeling okay?”

“i’m doing fine!” you reply in the same tone, putting on a fake smile.

“thank you so much for coming. i know it’s been a little… strange for you for the past few months. i’m sorry about that.”

“please don’t apologize. you did nothing wrong,” you say and she pulls you back in for another hug.

“if you want, the boys are standing by the chips and dip. if not, don’t be afraid to make yourself comfortable.” she points to the numerous folding tables set up.

god, you missed this woman. “i will. thank you so much.”

you walk over to the table where your parents are, placing your things down before joining them.

“twenty years old is fucking disgusting.” nick rants, dipping a chip in onion dip and popping it into his mouth.

the other two giggle. “yeah, well—” chris pauses when he turns his head and lands eyes on someone. “holy shit, guys.” he taps both of his brothers on the arm.

“look.” he continues, pointing at you from across the way when he gets his sibling’s attention. “we have to talk to her.”

“chris, no.” matt says. “do you not know that she hates us? it was shitty, what we did. that’s honestly my biggest regret.”

“we are petty losers for that.” nick chimes in.

chris crosses his arms. he would do anything to get you back into his life. there was no specific reason why they did what they did. they ghosted a lot of old friends ever since they moved to LA, and you got unlucky. “fine. if you guys won’t, i will. i want to get my best friend back.”

“chris, wait! that’s not a good idea!” the two scream at him as he starts to march over to you, who’s now pouring pepsi into a red solo cup.

you gasp out of shock when you turn around and see a brunette towering over you. “hi.” he says lowly. “i didn’t think you’d come.”

“i came for nate.” you say coldly. “where is he?”

“he has to do something before he comes.” you move over to start walking, but he steps in front of you.

“chris—”

“i’m so fucking sorry.” he apologizes. “we miss you.”

“should’ve thought of that before you woke up one day and decided to pretend i didn’t exist.”

his heart aches at your words. the three of them really are assholes. “can we just start over? please?”

“start over?” you scoff. “we can’t start over after all of that. i practically known you since birth, and you want to start over?”

“y/n, i’m—”

you peek over his shoulder and cut him off. “nate’s here.” you eventually get out of his way and start to head over to nate, but stop and turn back around.

there’s a hint of hope in chris that you changed your mind, but he was wrong. “i kept the note.”

he furrows his eyebrows. “what note?”

ouch.

you laugh to yourself. of course, he doesn’t remember. “never mind. happy birthday.” you mumble, walking off into the crowd.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho

[kigieri]

Wiser

Fernando Alonso × Reader

A nice birthday breakfast with your favourite person.

A/N: A birthday post for myself! Even though it has already been some time. It's short and sweet, just something I gifted myself. It is really hard for me to capture the way Fernando speaks English. I gave it my best shot.

This story on AO3.

It was nice to be able to celebrate her birthday with Fernando. There was no bad blood over him having to spend this time of year at a racetrack halfway across the world, but it was nice to have him home for it, too. They could celebrate together, and even had the time for a little party with friends and family.

She woke up to Fernando stroking her hair, lightly so as not to wake her. She stretched as much as possible without actually compromising the comfortable position she was in, and stretched her neck towards her lover for a kiss. "Happy birthday, hermosa." His voice was a bit rough from sleep, but she could practically hear him smiling.

After turning around, she laid her head on his chest. "Good morning," She muffled into his chest. A slight chuckle could be heard from him. "Do you want to stand up or stay lying?" She craned her neck to look up at him from her lying position and raised an eyebrow. "Stay."

Fernando nodded, returning to stroking her hair. After laying together for another half hour, they decided it was time to stand up. Fernando made her sit down at the little table in the kitchen. They found it more comfortable than the big one in the living room. He was not fond of cooking and refused to do it most of the time, but for her birthday he scrapped together all the talent he did not have, as she slyly remarked.

A few minutes, and her helping out, later, they had food in front of them. In between, they talked about plans for the winter break and what they had been up to while apart.

"If we're spending Christmas in Spain, should we spend new years at home? I think that would be nice." Fernando nodded, not seeming convinced. "Do you want to go to the Alps?" She looked up from her plate. "You don't like it that cold." He shrugged his shoulders. "I will survive." A smile crept onto her face.

She had wanted to spend new years in the Alps for a few years, but had repeatedly indulged Fernando's, and her own, love for warmth and had returned to sunnier places. Him suggesting, offering even, to spend a week in the high altitudes made her feel giddy.

She took a sip from her cup, smiling silently. They had talked about getting engaged, both thinking that they were far enough into their relationship and secure enough for the next step. This meant that Fernando might plan a proposal, either around Christmas while visiting his family, or over the year change.

"I would like that, if you're really okay with it." Fernando waved his hand. "Can go skiing and cook a lot, will be nice." After that, they continued their breakfast until Fernando looked back at her.

"What do you want to do in the morning?" They had planned a get-together with their friends for the evening, but for now they were free. She shrugged her shoulders. "Just want time with you." All the time they spend together was precious, his career often separating them. "We can stay a bit and then maybe go to the harbour. Maybe drive out a bit." Fernando nodded, always up for a bit of boat driving.

After standing up and refilling their plates from the stove, a mischievous grin took over his face. "How does it feel? One year older?"

She rolled her eyes. "We talked about this, I'm getting wiser. Just as you are." Fernando chuckled lightly. She picked up a bit of food and chewed it before muttering, "And a bit older."

Silence settled over breakfast, broken only by a remark here or there. After they finished, Fernando took on the cleaning duties. She walked up behind him, sliding her arms around his waist and laying her chin on his shoulders. "Thank you, this was really sweet."

Fernando shook his head lightly.  "Everything for you, mi vida." He put the plaid he was washing on the drying rag and wiped his hands dry, before turning around in her arms. "On your birthday and every other day, we are together." He leaned in, kissing her. "I love you." It was her instinctual response. The smile on her face was mirrored by the one on his. "Te amo también."

@kigieri 2024. All rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate or repost any of my work.

[perfctvelvet]

hi!! saw ur post abt ur request being dry so im chiming in..

ok so, how abt one with kendall jenner which on a very boring day in, she asks her girlfriend to take pics of her bc she needs to update her feed on ig. after many pics taken kendall asks her girlfriend to now start filming and when she does she starts undressing for the camera.

this is just a base ideia you can definitely work your way around it and have fun with it!!

Taking Pictures of You; Kendall/Reader

Content: 2nd POV. Established relationship, recording/sex tape, oral sex, fingering.

The floor of your bedroom was littered with boxes. PR boxes from luxury companies, and some you never even heard of, were everywhere. Usually Kendall's team was responsible for getting her her packages (in a more neat manner too), but it was a Saturday afternoon with just the two of you in the house.

"I told you not to wait until the last minute to do this," you poke at her.

You were in the living room, minding your business with a book you'd given up on resting on your chest while you searched for something for something to watch. Kendall came into the living room and she had that look on her face. She looked stressed to the point she seemed pained. You knew something was wrong, but you thought something was really wrong until she uttered the words, "I'm behind on posting."

Sometimes you found everything about her life a little ridiculous. You couldn't help but let out a little laugh before composing yourself. This has happened time and time before in relationship. She has an obligation, but because it isn't one a large contractual obligation, she puts it off until the last minute. At this point you considered yourself a pro at helping her figure out these situations. So instead of watching something on Netflix, you were in your bedroom trying to help her out.

"Okay, I've separated everything into two piles; instagram posts and instagram stories."

"You know you didn't have to unbox everything at once right?"

"Well, I wanted to see what was sent!"

She was like a kid on Christmas with all of her presents. You rummaged through the 'instagram stories' pile and it was just a hodgepodge of things. She was sent things from brand collaborations of celebrities she hasn't even said more than three words to. Some of the brands were familiar and from friends, but everything else seemed so random.

"Don't worry about that stuff babe. I wanna try this on."

You turn around to see her holding up a sheer Alaia dress. Kendall looks at it with pure adoration in her eyes, and you yourself were no longer interested in the other stuff that was sent to her. You needed to see her in that.

"Should I try it on first?"

"Yes," you say a little too quickly. She laughs at how eager and interested you are now, but she knows that you like to see her all dressed up.

The loungewear comes off, and soon her body is adorned in body-hugging, black viscose. Underneath is just a lacy thong. She took her hair out of the ponytail, let it come down over her shoulders. She looks too good for just an instagram post.

"Make up or no make up?"

"I think you look perfect, honey."

"Well, I should at least do blush."

She finishes making herself more "presentable" to be posted, but you love the juxtaposition of her in something so gorgeous with a bare face. She promises not to over do it, only dusting her cheeks with a light pink blush. Moments later and she's ready for you to resume your role as her unofficial photographer.

Kendall poses right in front of the big window in your bedroom; the light coming in and hitting her in the best way possible. The sun was still high in the sky and you could feel its rays warming your skin as you stand in front of her. Your appearance on her instagram page was always subtle, but you couldn't help the fact that your shadow was in the photos.

"Lets come by the window," she directed you. She knew what she was doing, but over the years you've gotten accustomed to what angles she liked the best.

You viewed her through the LED screen of your phone but glanced up a few times at her to see just how beautiful she is. You're sure some of your photos are duds because you're distracted by her instead of focusing on taking the pictures. Your camera roll is probably filled with nearly 50 photos of her before she asks you to start film.

"I want a close up of the dress. Let everyone see the details." The camera picks up on those little details she wants everyone to see. It captures the quality of the material and her skin underneath. "Okay, now back up a little."

Kendall turns around when you frame her just right. She knows what she's doing directing you behind the camera and herself in front. She unattached the clasp at the top of the neck and begins to peel the fabric off of her body to reveal her bare back and a peak of the thong sitting on her hips. You're in awe, but not shocked seeing as Kendall is no stranger in taking advantage of your "personal photographer" role as her girlfriend. She peaks over her shoulder and cups her breast before turning around to face the camera. You step back and you record her standing there in nothing but a lacy thong and the dress near her feet.

"This one going on instagram too?" You ask coyly behind the camera.

“Yeah right,” she jokes before stepping closer to you. Her whole account would be taken down if she were to post what you two were going to do.

The camera keeps recording while she kisses you. Your fingers ghost against her bare skin and she sighs into the kiss. You wanted to break the kiss, just to be able to set the camera down, but she couldn’t pull away from you. The phone nearly fell out of your hands as the kiss grew intensely. It wasn’t until you forced yourself away from her soft lips to put the camera down on the table where both of your bodies were in perfect view.

“I could kiss you forever,” you give a soft kiss to her cheek. “But, I really want to taste you,” you confess.

She smiles at you in excitement and the ache between her legs grow. Your confession gets her to crawl onto the bed and spread her legs for you. That little thong barely contains her pussy. You can see the beads of her arousal on her skin and seeping through the white material. She looked good enough to eat and you were determined to get a taste.

You crawl onto the bed and in between her legs. Kendall keeps them wide open for you while your finger tips graze against her inner thighs. Each time you drag them down her thighs, you move up and inch closer to her sex. She inhales deeply and holds her breath as she anticipates you giving her what she wants. She knows you like to tease her before your fully giving in and lapping at her pussy, and today is no different.

Kendall hooks her finger around her thong and pulls them to the side to expose herself to you. It was her way of saying c’mon baby, stop teasing already. You thought you were stronger to give into that, but seeing her bare and spread out for you had you seeing stars. You can’t help but rip the dainty thong off her of her just to have her fully naked for you. You grab her thighs and spread her wide open, her lips moving in the process and hole spreading. Hours and hours could be spent between these divine legs and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You tease Kendall’s opening, a single finger only pushing into almost two inches before you pull out. You look up at her and can see how annoyed she looks. You tilt your head at the phone recording everything to remind her of it’s presence.

“You don’t want everyone to see you being a brat, or do you?”

Usually the videos you film are on a more secure device so no one would be able to see. But, Kendall’s pussy clenches around your finger after warning her. She would never, ever want your private moments to be exposed, when she thinks about it in a fantasy world it makes her wet.

Her silence gives you the green light to keep teasing her. She’s soaking now having gotten herself all worked up trying on clothes for you. Her attempt to tease you ended up turning herself on.

“Should I have a little taste?”

“Yes, baby, please!” Kendall begs. She thinks about your tongue sliding against her clit and she shivers. Unfortunately for her you weren’t so willing to give it to her so easily. You felt like teasing her some more.

“Hmm. I don’t know if I’m ready yet. Maybe we should change positions?”

Kendall stops herself from complaining. Patiences it’s going to get her what she wants (and she knows you won’t be able to resist her for too long). You ask her to get on all fours and she listens. She’s facing the camera, staring into the lens as you bend over behind her and kiss her cheek. “Make sure you don’t hide your pretty face,” you warn. You don’t want to rewatch the video later and see her burying her face into the bed sheets no matter how good it feels. She nods affirmatively and you reward her with another kiss, this time on her back. Your kisses move lower and lower until you reach her ass. You palm the soft flesh before spreading them apart. This time you couldn’t resist how good her sweet pussy looked and you gave into the desire to taste her. Kendall almost shuts her eyes as she moans, but she reminds herself at the last second to keep them open.

Her clit is pulsing against your tongue and you can’t help but suck on it give it some relief. Poor Kendall must’ve been horny all day and only bothered you as a way to get you to play with her. You were more than happy to give her want she wants, sucking harder on her clit. Your mouth makes the nastiest, lewdest noises against her twat. Her arousal flows out of her and covers your tongue. She was so wet that it was easy to slide your thumb in her aching pussy while you sucked her clit. How she was able to keep herself up on all four was nothing short of a miracle. But, if you keep this up she’s going to collapse against the bed soon.

She’s very obedient, keeping her eyes locked with the camera as you eat her needy cunt.

“Fuck baby! Your mouth feels so good,” she whines loudly just for the camera. The mix of pussy eating and moans is so beautiful to you. Your body feels like it’s on fire from so much want. However you’re able to find relief as you hump the pillow while you eat her out.

It’s not long before your pretty girl is shaking and cumming against your mouth. You make sure to lick up each drop of arousal that seeps out of her. You hum against her pussy one last time before her legs start to give away. She grips the bedsheets, but never once does she dip her head down and hide away.

[yokohamapound]

howdy! can we get some hcs for ranpo, chuuya, and akutagawa missing (or forgetting) their s/o’s birthday?

FungusWitch: Hello! My best bish, UnluckyAmulet, has once again graced us with a guest post of delicious headcanons, so I hope you enjoy!

Please check out her AO3! She also writes for Bleach, BNHA, Durarara, Dangan Ronpa, and JJK, among others!

Characters: Edogawa Ranpo, Nakahara Chuuya, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

Contains: NSFW, birthday sex, bondage

Edogawa Ranpo

Of the three, Ranpo is far and away the smartest, in both intellect and emotional intelligence. It's very unlikely you can hide how you feel about him missing your birthday from him - even if you haven't been dating Ranpo for long, if you're his s/o, he knows you. He can read your mood like a 3-D pop-up book. It's disconcerting but also oddly comforting.

It is very unlikely he forgot your birthday - it's more probably that he was doing a job for the Armed Detective Agency and got so wrapped up in it that he temporarily set aside everything else until it was finished. When Ranpo is chasing an interesting case it's nigh on impossible to get him to focus on anything else.

Once his hyperfixation ends, though, he does feel a little guilty. You ARE the s/o to the World's Greatest Detective, after all, so logically that means you ought to be celebrated! He gets right to it, roping in poor hapless Atsushi and other members of the Agency into decorating the office for your birthday. Of course he knows what gift you want (and probably makes Atsushi, Kunikida or someone go out and actually buy it. What? He'd get lost if he had to take the train to the mall!) He still takes credit when you praise him for being so thoughtful.

Ranpo tends to be a little lazy and spoiled, but for you, on your special day, he very nobly puts that aside to spoil you for a change. You wanna go do something fun like visit an amusement park or go to a concert? Great! He'll have Fukuzawa pay for tickets! You want to do something more lowkey, maybe chilling at home cuddling and watching movies with him? Awesome, he'll get popcorn! You wanna go out partying and getting shitfaced? Well…he's not much of a drinker, but he'll still come with to dance with you and hold your hair back when you puke. (He'll make Fukuzawa come pick your drunk ass up.)

And don't forget a long, long night of some truly incredible oral - Ranpo's best asset in the bedroom is that tongue of his, so he's going to go to town on you~

Remember to lavish him with praise over what a great boyfriend he is. He needs the validation, okay?

Nakahara Chuuya

With Chuuya he was probably doing a mission for Mori and simply didn't have time to be there or he did forget. His way of making it up to you is simple - gifts. Chuuya is very wealthy thanks to being a high-ranking Port Mafia agent, so whatever you want is yours. That new Prada bag? Done. You want a spa day with all the works? Already booked. Fanciest resturaunt in town? He can just waltz in and get a table whenever he wants.

This may sound all fine and great, but Chuuya may not immediately notice how you're feeling about him missing your birthday - he'll apologise but in a "Oops, sorry, babe!" kind of way and you'll have to be upfront with him if you're actually upset. Chuuya does have a bit of a bad habit of buying your affection when he's too busy to spend time with you, because he's used to people depending on him and being seen as a provider. If you like gift-giving as a love language then you might not consider this an issue, but he does somewhat use his money to assuage feeling guilty and avoid discussing it because he doesn't like seeing you upset.

Also, Chuuya has no memories of before he was seven years old and I doubt very much he got to celebrate his birthdays much when he was running around Suribachi with the Sheep. Sure, he can afford to go ham for his birthday now, and his subordinates gives him gifts (Koyo always buys him wine), but he might not quite grasp the emotional significance of birthdays. Sit him down and explain to him that you appreciate the gifts, but you want him, YOUR BOYFRIEND to be with you, not a credit card.

To make it up to you, Chuuya will give you a birthday fuck that goes on all night. If you have a position or kink you haven't got around to requesting from Chuuya, now's the time, because he intends to make you feel so good you can barely walk the next day.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

I'm gonna be honest, Akutagawa is not particularly understanding or sympathetic. At least, not right away.

He grew up in the slums with his kid sister, surviving off scraps and learning to fight from a very young age. Akutagawa likely had no concept of what a 'birthday' even was except just being another year he's managed to survive in the hellhole he was born into. Even now he's an adult and can afford to do whatever he wants to celebrate if he so chooses, he's not a very birthday person. He always buys a gift for Gin and will get something for his superiors as a token of respect (because it's expected of him), and he'll begrudgingly tell Higuchi "happy birthday", but overall he doesn't consider them that important. He does appreciate being given gifts, but doesn't think of them as a necessity.

So if you get upset or angry with him, he's liable to bite back at first. Akutagawa has trouble apologising because he was never apologised to when he was treated poorly, so he's generally not good at owning up to his mistakes. Like Chuuya, you need to explain to him that even if he doesn't place much importance on birthdays, you do and it hurts you that he doesn't seem to care.

That will get to him. For as grumpy and quick to violence as he is, he does care about his s/o greatly and he doesn't want to lose you. He doesn't even know why you love him in the first place, but he isn't willing to throw your whole relationship away over something trivial like this. So, he'll treat you to whatever you want. He's got the money to really spoil you and he doesn't take much time off, so he'll be able to free up his schedule. (Gin will also remind him next time or help him set up a reminder on his phone so he doesn't miss it in future.)

Try not to force him to come clubbing or some other loud, crowded activity. He won't refuse because he feels bad, but he'll ruin the mood by brooding in the corner like a wilting plant and he gets overstimulated and grouchy quite quickly. But he doesn't mind treating you to a posh meal or going on a holiday or something like that.

I hope you don't mind being tied up, because once somebody explains to Akutagawa the concept of birthday sex, he will go find you immediately and use Rashomon to hold you still for hours while he works you over - that's one birthday tradition he doesn't consider frivolous~

[sxddekarios]

a very wholesome magic lesson

i am back with a bg3 rebranding!! this is the first fic i've ever wrote, and it's my take on Gale's act 1 romance scene at the tiefling party. Him and Tav are both oblivious to the others' feelings. read on ao3 or here!

2.2k words (of fluff)

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“I think it’s best in my condition if I don’t get too excited,” Gale reminds himself.

“Well, who said anything about excitement? Surely you’re not *that* keen on a little magic trick. I’ve seen you do plenty of other magic.” Tav responds with her signature furrowed brows.

“It’s not … the magic, per-say. More what comes with it. Though perhaps I’ve had too much wine for this conversation.” Gale attempts to stop him self, as he usually does when he’s bitten off a bit too much to chew in the flirting department.

“For what conversation? I just want to learn some more magic. There’s no way I can go enjoy our celebration, and sleep, after this cliffhanger…” Tav trails off, trying to bait him into explaining without having to fish too directly (or embarrassingly) for it.

Gale raises an eyebrow at Tav, knowing that he’s never been able to turn down an ask of hers before. He got into this mess with the orb by being a pleaser, after all. “Have a glass of wine and I’ll see if I can handle making this much of an ass of myself” Gale sighs.

Tav grabs his glass of wine and takes a tentative sip. She makes a face, disgusted by the tartness. Luckily, she manages to swallow the offending liquid. “This is all you’re getting from me, I’m afraid. Unless you can magic this into something bearable, or you’re hiding some other vices somewhere in that tent of yours, you’re gonna have to deal with talking to a sober person right now.”

Gale looks at her in mock astonishment — “Have you no taste? Have you never drank wine before? This is a *delectable* indulgence that clearly you have not been educated on. Or, perhaps, you lack the sophistication that i’ve grown terribly used to in Waterdeep.”

Tav grimaces while preparing herself for her next attempt to shut Gale up …. at least telling him how he *should* shut up, that is. Letting out a deep breath, she grabs hold of Gale’s glass and chugs it. As much as she can anyways, which still takes an eternity too long to ensure she doesn’t choke. “It’s still horrendous. But we’re even now. Spill, before I do.”

Gale glances at the empty glass in disappointment, but holds onto it. He steels himself for his next words while keeping his eyes downward. “If you must know, I speak of … physical excitement. I can handle magic, but my heart may not be able to handle … more carnal conditions of the flesh. With the orb, I risk exploding with any activity, or *feeling*, that gets my heart beating too fast, my blood pressure too high,” Gale explains.

Tav raises an eyebrow in response. “Like, you’re gonna explode as in ….” she trails off again, hoping he’ll take the hint. She knows he must be referring to the catastrophic Netherese blast they had spoken of before, but she couldn’t help herself from teasing him about the double entendre.

The blush taking over Gale’s face and neck came on far too suddenly for him to blame it on the wine. “No! Gods no, not like that! The magic in the orb will destroy me and everything around me,” Gale exclaims. Much to his avail, Tav still doesn’t stop her line of questioning.

Crossing her arms, Tav decides to enjoy the flustered nature of a blushing, tipsy Gale. “Okay, but you’re still saying you’d explode …. literally …. because you’d explode …. sexually. You said you wanted to show me a *magic* trick, not fuck my brains out.”

She pauses for a second when he lets out an indignant gasp at her directness. “Unless I’m mistaken on what a magic trick is, in which case I think you should’ve lead with that,” Tav finished with a smirk, finally meeting his eyes. She can feel the exasperation exuding from the wizard, and she loves every second of it.

Gale has no choice but to shake his head in lack of a coherent response to Tav’s brazen words. “I suppose you’ve got me there. I can show you some magic, no nefarious subterfuge. And no explosions of any kind, mortal *or* magical,” he emphasized.

Tav worries at her lip for show. “You really won’t blow up, right? Or you’ll at least warn me if you feel too much … *excitement*, stirring? We can’t leave scratch an orphan.” She thinks of mentioning the chaos that Astarion would unleash without them to reel him in, but she didn’t want to darken the mood too much.

Gale smiles at her words and lets out a little laugh as he promises that they’ll be safe. He holds out his hand, palm up, for her to take. Tav takes a hard look at his fingers for a moment, trying to commit their beauty to memory, before gently laying her hand atop his and intertwining their fingers to be led farther out of the camp. Once they reach a more quiet spot a few minutes later, Gale stops, forfeiting her warm hand to turn to her.

“This will do. Now, I want to show you the true embrace of the Weave. It’s a full-body experience to wield the Weave and feel its support of your magic,” Gale says with a smile on his face and wonder in his eyes. Tav categorizes this as his professor face, imagining him introducing lessons to his students with this pure enthusiasm.

Nevertheless, she’s more comfortable bickering with Gale than sharing that heart-warming thought with him. “You know i’m a sorcerer, right? I’ve been using the Weave my whole life. Unlike *some* people,” she pointedly includes to rile up the wizard.

“Of course. You’ve received the gift through your ancestor’s carnal relations with some dragon, while ‘some’ of us have *worked* for it,” Gale smiled, letting her know that he was joining her sarcasm in jest. “Nonetheless, there’s a very different feeling to using the Weave that comes with the years of study a wizard has. *That* is what I wanted to show you. I know you can call on the Weave as second nature, and you do a wonderful job with it, but I want you to experience the pleasure of embracing the environment, carefully going over the incantation and hand gestures, and using this to manipulate the Weave to bring your spell into reality.”

Tav felt her heart rate sky rocket with Gale’s praise for her sorcery. She wondered if the feeling he spoke of was really common to all wizards, or if he had a deeper connection as Mystra’s former lover … or victim, if you ask her. Still, she tried to focus on the positive.

“Ah, so you took me here to teach me slow careful pleasure,” Tav teased. “Get on with it then,” she encouraged with a wave of her hand.

Gale laughed in response, a deep sound that flooded Tav’s head with a light feeling, and took over her lips with a full grin.

“As you wish,” Gale bowed his head towards Tav, and proceeded with his magic lesson.

—

After an hour of teaching Tav how to connect with the Weave in this almost spiritual manner, Gale smiled at her once again. “I know you’re genuinely a natural at magic, but you did a wonderful job with this. It’s hard for someone to harness this connection without the education of a wizard.”

Tav smiles back at Gale and considers herself. “Or, maybe you’re just a good teacher.” As sure of herself as she was in magic, she was more sure of Gale’s ability to educate others. From his admirable desire to help others to his enthusiasm for knowledge … to the voice, face, and *hands* that made it impossible to zone out on him. He didn’t need to know that last part, though.

Gale chuckles at her praise, a light blush spreading across his face. “That too. How are you feeling now?” He asks, hoping his little magic lesson has been half as joyful for her as it has been for him. He felt relaxed, renewed, grounded, and more connected to her than he had ever felt. Although, that last part may be because he’s still standing so close to her, holding her hand as he needed to guide her through the more intricate parts of spell casting.

Tav allows herself to stare into Gale’s glimmering brown eyes, feeling a psychic connection between them where her thoughts could become his without the need to be verbalized.

After a lifetime of men being upset at her, accusing her of expecting them to read her mind, here is a man who can simply do so. Of *course* it’s Gale. Tav feels her eyes well up as she revels in the intense hope, adoration, and yearning she feels for him. Gazing into Gale’s eyes, their hands still intertwined, she imagines what it would be like to press onto her tiptoes and softly kiss him.

Gale’s eyes widen with shock as the thought dances into his mind. “I - I didn’t think -” he stutters, “I wasn’t … expecting that. Not that it’s unwelcome — it was a most pleasant thought,” Gale adds in hopes that Tav doesn’t take his surprise as disinterest, or even disgust. “It just took me by surprise,” he reiterates.

Tav takes a moment to compose herself before exhaling a shaky “okay.” Then, she whips her head around as she smells bergamot wafting in from the distance. Gale follows her gaze until they both see Astarion stumbling into the clearing … closely connected to Shadowheart.

“Well, looks like we’ve got company,” Gale tries (and fails) to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “We might want to get back to camp before we have to witness whatever is going to happen here.”

Tav slowly turns back to gale, smiling as she notices his stony stare at the oblivious couple. “As long as we’re not able to hear them from camp…”

“Oh gods, I don’t even want to think of that,” Gale grimaced. “Why don’t we head back, and if we hear anything, you could come sleep in my tent?” He quickly adds,” I have a silencing ward. I’d cast one on them before we leave, but I’m afraid my concentration won’t last once I fall asleep, and I know how fitful your rest is.”

Astonishment, anger, and amusement fight for dominance over Tav. She conveys a mix of them with her slack-jawed expression. “You had a *silencing ward* on your tent this whole time? And you didn’t *tell me*?” She kept her outrage playful, although she was disappointed that he hadn’t shared this with her earlier.

“I’m sorry,” gale said in earnest as he took her hand and started leading her back towards camp. They left a wide berth for Astarion and Shadowheart to continue ripping each other’s clothes off.

“I started working on a ranged ward for your tent after I earned of your insomnia, but I never quite got it to stick. I didn’t want you to think I was coming onto you by offering a place in my tent to get some good rest. I don’t expect anything, and I could even sleep outside of it if you’re more comfortable with that.” He felt a bit less forward with the offer now that he knew she thought of kissing him — at least in that moment. Still, he never wanted her to feel pressure.

She gazed up at Gale as they reached their camp. “Really?” she asked, unsure if someone could genuinely be so kind. Last time she had an offer like that …. well, they lied about expecting nothing.

Gale squeezed Tav’s hand in reassurance as he took in the concern in her voice. “Of course. I’m sure our adventure would benefit from a well-rested leader… do you want my tent alone, or …” he trailed off, his bashfulness returning.

“No!” tav exclaimed. “I’m not taking your tent from you! We can share it, if you’re okay with that?” She hurries along in an attempt to be thoughtful and nonchalant at the same time, “whatever you want. Sleeping on opposite sides, together … I’m fine with either. Well, by together I mean … you know what I mean,” she shook her head as she tried to explain herself.

Then she remembered their little joke and smirked, “no undue *excitement* is what I mean.”

Gale returned her smirk with a laugh, “Right, always looking out for me. It’s lady’s choice though, and i’m happy with either as well. But I will say, I know you run warm. I also know that I can use a frost enchantment to keep you cool so long as we’re touching.” This was his masterful attempt at sweetening the deal without pressuring her by saying how much he longed to hold her in his arms … and damn him if it wasn’t going to work.

“Gods, you’ve really been holding out on me, haven’t you?” Tav admonished. “I’ll just, get some of my stuff, and then I’ll join you. I’ll bring my blanket so I hopefully won’t steal yours, but I make no promises.”

He smiled as he met her serious gaze at the threat of stealing his blanket. “Two is always better. I’ll see you when you’re ready,” Gale said softly, watching her head back to her tent. He silently thanked her for wanting another blanket, giving him a moment alone to bask in the excitement of a night with her. And calm down this excitement before she returns so he doesn’t scare her off.

[saintmagx]

I Knew you were Trouble❤️‍🔥

Part 2

Pairing: Jimmy Uso x reader

AN: if you would like tagged let me know 💖 Trinity is still with WWE. No specific timeline

⚠️ Warnings: 18+ , swearing, violence (this is the WWE after all) slight smut, infidelity, jealous Jimmy, bad writing, cringe story telling, the Usos (because they are a warning in themselves) ⚠️

The privilege of being a WWE superstar is you can get in almost anywhere and tonight was no different. LIV a well know nightclub in Miami is one of the toughest places to get into due to the high calliper of clientele - and somehow we made the cut.

The music was pumping, the air thick with stress and tension being danced away. We found our way to the back of the club to sit in one of the enclosed booths, accompanied by a server bringing over a bottle of their finest champagne.

Josh quickly fills the glasses up and starts us off:

“A toast, to these two badass ladies, congrats on your title win. It’s only up from here.”

“Josh, we haven’t actually won the titles yet, in-fact it doesn’t even feel right celebrating before we even have them, isn’t it like bad luck?”

“Yn, girl, let’s just enjoy the moment, we can worry about actually getting the titles tomorrow - tonight is about celebrating. Celebrating success, our future title reign, our new found friendship and everything in between.”

I hadn’t known Trinity long but her positivity and light is captivating. People gravitate towards her because of how she makes them feel. She loves and gives with her whole being.

“Okay enough of the chitchat, let’s dance”

Before I know it I’m being dragged to the dance floor by Trin. We dance the night away, laughing and having potentially a little bit too much alcohol.

“I’m going to use the restroom, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Trin just smiled and nodded - I want to say she heard what I said, but at this point I can’t even register my own inner monologue.

The bathroom was at the back of the club and it was hidden well - not sure how safe that was. Distracted by doing a bit of social media stalking, I walk into something solid.

“Ouch” I say.

I’m so embarrassed - praying no one saw me do that or worse having caught it on camera.

“I think I should be the one saying ouch”

Stunned, i look up and see Jon who is towering over me, with a lustful darkness lingering in his eyes.

“Jon, shit, sorry, I thought it was the wall or something. Are you okay?”

“Well except a bruised ego, I’m fine.” He pauses then continues “A wall huh? You think I’m that built?” His signature smirk creeping onto his face. My cheeks instantly flush pink. Does he know what he’s doing? Or even the effect he’s having on me? Am I reading too much into this? Wait, shit - becoming aware of the the fact I’ve been staring at Jon blushing, I have to say something, anything.

“Trin seems to be having a good time, I left her on the dance floor if you wanna join her.”

He inches closer, his scent fills my nose. My mind, body and soul is hypnotised by him.

“Well that depends, will you be coming back to the dance floor?”

Will i? Technically I wouldn’t be doing anything wrong, On one hand I can be close to him, looking and not touching but then on the other hand, he’s married, married to Trin, I couldn’t do that to her, right?

“I’m not sure that’s such a goo-”

“Yo uce, come get your wife, she’s had one too many drinks and I think she’s ready to start a fight.”

Saved by the bell.

Jon looks me up and down one more time, as if he’s trying to tell me we have unfinished business, he then heads off to get Trin and play the doting husband once more.

“I think I’m going to call it a night Josh.” He agrees and we head to the main entrance to wait on Trin and Jon before heading back to the hotel. I’m not sure what happened back at the club, I’m torn between wanting to find out, and just ignoring it, act like nothing happened - because nothing did happen right?

Trin

(8 New Messages)

I had so much fun tonight, we gotta hit the club more often.

We should think of a cool tag name

Oh and matching outfits

Should we come out together or separate

Omg there’s so much to think about

I know we haven’t known each other that long but I’ve got a feeling we are going to be such good friends

Jon says I’ve to leave you alone and let you sleep

Goodnight girl

Okay, my decision is made, whatever this is or isn’t stops now. Trin is a sweetheart and doesn’t deserve any of this.

I never understood people who said working out is good for the soul, I thought you had to be mad to enjoy it. However over the past few years an early morning hotel gym session has become my inner peace. Whether I’m running on the treadmill or lifting weights my mind is in blissful state of serenity. No craziness, no fuzziness, no overthinking and no Jonathan fucking Fatu. Calm.

Sitting on the gym floor, a sweaty mess from my workout I take a quick look through social media, trying to catch my breath. Trin had posted photos from last night to her private Instagram, guilt washes over me, I quickly shake the feeling and type a cheesy comment on her post - cheese is good, more focus on Trin less focus on Jon.

“Well shit, didn’t expect to see you down here this early.”

“Well Josh, early bird gets the worm and all that jazz.”

He walks over to join me on the floor, Josh is such a great guy, why couldn’t it have been him I was so captivated with and not his married brother.

“Did you have fun last night?”

“Honestly yeah, it was good to let my hair down and just enjoy myself.” Pausing for a second, “what about you? I didn’t get to see you all night.”

“Aw, did yn miss me?” He laughs

“Shut up loser” I say while nudging him.

“What’s going on here?”

I stiffen, Jon.

“Yo uce, about time you got yo ass down here, we ready to work out?”

Jon sits on the floor right next to me, the heat from his body already surrounds mine.

“I’ll take that as a no, I’ll be warming up for whenever yo lazy ass decides to join me.”

Josh gets up and heads towards the gym equipment to start his workout leaving just me and Jon, an awkward silence lingers.

“So last night was fun” I say trying to break the silence.

He just stares at me, looking into his eyes I see conflict, tension, desire? Finally breaking his silence.

“Yeah, it was a good night, shame it was cut short.”

Playing blissfully ignorant I push him for more information.

“It wasn’t cut short? We had been there for hours.”

“Let me rephrase that, our time was cut short.”

My heartbeat picks up - I’m playing with fire here and I know I’ll get burned if I continue.

“I guess I was to busy dancing with Trin to spend time with you and Josh.”

He smirks, his pinky inches closer to my hand, finding it’s destination he starts caressing my hand.

“No, our time. Me and you. If J hadn’t have came in…”

“Jon, come on we ain’t got all day.” Josh interrupts

“I’m coming I’m coming.” He replies back irritated.

Jon leans over inches from my ear he whispers “This ain’t over.”

And with that he is gone, away to join Josh to start their workout. Leaving me confused, conflicted and a little bit hot. Im definitely getting burned.

tagged: @southerngirl41 @missfamilyjeweles @jeyusos-girl @christinabae @jeyusosgirl @raya-hunter01

[slasher-key]

Stay With Me (Charlie Walker)

Pairing: Charlie Walker x Fem!! Reader 

Warnings: The usual curse word here and there

This is a lil enemies to lover for you. I hope you enjoy thanks for reading ❤️❤️I really appreciate it.

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I never really liked Charlie Walker. When I first moved to Woodsboro he would tease and taunt me until I broke, all so he could impress his friends. He spread a rumor about how I gave it up to him at some party once, and everyone would call me these horrible names. That was my breaking point, that was the first time I stood up for myself for once, and the first time I ever punched someone in the face. Since that day we have been at each other’s throats.

Our hatred for each other was so bad I couldn’t even go to Cinema Club, and I fucking love movies. But I already have to see him in two of my classes and lunch, so why would I want to be around him after school as well. Kirby tried to convince me to come but I couldn’t stand it. So now I just go home and watch TV alone. Since my grandma is working at the hospital all the time. I’m home alone a lot.

I am sitting in my last class of the day impatiently waiting for the bell to ring. I zone out looking at the clock when I feel a tap on my arm. I already knew who it was because he does it every day. “You coming to Cinema Club today? you know it’s the anniversary.” He says “First off why are you talking to me like we are friends? And second why would I want to celebrate a bunch of teenagers getting murdered?” I reply, a disgusted look plastered on my face “You’re so fucking weird, you know that.” I continue, packing up my things and walking out of the room as the bell rings. But as you walk out of the room you can’t help but notice the slight frown on Charlie’s face. 

On my way to the cemetery I pick up some flowers to put on my mom’s grave it is the anniversary of her death after all. My grandma was gonna come but she got called into work at the last minute so It’s just me. My mom was apart of the original Woodsboro murders. She was killed in our house alone, while my grandma took me to my doctors appointment I was only four when she died. She had me her freshman year after a ‘drunken mistake’ (as my grandma calls it) at her first high school party. She didn’t really know how to raise a child so my grandma did most of it for her, but I don’t love her any less. My grandma tells me lots of stories about her, and how she tried her best for me. I never knew my dad, so I would try to get my grandma to talk about him. But she wouldn’t let up, so after a while I gave up.  

I made it to the cemetery, and found her grave. I sat and talked to her for a little, and cleaned up her grave as well. In the middle of my sentence I pause, as I hear someone walking toward me. I look back and it’s Sidney, I stand up quick and face her. We stand in silence for a while, just staring at each other. “You look just like her.” She says breaking the silence “Yeah I get that a lot.” I reply. I sit in the spot that I was in before, and she walks over and sits next to me. I met Sidney a couple time as a kid, her and my mom were friends all through high school until you know what. I didn’t see her much after my grandma moved us out of Woodsboro, she also moved as well, so it’s been a couple years. 

“I just wish I got more time with her.” I whisper, my voice breaks, and I break down in Sid’s arms. “I know, it’s going to be okay.” She replies holding me tightly in her arms. Sid and I stay at the cemetery and just talk. Everything is going well with our conversation until I bring up my dad. “Hey Sid, do you know who my dad is? My grandma has never told me, and my mom doesn’t seem to have any pictures or anything of him or with him.” I ask, maybe this was the only way I could finally know about my dad, so I was going to try. “I don’t think that’s my place to tell you, but I will say they kept him away from you for a reason sweetheart.” she replies. After she answers she quickly changes the subject to something else. we talk for about another 15 minutes then go our separate ways. The whole drive home I can’t stop thinking about what Sid said about my dad. 

I make it back to the house and walk up to the front door. “Hey y/n, wait.” I hear from across the street I look back to see Charlie getting out of his car, and start to jog towards me. “What do you want now, Charlie?” I ask, not in the mood for his shit at the moment. “I didn’t know she was your mom y/n I’m so sorry for today, Kirby told me after I told her what you said during our last class.” He says, and for once I actually believed him and wasn’t annoyed to be around him. “It’s fine Charlie, but how didn’t you know, we have the same last name? and don’t you know everything about these murders?” I ask “I mean yeah most of it, doesn’t everyone?” He asks “Nope, not me, my grandma kept me away from this town and my mom’s murder for as long as she could.” I reply “But, you could help me with learning about it. you wanna come in?” I ask. if Charlie was going to pity me for the rest of the week why not use it to my advantage. 

“Okay so you’re grandma has never mentioned anything that can give you hints about your dad?” Charlie asks, trying to help me find out what happened to my mom and dad. “Nope she did everything in her will power to keep me away from knowing the truth, but I’m sick of her hiding things from me.” I reply “Do you guys have anything that could hold lot’s of old storage? You know an attic, a little room in the basement, a separate bedroom that no one uses, anything like that?” he asks “Yeah why?” I ask furrowing my eyebrows in confusion. “So we can see if she has any picture or anything that can give us some hints, duh idiot.” he replies “Oh fuck off, but yeah we have an attic.” I say “Have you ever been up there?” he asks “No, I didn’t know about it until recently, and I got to scared to go up there.” I reply “scaredy cat” he coughs out “Anyway, what the hell are we waiting for let’s do this fucker you want my help or not.”

We grab some flashlights from the closet and make our way up the ladder to the attic. “Well it isn’t as dusty and scary as I thought.” I saw shining my flash light around. There is a lot up here, but Charlie and I start to dig our way through. About an hour later Charlie finds a box with my mom’s name on it. We take it and go back to my room. 

I am too nervous to open it, so I make Charlie do it for me. He starts to look through the box, most of it is picture of my mom with grandma, my mom and I, and her with her friends from school. Charlie keeps digging and finds a diary with my mom’s initials written on it. He flips through the diary, and abruptly stops, a large gasp escapes him, and he quickly closes the book. “Charlie what’s wrong?” I ask, he looks at me with sympathy in his eyes. “I don’t think you should be doing this y/n.” He says, he is frozen still. I snatch the book away and start to flip through the pages. I see his name ‘Stu Macher’ I froze, the book falls out of my hand. I don’t know what to do I don’t know what to think. My body goes weak all I can do is fall to the ground and cry. Charlie runs over to me and hugs me tightly. Whispering you’re okay, and it’s going to be okay, over and over again.

After a while of me crying in his arms. Charlie and I are sitting on my bed in silence. “It’s getting pretty late maybe you should go.” I say, my voice horse from all the crying “I’m not going anywhere, I’m staying at least until your grandma get’s home.” he says, moving my face so I can look at him. “Thanks for staying with me Charlie.” I say hugging him once again. Charlie stayed with me that whole night, even when I confronted my grandma about not telling me who my dad was. 

Out of all the people I could’ve had there with me tonight, I never thought I would want it to be Charlie, but her I am cuddled up with him in sweet soothing silence.

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Thank you for reading 💕💕💕 Love You All

[casanovawrites]

FROM season 1 sentence starters

you're like a poem. you know that? you make everything around you beautiful. 

we can't take any chances.

this, unfortunately, is going to be the worst conversation of your life.

do you believe in monsters?

if you climb high enough, even a nightmare can look like a dream.

i can’t find any more bodies. i just can’t.

let me go first. it doesn’t have to be you.

they know there’s only so many places we can go.

i feel like i’m hanging on by a thread here.

what are you looking at?

denial is a major part of our family tree.

i wish you had the luxury of grief, but you don’t.

people are scared. the edges are starting to fray.

you need to be the one to tell them it’ll be okay.

you need to use me as a punching bag? need a place to put all that anger, that regret? fine.

i don’t just sit around accepting the world as it is.

you’re gonna be the hero.

this is how we go home.

if you’re in that much of a hurry to fucking die, you should just go and do it.

you have no idea what it’s like being smarter than everyone you know.

you’re connected to this place in a way no one else here is.

it’s about celebrating survival. reminds me that anything is possible.

you need to get over it and be the scary hard ass we all know you to be.

the second we stop looking for answers, that’s when we lose. 

get the fuck out of here before people start thinking we’re friends.

i’m gonna say something to you that might make you hate me, and if it does, that’s okay.

i found something. something i think is going to help us.

there’s no way you could’ve survived out there. not if it was real.

it’s time to wake up. it’s time to wake everybody up.

i’ve been trying to find the courage to say something.

can you kiss me?

we could’ve died. there’s no way we could’ve survived that.

i’ve just been so angry for a really long time.

it wasn’t your fault.

i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. i’m sorry.

i just didn’t want you to leave without saying goodbye.

this is not goodbye, okay? you hear me? this is not goodbye.

just come back.

we’re in a tight spot. no one is going to pretend otherwise.

the least we can do is keep ourselves together.

we’re a community, so we can do this together.

how do we go back now? after the things we’ve seen, the things we’ve done?

how do we go home? we’re not the same people anymore.

this is the only place we’ve ever known together.

i’ll go find a sharper knife. this one’s just taking forever.

how do you know we won’t just walk and walk and walk back to where we started?

i’ve seen this town make good people do bad things.

let’s just keep moving.

when we get home, i’m gonna call my friends. i’m just gonna call them.

when we get home, i want to just be happy.  

we’re all going home, right? we don’t need this place anymore.

it’s not a home anymore. it’s a fucking tomb.

if we push too hard, then something will push back.

i can hear them! i can hear them!

this isn’t some grade school softball game where everyone gets a participation medal.

you wanna know what i’m grieving? i’m grieving the loss of what we almost made this place.

this place almost felt like something that could work.

you can’t see what this place is gonna become when you fail.

what are we supposed to do? sit here and not try to go home?

at least here, the monsters have the decency to show you what they are.

it was more than that. it was special.

all those people from different places, different lives, living together. there was something. there was joy. 

you have to be prepared for the fallout if it doesn’t work.

i think you’re gonna find there’s more to miss about this place than you thought.

that kinda day, huh?

she knows how to wield an ax. i’ll give her that.

i’m not gonna stand here and pretend that it was a great day.

i just need you to promise me, if it falls apart, if you fall apart, just promise me, you’ll come to me.

you have no idea how much pressure it is to be the one everyone assumes can just fix an unfixable problem.

you’re a pretty bad liar.

what’s got you feeling so optimistic?

what if we were supposed to come here?

back home, we never talked anymore. now we’re together again. like, we’re really together. 

i wasn’t sure you’d wake up.

there are things out here that are worse than the monsters.

i’m sure you would’ve figured it out eventually.

where do you think we are?

i don’t even remember anymore who i was before i saw you.

i don’t wanna find out who i am without you.

you are the love of my life. and we could be anywhere, i mean we could be here, we could be there, we could be anywhere in the world, but it would not matter, because you are my home. and i would really like to be yours.

you brought me out here because you thought i could help. look where we are.

doing this is our part.

there is no way out. is there? 

this fucking place! fucking makes you think that you’re doing the right thing, it gives you hope, then it takes it away like it’s feeding on your pain.

you want my pain? you want my fucking pain? come on, get it.

we have to keep moving. towards the light. we have to get towards the lights.

the voice you heard in your head is right, we’re gonna die out here.

i know how offensive you find my proclivities! 

i don't know what to do. and that really freaks me out.

i don’t feel guilty.

we’re going in the right direction. we just need to keep going.

if you don’t go, we are both going to die.

this place is angry now.